by Tess Oliver
Chapter 22
Andi
I was finishing reading the clipboard on a new patient. My less than fun coworker, Nurse Rathford, leaned against the file cabinets with her silly little container of yogurt and her even more silly grin.
“I’ve got you to thank for this new watch, Nurse Sullivan.” She stuck out her hand and tilted it back and forth to show off the glittery silver watch. It had little fake diamonds around the face, and I quickly decided it would be the last kind of watch I would ever wear.
“How so? Not that I’m actually interested in your watch.”
The bitchy grin on her face assured me I wasn’t going to like where this was going. I was regretting asking how it involved me.
She took a stealthy glance around to make sure none of the higher-ups were in ear shot and then swung back to face me. “A few of us had a running bet on how long you’d be able to keep your hooks in Dr. Hughes. I said six months tops. As you might have figured, I won. Heather and Kiley had a little more confidence in your ability to keep him snared. They had you at a year and a half.”
I was plenty pissed and plenty hurt that my coworkers had done something so creepy behind my back, but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of knowing it. I knew from the start that she was jealous as hell about me dating Gary. She’d been like an aggravating tick about it right from the start. At one point, I was sure she’d turn me in to human resources for it. But that would have earned her too much wrath from the other nurses on the floor. Not to mention from Dr. Hughes, himself.
She nearly dropped her yogurt as I unexpectedly moved right up to her, standing nearly toe to toe. “Rhonda, maybe you need to use hooks and snares to keep a man. I don’t.” She flinched. “And he’s all yours. If you can catch him.”
I left her with her nostrils flared and her yogurt container clutched tightly in her fingers. The bell over the ambulance vestibule rang, letting us know that an emergency vehicle had arrived with a new patient. Gary swept around the corner, and we headed shoulder to shoulder toward the doors. After a few days of awkwardness and avoiding each other, we had both settled back into a professional working partnership. We were good together as a medical team, and it was ridiculous to let anything get in the way of that.
“A drug overdose,” Gary said, quickly, “combative victim, from what the paramedics have described. Not sure what he took, but they’ve got him strapped down.”
The doors to the ambulance swung open. An almost inhuman roar echoed off the vestibule’s cement walls. “Holy heck, did they bring us Frankenstein?”
It took all three paramedics and two policemen to get the gurney out of the ambulance. Thick leather straps held the massive man tightly down, but his body writhed and squirmed beneath the restraints, making it hard to maneuver the gurney. It nearly toppled sideways twice before they managed to get the wheels moving forward.
“Bed two,” I told the harried looking emergency crew. It was clear this had not just been a routine call.
The man yelled a string of loud obscenities as he was wheeled through the corridor. The obscenities turned to threats, letting us know in no uncertain terms that he was going to ‘fucking kill all of us’.
Gary tried to hold it together, but he looked about ready to wet his scrubs. I was right there with him.
“What did he take?” Gary asked the police officer who’d accompanied the man.
“His friends thought it was a mixture of PCP, and he possibly snorted some bath salts for an extra kick.” The officer glanced at the man who was wriggling and twitching beneath the restraining straps as if bugs were eating him alive. “Looks like he got that extra kick and a few good hallucinations along with it.”
“Let’s get some Diazepam in him.” Gary looked at me. “We might need to tube him, and let’s see if we can get an IV started.”
I rushed out to get the Diazepam, a drug that would help relieve the anxiety and hallucinations and possibly help calm the patient down. By the time I returned, another nurse and resident had entered the room. It was a full house. They worked together to try and get in an IV tube, not an easy task on a moving target. Dr. Hughes was inserting the endotracheal tube and not having an easy time of it, even with every helpful hand in the room holding down the man’s head and limbs.
“Dr. Hughes, the top of his hand is trapped against the bed. We can’t get the right angle for the needle.” The freshly minted resident, a young doctor from an out of state University was getting his first real taste of the emergency room.
