The Funny Thing about Love: Feel Good Sweet Romance stories

by Laura Burton

  Jennifer opened her mouth to reply, and promptly shut it again when no sound came out.

  Laura wasn’t finished yet. “As much as I appreciate you giving me a job when I needed it, I can’t do it any longer. I want to work somewhere that I’m allowed to care about the patients. That place is not here. And at least St Matthew’s is close to home; I won’t have to battle traffic to get there. I’m sorry, Jennifer. I’d hoped that it would work out. But I want us to still get along as sisters, and if I stay here, it will destroy our relationship.”

  As Laura went to help with the next appointment, Jennifer felt a swirling torrent of anxiety rising inside her. How would she manage to replace Laura by the end of the week? She absolutely must find someone else. The thought of being forced to help Annette peer up backsides while the office ran amok was unbearable.

  “I called this staff meeting because I have something to tell you all.” Annette Thomas looked around the staff room. All eyes were on her, and she continued. “What I’m about to tell you is a difficult thing to do.” She paused, and took a deep breath.

  Jennifer felt as if she would suffocate. She gulped in air as Annette started to speak again.

  “I’ve been diagnosed with a serious health problem,” she said. “Therefore, in the interests of caring for my health, I’m retiring, at least for the foreseeable future.”

  A gasp went around the room. Surely not! Annette had been a part of the clinic forever. And she’d always been fit and healthy.

  Jennifer felt a wave of shock rising inside, followed by dismay. How could this be happening mere hours after Laura’s resignation?

  “I’ll be leaving in three weeks,” Annette said. “It’ll be sooner if I can arrange it.”

  “But … but … what about the patients?” Jennifer’s voice sounded high-pitched and nervous, even to her. “They’re booked months in advance!”

  “I know this is going to be hard for everyone,” Annette said, turning sympathetic eyes on Jennifer. “Believe me, I wouldn’t do it unless I had to.”

  “But …” Jennifer trailed off as she realized that Annette’s health had to come first. There was nothing more to say.

  “I’ll try to arrange a replacement before I leave,” Annette said. “I have some contacts. Even if I can’t find someone full-time, I’ll try to get a locum.”

  Jennifer groaned internally. It was difficult to work with these temporary physicians who came for short periods, then left again. As soon as they became accustomed to how the clinic operated, they left. Besides, the patients needed the continuity of care that a permanent physician provided. There was no fast answer to this problem.

  That night, Jennifer tossed and turned, unable to sleep as she thought about the sudden changes about to rock her life. In a single day, her well-ordered world had turned into chaos. She felt out of control, tossed to and fro by the currents of mayhem that were so vexing to live with.

  Chapter 2

  “Have you found another nurse yet?” Annette asked as Jennifer got ready to assist with a procedure.

  Jennifer rolled her eyes. “I’ve only had two days of trying,” she said. “So far, I haven’t found any nurses who like poking around in patients’ backsides. It’s not a job that appeals to everyone.”

  “Perhaps we need to increase the pay a little,” Annette suggested. “Anyway, I have some news for you.”

  “What?”

  “I was speaking to my old friend Pat MacKlenna. We trained together, and she’s an excellent surgeon and good with the patients.” Annette paused to check the patient’s files.

  “Go on, I’m interested,” Jennifer said.

  “She’s been at this now for nearly thirty years.”

  “So, she’s experienced; that’s good.”

  “She was saying last time we spoke that she’d like to get out of New York. She wants a quieter lifestyle with less stress, and has been looking at opportunities in regional areas.”

  “Well, the lifestyle here is great! Did you tell her that?”

  Annette nodded. “I did. And guess what!”

  “What?”

  “She said yes!”

  Jennifer felt like jumping for joy. “That’s great news!” she exclaimed.

  Annette smiled. “I thought you’d be happy,” she said. “Pat will fit into the culture of our workplace well; she’s a lot like me in the way she works. I think you’ll get along with her just fine.”

  “I’m so relieved!” Jennifer exclaimed. “I was wondering what would happen to all the patients we have booked ahead.”

  “I’ve offered it to her for twelve months with the option to extend if it’s mutually satisfactory,” Annette replied, checking the instruments on the tray. “I’m hoping I might be able to return if I can get on top of my health issues by then.”

  “Yes, you need to look after yourself,” Jennifer agreed.

  “If I come back and Pat wants to stay, there are enough patients for both of us,” Annette said.

  “So, now what?” asked Jennifer.

  “We need to email her with the offer.” Annette pointed at a piece of paper on her desk. “The details are on there,” she said. “All you need to do is type them up into an email, go to the national register, and find her email address. She said she’ll be able to start the day after I leave, so there should be no disruption to the appointments.”

  “This has turned out better than I’d hoped,” Jennifer said. It was satisfying when things fell into place easily. “I thought it might be hard to find someone.”

  “I’m glad Pat said yes,” Annette admitted. “I was concerned about leaving without having someone to replace me.”

  “It’s been a good outcome,” Jennifer said. “Are we ready for this patient?”

  “Let’s do it!”

