A White Knight in ER

by Jessica Matthews

  She gasped and slumped in the chair across from his desk. A positive HIV. A mental picture of the AIDS patients who’d visited the ER formed and she clenched her hands. Would she end up like them? It was too horrific a prospect to consider. She had parents who needed her, two children who couldn’t lose another care-giver.

  Jonas crouched beside her and covered her cold hands with his. The warmth he exuded did nothing to dispel the chill that had pierced her down to her marrow.

  ‘The lab tech repeated the procedure and the results were plus-minus. Rather than run it a third time, the staff is going to send the sample to their reference lab for a Western blot, which is a more definitive test. Like I explained to Carl and Rae, this was only a screen and false positives aren’t uncommon.’

  He continued without stopping. ‘The good news is that Carl’s girlfriend is asymptomatic. Apparently, an earlier partner of hers has tested positive and that’s why she went to the health department. With Carl’s results being questionable, if he has the virus or, more accurately, the retrovirus, he has it in very low numbers.’

  ‘Isn’t that like saying a woman is only a “little bit pregnant”?’

  ‘Perhaps, but to be on the safe side, I’m going to recommend you start the post-exposure prophylaxis immediately.’

  Megan raised her eyebrow. ‘Refresh my memory, please. What will that involve?’

  ‘We’ll use a combination of two drugs that currently inhibit or inactivate the HIV virus. If Carl’s Western blot is negative, we can stop the therapy. If it isn’t, we’ll want to run more tests on him, especially his CD4+ T-cell counts.

  ‘As you know,’ he continued, ‘HIV destroys those particular CD4+ lymphocytes, so the numbers present indicate the degree of infection. The lower the number, the worse the prognosis. I’m guessing that even if Carl is positive, his T-lymphocyte count is still good.’

  ‘I understand,’ she said, glad that he’d given the simplified version. ‘And if I choose not to take the medications?’

  ‘You’re stacking the odds against yourself and I don’t think you’ll want to do that.’

  ‘No.’ Although she knew the PEP caused a lot of side effects, namely nausea and diarrhea, she couldn’t afford the risk of not proceeding.

  As if he knew what she’d decided, he explained further. ‘Once we get all the results, we can re-evaluate your treatment. The drugs are toxic so, if you end up taking them for the full four weeks, we’ll run a blood count and check out your renal and liver function in two weeks. The lab can run your baseline studies with the sample they already have, so you won’t need to get stuck again.’

  ‘Now, there’s a bright spot in my day,’ she said, tongue in cheek.

  He grinned. ‘I’m doing the best I can.’ His mood sobered. ‘And, finally, we’ll do follow-up HIV tests at six and twelve weeks, and again at six months.’

  ‘I could quote the protocol backwards and forwards, but now that it pertains to me, I can’t think straight.’ She forced a chuckle and finger-combed the hair off her forehead. ‘Silly me.’

  ‘It’s not silly. Your reaction is perfectly normal. With the circumstances what they are, I still believe your chances of contracting anything serious are very slim.’

  Megan looked into his eyes. ‘But you can’t give me a guarantee, can you?’

  Jonas’s gaze remained steady, but she read the apology in those dark depths. ‘No, I can’t.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  JONAS squeezed Megan’s left hand. ‘I wish I could.’

  For a moment, she didn’t answer, but drew strength from his presence and firm grip. ‘When do I start?’

  ‘I’ll call the pharmacy and as soon as they deliver the meds, I want you to take them immediately. Understood?’

  She met his gaze and nodded. He squeezed her hand a final time as if satisfied that she would carry out his orders without question, then straightened.

  ‘If you show any side effects, I can prescribe whatever you need to keep those under control. As you know, we’re assuming Carl is HIV positive, so you must avoid any possible secondary transmissions,’ he added. ‘That means no donating blood or plasma at the next Red Cross blood drive or any time during the next six months.’

  ‘I won’t.’ She certainly didn’t want to put anyone else through this nightmare.

  ‘And practice safe sex. Better yet, abstain.’