I moved to walk around to the side of the bed where the resident stood, but Gary shook his head at me. He wanted the resident to solve the problem himself. I stayed put with my tray of drugs.
Gary looked at the patient. “He seems to be relaxing some. I think we can remove that strap long enough to get his hand turned around.”
I watched as Gary finally managed to get the tube into the man’s mouth. He began feeding it down his trachea while the police officer helped the slightly shaky resident unfasten the strap.
A brief moment of calm floated through the room. It was the proverbial calm before the storm. Dr. Hughes was concentrating on the tube, so I was the first to see the tremors.
“Seizure,” I said quickly.
Dr. Hughes removed the tube. As he leaned back, the patient was seized with violent convulsions. His newly free hand flew in an arc. Before I could think to move, his stone hard fist flew into my face. The metal tray flew up in the air, and I was thrown back against the heart monitor. Chaos followed, but I was unaware of most of it. It took me a second to even know what had happened. The buzz in my head put me in a daze, and the pain in my face was excruciating.
Gary yelled orders and feet swept past me including two pairs that stopped in front of me. The resident and an orderly helped me to my feet as another orderly pushed a wheelchair into the doorway of the trauma room.
“I’m all right. I just need to sit for a few minutes,” I said weakly. I was feeling nauseous from the blow to my head. The people and room spun around me as I turned to sit in the wheelchair. It felt as if the wheelchair was careening from side to side as I was pushed out into the corridor.
Several of my coworkers came dashing out from rooms and from the center station in the middle of the circle of treatment rooms. “Oh my gosh, Andi’s been hurt,” I heard a voice say. It was a familiar voice, but I couldn’t place the face or name.
I was wheeled to the nearest treatment room. I knew enough to figure I’d just had my bells rung but nothing more. The numbness in my cheek assured me I’d have a nice pretty bruise on my face.
Nurse Rathford came running to me, looking a little contrite about our earlier conversation. “Andi, let’s get you to a bed. I’m so sorry—”
“Rhonda, it’s all right. I’m fine but I’m pretty sure I’m going to puke any second.”
“Right.” She raced ahead and grabbed a plastic tub and placed it on my lap. “Let’s get her to a bed now.”
Chapter 23
Andi
The painkiller had kicked in. Once I’d thrown up, I felt a great deal better, which was often the case. The hospital administrator, workman’s comp doctor and my union representative had prescribed all kinds of scans even though I’d tried desperately to protest them. Aside from a slight concussion and an ugly bruise on my cheek, it seemed I was going to live to see another day. But it was decided that I would have a week off with pay to recuperate from what had been labeled as a ‘traumatic experience’. Once it was all said and done, it didn’t seem all that traumatic. The hazard of dealing with a belligerent patient was part of the job.
Gary walked into the room with the cup of coffee I’d asked for. The sympathy in his expression was irritating. I knew it was more the guilt he’d been feeling from ducking out of the way of the flailing fist so that it could land directly on me.
“God, Gary—Dr. Hughes,” I corrected, “don’t keep looking at me as if you gave me this bruise. It was a completely na
tural reaction. You ducked out of the way. I, on the other hand, have the reflexes of a drugged sloth, apparently.” I took the coffee and sighed after a nice warm sip. “And now you’ve made up for it by bringing me this coffee. From the cafeteria?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Hmm, tastes good for a change.” I took another sip. “How is Frankenstein?”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “Stable. Stupid ass. They finally reached your brother. He should be here soon. Why didn’t you want us to call your parents?”
“Because I’m fine. They would have stressed me out, and I’m not up for that. I told you I could drive myself home once the pills wore off.”
“No possible way that is happening.” He reached for my hand, but I scooted it away. “Andi, I miss you.”
I blinked at him, wondering if I’d actually heard the words or if I was just in a weird drug induced dream.
“I made a mistake. It was a hasty decision, and I’ve been regretting it ever since.”
