Cat's Patient Heart

by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

  He tried to nod. “Yeah, too long. I’d heard you were a nurse but I never knew where.”

  If he’d heard, he’d asked about her sometime, somewhere. As Catherine tried to assimilate the information, she asked instead, “How do you feel?”

  He whispered, “It hurts.”

  In a rush of tenderness, she wished she could wrap her arms around him and kiss his pain away. Ten years ago, in a situation like this, she would have but she couldn’t now.

  “I’m sure it does and I’m sorry. I need to tell someone you’re awake.”

  Catherine pushed the call button and when Annette answered, voice crackling over the speaker, she said,

  “Connor Donovan is awake, Annette and so far, he’s lucid.”

  “Good. I’ll be right down.”

  Before she could think of something to say, her patient looked up at her with those brown eyes she remembered well and said, “Hey, it hurts like hell. Can’t you give me a shot or pill or something for the pain?”

  “I can as soon as I get a doctor’s order,” Catherine said, picking her words with care, “I know you hurt but what hurts the most?”

  “Jesus, what doesn’t?” he said with a groan, “My head’s splitting, my ribs hurt, my side feels like it’s raw as a rare T-bone steak and my leg’s about to kill me.”

  As he spoke, she watched the monitor readings as his blood pressure climbed in a steady arc. “Connor, I’ll give you something as soon as I can, I promise. Try to calm down, though, okay?”

  Connor almost managed the nod this time. “Yeah, I’ll try. Tell the son of a bitch to hurry.”

  Before she could respond, Annette strode into the room and turned on the overhead light. The shift from dimness to brilliance made Catherine blink and she saw Connor wince. He shut his eyes to block out the light but he said, “Christ, lady, what are you trying to do – blind me or what?”

  “I need to see or I can’t examine you,” Annette snapped. From the way her lips twisted and her forehead furrowed, Catherine knew he made her boss angry. “I called the doctor on call and he said you’re scheduled for a scan first thing in the morning so I don’t know. I can give you something but I don’t want to zonk you out completely.”

  “He’s in a lot of pain,” Catherine said, “Can he have a morphine shot or something?”

  Annette nodded. “If I give him one now, it should wear off before he goes down for another scan. I’ve got phone orders to go ahead with it. I brought one with me.”

  “Shoot me up, then,” Connor said in a whisper louder and more strident than earlier.

  Catherine watched the other nurse administer the pain med and then step back. After a moment, she turned off the overhead light and beckoned to Catherine.

  “Yes?”

  “Everything’s quiet for now out on the floor. Can you stay here for a few minutes to make sure there’s no ill effect from the shot?”

  “Sure.” Catherine tried to sound casual. She wanted to do that more than anything except maybe run in the other direction with speed. “I can do it.”

  As soon as Annette exited, she leaned over him. “Connor, do you need anything else?”

  “I’d love a drink,” he said and somehow she didn’t think he meant water. Catherine poured a glass from the water carafe on the nightstand anyway, added a straw and offered it to him. He sipped several swallows then waved it away.

  “Thanks, Cat,” he said.

  Remembering what Annette said about his ICE (in case of emergency) contact, Catherine asked, “The ER team couldn’t find any contact information for you. Is there someone you would like me to call for you?”

  Connor scowled. “There isn’t anyone to call. I’ll make any calls that need to be made when I’m feeling better.”

  Catherine remembered his family, an often absent mother, a father who’d split when Connor was just two, and a sister who left as soon as she could. They’d lived around the corner in the smallest house in the neighborhood. She opened her mouth to ask about his family and then changed her mind. Maybe she should just leave it alone for now.

  “Okay,” she said. “Has the shot started to knock down the pain yet?”

  Total time, it would take thirty minutes, she knew, but it could take effect sooner.

  “I don’t know, maybe a little bit,” Connor said in a tone as mild as a kindergartner. “I feel sleepy.”

  Catherine chuckled a little. “That’s good. I’ll be here until you’re asleep, maybe a little longer.”

