“My friend Maryanne might know her,” I offered. “She knows everyone.”
“If you could ask her, that would be great,” Dr. Reynolds said.
“I can let you know when I’m next at the hospital.” I paused. “Shit, that’s right, you’re only there on Tuesdays and Fridays. I won’t see you until Friday, a week.”
“Keeping up with my schedule? And here I thought you’d barely noticed me.” This time when he smiled I saw the adorable dimple in his left cheek.
“No,” I said, trying to think of a good reason I’d know his schedule. But there wasn’t one.
“No worries,” he said, letting me off the hook. Dr. Reynolds reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card and a pen. “This is my personal cell phone,” he said, handing me the card after he had scribbled his number on the back. “Please call me if your friend knows a way to get in touch with Becky. I’m sure she’s fine, but I’d like for Rose to have peace of mind.”
“Okay,” I replied, trying to keep my voice even.
“Thanks,” Dr. Reynolds said. “I’ve kept you long enough. Your boyfriend must be wondering where you are.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.” Why did I just say that? Usually I would pretend that I did have a boyfriend, if a cute guy was talking to me. No matter how tempting, I couldn’t pull someone else into my twisted life. I had to stay alone, forever. Period. That way, if I turned into the monster I was destined to become, no one else would be hurt, no lives ruined besides my own.
“Interesting to know,” Dr. Reynolds was saying.
“I’ll talk to Maryanne and get back to you.” I turned around abruptly.
“Thanks again, Lana.” Hearing my name on his lips made my heart flutter. I looked back, not sure what I would say, but Dr. Reynolds was already walking off.
“Dr. Reynolds,” I called out.
“Yes?” He stopped walking and turned around to face me.
“I’m twenty years old. And if you want to turn me in to the authorities, then go for it.” It was my best attempt at flirting.
“I’m sure that’s not necessary, Ms. Luna,” he said, mimicking my tone. “And please call me Michael. But not at the hospital. I wouldn’t want to stir up any rumors.”
“Of course not, Michael.” My heart beating out of my chest, I walked into the building, forcing myself not to look back to see if he was watching.
Chapter 5
“What in the hell took you so long?” Maryanne demanded when I got back to our room. “I thought you got lost on the way downstairs, or worse, the pizza delivery guy kidnapped you to make you his sex slave.” Maryanne’s face went pale. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t funny.”
I laughed. “Relax. You don’t have to handle me with kid gloves.”
She looked relieved. “So what was the delay? And are you alright? Your face is really flushed!”
“I’m fine,” I assured her. “I ran into someone from the hospital.”
“Huh?” Maryanne looked confused. She tried to pour another glass of wine, then realized the bottle was empty, and dissolved into a fit of giggles. “One sec.” She headed to the kitchen to open the second bottle. “Thanks to Dougie for getting us two,” she called out gleefully.
“I’m starving,” Maryanne announced when she returned. “I put in our favorite movie while I was waiting.”
“Dirty Dancing,” we said in unison.
“Because what’s pizza without a little Patrick Swayze?” I laughed.
We ate in silence, intently watching the movie we had both seen at least two dozen times.
“Hey!” Maryanne said suddenly. She snapped her fingers. “I just remembered. You never told me who you ran into.”
Shit. I was hoping you forgot. But then again, I did need to ask if she knew Becky.
“Dr. Reynolds from the hospital.” I tried to keep my voice normal. “He was looking for his niece. Becky Dunn is her name. Do you know her?”
Maryanne looked deep in thought. “I don’t think so,” she finally said. “But I can ask around.”
“Thanks,” I replied.
I was glad that Maryanne didn’t say anything else about Michael. She probably assumed that he was a lot older than twenty-nine, and of course, she had no idea he was drop dead gorgeous.
After the pizza and second bottle of wine were gone, we both passed out. When I woke up the next morning, my head felt fuzzy. It took me a minute to remember the night before. Shit.
