Prescription For Love

by Boeshaar, Andrea

  “I had a blast that summer I worked with your folks,” he said. “I’d call it a life-changing experience for me.”

  Life-changing is right. Ravyn decided to snip the personal thread. She glanced at her patient and strode to his bedside. Out of habit, she checked his wristband to be sure the name correlated with the one stamped on the paperwork in the chart. “And what’s going on with you, Mr. Darien? You’re not feeling so good, huh?”

  He managed a groggy smile, having just returned from the cardiac cath lab.

  Ravyn sensed three sets of gazes on her and felt oddly conspicuous. She concentrated on taking Mr. Darien’s vital signs, a routine done at the beginning of every shift, and noted they appeared to be normal.

  “So how much longer until I get outta here?” her patient groused.

  Ravyn pulled her stethoscope from her ears. “As soon as a bed is available, you’re being admitted for observation.” She peered at Mrs. Darien. “Didn’t anyone tell you that?”

  “Yes, but Chet must have forgotten.” Mrs. Darien patted her husband’s arm.

  “I don’t think it registered with Uncle Chet because of the cath and the meds,” Mark added.

  “Very understandable.” Ravyn avoided looking at Mark.

  “Do you think it’ll be much longer before a room opens up?” his aunt asked.

  “No. I’m guessing it’ll happen in the next hour.” Ravyn glanced at her wristwatch. “Dr. Loomis, the cardiologist, is just finishing the orders. Then once the admitting department assigns Mr. Darien a bed, a transporter will come and take him up to the floor.”

  Her patient drifted off to sleep before Ravyn finished her explanation. But at least he seemed stable now.

  “It’s a blessing to see you again, Ravyn. I feel better know-ing you’re Chet’s nurse,” Mrs. Darien said.

  “Thank you.” Ravyn pushed out a smile. “Well, it’s back to work for me. Before I go, can I get anything for you, Mrs. Darien? Would you like a cup of coffee? We have regular and decaf. How about a glass of ice water?”

  “Oh, no, dear, I’m fine.”

  “And I know where every coffeepot in this hospital is.” Mark chuckled.

  “I’m sure you do—I mean, working crazy shifts at a hospital.” Ravyn shoved her hands into her smock’s pockets and reminded herself she couldn’t afford to appear rude. She was new to the hospital, while Mark had been a resident here for years. “Um, Dr. Loomis should be coming in any minute now.”

  “Thank you, dear.”

  “Yeah, thanks, Ravyn.”

  She gave both Mrs. Darien and Mark a polite nod. Then, without another word, she exited the exam room. When she reached the unit clerk’s desk she let out a long sigh of relief.

  ❧

  The pinks of dawn streaked across the horizon as Mark stared out Uncle Chet’s hospital room window. The medical center’s landscape below looked almost serene at this time of morning, but in a few more hours it would be bustling with patients, visitors, physicians, medical students, and other staff.

  He yawned and stretched. After his uncle had been moved to the cardiac wing late last night, Mark had driven Aunt Edy home and then returned. Now that he felt confident his uncle would make a total recovery, he was preparing to leave, too, and catch a few hours’ sleep.

  There was just one thing he wanted to do first: talk to Ravyn. She’d been noticeably cool and standoffish. Even Aunt Edy had mentioned it, although to her and Uncle Chet, Ravyn behaved as “polite as raspberry punch,” as his aunt would say. Mark had even seen Ravyn laughing at something another nurse said. It wasn’t her personality or his imagination. It was just him. Mark probably wouldn’t care if he and Ravyn hadn’t been friends and if her parents hadn’t made such a profound impact on his life. But for those reasons, he felt concerned and he wanted to do what he could to make things right between them.

  He checked on his uncle, who slept soundly in spite of the various ticks and hums from the surrounding machines. He gave Uncle Chet’s forearm a soft squeeze and then left the room and headed for the ER.

  He glanced at his watch. Seven o’clock. Ravyn was probably just finishing her shift.