“Gary—” I started, but two large figures entered the room. It was hard to judge who looked more freaked out with worry, Dawson or Tommy. Gary’s lip turned up with an ill-timed show of disapproval as Tommy walked to the opposite side of the bed. They had both decided to skip cleaning the grit and sweat of the workday off their skin. They looked tired and dirty. I wanted to hug and kiss them both.
Gary stood up. “I’ll get your release papers,” he said curtly.
Dawson skirted past him without a glance. I’d never introduced Gary to him or anyone else from Bluefield for that matter. But then he’d never seemed interested in my family or history. He knew I was the daughter of a coal miner and that I had two sisters and a brother. That seemed to be more than enough for him to know. He’d never asked any other details of my life.
Dawson and Tommy stood each on opposite sides of the bed and stared down at me with round eyes. Dawson went to touch the bruise on my cheek, but I stopped him.
“What are you doing? It’s still tender. I think the guy was wearing a ring.”
Dawson nailed his fist against his opposite palm. “Who was he? Where the fuck is he? Huck and I are going to send him to an early fucking grave.”
“Yeah, Sulli, who the hell did this to you?” Tommy asked with a jaw clenched like a steel trap.
I laughed, causing the whole side of my face to hurt. I pressed my hand against my ear to stop the throbbing. “Would you two swaggering, blustery big shots calm down. Didn’t they tell you what happened?”
“Only that some guy hit you in the face,” Dawson explained. “Seriously, Andi, was it that doctor asshole you broke up with? Just point me in his direction.”
“Uh, Dawz.” Tommy pointed toward the door. “You just passed him, and, asshole or not, he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d hit a woman. Who was it?”
“It was a patient who was out of control because of some weird mix of drugs and bath salts. He was in a seizure when his fist flew at me, so I think we’ll just have to figure that he’s already had a rough night. He doesn’t need my two protectors to make it worse.” I took hold of each of their hands. “Not that I don’t appreciate it.” My head turned on the pillow, and I smiled up at Tommy. The worry in his face brought me close to tears. “I’m fine. Really. Just a little bruised up.”
He squeezed my fingers. His throat moved as he swallowed hard.
“Let’s get you out of here.” Dawson walked out to get the release papers.
Tommy sat on the bed and reached for my cheek. This time, I didn’t flinch away from a touch. His callused fingertips ran along the outside of the bruise. The tears that had burned my eyes fell.
We didn’t speak. It seemed nothing needed to be said. There was something happening between us. It was slow and deep and a little hard to understand, or maybe it was just confusing on my side. Tommy was always confident and self-assured. He always knew exactly what he wanted. It was just still hard to believe that he wanted me.
Dawson walked back in. Tommy slowly dropped his hand and stood. “I guess I’ll drive my truck home, and you can take Andi home.”
“Thanks again for lending me your truck, Tommy,” I said. “It was so nice not having to ride the bus. I guess I won’t be needing it for a week. They gave me some time off.”
“They better have,” Dawson said. “Should be giving you fucking combat pay too.”
“O.K. drama queen, drive me home.” I sat up and lowered my legs to the floor. Tommy immediately put his arm around me for support. What I really wanted was to curl up in his arms and have him carry me out of the place. Suddenly, having Tommy hold me was the only thing I could think of that would make me feel better.
“You know, Dawson, I don’t think I want to face all of Mom’s questions or Dad’s lectures about what I should have done to avoid this.” I pointed to my cheek. “I know you’ve got that extra room. Can I crash at your place tonight? I’ll feel more like facing them tomorrow.”
“Anything for my favorite sister.” Dawson walked over and shooed Tommy away. Tommy reluctantly dropped his arm, and Dawson put his arm around me.
It seemed that every head in the place turned as we walked past the nurses’ station and down the hallway. The guys looked completely out of place in the sterile white corridor of the hospital, gritty, big, tough and slightly menacing. But my female coworkers weren’t watching them with fear. There were plenty of starry eyed gazes and sweet flirty smiles following us out. I made sure to flash the nurses, my supposed friends, who had made bets as to when I would lose Dr. Hughes, a haughty chin lift as I walked out between Dawson and Tommy.
