Finding Dr. Right (Contemporary Medical Romance) (18 page)

“No! You aren’t. You can’t be.”

“Then you explain it to him. You tell him why we can’t be friends.” Nathan threw the pile of clothes into a duffel bag and faced Catherine for the first time. His heart lurched at the panic etched on her pale face and he bit back the sharp retort he wanted to hurl at her, taking a deep breath to calm the raging emotions that wanted to break free inside. “Listen, I know you have a real problem with me,
Doctor,
but I happen to like your son and I’m sure as hell not going to twist that poor kid’s emotions into a knot because you have issues.”

“How dare you!
I
have issues?
I’m
not the one who can’t face reality!
I’m
not the one who’s living in some dream world, afraid to accept the truth!”

“Really? Could have fooled me.” Nathan winced when she flinched at the harshness of his words. Any other time, he would have left enough alone, would have stopped while he was ahead, but the medicine was finally doing its job. A synthetic calm poured over him, insulating him, numbing him. He was pleasantly detached from everything and reveled in the feel of it.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Nathan stepped toward her, forcing her to step back. He ignored the panicked look on her face when her back hit the wall. He braced one hand on either side of her face and leaned closer, leaving mere inches between them.

“It means that you would rather shut yourself away from the world than grab the chance to live your life because you might get hurt.” Nathan dipped his head closer, brushed his lips briefly against hers. “It means you’re too afraid to accept my…an offer of love and I don’t know how to change that. Wish to hell I could, but I can’t.”

He dropped his lips to hers once more, felt a warmth explode deep inside him and quickly pulled away. His head swam for a minute, though whether from his physical reaction to Catherine or to the medication, he didn’t know. “And…it means I’m really buzzing on painkillers right now and not thinking straight and you should leave. You really need to leave before I say or do something that’ll get me in deeper than I already am.”

“Nathan…”

“Not now, Catherine. Just leave. Please.” He stumbled to the bed and slowly sat on the edge before letting himself fall backward. He closed his eyes against the brief dizziness then opened them and stared at the ceiling. Muffled footsteps came closer, paused, then moved away. An eternity later he heard the front door open and close. He shut his eyes against the noise, wishing he could shut out the pain that had accompanied the soft, muted
click.

Catherine leaned over the open dishwasher and shoved the last pot inside, briefly fighting with it until it cooperated and sat snugly in the bottom rack. She added detergent then slammed the door shut, giving the machine a dirty look.

She never used to have trouble with things. Up until six months ago, life had been fine. Maybe a little plain and boring, but quiet and sane. Safe. Then in walked Nathan Conners and everything changed.

Catherine grabbed the sponge from the kitchen sink and wiped the already clean countertop. Who was she kidding? Life before meeting Nathan had been miserable. There had been Matty’s diagnosis and treatment, the fear he couldn’t be healed, the fear he would get sick again and she would lose him. She had gone for “safe” because she was too afraid of anything else.

Well, that pattern had definitely changed these last few months. Matty was better, he was using his prosthesis like he had been born with it. He was playing sports, for crying out loud. He laughed and joked and smiled. Except for the past week. This past week he had been miserable. And it was her fault.

She tossed the sponge in the sink then walked over to the kitchen doorway. Matty was curled up on the sofa watching television, the volume so low Catherine couldn’t hear it. She didn’t need to hear it to know the hockey game was on.

Matty jumped guiltily and switched the channel when she walked into the living room. The studied look of feigned innocence on his young face added to her own guilt and misery. She swallowed both emotions and sat down next to him, shifting so he could prop his good leg in her lap.

“The Discovery Channel, hmm?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“So…what’s the score?”

“Three to two.” Matty blurted out the answer. His mouth dropped into a wide
O
that he quickly tried to hide then he started coughing. Catherine held her breath. The coughing stopped and he wiped the tears from his eyes before looking at her again. “I mean, um, what score? To what?”