  She felt herself warm under his admonition. Having this discussion with a man who could turn any woman’s thoughts in that direction was, quite frankly, unsettling. For a moment she thought of what Dwight would say, then realized it didn’t matter. He wasn’t a part of her life any more.

  The pain of his rejection seared her heart and she hid it behind her temper. ‘I’m surprised you’re bothering to tell me that.’

  He frowned, clearly puzzled. ‘Excuse me? I wouldn’t be counseling you properly if I didn’t mention it.’

  Megan held up her free hand to display her bare finger. ‘You don’t need to worry if I’ll spread anything to anyone. I’m un-engaged, remember?’

  He shifted his weight. ‘Look, Megan. About that. I’m really—’

  She held up both hands like a traffic cop. ‘Sorry,’ she finished for him. ‘Yes, I know. The fact remains that if not for you, I wouldn’t be facing this alone.’

  ‘I’m sure Dwight would—’

  ‘Dwight lost the privilege of knowing anything about my private life. Don’t you dare say a word to him—I don’t care how good your friendship with him is.’

  ‘I won’t, but Dwight and I hardly know each other.’

  ‘Oh, really. Could have fooled me.’

  ‘Let me explain,’ he began.

  ‘You gave Dwight advice that he took to heart, and now he’s out of my life. You should be pleased that you saved a fellow male from the noose of matrimony. No doubt, you painted a great picture of life in the fast lane, without anything or anyone tying you down, and he loved it. What’s to explain?’

  ‘That’s not how it happened. He asked for my opinion.’

  ‘And you happily gave it, without considering how it would affect three other people.’

  ‘Not true. I was thinking of you.’

  ‘Sorry, but I’m not convinced. Be that as it may, I don’t want to discuss it.’

  He ran one hand over his short hair. ‘Fine,’ he ground out. ‘But getting back to our original subject, there are other people besides Dwight who can give you moral support.’

  She scoffed. ‘My parents have already lost a son. I can’t drop this bombshell on them, nor would I want to.’

  ‘I can understand that, but I was referring to myself.’

  ‘You?’ She couldn’t believe him.

  ‘Why not? I have broad shoulders.’

  Without a conscious effort on her part, Megan’s gaze traveled over his torso. He was right. Not only were his shoulders wide, but they looked rock-solid. The idea of leaning on him was tempting, but she couldn’t afford to use him as a crutch. However well meant his offer, Jonas’s support would never be anything more than temporary and she needed something more permanent to hang onto.

  And although she was being petty and illogical, he was still too closely linked with Dwight in her mind. She couldn’t possibly be more than a professional acquaintance.

  She rose with as much dignity as she could summon. ‘Thanks, but I’ll manage. Now, if you don’t have anything to add, I’d better get back to work.’

  He hesitated, almost as if he wanted to say something else, then didn’t. ‘OK.’

  Megan threw herself into her duties. She told herself repeatedly, whenever her thoughts strayed onto the ‘what-if’ topic, that worry wouldn’t help. She had to rest in the knowledge that she was doing everything medically possible to prevent an unfavorable outcome, otherwise she’d drive herself to drink, as Carl obviously had.

  Her bigger concern at the moment was how she would tell her parents about her broken engagement. If she shared Dwight’s reasons
, it would make her mother feel guilty over not being able to care for Angela and Trevor. She had enough problems on her plate without Megan adding one more.

  The youngsters would be the easiest to tell, she decided as she exchanged her scrub suit for a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved yellow knit turtleneck at the end of her shift. Neither one would look at her with pity or ask the penetrating questions that others would. Also, neither had grown close to Dwight, and under the circumstances it was probably a good thing. They wouldn’t be traumatized when he disappeared out of their lives.

  She slammed her locker door shut and hurriedly marked her daily appointment book with the schedule Jonas had given her. At two and four weeks from today, a blood test to determine how her body was handling the toxic drugs. She counted out six weeks from today and found herself unable to write down HIV, so she put a huge X in the box instead. She repeated the process for twelve weeks, noticing that the six-month mark would be in October.

  After updating her calendar to her satisfaction, she grabbed her purse and hurried to the exit. Working late had saved her from the usual locker-room small-talk and the inevitable rehash of the day’s events. The hospital grapevine would spread the news about her broken engagement soon enough.

