by Jaime Maddox
It was good to see her eyes looking bright instead of worried, and the light highlights in her long hair also made her look lively. She applied color to her full lips and made sure no hamburger was stuck between the perfect rows of sparkling teeth. Satisfied that she passed inspection, she pulled on the purple jacket that matched her skirt and headed to the lobby. Her new doctor was expected any minute.
“Done for the night?” Jake, the custodian, asked as Abby stepped into the hallway from the administrative suite.
“Actually, no, but if you need to get in there, feel free. Just let me grab my bag and you can have the place to yourself.”
“Okay, thanks. I hear Dr. Rave is doing real good,” he said, pausing the buffing machine that pulled him down the hallway.
Abby nodded. It might have been common knowledge, but she still felt some obligation to protect Dick’s privacy.
“I’m sure glad about that. I’ve been praying for him. You have a good night, Miss Rosen,” he said, then went back to work. She watched his bent form as she awaited the elevator, wondering if the prayer had helped Dick. It didn’t hurt, anyway. Abby once again realized how happy she was to live and work in Factoryville, PA. Her hometown was famous as the birthplace of baseball legend Christy Mathewson, but Abby was less impressed by him than by the rest of the citizens of this humble town. They were all hall-of-famers.
Her elevator car stopped on the second floor, and she realized she wasn’t the only one working late. “Dick looks great,” she said to Dave Simpson, the surgeon.
“Yeah, I’m really happy with his progress.”
“Just another testament to good, small-town medicine,” she said, knowing how doctors loved a nice ego stroke. Abby was quite experienced in such matters.
He gave her an “aw, shucks” look. “I hear we have a replacement?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact I’m meeting with him now. His credentials are impressive, so I think the ER will be in good hands. I booked the agency for six months.”
“Good move.”
“Thanks for the advice,” she said, and bid him good night before they exited the elevator.
The lobby was relatively deserted and Abby had no difficulty identifying her target. He was petite, if a man could be described that way. Slight. Certainly shorter than her, anyway, and thinner, too. His dark hair was cut very short but was stylishly arranged. Dark-colored, thick-rimmed designer frames sat atop his slight nose. He stood, with perfect posture, hands clasped behind his back, staring out the window into the darkness. His charcoal suit was tailored and draped elegantly all the way to the brilliantly polished wingtips on his feet.
He would have been noticeable in any venue, but in the lobby of a small community hospital in the mountains of Northeastern Pennsylvania, he really stood out.
Abby, dressed in her own designer suit and fresh from her bathroom touch-up, felt an unfamiliar twinge of self-consciousness and smoothed nonexistent wrinkles from her jacket as she approached him.
Not surprisingly, his hand was cool when she shook it. “I’m Abby Rosen,” she said. “The CEO. Welcome to Factoryville.”
*
“Edward Hawk. It’s good to be here.”
Abby Rosen would never know just how good it was. Immediately after his release from his prior position, Edward had contacted his personal assistant. “I need a job. Not in Florida or New Jersey.” Edward had worn out his welcome in New Jersey, and his prior peccadilloes in Florida could come back to haunt him if he ran into someone he knew there. In his role as a doctor, anyway. He had no concerns about visiting the Sunshine State, and he immediately took off for his parents’ house on the Gulf of Mexico, prepared to regroup there. They were away on an extended cruise, so he had the freedom and privacy to do as he pleased. He’d been too miserable to have much fun, worried about the mistake that had led to his termination in Jersey and restless about his future. Then, just as his razor stubble was beginning to resemble a beard, his phone rang. Some hick doctor in the middle of nowhere had gotten sick, and an immediate replacement was needed. The locum tenens agency was willing to hire him on the spot, if he could begin the next day. It was only a three-week assignment, but if it worked out, he wouldn’t have to worry about a job for a while. The company had already offered him a one-year contract. A job meant many things. Money. He really didn’t need it, thanks to his family money, but he liked it anyway. It gave him the ability to eat and dress and travel well, habits that would have been difficult to change. Impossible, actually. He was quite set in his ways.
The job also gave him company. He didn’t really like to be with people, had never lived with anyone since he’d left his parents’ home for college. Because of his discomfort with people in his personal space, and his unusual hobby, he never had guests at his house. He did get lonely, though. In the ER, he could be aloof enough to be left alone by the staff, but their mere presence pleased him. The background chatter was a familiar comfort, and the bells and whistles were soothing.
Mostly, though, a job meant exposure to patients, the sick and injured souls whose lives were placed in his hands. It was a dream, an opportunity like no other. Edward had been nervous before the phone call about the job in Factoryville. Like a heroin addict, all he’d been able to think about was his next fix. When would he be able to kill again? Hourly, his agitation grew so intense that he was beginning to plot the abduction of an undesirable tourist to fulfill his cravings. That was risky, though. Even undesirable tourists had friends and family members to report them missing, and if questions were asked, the answers might point back to Edward. Killing in the hospital was much safer. How could he get caught when no one even suspected a crime had been committed?