  ❧

  Ravyn hung up her smock in the tan metal locker. She pulled off her scrubs and stuffed them into the hospital’s hamper. Next she donned the blue jeans and pink long-sleeved T-shirt she’d worn to work last night. Several feet away three other female nurses sat on backless benches and traded information about their significant others while they dressed. As Ravyn listened, a feeling of envy began to sprout somewhere deep within her being. She squelched it before it took root; she didn’t have time for a love life, although she had to admit the thought of going home to someone who adored her seemed much more appealing than returning to her lonely condominium.

  I’ll get a goldfish, she thought with a cynical note.

  Ravyn shut her locker’s door a bit harder than intended. The other nurses stopped talking for several long seconds. She smiled an apology and the ladies resumed their chatter. Folding her jacket over one forearm, she slung her purse strap across the opposite shoulder and headed for the door.

  As she made her way down the hallway, she passed employees who were on their way in to work. Suddenly Ravyn’s whole world seemed topsy-turvy, from working the night shift job to the nonexistent romance in her life—and it was all Teala’s fault. Her sister’s favorite topics of late were her boyfriend, love, and weddings. What’s more, Teala’s final project for a sociology class was to interview singles and couples and to draw conclusions as to why some men and women preferred their marital status—or why they didn’t prefer it.

  “You sound materialistic, Ravyn,” her sister had said during a phone interview yesterday afternoon. She’d called to ask questions for her project, but she didn’t stay objective for long. “It’s like you’re putting monetary things above relationships, people.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Oh? Well, when’s the last time you chose to go out with friends over working? When did you choose church over a double shift?”

  The inquisition stung, especially since Ravyn had been thinking about Mark and Shelley all day. With regard to her faith, she knew the Lord understood, and Ravyn even felt His love for her and His support of her hard work. But yesterday afternoon didn’t seem like the appropriate time to argue with her sister, let alone tell her that she’d met up with Mark in the ER. So Ravyn kept the news to herself.

  She quickened her steps down the hallway as her aggra-vation mounted.

  “Hi, Ravyn.”

  Mark stood from the bench near the entrance doors and she nearly tripped over him.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Um. . .” Ravyn felt taken aback by the near collision.

  “It won’t take long, but if you’ve got some time, I’d like to buy you breakfast.”

  Her initial reaction was to refuse the offer. Not only did Ravyn automatically dislike Mark Monroe for what had happened the summer when she was sixteen, she didn’t want to get mixed up with all the drama he caused in the ER.

  In the next second, however, Teala’s remarks came to mind. Having breakfast with Mark would prove them—and her sister—wrong. Ravyn had always enjoyed blowing up misconceptions. As for her coworkers, she figured she could explain it away easily enough if they ever found out. After all, she and Mark knew each other long before they’d entered the medical field.

  Besides, she had a few choice words to say to him, too.

  “Um. Sure. Breakfast it is.”

  Mark looked a bit surprised that she’d accepted the in-vitation, and Ravyn almost laughed.

  “Good.” He rubbed his palms together and sent her a grin. “How about if we go over to Oscar’s Family Restaurant? It’s right up the block and they serve a terrific omelet.”

  “Okay, I’ll meet you there.”

  While Mark took the parking structure’s elevator to reach his car, Ravyn walked out to the main floor, found her vehicle, and c
limbed in. She decided that one benefit to starting her shift at six thirty in the evening was that parking slots were plentiful. Clinics were closed when she began working, and except for a few departments, staff, patients, and visitors had gone home.

  As she drove to the restaurant, Ravyn mentally rehearsed what she’d say to Mark. Maybe she’d wait until after they’d eaten—or would it be better to tell him what a jerk he was right away and get it over with?

  She found the small eatery without any trouble and drove into its crowded asphalt lot. After circling twice, she finally saw a vacant slot and parked.

  Her fingers curled around the gray steering wheel as she, once again, went over her list of grievances. Then a soft tap on her window gave her a start, and Mark Monroe’s grinning face peered through the glass.

  Ravyn sucked in a breath and gathered her resolve. There was no turning back now.

  Four

  Ravyn sipped her coffee and decided it was the best brew she’d tasted in a long time.