  He lifted his eyes to her, two dark pools brimming with pain and emotion. “Could you hold my hand for awhile?”

  Her heart, never more than half-healed, shattered again, the broken pieces aching with new anguish. His vulnerable expression nailed her. Forget any rules about getting personal with patients. He wanted and she’d deliver even if it made her a fool. “Sure, I can do that.”

  Catherine pulled up the room’s sole chair, lowered the side bed rail and reached for his hand. He grasped hers with more strength than she expected and she stroked his rough, work worn skin to comfort. Something familiar sparked into life at the connection and she felt it, tried to ignore it and failed.

  “Talk to me,” he said, more order than request.

  “What do you want me to talk about?”

  “You,” he told her, “Tell me what you’ve been doing since I last saw you.”

  Her breath caught and she saw, not the antiseptic hospital room but that room above the garage and Connor’s face as he destroyed her world. What am I supposed to say? Tell him after he walked out on me I cried for days, I picked myself up, broken, and carried on with a huge hole in my heart? Or do I play it cool and tell him my life’s been a rose garden?

  “I graduated two years after you did,” Catherine began, uncertain and slow, “Then I went off to college. Grandpa told me I’d make a good nurse because I took care of him after he had a stroke the summer before my senior year of high school so I studied nursing. I got my associates degree and then I found a job here. I’ve been a nurse six years now.”

  Her spiel sounded like something she’d say at a class reunion, bland and basic.

  Connor watched her. “What else?”

  If you wanted to know so much, why didn’t you find me sooner? His apparent interest discombobulated her so she got a little flip. “I work twelve hours a day, three on, two off unless I fill in for someone, which I do all the time because they have husbands and kids. I don’t. If I had time, I’d love to go hiking or walking or travel. I’d like to go out in a boat on a lake somewhere, far away from everything. ”

  “I’d take you,” he murmured, so faint she almost didn’t hear him but the simple words impacted her emotions with the harsh reality of being hit by a freight train.

  “I’d like that,” Catherine answered after a pause and meant it although she wasn’t sure he did. It might be the pain meds talking. He was drowsy so she kept talking so he’d fall asleep. “I still love music, all kinds of it, everything from classic rock and old twangy country music to Red Hot Chili Peppers. I live in a little house on the north side of town. I grow a lot of perennial flowers at home and sometimes a few tomatoes. I hate snow and I adore sunshine.”

  “I hate snow too, especially now,” Connor whispered, voice thick with sleep. The morphine must be working; he’d be out soon. “I thought I’d be dead when I skidded.”

  His fingers tightened around hers so she squeezed back. “I’m glad you’re not.”

  “Me, too,” he said, voice barely a breath.

  “Go to sleep, Connor.”

  “Stay.” She remembered that pleading tone too well and she wanted to respond to it but she balanced her job with the past.

  “I’ll be here a few more minutes and then I have to check on other patients. I’ll be back to check on you, though, as much as I can.” Liar, she thought, I’d stay here until he wakes if I could.

  Connor nodded as he let his eyes fall shut. He’d be totally out in a few minutes so she di
dn’t move, still held his hand. Catherine waited until his breathing evened out slow and easy. She watched the monitor and decided he slept deeply now.

  “Connor, you’re the last person I ever expected to turn up,” she said, softly, “but I’m glad you did. I wouldn’t tell you when you’re awake but I don’t think I ever quit loving you.”

  For a second, she regretted saying that. He might recall what she told him but then she shook her head. The morphine would prevent that, she thought as she unwound her hand from his. She released him and stood there for just a moment or two more. On impulse, she bent down to press her lips against the uninjured side of his forehead. It wasn’t erotic, just the kind of kiss you might give a child but it made her feel like she’d crossed a line.

  “Sweet dreams,” she said, as she hustled out of the room.

  Catherine reported to the desk and kept a hectic pace for the rest of her shift. At six a.m. when she should be going home, she stopped in Connor’s room. He slept but his vitals were strong and when she put her fingers on his right wrist, his pulse beat steady and slow, just right.