  It was late afternoon before Jennifer had time to type up the offer for Pat MacKlenna. She meticulously checked the details that Annette had given her to make sure she left nothing out. She couldn’t believe their good fortune. It sounded as if Pat would be a lot like Annette; reliable, sensible, good with the patients, and a skilled surgeon. It was almost too good to be true.

  When the email was ready to go, she went to the national register for colorectal surgeons. She loaded up the page of surnames that started with M and began to scroll through them. Ah, there it was, right at the bottom of the page.

  Just then, the phone rang. Jennifer looked at the time; it was only five minutes until the clinic closed. Fifteen minutes later, she was still on the phone, trying to listen sympathetically as the elderly caller complained about how much her hemorrhoids hurt, sparing no details. At this rate, Jennifer would never get home; she was supposed to be seeing a movie with a friend at 6. She grabbed the email address from the register and fired off the email to Pat. At least that was one job she could finish while she listened to the litany of disasters.

  “And then, the cat tripped me over and I landed on my heinie,” the old woman was saying. “It made it hurt worse than ever!”

  “I’m sure it did, Mrs. Spicer,” Jennifer replied, desperately thinking of a gracious way to escape. All of the staff dreaded Mrs. Spicer’s calls.

  “Do you know what else happened?”

  “Uh, why don’t we talk about that when you come for your appointment next week?” Jennifer asked.

  “All right, dear. I’ll tell you all about it then.”

  Heaving a sigh of relief, Jennifer replaced the phone and looked at the clock. Everyone else had gone home and there was no way she was going to answer any more calls or do another thing for the day. She quickly checked her inbox just in case there was some emergency that demanded her attention but found nothing. She gathered up her belongings and jacket and locked the door. She was going to enjoy her evening with her friend; she felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders now that they’d found another surgeon to replace Annette. True, she still had to find another nurse, but they could get by with a temp from the agency for a little while i
f they had to. It was easier to find a replacement nurse than another doctor. She almost felt like humming a little tune and skipping as she made her way to her car. But she decided to hang onto her dignity. She’d probably fall over and make a fool of herself.

  THREE WEEKS LATER

  A feeling of sadness washed over Jennifer as she got ready for work. Today would be Annette’s last day. The staff had all gone out for a farewell dinner the night before, where they’d laughed and recalled memories of the eventful years that Annette had spent at the clinic. Now, she would say one final farewell, and walk out of the clinic for the last time. Jennifer sincerely hoped that Annette would be able to regain her health and vitality. There would always be a place for her at the clinic should she wish to return.

  “I’ll be leaving at lunchtime,” Annette said as she arrived. “I was going to stay till the end of the day, but I only had my rounds at the hospital booked in for this afternoon. I’ll leave early and do them. I have some things I must get done before my flight leaves in the morning.”

  “That’s fine. You do what you need to, and we’ll just carry on,” Jennifer told her, feeling a little deflated. Annette was a calm, steady presence at the clinic and Jennifer was going to miss her. She only hoped Pat would be the same.

  The day didn’t go smoothly. One of the urologists, Dr Walker, got caught up in an emergency surgery and his secretary, Tanya, was stressed out as she dealt with irate patients who’d been waiting for months, only to have their appointments cancelled at the last minute. It wasn’t directly Jennifer’s problem but she found herself picking up on the undercurrents of tension in the office.

  Then the photocopier broke down, leaving Jennifer scrambling to find a repairman who could do the job quickly; they couldn’t afford to wait a week. In the meantime, she had to dig through the storeroom to see if the little old desktop printer that Annette had used was still there. It was, and it still worked. That was a bonus, but it was incredibly slow, and Jennifer suspected that the ink cartridge would run dry long before the photocopier was going again. Still, it was better than nothing.

  And then there was the problem of a reliable nurse. Jennifer called the agency for the third time that week.

  “The nurse you were sending us hasn’t turned up,” she complained. “This is the third time this week. What’s going on?”

  “Well, the first nurse had sudden family issues she had to deal with. She hasn’t worked at all this week. The second one got sick. The third one was supposed to be the one you had yesterday. But she found full-time employment. She didn’t like looking up people’s bottoms, anyway. She said it made her the butt of too many jokes.”

  Jennifer groaned at the awful pun. Great. Today she would be the nurse again. She was irritated at the agency for not contacting them about the problem; not that it would’ve made any difference. They still didn’t have a spare nurse to send. It was lucky that Annette only had a handful of patients booked in. Jennifer had so much work to get through in the office that she might be centuries old before she finished it.

  By the end of the day, she felt tired and frazzled. Annette’s departure had been an anti-climax, a rushed goodbye in between phone calls before Annette scurried off to her new life. Jennifer was sad to see her go, but too busy to give her departure the attention and emotion that it deserved.

  Finally, the waiting room was empty, and there was a lull between phone calls. Jennifer heaved a sigh as she tidied up the loose ends of the day, hoping that tomorrow would go smoothly when Pat started. She was startled when the door opened and a man walked in.

  “Hello, can I help you?” she asked, puzzled.

