The Nurse Novel

by Alice Brennan

  A woman, middle-aged, heavy and perspiring, got on the bus. She swayed for a few moments, desperately trying to hang onto a strap. Merry, after a glance at her, got up and offered her a seat. The woman didn’t hesitate. With a grateful smile at Merry, she lunged for the seat. “Oh, thanks.”

  When the three girls alighted near the hospital, Tammy shot Merry a withering glance. “What was that for, there on the bus?” she asked her. “That woman wasn’t ill or old or crippled or pregnant. She’ll probably spend most of the day lying on a nice, soft sofa nibbling at candy and drinking a cold drink. While you are going to be on your feet for a good eight hours.”

  Merry shrugged. “She looked tired. I felt sorry for her. How do you know that she isn’t on her way to a job too, where she’ll have to stand up for eight hours? And even if she isn’t, she’s probably got her own particular problems.”

  Tammy shook her head and observed scornfully, “Don’t we all? And anyhow, she looked like a parasite to me, a fat, do-nothing parasite. Fat people simply turn my stomach.”

  Merry said, “You probably had a trauma when you were a child, involving a fat person.”

  “Oh, ho,” Tammy said, “if we’re going to get into psychology, just remember I had a year of it, too.”

  Agnes said quietly, “Let her alone.” Bitterly, “Someone has to believe in the worth of people.”

  Tammy turned her head to look at Agnes. “Of course you do,” she said.

  Agnes said carefully, “I loathe most people.”

  “Well!” Tammy said. “Seems everybody’s in a mood. I think I’ll just keep my little old mouth shut.”

  * * * *

  The fifth floor was a whirl of bustling, routine activity as Merry stepped off the elevator. There was a lift in her spirits. She loved the hospital. She’d entered nurse’s training because it had offered a sort of safety…a refuge. But now being a nurse was part of her.

  There was a slight frown between her eyes as she walked towards the nursing station. Maybe fate had willed that she would meet a Tom so that heartbreak and disillusion would force her to find the way to what she was really meant to be all along.

  She turned her head to smile at a little candy striper hurrying by. “Gosh,” the younger girl said, “one thing I’ve found out, nurses don’t need to diet. They run it off!”

  Merry laughed out loud, and the nurse at the desk lifted her head to look. She said dryly, “You must have had a very good night’s sleep to sound like that first thing in the morning.”

  Merry said, “I always sleep well.”

  A tall, red-headed nurse standing at the other side of the desk quipped, “That’s because she has such a clear conscience.”

  “Of course,” Merry retorted, and picking up the chart, she walked down the corridor to Pierson Webb’s room.

  When she opened the door he was sitting up in bed looking glum and depressed. She opened the heavy drapes that crowded the windows, and he roared, “What the hell are you doing?”

  She said calmly, “Letting some sunlight in here.”

  He gave a snort. “Sunlight!”

  She turned to look at him. “The sun really is going to shine today,” she told him.

  “Sure, sure,” he said. “The sun’s going to shine, the clouds are going to disappear, the end of the rainbow’s going to be found.” He picked up a cigar that was on the stand by his bed and stuck it in his mouth, glaring at Merry.

  “Who do you think you’re kidding?” he asked.

  She shook her head at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “And don’t pull that Little Miss Innocent on me,” he flung at her. “Being so solicitous for my comfort and not asking anything from me. Don’t think you’re kidding me with that Florence Nightingale jazz. You want something and one of these days I’ll figure out what.”

  Merry said carefully, “I asked you about a screen test for a friend of mine. I didn’t want to ask you, but I did, because she’s my friend. Other than that, I’m a nurse. I’m only doing my job.”

  He snorted. “That was a cover up to try and fool me into thinking you were different from these other bastards. But you’re not fooling me, Miss Sweetness and Light. I’m pretty good at finding out the answer to things, and I’ll find out the answer to you one of these days.”

  Merry thought, “And death, Mr. Webb? Will you find out the answer to that, too?”