Gary glanced out of a treatment room as we went past. His weird unexpected apology and what seemed like a half-hearted attempt to get back together had fled from my mind the instant that Dawson and Tommy had walked in to the room. It was never going to happen. I’d tried that route, and I was done with it. It wasn’t for me. I loved my job, as harrowing and stressful as it was, but I would never fit in a doctor’s world. I was a Bluefield girl, the daughter and sister and friend of coal miners. That wasn’t ever going to change.
Chapter 24
Tommy
It was poker night at The Hole. Dawson and I had planned to play until the night was thrown upside down with the call from the hospital. Neither of us took the time to wash off the coal dust. We’d climbed back into Dawson’s car. His foot had slammed down on the gas pedal, and he didn’t let up until we parked at the hospital. We’d only gotten bits of information about what had happened, and every bad scenario had gone through our heads. We had both been relieved to see that apart from a nasty bruise on her face and seeing a few stars, Andi was all right.
I’d driven back separately and walked inside the cabin a few minutes behind them. Dawson had gone down the hall to his room. Andi was just sipping some water in the kitchen. Aside from the black and blue cheek, she looked better than she had in the hospital. But it was clear that the whole shitty event had taken its toll on her. All I could think was that I wanted to hold her and take all of the bad stuff away for good. It drove me crazy when she was out of my reach where I couldn’t protect her, like the incident on the bus, or tonight in the hospital. I knew she was tough and she could take care of herself, but that didn’t lessen my need to keep her safe. It was always extra frustrating when something happened that was beyond my control.
“I’m glad you’re staying here, Andi,” I said, quietly not needing Dawson to hear. “Even if I couldn’t have stopped you from getting hurt tonight, I’m glad you’ll be here for us to keep an eye on.”
Unexpectedly, her eyes glazed with tears. “Tommy—” she started to speak, but Dawson’s return stopped her. She sucked in an audible, steadying breath. “I was just telling Dawson that I don’t need a babysitter. I’m fine. You two guys can play poker tonight. I would feel terrible if you skipped it on my account. I know how much you guys look forward to it.”
“Nah, what kind of brother would I be? I’ll stay in case you nee
d something?”
“First of all, Dawson, I’m a nurse. I can call you if I think there’s something wrong. Plus, I know you and you’ll just sit here all night with that pouty boo boo face you get when you’re upset, and that will not help me at all.”
“I don’t have a pouty boo boo face.”
I looked over at him. “Sorry to tell you this, bro, but yeah, you do. You go, Dawz. I need to keep money for my vacation. Besides, you always win, and I hate watching that big, smirking gloaty face more than your pouty one.”
“What the fuck will you need money for on your rail riding vacation?”
“O.K., guys, the headache I had is now getting worse. Both of you go play cards.”
“Seriously, Dawz, I’m not in the mood to play tonight. I’ll keep an eye on her. Anyhow, now that I started that stupid fucking detective series on Netflix, I have to see how it ends. It’s like not being able to look away from an ugly accident. I don’t even like the show anymore. The cast of characters is so annoying that I could care less what happens to any of them, but—”
“You invested the time to watch the first nine episodes,” Andi finished for me.
“Exactly.”
That was all the convincing Dawson needed. He headed straight in to shower. He was a much better poker player than me, and he loved the game. Whereas, I could take it or leave it. And then there was my other motive. Being near Andi.
Andi grabbed a banana off the counter and plopped down on the couch to eat it. She was still wearing her blue hospital scrubs, a look that should have been boring and industrial, yet she managed to make it look damn sexy.
“I’ll go and make sure the spare room isn’t too scary. We haven’t really been in there since Kellan dragged his shit out. I’ll tell the cockroaches it’s time to clear out.”
She lifted the banana. “Much appreciated. I’m not really into sharing a room with varmints.”