  She was sure he wasn’t a patient, and he didn’t look like a deliveryman. Far from it. He was of average height, with dark, wavy hair and broad shoulders. Dark blue twill chinos were a perfect fit on his powerful legs. A crisp white shirt was the perfect match for the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. In response to her question, he smiled, revealing perfect white teeth in a heart-melting grin. She felt her heart skip a beat.

  “I’m Pat,” he said, extending his hand across the counter.

  Was that an Irish accent? She took his hand and felt heat racing up her arm. “Nice to meet you, Pat,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt. “What can I do for you?”

  “I thought I’d come by and meet the staff before I start tomorrow,” he said.

  Start tomorrow? Was that what he’d just said? She stared at him; her mind blank. What was he saying? She couldn’t seem to get the words out.

  “Start tomorrow?” she asked faintly.

  “Yes. You have appointments lined up for me, don’t you?”

  Was he really asking about working here? She had no idea what he was talking about.

  “Appointments?” she asked, hoping he didn’t think she was a total idiot.

  “Yes. I’m Pat MacKenna, proctologist,” he said. “I’ll be replacing Annette Thomas.”

  Horror filled her as she realized what he was saying. “But … but … you’re a man!” she blurted before she could stop herself. She stared at him with wide eyes, trying to grasp this dizzying turn of events.

  “Yes, I’ve been one all my life,” he replied cheerfully. “It was kind of you to notice,” he added, a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes.

  “But … but …” she spluttered, “you’re supposed to be …”

  “A woman?” he finished.

  She clapped her hand over her mouth and nodded miserably. To her horror, she felt her eyes filling with tears as the stress and problems of the past few weeks took their toll.

  In a flash, he was beside her. He put his arm lightly around her shoulders as she sat in front of her computer, rubbing her upper arm gently with his thumb.

  “There, there,” he soothed in his soft Irish brogue. “No one but my mother has cried because I’m a man. She wanted a girl and she got me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jennifer sniffed, utterly mortified at breaking into tears in front of this hunky man who apparently would soon be working with her. “Can I blame it on stress and hormones and nurses that quit?”

  “That would be enough to make an onion cry,” he agreed. “You were obviously expecting someone else, but tell me, can I start tomorrow, or will I be cast out on the streets to beg for a few crusts?”

  Despite herself, she smiled. She couldn’t imagine someone with his skills and looks going hungry. “There’s plenty of work waiting here for you,” she said. “There’s been a misunderstanding. But we’ll sort it out.”

  “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” he said, laughter in his Irish lilt as he moved away. “What’s your name, by the way? We were too busy establishing my gender to get to that part.”

  Jennifer chuckled despite her misery. “It’s Jennifer,” she said. “And I really am pleased to meet you, Pat.”

  “Oh, that’s a relief,” he said. “I thought I was going to be in your bad books because I’m a man.”

  “Not today,” she countered. “You never know about tomorrow!”

  “We’ll let tomorrow’s problems find us then,” he said, giving her a wink. “What time is my first appointment?”

  “At 9 am,” she replied.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said, giving her a wave as he went out the door.

  Jennifer watched him go, a torrent of emotions swirling around inside. He was quite possibly the most attractive man she’d ever met. But how on earth had he turned up instead of Annette’s friend? And what would she do when the other Pat arrived tomorrow? In a state of near-panic, she opened the national register, trying to figure out what went wrong. She scrolled down to the bottom of the page containing the surnames that began with M, searching for the contact details she’d used.

  There it was. Pat MacKenna from Brooklyn, New York. Yes, that was where she’d sent the offer.

  She loaded up page two. There, right at the top of the page, was Pat MacKlenna, from Manhattan, New York.

/>   Humiliation sizzled through her body, twisting her stomach into a knot and curling her toes. How could she have made such a rookie error? She, of all people, the person who was so pedantic about details and fact-checking! This was a blunder of monstrous proportions, and she had no idea how to fix it. Tears threatened again as she looked around the empty office, wondering if there would be room for two proctologists named Pat. What sort of rotten luck was it, to have two people with such similar names in the same profession? Never had she found herself in the midst of such a monumental disaster. And it was entirely her own fault.

  Chapter 3

  Patrick MacKenna whistled cheerfully as he got ready for work. He was looking forward to starting this new position despite the rocky start. Jennifer, the receptionist, had clearly been expecting someone else. He grinned as he recalled her shock when she realized that the new proctologist was a man. He’d never faced that kind of a reaction to his gender before. Still, she’d reassured him that he could start work today, and he wasn’t going to argue. He would allow her to sort out whatever mishap had caused her to believe that someone else would be arriving instead of him.

  When the offer had popped up in his inbox, Pat knew it was what he’d been looking for. He was tired of working around the city as a locum; he’d been a partner in a successful practice for many years until his wife complained that she saw little of him. He’d recognized the need for a better work-life balance and had sold his share of the partnership. Instead, he’d taken on temporary positions that paid well and required no commitment. It had been a good lifestyle at first; he could choose when he wanted to work and which jobs he took on.