The sun wasn’t up yet, so it must be early, but I had to pee really badly and my mouth felt like cotton. I reached down to grab my phone off the floor, where it was charging by my bed. It was only four-thirty.
I got out of bed slowly, hoping the room wouldn’t start spinning. It didn’t. I had only been hung-over once in my life. It was after my parents told me the truth about myself.
They drank socially, and kept a large cabinet of liquor for when they entertained. I’d taken a bottle of whiskey that was aged for like a million years in an oak cask. Freaked out and pissed off at the world, I had drunk straight from the bottle until I passed out. I’d woken up to find myself vomiting off the side of my bed.
I shuddered at the memory. I’d been very careful with alcohol since then; I’d rather die than feel that way again. I was relieved that today I only felt slightly sick. I went to the bathroom and then headed into the kitchen for some water and an aspirin.
Maryanne was still sound asleep, so I quietly crawled back into bed and pulled the covers up to my chin, even though I wasn’t cold. I stared at the ceiling, mulling over my strange meeting with Michael the night before. Did he like me? Or did he flirt like that with all the girls?
Somehow I couldn’t imagine Michael looking at Nurse Evie the way he had looked at me. I sighed and rolled over.
I had sworn off men. I had to put Michael out of my mind. Next time I saw him, I’d be cool and standoffish. He’d get the message.
But as much as I tried to convince myself that I was not going to get involved with Michael Reynolds, there was this nagging doubt in the back of my mind. Maybe, just maybe, I could have a relationship with a man. Eventually tell him about my dark history, warn him about my possibly darker future. Maybe he would understand.
I knew it was crazy talk, but yet I couldn’t stop myself. Yep, I was definitely in trouble.
###
The rest of the weekend was uneventful. I had a lot of schoolwork to do, and I spent most of the time in my dorm room working. Maryanne went out Saturday night, so I had the place to myself. I ordered Chinese food and watched a Breaking Bad marathon. I was tempted to contact Michael and tell him that Maryanne hadn’t been able to find out anything about Becky, but I didn’t want to encourage him. He’d figure out that no call meant no news.
By the time Monday arrived, I’d strengthened my resolve to have nothing to do with Michael. It was a good thing the only day we were both at the hospital was Friday. And, hopefully, I could avoid him on that day.
It was only my second week at the hospital, and the nurse working the station where I signed in for my shift was someone I had never met before. Her name was Janet.
“Nice to meet you, Lana,” she said with a smile. “They need you to man the Cheer Cart today.”
“Um, I’m not sure what that is,” I said apologetically. “This is my third day.”
“Oh!” Nurse Janet laughed. “The Cheer Cart has candy, magazines, crossword puzzle books, decks of cards, that kind of stuff. You take it from room to room and let the patients decide if they want anything from it. It really makes their day. Well, some of them,” she amended.
“Okay,” I said. Nurse Janet instructed me to go to the hospital gift shop, which is where they kept and stocked the cart. They’d tell me what to put on the cart, and I was given a list of the floors to visit. The Cheer Cart didn’t make stops on the floor with mothers and newborns or the floor with patients just out of surgery.
Nurse Janet was right. Almost every patient that wasn’t aslee
p was thrilled to see the Cheer Cart. I think a lot of them just wanted interaction with someone other than a nurse or doctor. I went leisurely from room to room, talking to the people who felt like it. A lot of the older patients seemed lonely. They would chat about the weather, their grandkids, sometimes complaining about their children who never visited and were only waiting to see what they’d get in the will.
Not all of them were bitter, though. An elderly lady who told me to call her Cynthia – “Mrs. Green just reminds me that I’m really old,” she’d said – talked about her younger days dancing with a ballet troupe.
“I never had any kids,” Cynthia told me.
I found myself asking her if she regretted that decision.