For a man with his agenda, Factoryville, Pennsylvania was a dream come true. Doctors came here because they couldn’t cut it in the big cities, he was sure. They’d be too stupid to know protocols, too out of touch with modern medicine to understand his clever methods. Nurses, too. Not only were they inbred at the local schools, but they were trained to respect the doctors. They’d never question him. He smiled, knowing he’d be able to do whatever he wanted, and no one would even notice. He followed Abby Rosen to the administrative suite for his hospital orientation. It was indeed good to be here.
Chapter Eight
Extubation
A soft knock roused Ward from her sleep, and she opened her eyes to a dark world interrupted only by the sliver of light permitted by the crack in the bedroom door. Sitting up, she wiped the sleep from her eyes and cleared her throat. “Come in,” she said softly.
The swath of light grew wider as the door opened and Rosa Perez popped her head into the room. “I wanted to say good-bye,” she said, then “I thought you’d be awake.”
Indeed, Ward hadn’t been sleeping well and had been up to enjoy coffee with her old medical-school friend every morning before Rosa left for work. Rosa practiced anesthesiology and was busy doing pre-op evals at the hospital while most people were still snug in their beds.
Sliding her legs to the floor, Ward crossed the wooden planks of the guest bedroom in a few strides and pulled the door fully open. “I must be feeling better if I’m sleeping past five,” she said dryly.
“Beach therapy is quite effective,” Rosa said as they walked toward the kitchen. The house was modern and huge, with an open plan suited for entertaining, and for the past two months, Rosa and her partner, Cindy, had had their hands full with Ward. She’d arrived a few days after Jess threw her out, needing a place to crash that didn’t remind her of Jess. Ward had spent a miserable two days at their house in Philly before calling on her friends in Rehoboth Beach, and they’d tended her wounds and guided her through the chaos her life had become. Ward was by no means over Jess, but she was functional once again, and it was time for her to go.
She had a job!
“Can I make you one last coffee before I set out?” Ward asked.
“Of course. I’ll miss you waiting on me. Can you possibly train Cindy
to be a good wife like you before you leave us?”
Ward shook her head and frowned. Rosa and her partner Cindy were so similar it was scary. They both had long, dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin. They were both intelligent and tended to take things a bit too seriously. They shared a love of the arts and food and fashion, and were both physicians. Both were pathetically lacking in home-repair and cooking skills. Any remorse Ward might have had about crashing at their house was alleviated by the payment she’d made in home improvements and food preparation.
“I’m sorry, my friend. She’s a lost cause.” Then she smiled. “But I promise to come back in the summer, and I’ll cook for you.”
Sipping the hot coffee, Rosa looked up over the cup and met Ward’s eyes. They held for a moment, and then Ward closed the gap between them and wrapped herself around Rosa. “I don’t know how to thank you,” she said.
Rosa whispered into Ward’s shoulder. “Just be okay. That’s all I want.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I wish you weren’t heading back into the devil’s den. Why couldn’t you have taken a job in Alaska or South America? Someplace safe and far, far away from Jessica.”
“I’m not that close to her.”
“I hear the Taliban needs doctors. Maybe you can get a job sewing suicide bombers back together. That would be better than being near your ex.”
Ward broke the hug and pulled back, laughing. “Stop! I don’t want to be far away. Whether it’s over, or we start over, I have to get some closure with Jess. And until she’s sure what she wants, I can’t move on.”
Rosa shook her head, angrily. “It’s ridiculous that Jess should expect you to wait around while she decides what she wants to do with your life.”
“I know. It’s hard to understand.” Ward had cried on Rosa’s shoulder a dozen times since she’d been in Rehoboth, when she’d first arrived on her doorstep and, again, after every time Jess refused to talk and after every awful thing she said when they did. Jess was having a mid-life crisis, and while it wasn’t fair that she was taking it out on Ward, it also wasn’t fair of Ward to abandon her. Jess was emotionally unwell, and until she told Ward it was over between them, Ward couldn’t give up on her. She loved her, and she still believed Jess would come through this and they would be together again.
Rosa swallowed a piece of blueberry muffin and washed it down with coffee before she spoke again. “Since she’s not talking to you—”
“She is talking to me! Just not as much as I’d like—”
“Since she’s not talking to you as much as you’d like, will you at least consider putting in your application for a Delaware license? Then, if it doesn’t work out with her, you can come back here.”
Ward studied Rosa’s face and saw concern there. It was warranted. She’d been in bad shape when she arrived on Rosa’s doorstep. Jess had asked her to leave Garden, had “suspended” her from her duties in the ER, and had put their relationship on hold while she evaluated what she wanted to do with her life. In addition, Ward was humiliated by the way she’d behaved at the bar. George had been a friend; to think she’d assaulted him mortified her. Even if she despised Emory Paldrane because of his feelings for Jess, he still didn’t deserve to have his nose broken.
She had no excuse for her behavior, but the total lack of precedent really concerned her. She’d never acted violently in her life. Was something seriously wrong with her? Was she capable of hurting someone else, maybe someone she loved, like Jess?
