On Opposite Sides

by Walters, Janet Lane;

  Which respirator, Jenessa wondered. The respiratory therapist dashed into Tommy’s cubicle. Jenessa grabbed the code care and hit the button on the wall beside the door.

  Dr. Carter, Pam, Claire and the house doctor followed her inside. Jenessa opened the med drawer.

  Twenty minutes later, Dr. Carter called EEG. A technician arrived and connected the electrodes to Tommy’s head. The wheezing of the respirator underlay the orders the house doctor called. When Dr. Carter examined the electroencephalogram strip, he shook his head. Jenessa looked at the cardiac monitor on the wall above Tommy’s head. She refused to admit the lines represented the steady compression of the respirator and not an independent action of the boy’s heart.

  Dr. Carter left the room. Jenessa stared at Tommy’s ashen face and his pale, staring eyes. She wished she could pour some of her desire and determination into him. Dr. Carter returned. He examined another strip. “Time,” he said. “Shut down the respirator. His parents have refused permission for organ donation.”

  Jenessa leaned against the cart. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Pam and Claire disconnected tubes and equipment. Jenessa’s shoulders slumped. She had failed to keep her promise to Tommy or herself.

  Dr. Carter put his arm around her shoulders. “Sorry, child. We could have gone on forever with the same result.”

  “But,” she began.

  “You poured a lot of care into him. I know the memories this case had brought back. You did your best for Chuck and for Tommy. You tried and that’s the most anyone can do.”

  She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. He was right, but she had wanted a miracle to stop the spiral of guilt she’d felt for so long. She looked up. “Thank you.”

  He patted her shoulder. “I’ll tell his parents. Let me know when they can come in.”

  “Give us ten minutes,” Pam said.

  “Jen, we’ll finish here,” Claire said. “Go get a cup of coffee.”

  Jenessa stepped out of the cubicle. Sandra strode from the nurse manager’s office. “Now that’s over with, we can deal with the more important matters.”

  “More important.” Jenessa’s voice rose to a shrill pitch. “Just what could be more important than someone’s life?”

  “Mrs. Robertson, please, there’s no need to become hysterical. Everyone knew there was no hope for the boy.”

  Jenessa fought for control. “There’s always hope. Maybe you should take a refresher course and do some real nursing for a change. You might learn what it is to be a nurse.”

  “One more comment like that and you’re fired.”

  “I don’t think so. The union will back me and you’ll have a fight on your hands. Do you think Mr. Bishop will protect you when you embroil the hospital in a costly law suit? What’s between the pair of you, any way?”

  “Less than is between you and Mr. Bradshaw.” Sandra straightened her suit jacket. Her gaze was pure venom. “He may be charming and virile, but he’s on his way out and you’ll be right behind him.”

  Jenessa shook her head. “Not unless I resign. The quality of my care and my past evaluations tell what kind of nurse I am. I don’t need anyone to get me a job or help me keep the one I have.”

  Sandra smiled. “Did you know Eric was the ICU supervisor at Claremont Hospital during the time your husband was a patient? He made the decision that left the unit poorly staffed.”

  Jenessa’s hands clenched. Each of Sandra’s words felt like a dagger stabbed into her chest. She slid past the assistant D.O.N. and ran to the break room.

  *****

  When Eric heard the code called and the location, he tried to hurry the meeting with the nurse manager of Pediatrics, but her list of complaints about staff and administration stretched endlessly. When she finally ran down, he took her list and promised to investigate every complaint. He hurried from the second floor down the stairs to ICU.

  As he opened the door, the first words he heard were Sandra’s. “Did you know Eric was the ICU supervisor at Claremont Hospital when your husband was a patient? He made the decision that left the unit poorly staffed.” He stopped and waited for Jenessa’s response. She said nothing and ran to the break room.

  “Jenessa,” he called.

  The look of satisfaction on Sandra’s face brought a rush of anger. He strode toward her. “I’ll see you upstairs in an hour to discuss your capability for handling staffing.”

