Heart Like Mine

by Maggie McGinnis

  Delaney’s shoulders fell as she heard his sigh. She really hadn’t meant to make him feel like he was on trial, but she knew that’s exactly how her question had come out.

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t making a judgment about whether our stay rates are acceptable. I’m just trying to understand why the numbers sit where they do. One of my goals is to look at reducing inpatient days for chronic patients like her.”

  “I know. And again, I’d urge you to take into account a wide variety of demographic factors before you determine whether those national averages hold water with our particular patient population.”

  “I’m trying. Promise. Charlotte was somebody I wanted to meet because, on paper, she’s exactly the kind of kid who should garner a seven-day stay, not two weeks.”

  “By exactly the kind of kid, are you referring to the fact that she’s covered by Medicaid?”

  She bristled at his question, but obviously he’d ask. After all, how many meetings went on where the number of Medicaid beds was discussed? How many times were the words lost revenue mentioned in connection with those beds? And in all honesty, wasn’t it the primary reason she’d poked her head into Charlotte’s room in the first place?

  She wasn’t ready to admit that to Dr. Mackenzie. “I was actually referring to her age and her general level of health, not her insurance status.”

  He looked down, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

  “Listen.” She paused. “I know you don’t know me, and I know I’m from the evil sixth floor, but here’s the thing—my personal goal here is to get the best care to every child who needs it. I’m not looking at ways to cut services to vulnerable kids. I’m not looking to slash staffing on a floor that can’t afford to lose nurses. I’m not looking to boot patients back home, if they should really be here.”

  “That’s all fine and good, but none of that will help you make budget cuts, and if I understand correctly, that part’s nonnegotiable, right?”

  She sighed, letting her eyes skate over his broad shoulders, over those hands she’d been trying not to fantasize about since they’d met. For about the hundredth time this week, she wished they were working on an uncontentious project together, rather than this unwelcome, unfair exercise in prioritizing a set of items that could all arguably vie for the number one position.

  She closed her salad. “If there’s any way to make your floor run leaner, we need to figure that out. It’s late, and I’ll be blunt—I imagine more than my job will be on the line if we don’t.”

  “I get it.” He put up his hands. “If we really dig deep, we might be able to save a few hundred here or there, but not the kind of money you’re talking about. It just isn’t there, and I’m not being evasive. I’m telling you straight out that there’s just nothing you’re going to find that’ll have the effect you’re looking for—unless you want to start playing God and deciding who gets care and who doesn’t.”

  “Of course not.”

  “So what do we do?”

  Delaney looked up at the ceiling. “We’ve got a budget number to land on. If we can’t get there by cutting expenses, then we need to find a way to increase revenue. I think the first step is for the two of us to sit down with my revised proposal so I can understand the impact of every line item on there. Then we can move to alternative avenues. But I’ve got to be able to show due diligence on this, Dr. Mackenzie. I cannot go before that board and propose level funding because you said so. It’ll never fly.”

  “Understood. Why don’t you come down tomorrow and spend another day observing, and then we’ll meet when you’re ready?”

  “I think … that sounds fine.”

  He looked out the window again, then back at the hallway through her open door, shaking his head.

  “I can’t believe how quiet it is up here.”

  “Well, it’s late. Everybody’s gone home.”

  He nodded, looking in no hurry to leave. “Do you work this late often? Or is this because you spent the day downstairs?”

  “Little of both.” She shrugged slowly. “It’s a nice time of day to get stuff done. No interruptions.”

  “Ah.” He straightened up and gathered his salad container. “Except for rogue docs trying to convince you not to cut their funding?”

  “It’s a problem. But you brought dinner, so you’re excused.” She pointed to her salad. “Thank you again, by the way.”

  He shrugged, smiling. “I figured inviting you out for a lobster dinner would be completely transparent. The other department heads would talk.”

  She let out a surprised laugh, but felt it falter as she looked at his face, which had grown suddenly serious. In the soft light of her desk lamp, it was easy to imagine the two of them having a quiet little dinner in her office, followed by—dessert. She felt her cheeks flush as she pictured closing the door, sliding into his arms, clearing her desk as he kissed her silly in the moonlight.

  “Right.” Her voice was embarrassingly shaky. “Not a big lobster fan, unfortunately.”

  He pushed the chair back toward her desk, not at all hurried. But then he took two steps toward the door, and she stood up to follow, intending to close it behind him. Clearly, he didn’t hear her, because before he reached it, he turned around, and she almost ran into him.

  He chuckled as he put out a hand to steady her, and this time, he didn’t let go. She looked up, and his eyes scanned her face, landing for a long beat on her lips. Then he blinked hard and let his hand slide from her arm while he reached for the door.

  “Good night, Delaney.”

  Chapter 9

  Early the next afternoon, Delaney was walking by a patient room when she heard a commotion and then a scared scream.

  “Oh, no! Help! Help!”

  Delaney looked left, then right, but the hallway was empty for the first time all day. She was the only hospital employee in sight, and somebody needed help. Oh, God. She wasn’t trained to help with emergencies down here.

  She wasn’t trained to help with emergencies anywhere.