“Nice try, kiddo.” Catherine studied him closely for a minute, trying to decide if he was flushed from coughing or if he was getting sick. She wanted to reach out and feel his forehead but hit the recall button on the remote instead.

The hockey game blared to life on the screen in front of them. She nudged the volume button and soon stereo sound accompanied the action on the ice. The camera panned in on the players’ bench and suddenly Nathan was in the living room with them, his face looking worse than it had a week ago when Catherine barged into his house. She tried not to wince at the image, tried not to think of the bottle of Percocet she had seen on his hallway table on her way out.

“He’s playing pretty good.” Matty whispered the words hesitantly, as if he was afraid to say anything about Nathan. Could she really blame him after the way she had acted?

“He looks awful.”

“Well duh, Mom. He’s a hockey player.”

“Oh.” As if that explained everything. Then again, maybe to Matty, it did. Catherine sighed and nudged the volume back a few notches so they could talk. “You know, Nathan and Alec and all of those guys really push themselves when they play. I mean, even past the point where it’s safe.”

“Mooooommm!”

“Matty, I’m trying to explain something to you.” Catherine bit back a reprimand when he rolled his eyes at her, trying to decide the best way to explain. She took a deep breath and plunged in. “You can see how beat-up they are. And how tired. They’re pushing themselves now, but tomorrow will be worse for them. Just because they’re doing it doesn’t make it right.”

“Mom, I know that.”

“You do?”

“Yes, Mom. I’m not stupid, you know. I’m not going to do something that’ll hurt me.” He rolled his eyes again and turned back to the television set. “Besides, Nathan already explained the same thing to me, only he did it better than you.”

“He did?”

“Uh-huh. And so did Uncle Brian and Alec. Everyone’s afraid I’m gonna do something stupid and hurt myself, the way Nathan keeps doing to his knee when he plays.”

“I see.” Catherine leaned back against the sofa and studied Matty. Watching him was a lot easier than wondering if she had just heaped one more mistake on top of a hundred others this week when it came to dealing with Nathan. “And when did everyone give you all this advice?”

“Mom…” Matty broke off and coughed again, this one rattling his thin chest. Catherine immediately felt his forehead, frowning at the heat that greeted her palm, frowning even more when Matty pushed her hand away. “Stop babying me!”

The anger in Matty’s voice was a slap across her face and she sat back, stunned and hurt. His dark brows were drawn together in a tight frown, his arms folded tightly across his chest as he studied the television with unwarranted intensity.

“I didn’t realize I was babying you.”

“You are. Stop it!” Matty yelled and pushed himself up from the sofa, his face flushed. “Stop treating me like a baby! I’m a kid like all the other boys I know, so stop treating me like a baby!” He stormed away from her, ignoring her calls.

Catherine watched as he disappeared down the hallway, his gait a little stiff because of the prosthesis, his back held straight. The door to his room slammed shut, echoing around her. She stared at the empty hallway, startled, not sure what to do.

Should she go after him and talk to him? Give him some time alone before talking to him? Just let him go? She didn’t know what to do. Matty didn’t have temper tantrums. Matty was well-behaved. Matty didn’t throw fits. Usually.

So what had changed?

The only change was her refusal to let him see Nathan because she had been afraid he was setting a bad example. Only Matty already knew that — because Nathan had told him.

Catherine looked back at the empty hallway, grimacing against the pain in the pit of her stomach, a bitter pain that came with the realization she had made one error after another. Just one more mistake in a long list of many.

She needed to fix this mistake. Maybe then, everything else would return to normal. If she fixed just this one thing, maybe she could have her old life back.

Her nice, quiet,
safe
life.

N
athan took a deep breath and started counting, actually made it to three when he realized the trick wasn’t working and cursed. He glanced in the rearview mirror then quickly checked the intersection for oncoming traffic before blowing the red light, ignoring the sound of blaring horns as he sped by the waiting traffic. It was a stupid move but he didn’t care.

The ride to the hospital was taking too long. He didn’t have the time to wait for traffic; his nerves were in no condition to wait. Not when he was less than a mile away.