  She laughed. “It’ll take more than an hour to get back into her graces. She knows the truth about you and that you have no more concern for the nurses and patients than I do.”

  He refused to take the time to explain the differences between his decision and hers. “One hour. We’ll discuss your resignation.”

  “You can’t fire me. The Board hired me.”

  “We’ll see.” Eric strode away. She couldn’t know how damning his evidence was. He had documented proof of the number of times she had left one of the units short when an extra nurse had been available.

  Outside the break room, he paused to let the anger and annoyance with Sandra fade. Once he reached calmness, he opened the door. “Jenessa.”

  She turned. “You could have told me. I would have understood.”

  “Would you have? Ever since I arrived, I’ve heard stories about the way you blamed your husband’s death on short staffing. Would you have been able to listen to my explanations?”

  “Not at first, but later, I think I could have. I know there were other factors.” She took a deep breath. “How did Sandra learn?”

  “From my resume and probably a few phone calls.” He closed the door. “I tried to tell you several times.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “The timing was wrong. The words wouldn’t come. I’m not making excuses for my silence. Would you like to hear the entire story?”

  She shook her head. “Not now. Too much has happened today.” She looked at him. Her eyes held a blank expression. “I know he couldn’t have survived.”

  Did she mean her husband or Tommy Greene? He wanted to go to her, to hold, kiss and comfort her, but not here where the eyes of every one of her co-workers were focused on the glass panel of the door. When he’d followed Jenessa, he had seen curiosity on every face. If he touched her, the tale would circulate through the hospital faster than dextrose through an open intravenous line. Gossip had been her reason for striving to put a distance between them. He would give her that space now.

  “Why don’t you go home?” he asked.

  She pushed away from the counter. “How can I do that? There are four of us for fifteen...no, fourteen patients.”

  “CCU has had an extra nurse since seven AM and there’s another assigned to Three East at three. I’ve pulled them both.”

  “That witch.”

  “My sentiments exactly. She and I are scheduled to have a discussion.”

  “Alone?”

  “With several of the supervisors.” As she moved past him, he touched her hand. “Go home and come down tonight.”

  “I can’t do either. I need time and space.”

  He turned and watched her walk away. He couldn’t let matters between them end this way. If she couldn’t come to him, he would go to her. He left the break room and headed for the nursing office.

  *****

  When Jenessa left the break room, Rachel grabbed her arm. “Are you all right?”

  “I will be, but I have several late meds to give and then error forms to fill out.”

  “You don’t have to do either. Bev may have changed since they promoted her, but sometimes her old self returns. She gave the twos and threes for Claire, Pam and you while I did treatments.”

  “Thanks.” Jenessa smiled. “Guess I’d better go eat some crow.”

  “No more than a cubic centimeter. She should have pitched in this morning.” Rachel moved away. “I didn’t tell Sandra you were stirring trouble.”

  “I never thought you had. I’m always the one they blame. Want to hear the kicker? We’re
getting two nurses.”

  The doors opened. “Right about now, and one of them has been on CCU since seven.”

  Rachel snapped her fingers. “Strike, Jen. We’ve got to strike.”

  Before Jenessa marshaled her arguments, the ICU doors opened again. Jim Bishop barreled in. He waved an envelope and charged toward Jenessa. “You...You...” He grabbed her arm and dragged her to Bev’s office.”

  “Let me go, Mr. Bishop.”

  “I have some things to say to you, little girl.”

  His grip tightened. Inside the office, he released her. Jenessa crossed her arms on her chest. “Assault,” she said.

  “I don’t give a hockey puck what you call it. Did Eric put you up to calling the Labor Board?”

  “Believe it or not, some of us little girls have brains. Besides, our union attorney has been pushing us to take this step ever since we presented copies of the terms we want to see in our contract. Foolishly, we had faith in the Board’s good intentions. You’ll have to meet us now.”