“No,” she replied. “After I became too old to dance with the troupe, I started instructing ballet. It took up all of my time and I loved every minute of it. I wouldn’t have been able to give a child the attention they needed. And besides, what good would it do me now? I don’t want anyone to take care of me in my old age. If I get out of here alive, I’ll go back home and fend for myself. And if I don’t? Well, those are just the breaks.” Cynthia laughed and so did I. I liked her immediately.
Even though my feet ached from walking around with the cart, I hoped they would let me do this again. It made the time pass quickly, and I felt good about giving the sick people a chance to talk about something other than their illnesses.
When I got to floor six, the cancer floor, I thought about Dr. Reynolds. I was half-relieved, half-disappointed that he wasn’t here on Mondays. The majority of the cancer patients didn’t want anything from the Cheer Cart. Most of them were in really bad shape. I had just finished going to all of the rooms along one of the halls and was turning the corner when I almost crashed into someone with the cart.
“Sorry!” we said in unison.
I looked up. “Michael! I thought you weren’t here on Mondays?” I remembered the last time I’d seen him, braless and drunk. How mortifying.
He leaned forward conspiratorially. “Remember, it’s Dr. Reynolds when we’re at the hospital. Outside of this place, you can call me whatever you want.” Michael winked.
I gulped nervously. My heart was racing again. “I couldn’t find out anything about Becky,” I said, “so I didn’t call.”
“You could have called me anyway. I wouldn’t have minded.” He paused for me to say something, but I couldn’t think of anything witty, and I had promised myself I would act standoffish.
“Rose called me,” he continued. “Becky finally got in touch with her. So it was a false alarm. I would have let you know, but I didn’t have a way to contact you.”
I forced myself to look him in the eyes, not let him see the effect that he had on me. “I’m glad she’s okay,” I said.
Michael nodded. “Me, too.”
“I thought you didn’t come here on Mondays?” I asked him again. If I was going to run into him randomly on any given day that I was volunteering, I’d like to at least be mentally prepared.
“Not happy to see me?” He grinned and I couldn’t help but smile back. “I came by to check on one of my patients. When things get...critical, I try to stop by every day. Most of the families appreciate it, and I like to personally introduce them to the hospice coordinator, let them weigh all of the options.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“It’s not easy,” he admitted.
We stood there in silence. “I need to finish my rounds with the Cheer Cart,” I finally said.
“Nice to see you again, Lana.” Michael flashed that adorable smile again and continued on his way.
###
By the time I was leaving it was just getting dark out. I had stayed an hour longer than my scheduled shift. I’d been ready to go earlier, but felt guilty about cutting off the patients who wanted to chat. It was the least I could do, really.
The hospital offered a complimentary service where the security guard would walk you to your car. I wasn’t going to use it, but there were two guards in the lobby and when they saw me about to leave, one of them said he’d walk me out.
“I’ll be fine,” I tried to say.
He looked at me disapprovingly.
“I’ll walk her out.”
I turned around. It was Michael.
“Thanks, Dr. Reynolds,” the guard said. He looked at me. “A young girl doesn’t need to take any chances,” he lectured.
“Where are you parked?” Michael asked me when we got outside of the building.
“Deck B,” I answered.
“And you were going to walk out alone? That’s on the other side of the lot,” Michael said.
“It was crowded when I got here. Anyway, I’d have been fine. I have a cell phone.”
“Let me drive you to your car,” Michael said. “I have a reserved spot close by.”
“Okay,” I replied. Warning bells were going off in my head, but I ignored them.
Michael stopped at a parking space with the words “Dr. M. Reynolds” painted on the concrete in front of his car.
He drove a steel gray BMW. I glanced at the model year on the back. 2013. Almost new.
Michael opened the door for me so I could get in. “Thanks,” I said, sliding into the black leather seat.
“So what are you studying in school?” he asked me.
“Economics. But after that I’m going to med school to become a pediatrician. It’s why I’m volunteering at the hospital,” I explained.
I stared out the window as Michael drove to my car.