  “You’re doing really well,” she said, even though he wouldn’t hear her but his eyelids fluttered and he opened his eyes to look up at her. For a moment, confusion clouded them and then he blinked twice.

  “You’re still here?” It wasn’t a complaint.

  “I’m back,” Catherine said. “I sat here until you went to sleep and checked on you through my shift. It’s morning now and before long, the doctor should be up.”

  “Will you be here?” His dark brown eyes stared into hers with intensity.

  She shook her head. “My shift just ended.”

  His face fell. “Oh.”

  “I’ll be back tonight.”

  His sigh ruffled his shoulder length hair, now in disarray across the pillows. “Okay.”

  Catherine read his disappointment and she said, “I can find out what time your CAT scans scheduled and return so I’ll be here when you’re back from it – if you’d like me to.”

  Connor brightened so much she almost could swear he didn’t look as pale. “I’d like that since you’re the only person I know here.”

  But maybe you don’t know me now and I wonder if I still know you, Catherine thought but didn’t share it.

  “Then I’ll be back in a little while,” she promised “and I’ll be here when they bring you up from your scan.”

  Connor met her eyes and nodded, “Thanks, Catherine.”

  At the nurses’ station she determined his scan time, even spoke with the doctor who would perform the procedure. Dr. Craig didn’t seem to think her inquiry strange and she thought, with a wry grin, he must assume her interest was professional, not personal.

  Outside she stepped into a world of white, snow above her ankles and she wondered if she could make it home. Street crews scraped Jefferson Street outside the hospital to the pavement but once she left it, some of the other streets remained snow packed and slick. At home, she fed her dog Henry, changed from her scrubs into comfortable old jeans, a favorite sweatshirt and boots. Catherine watered her house plants and took time to make a cup of tea. Each little task kept her from thinking, from wondering what she might be getting into with Connor.

  I’m crazy, she thought as she headed back to the hospital, he could be married; he might have a girlfriend or more than one. But he wants me and he seems to need me at least for now so I’ll be there.

  And besides, she reminded herself he said he didn’t have anyone.

  For right now, this moment in time, he did even if it was just her.

  Chapter Two

  Day staff paid little mind to her as Catherine headed behind the desk at the station to check whether or not Connor remained downstairs. She shamelessly accessed all his information. He lived in Kansas City, Kansas somewhere in the older part of town. His address said Everett Avenue and his club, bar, whatever it was, ‘For My Sins’ was on 7th Street. She made mental notes to remember so she could look it up online later. Even though she wasn’t in scrubs, none of the nurses gave her a second glance because they knew her. One of the nursing assistants, however, greeted her,

  “Hey, are you here to fill in on days?”

  “No, not today,” Catherine said, “I’m just here for a friend.”

  Since Connor had been more to her once, it seemed like a white lie but the word escaped her mouth before she could stop it and she regretted it. Someone would be sure to ask questions she’d rather not answer. She picked up her purse and walked down to Room 4229, next to the waiting room.

  Catherine settled into the old rump sprung chair and took out her Kindle. Although she tried, she couldn’t keep her mind on the novel she attempted to read so she gave it up. Catherine pulled her I-pod from her purse but she couldn’t focus on the music either. Restless, she paced the room and parked at the window staring out at Clark Funeral Home’s parking lot. Little traffic moved on the snowy morning and she watched a few birds swoop down to pick at the crust of snow for something edible over by the post office. Time crawled as she waited and it was odd to be on this side of a medical procedure. It seemed even stranger to be waiting for Connor. Fatigue blanketed her. On a normal day, she’d be in bed, asleep by now.

  Around ten a.m. after she stepped down the hall and across from the elevators for a cold soda, two orderlies wheeled Connor into the room and transferred him back into bed. One of the nurses on duty, an acquaintance, Frances, arrived to make sure all the IV lines remained in place and to do vitals.