  “Not until there’s an official order for arbitration. Little girl, you’ve going to be surprised with what happens next.”

  She smiled and stepped to the door. “Nothing you do surprises me. Look, Mr. Bishop, I’d like to stay and talk, but I have patients who need me.” She walked away. Her shoulders tensed in expectation of being grabbed again. Moments later, she saw him leave. If the rest of the day was filled with moments like these past few, she’d have enough adrenaline in her veins to carry her through the next month.

  Chapter 11

  At seven thirty, Eric stood outside the door of Jenessa’s apartment. If Megan cooperated, he would be inside waiting Jenessa’s arrival from the hospital. Then what, he wondered. The worst scenario showed her shoving him out the door. Not that he would blame her. His hesitancy, his allowing diversion, although exciting and fulfilling, had given Sandra the chance to drop a bomb of information that may have fractured any chance of a life with Jenessa.

  He rang the bell. Megan opened the door a crack. “She’s not here and why she’d want to talk to you, I don’t know.”

  “I know she isn’t here, and doesn’t want to talk to me, but --” He put his hand on the door. “If I’m waiting here, she’ll have to listen.

  Megan opened the door wider. “You really think so. Jen’s not much for listening, but you’ll certainly make the end of her day equal to the beginning.”

  He strode past her. “I guess you heard about Sandra’s announcement.”

  “Which one? That you were ICU supervisor at Claremont or that Sandra has a copy of your letter of resignation. Why her? The Board is supposed to receive resignations from all those who are part of administration.”

  “What letter?”

  “The one Sandra’s showing to select people. My nurse manager says she saw it. Why didn’t you tell Jenessa? Are you proud of what you did at Claremont?”

  “I never doubted my decision and if the same situation arose again, I’d do the same.” He sat on the couch. “I’m glad you’re concerned, but my explanations are for Jenessa. I’d like to wait here for her.”

  She grabbed her purse. “I was on my way out. Wait, but don’t be surprised if she pushes you out the door.”

  He smiled. “Then I’ll stand in the hall and shout my explanations so everyone in the apartment building will hear.”

  Megan laughed. “If my brother didn’t need me to watch Johnny, I’d hide in the bedroom.” She paused at the door. “I think you’re good for her, but so much has gotten in the way. She hates all the gossip and accusations.”

  “Do you think I like them?”

  “Good luck.” She closed the door.

  He settled against the cushions. Megan was right. Too much had gotten in the way. The problems at the hospital had put too many barriers in the road he wanted to speed down. This afternoon, he’d been in a meeting with the supervisors to discuss staffing patterns, a meeting Sandra had ducked. A meeting Bishop had stormed in to interrupt. The Board president had announced a special meeting for the hospital Board tomorrow at eight.

  “What’s so important that it can’t wait until next Monday?” Eric had asked.

  “This last little trick those damned girls have pulled.” The veins in the man’s thick neck had visibly throbbed. “We’re going to cut their feathers and watch them crash.”

  Eric had groaned then, and a groan escaped now. His brother had promised to fax the information on MASCHCO’s stockholders to the Cove as soon as he had the facts. Not good enough. Partial proof wouldn’t convince the Board to act against Bishop. Eric believed he had enough proof of Sandra’s incompetence to prevent her from becoming D.O.N. if he was fired.

  He rose and paced across the dark blue carpet. Several framed photographs on the wall caught his attention. He examined one of three children. The blonde with the flyaway curls had to be Megan. The grin of the second girl was so like Jenessa’s that he grinned back. The third child -- a boy with inky black hair -- scowled and grasped Jenessa’s hand.

  Chuck! Eric felt a reaction that surprised him. How could he be jealous of a dead man? The answer nearly made him bolt from the apartment. He returned to the couch and tried to assimilate the new knowledge. Now what? he wondered.

  He closed his eyes. Jenessa was due soon. Where should he begin? With the night her husband had died? With the special Board meeting? When the door opened, he still hadn’t decided.