His heart thudded painfully and he swallowed against the strange sensation, rubbing his chest as if that would actually ease the pain. It had only gotten worse since the trainer had given him the note after the start of the third period.

Matty at hospital. Emergency.

No time noted, no details. Just those four cold words.

Nathan didn’t know who had called to leave the message, or how the trainer had been persuaded to deliver it during the game.

Drenched in a cold sweat that had nothing to do with physical exertion, he showed the note to Sonny and told the coach he was leaving. Even though his voice left no room for argument, he had been surprised that LeBlanc had let him go without even a minor disagreement. Probably because the
Banners
had been up by two goals and Nathan hadn’t been playing very well, anyway.

He wheeled into the emergency room driveway with a squeal of tires and pulled into the first open spot he saw, not caring that it had a reserved sign posted in front. Let them tow the damn thing away. That was the least of his worries right now.

Absently pocketing his keys, his long strides quickly ate up the short distance to the entrance. He nearly collided with the automatic sliding doors in his hurry to rush in.

If he was this frantic, how bad was Catherine?

Images rushed through his mind and he pushed them away. He didn’t want to think about what dark thoughts must be going through her mind, not when he didn’t even know what was wrong.

He paused in the busy waiting room, surprised at how crowded it was. And how quiet. A few people glanced in his direction but for the most part they ignored him, too wrapped up in their own worries to be concerned about a newcomer. Nathan swallowed his discomfort and walked over to a large, circular desk beneath a sign that read Information. The older woman looked up at him with a blank expression. “May I help you?”

“I’m looking for Matthew Wilson.”

The woman glanced at him then busied her fingers on the keyboard in front of her. A frown marred her wrinkled features as she hit a few more buttons then looked back at him. “Your relationship to the patient, sir?”

“Uh, friend. I’m a family friend.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but the patient is listed in PICU. Only immediate family is allowed.”

“PICU?”

“Pediatric intensive care unit.”

The bottom of Nathan’s stomach dropped open and let in an icy blast of cold fear. He took a deep breath that lodged in his throat, choking him. Nathan had assumed that there had been some kind of accident, that Matty would be in the E.R. getting patched up. He thought the anxiety that gripped him when he had been handed the note would lessen when he reached the hospital.

His hands tightened on the edge of the counter, the sharp corners digging into the flesh of his palms as his anxiety and fear intensified until it nearly doubled him over with pain. What the hell had happened to Matty? What was wrong with him?

Nathan ran a shaking hand through his hair and shifted on his feet, searching the E.R. waiting room as if an answer could be found somewhere. Still at a loss, he turned back to the woman.

“Um, I got a message to meet the family here. Is there a way to go up to see them? Talk to them?”

“I’m sorry, sir, no. Only immediate family —”

“I
am
family! Matty’s mother and I are engaged!” The outburst caught the attention of a few people close by, who stopped to stare at him. Nathan wasn’t sure what had prompted the lie and didn’t really care if it got him up to see Matty. But the woman appeared unaffected because she continued to stare at him with passive indifference.

He took a deep breath and leaned over the information desk, hoping to intimidate her with his size, wishing he had showered and changed into better clothes instead of throwing on frayed jeans and a T-shirt. Not that he would have taken the time, and not that the intimidation was working in either case. “Listen, just call up for Dr. Porter. He knows who I am.”

“Sir, I’m sorry but —”

Nathan slammed the flat of his hand against the desk. “Will you just call, for crying out loud?”

“Is there something I can help with here?” The subdued voice came from behind Nathan, startling him. He turned to face a man in his late twenties, wearing blue scrubs and a lab coat. The man looked first at the woman behind the desk then at Nathan and there was a flash of recognition in the dark eyes.

“I’m trying to see my fiancée’s son and she’s saying I’m not allowed to go up, that only immediate family is allowed.”

“Hmm.” The man walked around the desk and glanced at the screen. “Matthew Wilson? Catherine’s son? He’s here?”

“Yes.”