  She gave him her cool, professional smile and said, “You’re going home tomorrow.”

  His eyes narrowed at her over the unlit cigar. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She said, “Most patients are happy to be going home.”

  He shrugged. “Who’s happy about anything?” There was a wistful note in his voice that trembled there for just a breath before he blew it out in a roar. “I suppose you believe in happiness and love and all that jazz thought up by some publicity agent.”

  Merry said lightly, “Most times I do.”

  Pity for him was full in her throat as she left the room. It was one thing to die. It was another thing to die with the knowledge there would be no one to grieve for you, that your life had been only a successful emptiness.

  She wondered if Pierson Webb knew he was going to die. Sometimes a patient knew, even though he wasn’t told.

  * * * *

  There was only one reporter waiting for her when she left the hospital by the back entrance: the short, balding one, who caught up with her and jabbed his cigar towards her face. “Now listen, doll…”

  “No!” Merry said fiercely. “You listen! I’m sick and tired of being hounded by you reporters. Mr. Webb is going home tomorrow. I won’t be taking care of him when he leaves the hospital, so you can leave me alone!”

  “How’s his condition?” the reporter, persisted. “Is he going to be okay to direct again?”

  Merry’s voice was angrier. “If he weren’t all right,” she said, “he wouldn’t be leaving the hospital.”

  She saw the bus coming and ran for it, thinking wildly, “I have to make this one. I have to make it.”

  She climbed up the step and sank into one of the two remaining seats, feeling tired and dispirited.

  She walked into the apartment to the sound of the ringing telephone.

  Tammy, who was already home, called from the kitchen, “That’s probably Jeff Morrow. He’s called twice in the last half hour.” She sounded as if she was grinning. “It must be urgent.”

  Merry’s first thought was to refuse to answer the phone, and then she told herself coldly that by doing that, she’d admit her heart was starting to show.

  She walked over, picked up the receiver and managed a cool “Hello.”

  Chapter Seven

  Morning was always a hectic time for the three girls. They ate breakfast literally on the run, and it wasn’t until they were safely on the bus that they allowed themselves to relax.

  “Well, give,” Tammy demanded of Merry, in her crispest, shiniest voice. “Where did Jeff take you last night?”

  “Olvera Street,” Merry said.

  “You’re crazy,” Tammy sputtered. “Nobody goes to Olvera Street. Nobody except tourists.”

  Merry laughed. “It’s only been three months since I was a tourist. I’ve never been there before. It was fun.”

  It was she who had suggested Olvera Street, which was an all-Mexican street in the oldest part of Los Angeles. Jeff had laughed and shaken his head at her. “All right. Why not? You’re certainly not going to be the most expensive girl I’ve ever taken out.”

  They had parked the car and walked in through the garlanded arch that was the entrance, and later, as they’d strolled through some of the little shops, Merry had discovered that they were holding hands like two school kids. Like two…lovers.

  She flushed now remembering how quickly she’d drawn her hand from his,
as if his touch burned her. He had asked carefully, “Still the girl who doesn’t like being touched?”

  Merry had protested quickly, “No, it isn’t that…”

  “The one doing the touching?” He’d frowned at her, but there had been a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

  “Now you’re being ridiculous,” she’d said, hating herself for blushing.

  He had laughed, but he hadn’t tried to hold her hand again.

  Later when they were sitting at a sidewalk table eating enchiladas and drinking beer, the bent old Mexican serving them smiled broadly and muttered something in Spanish which she didn’t understand.

  Jeff’s eyes had twinkled at her across the table. “He thinks we’re honeymooners,” he said. “He asks God to bless us with many children.”

  Merry had stumbled to her feet immediately. “I think we’d better be leaving,” she said. “It’s getting late.”

  He had raised a dark brow. “Late? It’s exactly twelve and one-half minutes after nine o’clock. Sit down. I thought you told me you were going to try a taco when you finished the enchilada.”