  “This place makes dynamite coffee,” Mark stated, as if divining her very thoughts. “But don’t plan on sleeping any-time soon after drinking it.”

  “I don’t work for the next two nights, so I’ll be okay.”

  “Work the weekend?”

  Ravyn nodded and eyed the menu.

  “I don’t think I’ve had a weekend off in five years.” Mark chuckled. “Med school was four years. My residency another three—”

  Okay, it’s time. She slapped the menu closed and stared across the table at him. “What do you need to speak to me about?” She suddenly saw no purpose in the polite small talk they’d engaged in since entering the restaurant.

  Mark pursed his lips and sent her a glance. Then he, too, closed his menu. “I just wondered if you’re all right.”

  “Me?” She raised her eyebrows.

  He nodded.

  Before Ravyn could answer, the waitress appeared.

  Mark ordered for the both of them. “Two of your Greek omelets with the works.”

  The chubby brunette in her brown polyester uniform nodded and collected the laminated menus before hurrying from the table.

  Ravyn couldn’t contain her annoyance a moment more. “You’ve got a lot of nerve. How do you know I’ll eat a Greek omelet with the works? For all you know I could be allergic to eggs.”

  Mark tipped his head. “Are you?”

  “No, but—”

  “Then it’s all good. And you’ve got to try these omelets.”

  Ravyn bristled.

  “Hey, why are you so angry? You look furious.” Mark leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table. He still wore the apricot polo shirt from yesterday, and the bright color defined his swarthy features all the more. “Are you mad at me—or the whole world?”

  “I’m not angry. But you’re an egomaniac.”

  “Ah.” He bobbed his head. “So it is me. I rather thought so.”

  “See what I mean? It’s all about you. You’re arrogant.”

  Mark actually grinned. “I’d like to think I’m just confident, Ravyn. How else could I have made it through med school? Those who doubt their abilities drop out before they even get to their clinicals.”

  “You say confidence. I say arrogance. Let’s call the whole thing off.”

  Mark obviously recognized her parody of the 1937 Gershwin song and laughed. Could it be that he actually recalled how her father liked to play Gershwin’s music during rehearsal breaks? The quip had rolled off her tongue without a single thought, but now Ravyn felt somewhat taken aback by Mark’s reaction.

  “I always appreciated your sarcastic wit.”

  “Whatever.”

  Ravyn worked at regaining her momentum while Mark took another long drink from the cream-colored stoneware mug.

  “So are you dating anyone? If you are, he’s one lucky dude.”

  “Mark, false flattery will get you to zero with me. In other words, I’m not impressed.”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll try to remember that in the future. Except, I meant every word. He is lucky.”

  Ravyn didn’t bother correcting him. Talk about zero! He probably sweet-talked his way through med school, too.

  “As I recall, you’re a lot of fun. You used to get me laughing so hard I couldn’t stop. Remember that Sunday morning in church? I thought your dad was going to have a conniption because the two of us laughed so hard we shook the entire pew.”

  “The three of us.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Mark’s brows drew together in a puzzled frown.

  The moment she’d been waiting for was at hand. “There were three of us sitting together that morning. It was you, me, and Shelley.”

  Mark turned momentarily pensive. “Shelley? Shelley who?”

  Ravyn clenched her jaw. He claimed not to know Carla at work and now he doesn’t remember Shelley? What a rat!

  “Shelley Jenkins. She was my best friend and your leading lady in the play.”

  “Oh—okay. I kind of remember her now.” Mark wore a pensive expression as he probed his recollections. “But I couldn’t say for sure if Shelley was there in church with us or not.”

  “She was.” How could his memory be so hazy? “And she was at the carnival, too. Don’t you remember how all of us, cast and crew, persuaded my dad to let us out of rehearsal early one Saturday so we could go to the summer carnival? I’ll never forget it. My father has never been easily swayed—but he was that day.”

  “Oh, yeah, the carnival. That was a lot of fun.” He smiled. “We were good friends, Ravyn. That’s why I don’t understand—”

  “For your information, I spent that entire summer before my senior year in high school, listening to my best friend talk about how in love with you she was.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah.” She sent him an appalled glance. “And don’t look so pleased. Your ego is showing again.”

