Jenessa moved closer to Eric. “An interesting idea, but unfortunately, I have to work tomorrow. I’ve never called in sick.”
Bishop nodded. “A record to be proud of. How’d you like a job with me?”
Sandra glared. “Mrs. Robertson, I had a report that you abandoned your patients to walk in the picket lines outside the hospital this afternoon.”
Jenessa shook her head. “They must have been hallucinating.”
Eric cleared his throat. “I heard the same rumor and discovered it was false. An interesting fact about rumors, so many of them prove to be inventions. Before you accept what some people say, you should check your facts. I’ll speak to you on Monday so we can discuss departmental policies.” He tugged on Jenessa’s hand.
On the sidewalk, she pulled her hand free. “Be back.” She darted back inside. A few minutes later, she returned. “They snagged the head of Security and they’re headed for the library.” She laughed. “Let’s go have dinner topped off by a reading of the will.”
Chapter 10
Sunday evening, Jenessa lay on her side cradled in Eric’s arms. She placed her hand on his chest and felt the wild beating of his heart. This time their love-making had been hard and fast. She sighed. There’d been a desperation on her part. How could she bear to let this newly discovered part of her life die to embers even for a day? Another sigh rose from the bottom of her lungs.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. “I could make an omelet.”
She kissed his chest. “Now that you mention it.”
He laughed. “Food. Have you ever gone more than six hours without a snack?”
“At work today.”
“Short again?”
“Actually no. It’s just that I had the prime patients -- both on respirators.”
Eric sat up and pushed the covers aside. He crossed the room to where their clothes lay in a heap. “I’ve been studying the staffing patterns and I’m almost ready to make a presentation to the Board followed by a recommendation.” He shook his head. “I wish there was some way to handle the matter privately.”
Jenessa studied his broad shoulders. For someone who seldom exercised, his body was superb and all male. “Private would mean the discussion never happened. I learned that soon after she arrived.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to like making an issue of this.” He pulled on a pair of sweat pants that rode low on his narrow hips. “Meet you in the kitchen.”
As soon as he vanished, she felt as deprived as a child who’d lost a favorite toy. She left the bed and dressed. After their late dinner, she had to leave. Would he understand why they had to spend the next few weeks as strangers? She’d fought too long and too hard for a decent contract and against a strike to lose the battle in the last few hours.
She leaned against the door and tried to decide how to present her case. The evenings spent with him had been perfect, combining love, laughter and the greatest sexual experience of her life. As though their minds had been open to each other, their bodies had been in harmony. How could she deny herself this ultimate pleasure?
Rumors about his resignation abounded. She’d heard them in the cafeteria, when she’d gone to the lab to wait for a unit of blood and from the various hospital personnel who had come to ICU. Since he’d told her he’d rather leave than wait of be fired, she knew there was truth in the rumors. She couldn’t ask. She didn’t want to nag him the way she had Chuck.
As she opened the bedroom door, she smelled coffee and cinnamon. She stood in the kitchen doorway, studying and memorizing his body and the way he moved. “Smells great.”
“It’ll taste that way, too.”
She walked to him and rested her cheek against his back, inhaling the scent and feel of him to store until the crisis at the hospital passed. “Modesty?”
He placed two perfect omelets on plates and set them on the table. From the oven, he took a plate of buttered toast. “I meant to ask earlier, but somehow the direction of my thoughts changed. Where’s your bag?”
“I’m not spending the night.”
He put his hands on her shoulders. His fingers caressed her neck. “Why not?”
“Megan’s back and you...” She cut the sentence short. She didn’t want to discuss the rumors about his resignation. Hearing about his leaving from a dozen people had been bad enough. Having him tell her would be devastating.
“Don’t you want to avoid Megan? She’ll have a million questions.” He sat at the table across from her.
Jenessa swallowed a bite of the omelet. “No more than the ones I was asked all day.”
“Are you regretting this weekend?”
“I couldn’t do that.” She tore a piece of toast into bits. “If I wasn’t being asked about you and me, I was being accused of betraying the union or of using you to gain inside information. It’s too much.” She sucked in a breath.
He reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m not going to push you, but I...well, let’s just say right now, I need you as part of my life.”
She stared at her plate. Belief in his need was strong, but need and want weren’t enough. Why does he have to resign? Why can’t he love me? She pushed the questions aside and changed the subject. “What did you learn about the trust?”
“It was established to insure Eastlake would have a hospital to provide care for the citizens of the town and the surrounding county. For the trust to remain valid, the hospital must provide continuous service.”
“So if the nurses strike, the trust is dissolved? Bishop’s actions make no sense.”
“If the patients are still being cared for, the trust stands. The doctors, the Grantley students and the nursing administrators will pitch in.”
“Then how can the trust be broken?”
“I don’t think that’s what Bishop wants. I think he wants MASCHCO to buy the hospital and use the trust fund as one of its assets.”
She put her fork on the plate. “What good would it be if the money isn’t available?”
“The interest is, and on ten million plus, the sum could be quite large.”
She nodded. “I still don’t understand why he’s doing this.”