  She had shaken her head at him. “I’m really not at all hungry. I…”

  He’d pushed her gently but firmly back into her chair. “Waste not, want not. My mother always preached that. So finish your enchilada.”

  Because she had not wished to make a scene, she had carefully finished every bite of it. She had wiped her hands on the napkin and looked coldly at Jeff.

  “I’ve finished. May we leave now?”

  “If you’re quite sure you’ve finished.” He had reached over and brushed some imaginary crumbs from her mouth. “You don’t want everyone knowing what you had for dinner, do you?”

  Merry had flushed and gotten up abruptly, walking quickly ahead of him.

  He had caught up with her, catching her lightly by one arm, and pulling her to a stop. “Did you ever try the hundred-yard dash? Nobody walks as fast as you’re walking unless they’re trying for a record.”

  “That horrible, horrible old man,” Merry exclaimed.

  He’d grinned down at her. “How can you say that?” he chided. “I thought it was very nice of him to wish us so well.”

  Tammy’s light, easy voice broke into her mood. “What are you blushing about, Merry?” she teased. “Did he take you up to Mulholland Drive?”

  Merry said coldly, “Don’t be ridiculous!”

  They had driven first along the ocean, and then had climbed the hills. The stars had seemed very close and very bright, and in the smogless air they had been able to see as far away as San Fernando.

  Tammy asked slyly, “Did he kiss you, Merry?”

  Merry gave her a cold glance and turned away, ignoring the question.

  Jeff had kissed her. Outside the door of the apartment he’d pulled her suddenly to him, and his lips had closed down gently and firmly on hers, turning her blood to fire and ice.

  She had closed her eyes for a minute against the impact of his kiss, and a name had escaped her lips. “Tom.”

  Jeff had let her go abruptly. “I’m not Tom. Evidently you’re out with the wrong guy.”

  She had opened her eyes and looked up at him embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she’d said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Well,” he said wryly, “at least I’ve never been called by another guy’s name while kissing a girl. It’s a new sensation.”

  Even now, Merry could feel the prickles of embarrassment. She’d said unhappily, “I don’t know why I did that.”

  He said gently, “Because you were thinking of him.” He’d shaken her lightly. “Stop looking like that. It’s no crime to carry the torch for one man while you’re out with another.”

  Merry had denied the accusation vehemently. “I’m not carrying the torch for anyone!”

  “Fine,” he’d said. “So I’ll count myself still in the running. And maybe next time when I kiss you, you’ll remember that it’s me, and not some other guy.”

  Tammy said philosophically, “Well, since no one seems inclined to talk to me, I’ll just sit here and brood like you two.”

  Agnes gave her a vague look. Her mind was miles away. Merry didn’t turn from her intense blind concentration on objects outside the bus window.

  She was still distressed over the night before. She’d thought herself finished with Tom. But was she?

  “Of course I am,” she told herself. The kiss had brought it back—the first time a kiss had stirred her like that since Tom.

  She told herself that if she was wise she’d turn thumbs down on any further invitations from Jeff Morrow. And then she thought wryly that perhaps, after last night, there would be no occasion to refuse Jeff, because he might never ask her again.

  * * * *

  The bus stopped and the three girls piled out, stumbling down the steps and walking rapidly up the street towards the hospital.

  “My father always used to say mornings were the best time of the day,” Tammy said, her voice rushing ahead as fast as her feet. “He used to get up every morning at six o’clock. Even when he wasn’t working, he’d still get up at six o’clock. Can you imagine?”

  She shook her head and grinned. “I’m an alien one,” she said. “I think I confuse both of my parents, poor dears. They don’t understand how they could have conceived a person so entirely different from them.”

  She caught her breath. “Hey, I talk too much. Why doesn’t someone tell me that? I never stop talking, do I?”

  Agnes laughed. “Well, sometimes,” she said.

  “Well,” Tammy said, “you two need me around. You’re much too silent. Listening to you two, you’d think silence really was golden.”

  “Agreed that we need you around, Tammy,” Merry said, with a quick, warm smile. “And I’m not just saying that for effect. I really mean it.”