  Her path to the department exit led past the nurses’ station and fortunately only the afternoon shift ward clerk was there. As soon as Karen saw her, she waved at her and extended the phone. ‘I’m glad I caught you,’ she said. ‘It’s your mom.’

  Megan placed her daily appointment book on the counter and grabbed the receiver.

  ‘Hi, honey,’ her mother, Nancy, said cheerfully. ‘I’m glad I caught you. I wanted to tell you that your dad and I have decided to go to the park concert tonight since it’s been such a beautiful day. Why don’t you, Dwight and the kids come along? We can go out for ice cream afterwards.’

  Megan pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘I’m not sure about tonight,’ she prevaricated. ‘I’ve got a lot of things to do around the house.’ Packing the odds and ends Dwight had left over the past year would keep her busy for several hours. Part of her was tempted to toss everything, including his hand-carved chess set, in the trash, but being vindictive would only show him how much he’d hurt her.

  She had her pride.

  ‘All right, dear, but if you should change your mind, call me before seven.’

  ‘I will, Mom. Thanks for the invitation.’

  She replaced the receiver, fighting an overwhelming sense of loss. Things would work out, she told herself. Her future might turn out far differently than she’d dreamed or even planned, but her life was bound to get better.

  Just as soon as it stopped getting worse.

  At six-thirty, after he’d turned over his duties to his replacement, Jonas stopped at the counter surrounding the nurses’ desk and picked up a fat, pocket-sized appointment book. ‘What’s this?’

  Karen looked up from the stack of papers in front of her. ‘Megan left that. I thought she’d be back to pick it up by now. I’m guessing she doesn’t realize it’s here.’

  ‘Probably not.’ Considering the stress Megan had undergone today, forgetting her private appointment book wasn’t surprising. ‘I’m leaving myself,’ he admitted. ‘I can take it to her.’

  ‘If she’s as lost without hers as I am without mine, I’m sure she’d appreciate it if you did.’

  Jonas wasn’t as certain. Megan had rejected his overture of friendship but, then, who could blame her? Dwight would probably have summoned the nerve to have his heart-to-heart talk without Jonas advising him to do so, but Jonas’s urging had changed the timetable. If Megan hadn’t been so distraught over that, she might have been more alert when she was with Carl Walker. Oh, she’d deny any relationship between the two, but he was convinced the two incidents were related.

  The stunned look on her face after she’d left the lounge had twisted the knife of guilt that had stabbed his chest. Then, when he’d seen the needle sticking in her palm, his protective instincts had grown by leaps and bounds and without any conscious effort on his part. After living his life by keeping everyone at a friendly distance, this new development was disturbing. For a man who didn’t want any responsibility other than what came with his profession, he’d certainly contracted a huge case of it where Megan was concerned.

  Lord knew, she’d tied him in knots this afternoon. Normally, he didn’t care what people thought of him, but it seemed imperative that he explain how he’d only been looking out for everyone’s best interests. Time would gradually show her that his advice had been appropriate for their situation, but his days in Stanton were limited and whether or not she realized it while he was still here was anyone’s guess. He certainly didn’t want to spend the next three months tiptoeing through a minefield in the ER. The department had enough tension without the staff adding more.

  And now he’d been granted a golden opportunity to stitch the rip in their working relationship.

  ‘Where does she live?’ he asked.

  ‘Over on MacArthur.’ Patty dug out the phone book and looked up the listing. ‘Fourteen hundred. That’ll be easy to find. It’s north of the elementary school, between Patton and Marshall.’

  ‘Someone must have been a fan of military generals when they named the streets. I suppose Eisenhower is part of the same subdivision.’

  Patty chuckled. ‘Actually, he’s in the row of presidential streets. Don’t worry, it won’t take long until you can find your way around like a native.’

  Having lived in more cities around the world than he could count, Jonas had already started to learn the town’s layout. He could find his way to the nearest grocery store, the movie theatre and the row of fast-food restaurants common to all of them. This weekend he’d check out the local golf courses. Residential addresses would come later, and he usually only paid attention to those where his current date lived.