  She ran into the room, then stopped short as she saw a mom with her little boy on the bed. And the blood. So much blood.

  “Help! Please help me! He’s bleeding!”

  The woman grabbed a towel and pushed it down onto the boy’s leg, but it quickly turned red. Delaney’s stomach lurched when she caught sight of the boy’s eyes, which were open wide and terrified.

  She ran closer, but couldn’t see his call button anywhere on his bed. God! Where was it? Where was everybody?

  She spotted a pile of white washcloths on a little shelf near the foot of the bed, so she grabbed the whole pile and pressed down on the boy’s thigh, keeping her eyes on his face so she didn’t faint.

  “It’s okay, buddy.” She tried to keep her voice even and calm. “We’ll fix you right up. The doctor’s coming.”

  Please, God, let the damn doctor be coming.

  His eyes rolled back as the washcloths soaked through, and Delaney panicked.

  “What happened? Where’s his call button?”

  “I don’t know!” The mother looked terrified as she let go of the cloths and pawed through his blankets.

  “Go get help!” Delaney motioned with her chin. Somebody had to hold pressure, or this poor kid was going to bleed out. “Go get somebody!”

  The woman fled the room, and ten seconds later, Delaney could hear feet running down the hallway. A lot of feet. She’d pulled the end of the boy’s sheet loose and was trying to add that to the pile of washcloths, but the bleeding wasn’t stopping. Oh, God. Why wasn’t the bleeding stopping?

  Two hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back. “Out of the way, Delaney.” She tripped backward but caught her balance as Millie took her place at the bedside. Nurses started hammering out words like blood and platelets and stat and OR and Delaney suddenly felt woozy as she watched a crowd of freakishly happy scrubs efficiently surround the little boy.

  The scene dissolved into one fr
om her past, and she reached for the wall so she didn’t tip over.

  She couldn’t see what the nurses were doing, and the pace was an absolute frenzy. As she stood in the corner of the room, terrified, Joshua came striding in. She watched as he calmly took charge of the situation, and ten minutes later, the boy was off to the operating room, a pressure bandage of some sort on his thigh. His mother followed, twisting her hands as she practically ran down the hallway behind them.

  Once the room cleared, Delaney let out her first audible breath, leaning on the empty bed so she didn’t collapse. Then she noticed the blood. It was all over her hands, her arms, her skirt, her shoes. She swallowed hard.

  “You okay?” Joshua’s voice startled her from the doorway.

  She raised her eyes, knowing she must look like she’d just come out a loser in the zombie apocalypse. Words failed her, though. She just held up her hands, looking at them like they belonged to someone else.

  “I—think I need to clean up.”

  He raised his eyebrows, walking quickly toward her. “I think you need to sit down.”

  “No, I’m fine. I’m—fine. I’m sure I’m fine.”

  “Delaney, you are deathly white right now. Sit.”

  He pushed her gently into a chair, then put a warm hand on the back of her neck, urging her head forward.

  “Head between your knees.”

  “I’m not going to keel over.”

  She was totally going to keel over.

  “Yeah, you are. Please just do what I say. I’m a doctor, remember?”

  “Okay, okay.” Delaney could feel the smile in his words. She let his hand push her head downward, but was surprised when it didn’t leave her neck once she was safely in a don’t-keel position. Instead, his fingers kneaded slowly, soothingly.

  “Take a couple of deep, slow breaths.”

  His voice was low, soft, calm, like one he’d use with a patient on the edge, and suddenly she felt ridiculous. Here he was in charge of an entire patient floor with thirty patients and ten nurses, and instead of taking care of any of them, he was stuck dealing with an interloper from finance who couldn’t handle the sight of blood.

  She pushed upward, and he slid his hand away from her neck.

  “Easy does it. Take it slow.”

  “I’m so sorry. You have way more important people to be taking care of right now.”

  He laughed softly. “Is that what you think?”

  “How can I not?” She pointed at the space where the bed had been, then out at the hallway. “Your nurses are scary efficient, by the way.”

  “Yep. They are.” He nodded. “Best in the business. Just not enough of them.”

  Her eyes skittered around the room, trying not to land again on the empty spot where the little boy’s bed had been.

  “Delaney.” His voice commanded her to look at him, and she couldn’t—not.

  She took a shaky breath. “Is he going to be okay?”

  “They’re taking good care of him.”

  She swallowed, wincing. She’d heard those words before, in another lifetime.

  Her voice was quiet when she spoke. “Is that what you’re trained to say? You know, so you don’t have to answer yes or no?”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “But is he?”

  Joshua blew out a breath. “I don’t know. Is that better? Is that what you want to hear?”

  She put her head down, picturing the fear in the little boy’s eyes. “No.”

  “That’s why I say the other.”

  “Okay.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Okay.”

  He stepped back. “I need to get to the nurses’ station and check on things. I’ll send Millie down here. She’ll show you where you can shower and put on some clean scrubs.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You did great, Delaney.”

  “Right.” She swallowed. “I’m not—I didn’t—oh, God.” She felt tears prickling behind her eyes, and she did everything she could not to let them seep out.