“Say he’s heavily invested in MASCHCO and the company has financial troubles. The trust would boost the company’s paper assets and make borrowing easier.”
“Are they in trouble?”
“I plan to check with a broker tomorrow.”
She shook her head. “Every time we uncover a fact, we end up with more questions.”
“You’re absolutely right, but these facts seem to be leading toward an answer.” He carried his plate to the sink. “We need to prevent a strike. If the nurses stay on the job, Bishop will never convince the Board to recommend the sale to the town council.”
“With Claire actively agitating for one, the fever is building. If there isn’t some offer from the Board or we don’t find proof that the strike is being orchestrated, I can’t stop a vote. The negotiating team meets Tuesday. Claire has included the entire steering committee. She’ll force the issue.” She joined him at the sink.
“I wish you weren’t right. This evening, I spent several hours looking at the copy of the contract you gave me and I’ve made a few suggestions I think you’ll like.”
He put his arms around her and tried to think of a way to keep her with him tonight. The past two nights had added a depth to his life he would miss if she insisted they put their relationship on hold.
“The contract,” she said.
“Dessert?” he asked.
“I want to see your ideas first.”
He studied her expression and wondered if their evening would end the way it had begun. “The living room, then.” Once she settled on the couch, he handed her the contract with the changes he’d penciled in. She leaned against him and he took comfort from the closeness.
While she read, he thought about the rumors she’d mentioned. She might be right, but why did their positions at the hospital have to
impose restraints on their relationship? This thought, so radical from his feelings when they had first met, surprised him. He no longer felt troubled by his attraction to a member of his staff.
She finally looked up. “I like the changes and the type of primary nursing you’ve envisioned. Though the changes won’t effect ICU, I bet the nurses on the med/surg floors will like the idea of being more than caretakers. “We’ll have nurses beating on the doors to work here.”
“I’m glad you approve.”
“I see one flaw. How are the changes going to be funded? I can’t see a majority of the Board offering to fund the project from the trust fund interest.”
“I’ve mailed two grant proposals out.” He kneaded her shoulder muscles. She sighed and snuggled closer. He relaxed, closed his eyes and slid into a fantasy of forever with her.
Sometime later, she straightened. “The letter from our lawyer arrives tomorrow. We’ve requested the Labor Board intervene and force negotiations with an arbitrator present.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“To help explain why we have to pretend we’re not a couple until the danger of a strike is past. I like sharing with you and it’s easy to talk.” She inhaled. “We’ll soon be on opposite sides of the table.”
He cupped her face with his hands and gently kissed her. “I...We shouldn’t let business interfere with our personal lives. Aren’t we a team?”
“Mr. Bishop told Sandra you’re no longer objective. It’s because of me.”
He held her close. “I lost my objectivity the first time I saw Bishop push the Board into voting the way he wanted.”
She rested her face against his chest. “I’ve got to go.” She pulled away and headed to the door.
“Jenessa.” By the time he reached the door, she had vanished. He considered following her, but right now, nothing he could say would change her mind. By the end of the week, he’d have proof of the conspiracy. At the Board meeting next Monday, he’d present the material.
He flipped on the television. He’d let her have tonight, but tomorrow when she returned from work, he would be waiting in her apartment. He’d tell her about his plan to confront Bishop, about his involvement in her husband’s death. He inhaled a deep breath. He might even be able to tell her he loved her.
*****
On Monday morning when Jenessa arrived in ICU, she looked at the patient list. A full compliment of fifteen. We’re going to be hopping, she thought.
“If I were you, I’d go home,” the gray-haired night nurse said.
“That bad?” Jenessa asked.
“Worse. You have four patients, two on respirators, and two major abdominal surgeries. One of them is a diabetic with every four hour coverage.”
Jenessa grabbed a clipboard. “Shoot. I’m sure they’ll send a float once they get organized, but there’s no sense waiting. Who else is here?”
“Claire, Rachel and Pam. They’re getting report in the med room and the lounge.” The older woman began report. Fifteen minutes later, she finished. “See you tonight.”
Claire strode from the lounge. Rachel was walking beside her. The dark-haired nurse waved her hands as she talked. “How do they expect us to do our jobs when they don’t give us the proper staff?” Rachel asked.
Claire smiled. “If certain people weren’t so resistant to a strike vote, our problems would be over by now.”
“Or just beginning.” Jenessa sucked in a breath. “I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to walk out.”
Claire rested her hands on her skinny hips. “I’m sure you’re not, but you seem to rule your committee. But since you’re so chummy with a member of the administration I won’t name doesn’t effect your decisions. Having your staff go on strike just three months after you arrived wouldn’t do much for a resume.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jenessa said. “My relationships have no effect on my reasons for wanting to negotiate. How would you feel if a patient died
because you walked out?”
Rachel made a face. “So tell him to find us some staff. But he doesn’t care. He’s leaving.”
Jenessa felt like a rock had landed in her gut. Just as she had told Eric last night, their relationship would hurt her chances of averting a strike. “He’s not in charge of staffing. Sandra is. She visited X-tra Hands on Friday. Maybe she was hiring temps.”