  For now, as long as he remembered the way to his place, he was fine. A mere two blocks from the hospital, the two-bedroom house that he temporarily called home stood in a quiet, elderly residential area and now, with this latest spell of warm weather, he walked home.

  A dog slunk between his property and neighbors’, only to stop in its tracks to gaze soulfully at him. Its dingy yellow coat was in need of a bath and a brushing, and its ribs were painfully evident. In spite of all that, Jonas could tell this had once been a beautiful golden retriever.

  He’d always wanted a dog, but an animal had never fit into his family’s lifestyle of moving from military base to military base. He’d toyed with the idea of getting a pet when he’d been in med school, but his schedule simply hadn’t permitted it. He’d hardly had a minute to call his own during his internship and residency and several of his colleagues who’d been in the same boat had accepted the inevitable and given theirs away.

  His life now wasn’t much more conducive to taking on the added responsibility. Twelve-hour shifts five days a week meant that a dog would be on its own for most of its waking moments, which was a rotten way to treat man’s best friend. Moving around the country like he did, he never knew if he’d have living quarters that could accommodate more than a goldfish, so he’d never given pet ownership a second thought.

  This animal, with its large, pleading eyes and half-starved appearance only emphasized what he already knew. Pets were a responsibility and if its owner couldn’t or wouldn’t shoulder that responsibility, he or she didn’t deserve them.

  On the other hand, perhaps this one had simply become lost and needed help to find its way home.

  ‘Hi, girl,’ he said to the animal, but it stood there, looking wary and pitiful at the same time.

  Jonas unlocked the front door and cast a final glance at it before he went inside. The retriever stood unmoving, as if waiting for Jonas to either chase it away or give it the food and water it desperately needed.

  Certain it would leave once he was out of sight, Jonas closed the door and watched the retriever through the window. To his surp
rise, the creature simply sank onto the concrete driveway. With its head resting on its front paws, the dog appeared too weak to continue its search for someone who would care about its sorry state.

  Knowing that he couldn’t ignore the animal’s misery and feel true to his Hippocratic oath, he filled a bowl with water. Taking the container and the leftover macaroni casserole he’d intended to eat for dinner outside, he set his offerings on the driveway in a shady spot near the bottom porch step.

  ‘Here, girl,’ he coaxed.

  The retriever raised its head and stared at Jonas as if trying to determine if this was a trick. ‘Come on,’ he encouraged again. ‘It’s nothing fancy, but it’s filling.’

  The dog staggered to its feet and tentatively made its way toward the food.

  ‘Go on. Eat. I won’t hurt you.’

  The animal hesitated, clearly weighing the risk of being mistreated versus missing another meal. As if he sensed Jonas’s sincerity, the dog gave him one last cautious glance before it devoured the food and drank nearly all of the water. By the time it had licked the bowls clean and dry, its tail had started to wag.

  As far as Jonas could tell, the retriever didn’t have a collar. So much for trying to locate its owner.

  ‘That’s all I have,’ he told the animal after it had backed away to watch his next move. ‘Unless you want ice cream, and I don’t think it’s good for you.’

  The retriever didn’t seem concerned over his lack of dessert. Instead, it lay next to the house, in the shade under the eaves.

  ‘This isn’t your home,’ he told the dog, but the animal made no attempt to move. After seeing how thirsty the poor thing had been, Jonas refilled the water bowl from the outside spigot.

  ‘You’re on your own, girl,’ he told the animal before he went inside to change into jeans and his lucky golf T-shirt. When he returned to slide behind the wheel of his sporty blue convertible, he found the dog in the same place as he’d left it.

  Hoping the retriever would move on once it realized that no one was home, he drove away. His stomach rumbled and he realized that he was going to interrupt what could be Megan’s dinner hour. If he’d planned this, he could have taken her to try out one of those restaurants she’d recommended, but he hadn’t. With two kids in tow, that wouldn’t have been a good spur-of-the-moment idea. Maybe next time, he thought as he detoured to the street known as Fast-Food Row. Maybe next time.