And why couldn’t she remember anything that had happened? Her mind seemed to have protectively blocked out the horrifying events, but instead of soothing her, the amnesia only worried her more. She had no recall after leaving the hospital that night—not the drive to the bar, nor the drinks she’d consumed, nor the assaults she’d perpetrated. She’d lost more than sixteen hours of her life, from the time she left the hospital a little after eight that night, until she awakened in her bed around noon the next day. That’s when Jess had filled in the blanks and kicked her out.
Ward had been devastated, of course, and felt so fortunate to have the kind of friends who loved her unconditionally and helped her weather the storm. Rosa was one of them, and had been since they’d met early in their medical careers. If a simple gesture from Ward would ease Rosa’s concerns, why not do it? All it would cost was a few bucks and a few hours of her time to complete the paperwork. And Ward suspected she’d have plenty of time in the coming months.
She smiled at her friend. “If it makes you happy, I’ll apply for a Delaware license. Then I can work with you and live with you and cook for you…”
Rosa stood and hugged her again, smiling. “Thank you for admitting I’m right.”
They walked to the door, arm in arm, and hugged again before Rosa climbed in and started the car’s engine, and didn’t move until the taillights faded into the darkness. She closed the garage door and glanced at the wall clock as she walked back to her bedroom. It was just after five.
She’d completed the majority of her packing the night before, and it didn’t take her long to brush her teeth and her hair, and wash her face. Her eyes seemed tired, but all in all, she looked a hell of a lot better than she had when she’d arrived in Delaware. Grief and sadness still dominated her emotions, but she had moments of happiness, like the one she’d just shared with Rosa, and she was laughing once in a while, too. She was ready to jump back into life.
After slipping into her jeans and a sweater, Ward pulled on her sneakers and closed the smallest of the three suitcases she’d brought with her. The other two were already in the car, and she quietly carried their mate to the front door and softly closed it behind her. A note contained her final good-bye to Cindy, and she was on Route One heading north to Philly just a few minutes later. She planned to shower when she reached the city and spend a few hours laundering and putting away the majority of her winter clothes. Although she knew March in the mountains could be cold, by April she’d need warm-weather gear. It seemed pointless to pack many sweaters.
Traffic was manageable until she reached Chester, but even then it still moved, and she pulled her car into her garage in Wayne only two hours later, next to the little red sports car that belonged to her tenant. Michelle Marker was a fourth-year medical student, worked constantly, and had agreed to live at Ward and Jess’s place while they were away. It was a win-win situation for all parties, and Ward was happy to see Michelle’s car.
“Welcome home,” Michelle said at the kitchen door. Wearing scrubs, her short hair slicked with gel, Ward couldn’t tell if she’d just finished work or was about to start, so she asked.
“Sadly, I’m just leaving. I wish we had more time to catch up,” she said, seeming to choose her words carefully. Ward hadn’t shared the details about Jess with Michelle, and she knew her tenant was curious about Ward’s sudden move to Delaware. But until Ward knew what was happening with Jess, she wasn’t sharing much with anyone. Only a few, very good friends knew the details of that night in Garden.
“Next time,” Ward said, and they hugged as Michelle raced out the door.
When the garage door closed and the house was quiet, Ward took a moment to look around. She hadn’t done that two months earlier when she’d been too blinded by tears, and even now it was hard. Jess was everywhere. Above their table hung a painting they’d purchased in Venezuela. On shelves next to the window lay trinkets from trips they’d taken and a few photos, all of the two of them together. It would be the same throughout the rest of the house, for they’d bought it together and painstakingly decorated and furnished it beautifully.
What would she do with this place if Jess stayed in Garden? She’d decided she’d wait six months, staying close by so she and Jess could see each other, and talk, and try to work this out. She owed that to Jess, and to herself. But for the sake of her sanity, she needed to have some sort of deadline for when she’d walk away, whether she was ready or not. If she didn’t, she’d be lost, floating, waiting.
On the first of September, either alone or with Jess, she’d be coming back to Philly and picking up the pieces of her life.
Ward spent a few hours as she’d planned—putting away clothing, sorting mail, inspecting the house. When she’d worked up a sweat, she washed it away with a shower. At eleven thirty she pulled out of the garage again and weaved her way along the back roads until she found herself on Henry Avenue in Philadelphia, at Dalessandro’s, her favorite cheesesteak shop. A woman of sixty, with auburn hair and dazzling green eyes, was already seated at the counter. Ward stooped and kissed her cheek.
Dr. Jeannie Bennett stood and wrapped her arms around Ward in a gentle hug. They were just about the same height, a few inches taller than average, and about the same build, but somehow Jeannie’s presence seemed larger. “Sit. I ordered for you,” she commanded.
“How’d you know what I want?” Ward asked as she folded her coat and sat on it.
“You don’t have many options, dear. So tell me how you are.” Jeannie swiveled on her seat and faced Ward.
Ward spent a few minutes trying to convince her old mentor that she was doing well, but the skeptical look on Jeannie’s face told Ward she wasn’t a great actress.
“Well, the good news is, this company you’ll be working for is quite reputable. I checked with a few colleagues, and they all thought the doctors they hire are skilled and competent. So, at least you won’t destroy your reputation while you’re off on your adventure.”