The younger man studied Nathan a little more, his brows drawing closely together. “You’re Nathan Conners, aren’t you? I thought I recognized you.” The man grabbed a file from the desktop then looked back at Nathan. “You probably don’t remember me. Steve Murray. I was working a few months ago when Matty broke his arm.”

“Um, yeah, okay.” Nathan couldn’t recall one way or the other and didn’t really care. “Listen, about Matty…”

“I’ll walk you up.” Steve scribbled a notation on some papers, closed the file and tossed it back on the desk, then motioned for Nathan to follow him. “So, Catherine’s your fiancée, hmm?”

“Uh, I…” Nathan jammed his hands into his pants pockets and shrugged. “Um, I wasn’t sure how else to —”

“Don’t worry about it. I won’t let on.”

Nathan followed him to a set of elevators, thankful for the man’s silence during the ride to the fifth floor. His breath hitched and the knot in his stomach grew when the doors finally opened onto a small, informal waiting room decorated in bright colors. Two corridors stretched out on either side, closed off from the waiting room by oversize wooden doors. Notices were posted on both doors, reminding visitors that a security pass was needed for entrance.

He stepped off the elevator then hesitated, not sure where to go or what to do. Steve tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the waiting area. “Why don’t you wait over there, and I’ll go back and see what I can do.” Nathan nodded then chose an overstuffed seat, shifting uncomfortably while he waited.

Brian walked out minutes later, a frown marring his face. Nathan rose, folded his hands in front of him, then quickly unfolded them and jammed them in his pockets. He took a deep breath and let it out in a rush when Brian approached him.

“How’s Matty?”

“He should be fine.”

“Should? What’s wrong with him?”

Brian shifted his weight from one foot to the other and studied Nathan through his glasses, the frown creasing his smooth face. “Matty has very bad pneumonia. His immune system is still weakened, so it could get worse.”

“But I mean, it’s just pneumonia, right? That doesn’t kill anyone.” Nathan’s voice cracked. The fear he had tried so hard to push away rushed forward and swamped him, uncovering emotions and feelings he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge, had tried to ignore. He raked a hand through his hair, not surprised to see how badly it was shaking.

“He should be fine. We’ll know more later. Nathan, are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”

“Huh? Uh, no, I’m fine. What about Catherine? How is she?”

“Catherine is putting on a brave face, as usual. Did you want to go back and see them?”

“Can I? They told me downstairs that only family…”

“Sure, come on.” Brian led the way, opening the door by swiping a card into a special reader. Nathan followed, his attention on the floor until the door closed behind him. There was a change in the atmosphere and he looked up suddenly, his footsteps faltering before he stopped.

The corridor was painted in bright colors broken by cheerful paper decorated with different cartoon characters. The scheme was at direct odds with the hulking medical equipment that lined the hallway, and with the somber faces of visitors and staff. Nathan peered into one of the rooms and immediately wished he hadn’t. A small child was on the bed, tubes and machines hooked up to different body parts. Mechanical bleeps drifted into the hallway, sounding like a clock ticking away life’s minutes.

Brian tugged on Nathan’s arm, pulling him farther down the hallway. “Matty’s room is down here.”

They passed a few more doors, finally stopping at one that was partially closed. Nathan realized Brian was trying to gauge how he would react. Nathan took a deep breath and nodded, hoping he could handle whatever was behind the door.

He wasn’t prepared and he reached out for the doorjamb to steady himself, staring at the small, still figure in the bed. He almost thought Brian had led him into the wrong room, had to look twice until the blurry image in front of him wavered then focused, turning into a shadow of the boy Nathan knew.

Nathan released his hold on the doorjamb and took a hesitant step into the room. Catherine stood next to the hospital bed, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle. She was so absorbed in staring at Matty that she didn’t seem to notice anything else. He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling like an intruder and wondering if he should just leave.

“He looks so small and helpless. And I’m not even allowed to hold him.” The strangled whisper came from Catherine, hoarse and full of a mother’s desperation. Nathan hesitated again then stepped closer, narrowing the distance between them.