  “I’m not wallowing in pleasure at the news. I’m surprised.” Mark lowered his voice. “I had no idea. Give me a break, will you? I didn’t know Shelley, other than she was my leading lady until you stepped into the role.”

  Ravyn thought it over, summoning up the countless stories she’d heard about Mark from her former best friend. He’d held her hand, kissed her—said he loved her. How could he not remember Shelley?

  “You’re lying—there is no point in continuing this conver-sation.” She slid out of the padded vinyl booth and took a step toward the restaurant’s door.

  Mark caught her wrist. “On my honor as a Christian, I swear I’m telling the truth.” He inclined his head toward the place where she’d been sitting. “Why don’t you sit back down? Please. Let’s get this straightened out once and for all.”

  Ravyn pulled out of his grasp, then glanced around the restaurant. She noticed curious stares from people she thought she recognized. Did they work at Victory, too? The last thing she wanted to do was add another link to the gossip chain. She sat back down and tried to muster a bit of dignity.

  “I’ve always been fond of you, Ravyn,” Mark said in a whispered voice, “and your parents had a huge impact on my walk with Christ. It really hurts to find out that you’ve harbored such resentment against me all these years.”

  She didn’t reply but smoothed the paper napkin back over her lap.

  “Please believe me when I say there was nothing between Shelley and me.”

  “And I suppose that means nothing’s going on between you and Carla, either?”

  “Carla?” A look of puzzlement spread across his face. “Who in the world is that?”

  Ravyn tossed a glance at the ceiling. “The x-ray tech in the ER? Are you going to tell me you don’t know her, either?”

  “No, I don’t, and that’s the honest truth.”

  He seemed so sincere, but was it an act?

  Mark stared into his coffee cup. “My rotation in the ER hasn’t been easy. It really irks me when the nurses call me George. I want my life to emu
late the Lord Jesus Christ’s, not some doctor on a TV drama.” He looked up. “When I saw you a few days ago, Ravyn, I felt like God brought me an ally. I’m sorry to see that I was wrong.”

  Ravyn folded her arms and pressed her lips together, refusing to be swayed by guilt.

  “But maybe we could start over.” He took a sip of coffee. “Look, if I broke Shelley’s heart it was unintentional, I assure you.”

  Their food arrived before Ravyn could answer. After the waitress walked away, Mark asked the blessing on their meal. His simple prayer somehow reached through her animosity and touched her soul. He can’t be a fake.

  “Amen.”

  Ravyn looked up to see Mark lift his fork and dig into his omelet. Bite after bite, he ate with a mix of haste and gusto, like a man accustomed to living his life on the run.

  Meanwhile, Ravyn began to concede. She supposed it was her Christian duty to forgive and forget. Shelley was long gone; Ravyn hadn’t seen or heard from her in more than ten years.

  “So what do you think?” he asked. “Can we leave the past behind us and move on?”

  “I guess so.” Ravyn took a bit of her omelet, enjoying the rich flavor. She chewed and swallowed. “I sense that what you’re saying is true, but—it’s just hard for me to believe Shelley lied. She was my best friend. She told me about the two of you.” Ravyn cleared her throat. “Up in the balcony. Does that ring a bell?”

  Mark’s jaw dropped, and judging from his expression of disbelief, Ravyn deduced the episode never occurred.

  Shelley lied to me. The stark reality numbed Ravyn from head to toe. She lied to me!

  Mark leaned forward, his gaze sharp and narrow. “Are you accusing me of some sort of misconduct?”

  “No.” She rescinded. After all, she had no proof. How could she, in all fairness, hurl such profound allegations at him based on what she recalled hearing at age sixteen? “No, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I get the distinct feeling Shelley fabricated the romance between herself and you.”

  “That’s some heavy-duty fabrication.” Mark sat back. “Maybe I should have a talk with her.”

  “Good idea. If you can find her. I haven’t seen her since she left Dubuque almost eleven years ago.”