  She dashed ahead of the other two girls and up the broad stone steps. Tossing off a compliment always embarrassed her. She never seemed able to say it lightly and easily; she was always too fervent.

  She put her things in her locker and took the service elevator to the fifth floor. A little candy striper said as she flew past, “It’s bedlam up here this morning. Mr. Webb is getting ready to leave the hospital. He’s ordering everyone around as if this were a hotel and we were his servants.” She sounded upset and angry at the implication.

  Merry shook her head and shrugged. Evidently Pierson Webb had decided to throw his importance around on the day he was to leave the hospital. She felt sorry for him.

  She picked up his chart at the nursing station and proceeded down the corridor to his room.

  He scowled at her from the bed. “So,” he said, “I had just about decided you weren’t coming in this morning. Don’t nurses have to report at certain hours when they’re working in a hospital?”

  Merry kept her voice low and even, “They do, Mr. Webb. And I’m right on time.” She glanced down at her watch. “In fact, I’m three minutes early.”

  He tightened his lips. “Did you know they were sending me home in an ambulance?”

  Merry laughed at him. “It’s a nice, easy way to ride,” she told him.

  “I want you to come with me as my private nurse,” he said. “I’m going to need a nurse. I’ll pay you more than this lousy hospital pays you.”

  Merry stared at him in surprise. “I’m not a private nurse,” she said. “I’m a hospital nurse. If you think you need a private nurse, there are agencies…”

  “To hell with agencies,” he said. “I told you that I wanted you. Name your price.”

  Merry shook her head, “I’m sorry, Mr. Webb, but my work is here at the hospital.”

  He said petulantly, “You aren’t at all sorry.” His eyes narrowed. “How about that friend of yours,” he said, “the one who wanted a screen test. Maybe I’d think about that
if you were to come with me as my nurse.”

  Merry laughed. “Now, Mr. Webb, that’s bribery, isn’t it?” She shook the thermometer down and held it out towards him. “Open your mouth,” she said.

  He scowled at her. “I’m no longer a patient here. I’m leaving this morning. You can’t give me any more orders.”

  Merry said calmly, “You’re still a patient until you’re released. Now open your mouth, please. Unless you want to be here all morning.”

  He continued to scowl, but he opened his mouth and allowed her to insert the thermometer.

  “Well, well,” a harsh voice said dryly from the doorway, “don’t tell me our Little Miss Nightingale is giving you a hard time, Pierson. And on the morning you’re leaving, too.”

  Merry looked around into Mai Hinge’s cold eyes. She flashed her a brief smile. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but you’ll have to wait out in the hall while Mr. Webb is made ready to leave.”

  Mai grinned at her and said derisively, “Do tell. And you’re going to stay?” She clucked her teeth in mock horror. “Nurses are really very privileged, aren’t they?”

  Merry ignored her, turning back to look at her patient. She saw Pierson had taken the thermometer out of his mouth and was glaring at Mai Hinge.

  “My God!” he said. “Don’t I have enough to put up with? Do you have to come here and stand around like a ghoul?” His lips drew downward and he said fiercely, “You’d have liked it if I’d died, wouldn’t you? It would have been a nice bit for that lousy column of yours. You always were a bitch, Mai.” He drew in his breath. “Well, I fooled you. I’m going to keep right on fooling you. I’ll still be alive when you’re dead, so don’t go counting me out yet.”

  Mai didn’t appear to be at all concerned by his venom. She shrugged and laughed, “Now sweetie, you’re getting yourself all worked up over nothing. I’ve really been concerned about you. Of them all, I’ve been the only one really concerned.” Her dark eyes flashed to Merry’s face. “Ask Miss Sweetness and Light here if that isn’t true.”

  Merry was not going to get herself involved. She took the thermometer from Pierson’s hand and put it back in his mouth, saying firmly, “And don’t take it out again, Mr. Webb, because I’ll just have to put it back in again, and it will take that much longer.”