  “How’s he doing?” Catherine asked.

  Frances answered without looking. “He’s fine, physically, but he objected to the scan so they put him under. I think he may be claustrophobic or something because they said he really kicked up and cussed them all out. He’s lucky they didn’t put him in restraints. Pain meds are in the IV. And no more blood transfusions because he’s good, now.”

  “Did the scan show anything different?” His reaction didn’t surprise her in the least. Connor hated small, tight places and being confined.

  Frances shook her head, preoccupied with patient care. “The brain swelling’s down so the concussion’s healing fine. His ribs are cracked, not broken and the leg isn’t either. He’ll wake up soon. Expect him to be groggy for awhile but he should be reasonably coherent. He can have water if he’s thirsty and they’ll bring a tray at meal time, liquid or light diet to start.”

  She knew all that; she usually was the one who recited to the patient’s near and dear but now she just said, “Thanks.”

  Frances nodded. “Sure.”

  Then she recognized Catherine and goggled at her. “Oh, I didn’t know it was you. I wasn’t paying attention so I didn’t recognize you. I didn’t realize you knew the patient.”

  “We grew up together in my hometown. He’s an old friend.”

  “Oh?” Frances’ tone inquired but she didn’t respond. “Well, he’s in good condition and I’ll leave him with you.”

  Word night shift nurse Catherine Lessard camped by the bedside of a patient who looked a lot like Hugh Jackman would spread through the small hospital with speed. Small town gossip always moved with swift certainty, true or not, and this would be no different. A faint twinge because she just put the first black mark on her impeccable record registered but this old bond with Connor trumped it.

  In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought, an old adage her grandmother often quoted and since her presence here would wag tongues through the facility and out into the streets anyway, she lowered the bed rail so she could sit on the edge of the bed facing Connor. She smoothed back a few stray strands of hair and touched his hand. When she did, his fingers curled around her hand and he stirred.

  “Hey, honey,” she said in a soft, gentle voice, the old endearment slipping out unnoticed. “Your scan’s over.”

  His chin dipped in such a slight nod she almost missed the motion.

  “I hurt,” he rasped, hoarse.

  “You’re get
ting pain meds in your IV drip,” Catherine said, “They should kick in before long. I know you probably feel pretty rough right now but in a few hours, you’ll start feeling better.”

  “I hope so,” Connor whispered.

  “I promise, you will. By the time I come back for my shift, you should be feeling more human.”

  His hand tightened around hers. “Don’t leave. Stay.”

  “I can stay a few more minutes but I’ve got to get some sleep because I work tonight,” Catherine said, with compassion. “I can’t take care of you and the other patients if I don’t get rested.”

  His dark eyes, deeper than a glass of bourbon, stared up into hers until she swore he touched her soul with his gaze. “Cat, please stay.”

  His plea touched her heart but she couldn’t stay, even if she wanted to – which she did. “Why?”

  “You love me and I still love you,” Connor said in an awful croak. “No one else’s been nice to me for years, not like you. No one else loves me and never did.”

  Catherine realized he remained under the influence of the meds, the heavy duty painkiller and even the anesthesia but she caught the truth hidden deep within. He might still be a tough guy – and looked the part – but now Connor seemed vulnerable in a way she’d never seen him. In everyday life, she figured he hid this side of himself so deep no one noticed.

  Moved to tenderness, she cupped her free hand to his cheek even though she didn’t dare tell him she still loved him too. “Everyone will be nice here, I promise. I’ll tell them they’ll answer to me if they’re not. I’ll stay until you’re settled but I really do have to go home.”

  He nodded, “Okay, then. Be that way.”

  Connor sounded so much like a petulant child she laughed. “Do you want some water?”

  “Sure.”

  She assisted him with a drink, settled him into a more comfortable position in bed and smoothed his hair back from his face. By then his eyes hung heavy and her own fatigue made her drowsy. Before he slipped into sleep, she bent down so he’d be sure to hear her,