“I’m parked on the third level,” I told him. “But nothing fancy like your BMW.” I laughed. “Mine is the beat up Mini.”
“Nothing wrong with that. You should have seen my last car,” he said. Michael pulled into the empty parking space next to the Mini.
“Thanks for the lift.” I turned to get out.
“Wait.”
My hand still on the door handle, I asked, “Yes?”
“Let me take you out to dinner on Saturday.”
I was caught off guard. I had expected the flirting to continue, but somehow I didn’t think he’d ask me out that fast.
“Er, I’m flattered,” I started.
“But?” Michael grinned wryly. “Do I seem ancient at twenty-nine?”
I laughed. “No, it’s not that at all.”
“Then what?”
I couldn’t tell him the truth. And I’d already said I didn’t have a boyfriend.
“Seriously, Lana,” Michael continued, “if you tell me right here, right now that you feel nothing whatsoever for me, I’ll leave you alone. I’m not one of those guys who can’t take no for an answer. But I promise you, I don’t bite,” he said suggestively.
I looked away. I wanted to say yes. I really did. And this was my only chance. If I said no, it would be over. Was there really any harm in one date?
“I’m not trying to pressure you, but I’m curious what the hesitation is? Surely you feel the chemistry between us?”
Of course I did. I found myself nodding. Michael’s face broke out into a grin. “I’m just not dating material,” I said.
His smile was replaced by a shocked expression. “Lana, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. How can you say you’re not dating material? I couldn’t believe that you didn’t have a boyfriend. I thought there’d be guys lining up to go out with you.”
“Ha! Not quite.” I didn’t want Michael to think I was a complete freak, so I amended my original statement. “I’ve just been taking a break from dating for awhile. But I guess there’s no time like the present to get back in the game.”
“Dinner Saturday then?”
I nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“Call me sometime this week so that I have your number. I already know where you live. I’ll pick you up at eight. Anything else I need to know? Vegan? Vegetarian?” Michael asked playfully.
“Carnivore,” I corrected him, smiling.
“Gre
at. Me, too. I hope to see you this week at the hospital.” He paused. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but I looked up your schedule. It’s part of the reason I came to the hospital today.”
“Really?” I asked in surprise. “What about the critical patient? Was that just BS?”
“No, not at all.” His face turned serious. “But I would have come in the morning, on the way to my office. When you were in class.”
“Oh.” Stop grinning like an idiot. “Well, I’ll see you soon then.”
I started to open the door. “Wait,” he said for a second time.
Michael slid out of the driver’s seat and came around to open my door. I got out nervously. I thought that by the way he was staring at me that he wanted to kiss me. Heart racing, I gazed up at Michael, hoping my eyes would reveal that I wanted the same.
But instead, Michael leaned forward and gave me a quick hug. I thought I might melt in his embrace. I forced my knees not to give out on me.
“Drive home safely,” he said lightly. He waited until I got in my car and followed me out of the parking garage. Then, with a slight wave, he was gone.
Chapter 6
I debated whether I should tell Maryanne that I had a date Saturday. I knew she’d be thrilled, but it wouldn’t, couldn’t go anywhere, so what was the point in talking about it?
But when I got home, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. Maryanne was sprawled out on her bed, a calculus book in front of her. She didn’t seem to be doing a lot of work, though. The TV was on and she was filing her nails.
“Hey, MA,” I said cheerfully.
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You’re in an unusually good mood.”
“I’m not always a sourpuss,” I argued. “But you’re right. I had an exciting day. Guess what?”
She looked up from her nails. “You aced a test?”
I snorted. “That’s what you think makes my day?” Before she could answer, I said, “Actually, I have a date on Saturday.” It felt strange to say those words.
Maryanne sprung up to a sitting position, her eyes widening in surprise. “Lana, that’s awesome! Who’s the guy? He must be pretty special if you agreed to go out with him. Give me all the details!”
Dark Moon Page 3