The look on Claire’s face made Jenessa wish she hadn’t divulged the information. Rachel glared. Pam stepped from the med room and came to Jenessa’s side. Just what we need, a split in the ranks when we need to be united.
“So what are we going to do?” Claire asked.
“Our best,” Jenessa said. “By taking report, we accepted responsibility for the unit.”
“One of us should call the nursing office,” Rachel said.
“They won’t help,” Pam said. “Neither will Bev. She lets them push her around.”
Claire left the station and entered the nurse manager’s office where she picked up the phone. Was she calling for help or to report a rebellion in the ranks? Jenessa studied her patient list and set priorities.
Bev strode through the double doors. “Not busy, girls?” The saccharine tone of her voice brought a rush of anger. Jenessa felt her face flush as she struggled to keep from commenting.
“Oh, please.” Sarcasm colored Rachel’s voice. “I suggest you dig up another nurse or you’re going to be down to three. There’s no way I can handle the four patients I have.”
Bev drew herself tall. “If you walk, I’ll see you never work anywhere again.”
“Let’s get started,” Jenessa said. “I’ll pitch in and help.”
Pam shook her head. “Jen, you’re crazy. With two major surgeries and two respirators, you’ll never get done.” She pointed at Bev. “Why does Claire have three patients and the easiest ones.”
“Because she’s the union president,” Rachel snapped.
Jenessa cleared her throat. “Since we’re so short, Bev, why don’t you pitch in and take some patients?”
The nurse manager turned away. “I have two committee meetings this morning and schedules to prepare this afternoon.”
“They can wait.” Jenessa grabbed her clipboard. “Why are you so willing to see us stressed out? You’ve really changed since they promoted you and the changes aren’t good.”
“Mrs. Robertson, that is enough.”
Mrs. Sikes waved the phone. “Would someone talk to the lab? Why they don’t speak English, I don’t know. I’m not going to be blamed if the numbers get transposed again.”
Jenessa reached for a notepad. “That’s the problem on this unit. No one wants to do their job. Everything is shoved on the nurses.” She took the phone and jotted down the names and figures.
When she hung up, Bev stepped in front of her. “I’ve heard enough from you.”
“Jen’s right,” Pam said.
“If the union called for a strike vote today, I’d be the first in line.” Rachel grabbed her clipboard. “Let’s go, Pam. We’re not going to get any help here.”
Jenessa walked to the med room. “Bev, why don’t you document this and pass it along to Sandra. I’ll write up my own version.”
The nurse manager scowled. “You’ll give yours to Eric Bradshaw. Just because you’re sleeping with him doesn’t give you special privileges.”
“I’ve never asked for any.”
“His resignation has been submitted. Sandra showed me a copy of the letter.”
Before she lost her cool completely, Jenessa entered the med room and closed the door. She taped the blood sugars to the cabinet and prepared a dose of insulin for the patient on coverage. When she left, she glanced toward Bev’s office. Through the glass window, she saw the nurse manager dialing the phone. When will all this gossip stop?
Had Eric really submitted his resignation? Wouldn’t he have told her? Why wasn’t he a fighter? She stopped short. He was. Though he didn’t like to stand toe
to toe the way she did, he used other methods. If he intended to resign, why was he searching for proof of a conspiracy against the hospital and applying for grants to change the direction of nursing care here?
By one thirty, an exhausted Jenessa had completed the essential care for her patients. She headed to the break room for a cup of coffee to drink in the med room while she prepared the two o’clocks.
“Mrs. Robertson,” Bev called. “Ms. Wallace wants to see you in my office immediately. Pam and Rachel are with her.”
“I can give her ten minutes.” Jenessa thought longingly about the caffeine she needed to keep moving for the seven hours left of the shift. She chewed on her lower lip. A jolt of adrenaline might have the same effect.
“You’ll give her as much time as she wants,” Bev said.
“What about my patients. Meds are due at two.”
“You have an hour’s leeway.”
Though inside she seethed, Jenessa smiled. “What’s the use of having scheduled times if we don’t try to meet them?”
“Sandra’s waiting. You’re not helping yourself with this attitude. She wants to discuss this morning’s incident and why you encouraged your co-workers to leave.”
Jenessa’s eyes widened. Had Pam and Rachel blamed her? She strode into the office. The two nurses shook their heads. Sandra sat at Bev’s desk. “Mrs. Robertson, I understand you believe you should have refused to accept the unit this morning.”
“But,” Pam began.
“I wasn’t addressing you.”
Jenessa leaned against the door frame. “We were upset by the lack of staff. The ICU patient to nurse ratio should be two to one, and in an emergency three. Three of us have four patients. Chronic understaffing is not an emergency.”
“You will cease agitating,” Sandra said.
Jenessa straightened. “I encouraged the others to do their best. I don’t know who fed you these lies.”
A respirator alarm sounded. Jenessa bolted from the room.
“Just where are you going?” Sandra shouted. “I’m not finished with you.”
On Opposite Sides Page 13