  Jenessa strode into the living room. Her white uniform showed signs of her hectic day. Strands of hair had escaped from her braid and curled around her face. She stood with her jacket in her hands and her mouth open.

  “Jenessa.” He rose and stepped toward her. He needed her; he wanted her, but there was more. He loved her. “Jenessa.”

  “What are you doing here?” Her jacket dropped on the carpet between them.

  “Megan let me in.”

  “And you can let yourself out.”

  “I know you’re angry, but we need to talk about what happened today and about some other developments at the hospital.”

  She turned away. “I’m not angry. Just disappointed in you and myself.” She whirled. “Why did I have to hear it from her?”

  As though expecting a blow, his abdominal muscles tightened. He sucked in a deep breath. “The first time I saw you, I wanted you. Then I heard about how you blamed your husband’s death on short-staffing and realized my decision had caused you pain. If I’d told you them, you would have walked away.”

  She nodded. “I would have and probably worse. I’m not known for a subtle approach. But later, you could have said something.”

  “And you would have pushed me away. I saw how much you loved your husband.”

  The expression on her face puzzled him. She reached the entrance to the hall. “Go home. I...”

  He crossed the room. When he reached her, he turned her to face him. His mouth covered hers. His body tensed. Her mouth felt like a thin, tight band. He ran his tongue over her lips. Her surrender came so gradually that he nearly released her before he felt her body curve to meet his. He released her lips.

  “I’ll never keep secrets from you again.”

  She looked up. “What about your resignation? Would you have waited until you cleared out your office and the movers carried your furniture to their van?”

  “I haven’t resigned.”

  “Then how could my nurse manager have seen a letter from you?”

  A memory played in his thoughts. Now long ago, he’d sat in his office at the hospital and jotted reasons for resigning. But he’d crumpled the paper and tossed it in the wastebasket. “If there’s a letter, it’s a forgery. There were some notes I made and scrapped when I realized I couldn’t leave until I found the answers Sam wanted when he persuaded me to apply for the job.”

  “Then how could Sandra produce one?”

  The irony of the situation made him smile. Though he’d searched Sandra’s office, he hadn’t expected her to look in his. “Sandra
must have gone through my trash.”

  Jenessa rested her head against his chest. “She’ll see that Bishop has a copy and he’ll present it to the Board with a call to accept your resignation.”

  “I can’t deny I wrote the note, but I’ll explain my frustrations and let them know I have no intention of leaving.”

  “What about the things we’ve learned? We’ll have our proof of the conspiracy before the next Board meeting.”

  He stroked her back. “Not unless we’re magicians. The Board meets tomorrow evening for a special session at eight.”

  “Tomorrow. The negotiating committee along with the steering committee meets too.” She pushed free. Her anger and his explanations had to wait. “Let me shower and change. We need to plan some strategy.”

  Eric grinned. “Need some help?”

  When she remembered Sunday morning and how his presence had nearly made her late for work, her heart beat in a staccato rhythm. “I’ll take a raincheck.” She waited until he returned to the living room before dashing to her bedroom for jeans and a sweatshirt. She showered like an efficiency expert trying to trim five minutes from a record. After dressing, she rebraided her hair. Leaving it free would distract him. She fastened the end and entered the living room.

  “So what are we going to do about these meetings?” she asked. “Maybe we could hit them with what we know.”

  “And have them bury the things we still need to discover? I thought I would hand out copies of the contract you and I put together. If I can get them into a discussion of its merits, Bishop might be forced to consider.”

  She laughed. “You’d have a better chance of teaching a dog to fly. He wants us to walk out. Why else would he call a special meeting?”

  “The reason he gave was the union’s request for the presence of the Labor Board in negotiations.”

  She nodded. “If binding arbitration begins, his plans may be frozen. Did you call the broker?”

  He shook his head. “I knew there was something I meant to do. I’ll call tomorrow.”