“Is there anything…” Nathan’s voice cracked and he took a deep breath, not finishing the sentence.

Catherine sensed his hesitation, looked first at Matty then at Nathan and shrugged, a tired gesture that relayed her weariness and worry. “He’s on medication. And the oxygen. If it gets too bad, he might need a ventilator. But right now, no. There’s nothing to do but wait. Just wait.”

She turned back to the bed and stood there, looking lonely and afraid. A woman so used to doing for herself and for everyone else, a woman used to not having anyone there for her. All of Nathan’s uncertainty, all of his hesitation and doubts disappeared in less time than a heartbeat.

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind, gently pulling her into his embrace. Catherine stiffened at first then leaned against him, allowing him to hold her. She turned and buried her face in his chest, her small shoulders shaking. He squeezed his eyes shut and held her tightly, brushed his lips against her hair. He said nothing, knowing there was nothing he could do except hold her. And he had never felt so helpless, so inadequate, before in his life.

“Oh, God, Nathan, I don’t know what to do.”

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.” He whispered the words in her ear, over and over as he gently rocked her. He led her to the upholstered armchair positioned near Matty’s bed, lowered himself into it then pulled Catherine onto his lap. She was as limp as a rag doll when she settled against him and tucked her head against his shoulder. All he could do was hold her and rub his hand across her back in small circles.

Again Nathan wanted to say something, to do something, but he didn’t know what. Frustration warred with his own fear and in the end he did the only thing he could do. He held Catherine.

And prayed.

For the woman in his arms, and for the little boy lying helplessly in front of him — the boy who had become a son to him.

Catherine winced at the sharp pain in her neck, fighting to stay in the safety of the darkness, knowing there was something waiting for her in the light, something she didn’t want to face. The darkness slowly gave way to grayness and she shifted again, not yet ready to confront whatever waited for her.

“Matty!” Reality catapulted her into consciousness and she bolted upright, tearing herself from the shackles of sleep. Eyes wide, she frantically searched around her, fear forcing her heart to race. Matty’s flu, the pneumonia, the hospital…

Her panicked gaze rested on the hospital bed in front of her, on the small figure tucked securely in the center. Matty’s chest rose and fell with each breath. Each clear breath. She studied the rise and fall, counting, listening.

“He seems to be breathing a lot better,” a quiet voice whispered. Catherine’s head snapped to the right. Nathan leaned against the wall at the foot of the bed, his arms loosely crossed in front of him. His wrinkled T-shirt was only partially tucked into his faded jeans; his hair was tousled, as if he hadn’t had the time or inclination to do more than run a hand through it. Stubble covered his chin and jaw.

Catherine remembered falling asleep in his lap, lulled by murmured words of comfort she couldn’t recall. She didn’t realize he had planned to stay with them all night, was only slightly surprised that he did. She cleared her throat and pushed herself up from the chair, fighting the stiffness that wanted to immobilize her.

“He seems to be. Has the doctor been here yet?”

Nathan shook his head and slowly straightened from the wall, his gaze remaining on Matty. “Just a nurse. Brian was here, then went to get some coffee. The nurse said the doctor would be in soon.” Nathan finally turned to face her, and Catherine was surprised to see the red rimming his eyes. “I thought you might need a little more sleep.”

“Thank you. I can’t believe I slept, though.” Catherine looked back at Matty, at the steady rise and fall of his chest, and some of the fear left her. She took a deep breath and turned back to Nathan. “You don’t look like you slept much.”

Nathan shrugged, a gesture that seemed forced somehow, too casual. “I’ll manage.”

“But what about —” She was interrupted when the door opened behind her. Brian muttered a weary greeting as he walked into the room and placed a tray filled with large, steaming cups on a utility table against the wall. He passed the cups in silence; Catherine wrapped her hands around the warmth but made no move to sip from it, her attention riveted instead on the carefully schooled expression that masked Brian’s face.