  “Hey.” He stepped back toward her, putting his hand on her shoulder. “You did your best. That’s all any of us can do.” His eyes searched hers. “Are you okay? Really?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “I’m … fine. Just need a moment.”

  He squeezed her, then let go, but paused before he turned. “I’ll send Millie down.”

  As he left the room, Delaney felt her knees start shaking, then her thighs. All of the adrenaline that had fueled her through the past twenty minutes was still cruising around her system with no outlet, and as her fingers tingled, she wondered what it felt like to faint.

  She took a deep breath, remembering Joshua’s hand on her neck, his quiet words in her ear.

  Dammit, this is why she sat on the sixth floor. And this is why med school had only been a pipe dream. She wasn’t wired to handle this stuff. Wasn’t equipped in the least.

  Because creating a pseudo-spa with Charlotte yesterday wasn’t pediatric-floor reality.

  This was reality.

  * * *

  Twenty minutes later, Delaney turned the water up hotter, nearly scorching her skin. She’d been in the pediatric floor’s shower cubicle for ten minutes already, but still couldn’t get the feel of the blood off her skin. Couldn’t get the smell out of her nose. Couldn’t get the sight of the poor little boy’s frightened eyes out of her head.

  She was still embarrassed at how close she’d been to fainting when Dr. Mackenzie had walked in. The sight of that blood … on her own hands … had brought her back to med school, back to the horrifying day she’d finally realized that though she’d graduated at the top of her undergrad class and was on a full scholarship, she just—didn’t belong there.

  She’d spent her entire childhood hearing hospital stories from her dad. He reveled in talking about new procedures, or tough cases he’d had, and through it all, she’d nodded and listened and tried to quell her gag reflex.

  When it had come time to pick a college, his alma mater had come calling with a scholarship, and she’d accepted, thinking everything was falling into place just perfectly. Then she’d sailed through four years, got into her top-choice med school, and was pretty sure she was on her way to a stellar medical career.

  But then came reality.

  She’d run out of the dissection lab on a sunny April afternoon and showered until the water ran cold in her apartment. Then she’d waited an hour for the water heater to warm up the tank, and she’d done it again. She’d been dreading dissection since day one, but had somehow managed to power through … until the day they were supposed to work on hands.

  As she’d stared down at the table, she hadn’t been able to begin. While other body parts were just—parts, this wasn’t. All she’d been able to think about was all of the projects these particular hands had done, the little heads they had comforted, the other hands they’d held.

  And she just—hadn’t been able to continue.

  It had taken her a full week to tell her father she was dropping out, and she wasn’t sure if he’d recovered even yet. Even though she was in the medical field like him, she wasn’t a doctor, and to him, it just wasn’t the same.

  Getting her MBA hadn’t quite impressed him, either, though she’d earned top scores and numerous academic awards. Dad just thought the degree was a waste of a good brain—one he’d been cultivating since she was born, in his mind. He’d never actually spoken those words, but she could just tell.

  Because with her failure, his dreams of a Dr. Blair Junior had died not once, but twice.

  * * *

  “You going home tonight, doc?” Millie poked her head into Joshua’s office later that afternoon.

  Josh pinched the bridge of his nose as he looked at the clock. Shit. It wasn’t afternoon anymore. “Just waiting for Ian to get back from surgery.”

  “It’s seven o’clock.”

  “I know. It’s been—a day. And you’re still here, too, so no harassing me about my hours.”
/>   “He’ll be okay, Josh.”

  “I know.” He sighed. “Something doesn’t sit right on this one, Millie. I want good eyes on that room tonight.”

  “Already handled. I’ve got Steph on him tonight. Ten-minute checks.”

  Josh nodded. Steph was the best nurse on the evening shift.

  “You need to go home, Josh. I can have her update you later, if that’ll let you feel easier about leaving.”

  “Ian’s only part of my worries right now.”

  She sat down heavily. “Delaney?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Heck of an introduction to the floor.”

  Josh pictured Delaney earlier, looking like she was ready to collapse, but not wanting to admit it. Seeing her pale face and trembling fingers had triggered his protective instincts like nothing ever had before, and he still hadn’t quite figured out why. Yes, his medical training had compelled him to get her head between her knees before she went down like a lead brick, but that wasn’t what had kept his hand on her smooth neck—or kept his fingers stroking her silky hair.

  As she’d sat there quivering, he’d been struck with guilt. It had been his idea to have her observe on the floor—his deal, in reality. And then she’d found herself in the middle of a big fat emergency, and it was his fault. She’d done her best—and he was pretty impressed that she’d held her shit together as well as she had—but it was clear to everyone that she was way out of her league down here.

  He’d been completely out of line to guilt her into it.

  Millie raised her eyebrows. “You think she’ll be back?”

  “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Wouldn’t blame her if she decided today was enough.”

  “Well, if she does come back, we need to get that girl some basic training. If she’s going to be here, she needs to know what to do if something like this happens again.”

  “She was doing her best, Millie.”

  “I know, and we’re lucky she’s got a level head on her shoulders. But you and I both saw her face afterward. Next time, we might not be so lucky.”

  “Agreed.”

  “First thing I’m going to teach her is how to call for help.”