Just A Little Romance

by Mary Jane Russell

  Lisa hesitated. “Okay, who do you have a date with that you’re pre-planning ER time for?”

  Sam laughed. “No date. I’ve sworn off that for a while. I’m running out later to pick up supper. I don’t have the talent some people do with a stove.”

  “Flatterer. I’m almost at the elevator. Come up to four on the same side of building as the ER. I’ll let the front desk know that I’m expecting you. I can use my dinner break, but I’ll only have a moment. My work isn’t as flexible as yours. Seriously, if it looks busy, hold off and I’ll stop at your office later this week.”

  “Understand. See you,” Sam said.

  The signal dropped.

  The manual was a beginning entrepreneur’s equivalent of the Bible. It was a pretense Lisa was too busy to see through. The truth was that Sam just wanted to see Lisa even if only for a few minutes as she handed her the book. It would also mean that she would see Lisa again when the book was returned. Working out details for the lease proposal on the commercial kitchen had given Sam the excuse of several phone calls. Sam could manage on just a little of Lisa’s time. She simply couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  Sam entered the ER and went directly for the desk in the middle of the room that provided initial screening. “Samantha Moyer. I’ve an appointment with Lisa Ramey.” Sam moved aside as the next patient approached.

  The woman confirmed Sam by telephone. She pointed at Sam, then at the double doors behind her. She buzzed Sam through.

  Sam walked along the corridor, looking for Lisa either in front of her or along the duplicate hallway on the far side of the room. The very center was a hub enclosed by waist-high counters for the doctors and nurses.

  “Ma’am.”

  Sam looked at the nurse seated at a workstation on the other side of the counter. “Lisa asked if you’d wait. She was just called in.” Sam followed the gesture toward the chairs along the short length of solid wall joining patient cubes. Sam sat on a standard issue, uncomfortably formed plastic chair. She didn’t know whose body the chairs were shaped for, but it certainly wasn’t hers. She wasn’t about to wander anywhere she wasn’t supposed to in search of a better chair. She had even placed the book in a brown envelope with Lisa’s name printed on it just in case she had to leave the book with someone else.

  Sam looked across the nurses’ station into a cube off the opposite hallway. She had no choice but to watch the drama unfolding, and it wasn’t good.

  A family stood clustered at the foot of the bed. The bed was shielded by the curtain drawn across the fixed glass next to the opening.

  Nurses hustled in and out of the room. Lisa came out arm in arm with a man in his early sixties. She carefully led him beyond the others’ hearing and leaned close as she talked to him. First the man’s face, then his entire body sagged. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Lisa put her arm around him and ran her hand slowly up and down his back. The man stared blankly at the grown children standing watch around the bed. The rest of the medical team left the cube without the sense of urgency they had entered with. Lisa walked the man inside and took a step back as he spoke to his children. Lisa waited, then left the cube and pulled a curtain across the door. Her pager flashed again and she reached for the small black box around her neck. Sam watched her hustle along the hallway to a farther cube.

  Sam’s gaze was drawn to the closed curtain. Two of the children left, struggling to find the opening in the curtain and holding each other for support. One remained with his father. Fifteen minutes later, the father and son emerged, weeping and looking like mirror images of each other. The hospital chaplain met them and walked them toward a room adjacent to the nurses’ hub.

  Sam continued to watch the room. Ten minutes passed and two orderlies came with a flat cart.

  Sam rapidly blinked her eyes to keep tears at bay, knowing the men’s duty. She stared as the curtain was parted and the cart wheeled away.

  Another nurse opened the curtain, speaking into her pager. Minutes later, the cleaning staff arrived.

  Sam sat rigidly in the chair. That was it. What a life came down to. A last gathering of family if you were lucky. Dignity managed with curtains and coverings. Your body being wheeled away by strangers.

  Sam felt numb. How in the hell did anyone work with this day in and day out? How trivial did it make any other job or any other situation seem? Plus, Lisa had sons she was trying to build relationships with.

  Sam had no doubt that she was the biggest shit on the face of the earth for the way she had been living lately. She jumped when a hand gently touched her shoulder.

  Lisa kept her voice low. “I’m so sorry. It was as though as soon as I asked them to send you back, I had one call right after another.”

  “I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you here. Please forgive me.” Sam stood to leave.

  “Is that the book?” Lisa asked, watching Sam carefully.

  “I’m an idiot. I just wanted to see you.” She handed Lisa the package.

  Lisa looked at Sam’s chair, then approximated her line of sight. “You watched all that?”

  Sam nodded. “I didn’t mean to intrude. It was just in front of me.”

  Lisa checked that units were covered, then guided Sam along the hallway. “You saw the mortuary gurney?”

  Sam nodded.

  “It’s what we deal with every shift,” Lisa said. “The docs won’t tell the family anything. If I see that the next of kin want to know, I tell them what the morphine drip means. We help patients out of this world every day, even though the hospital will never admit it.” She pushed the security doors open for Sam. “They call me the Angel of Death because I have no problem helping someone die when there’s no hope for them.”

  Sam stopped and looked at Lisa. “I hope someone like you is around when it’s my time to leave this earth.”

  Lisa rubbed Sam’s arm. “That’s entirely possible with your recent history. Pick up your dinner and no fast food. Go home and relax. I’ll call you after I look at the book. We can always talk.”

  Sam nodded and walked slowly out of the building and to her car. She was finally thinking about a woman with mostly her head and a little of her heart, and it was all Lisa.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Four days passed, and Sam had not recovered from the evening at the ER. She was subdued enough at work that Tambor and Kelly kept asking her what was wrong. She had talked to Paul only to learn of how many of his friends he had sat with when AIDS attrition was at its worst. Realizing how truly short life was had motivated Paul to decide on a teller’s job that allowed him to write during his off hours—an escalating financial career that consumed all his time and brain power was not his top priority.

  Sam drove slowly and cautiously, not taking for granted her right to the road or allowing distractions of food or telephone. She had to live through the changes she intended to make in her life. She had to improve her record, so to speak, before her time was up.

  She appreciated that Lisa had called her at work Monday simply to check on her. No sermon, no teasing, just a few questions about how Sam was doing. She promised she would call again after she skimmed the manual. Sam was inexplicably grateful for the mere sound of Lisa’s voice. “I’ve got it bad.”

  Sam glanced again in her rearview mirror. She knew she must be paranoid to think she was being followed again, this time by a dark sedan. Maybe the driver of the car staying close on her bumper lived in the same subdivision and was trying to nudge Sam home faster than she intended driving.

  “Okay, this is too weird. I’m not leading Beverly to my house. It must be her again,” Sam said. She pulled into the parking lot, forgetting that Kohl’s was renovating. She wouldn’t be able to zip across the wide aisle directly in front of the buildings to reach the next street that was a shortcut to the back of the subdivision. “Crap, I’m trapped.” She didn’t see the dark car behind her. “Cool.”

  Sam pulled into a parking space next to the cha
in link fence enclosing the construction site. She might as well pick up a few things at Target while she was in the shopping center. She might even walk to Martin’s and pick up something for dinner. She stood with key in hand and stared as the dark car did a quick half turn and stopped, blocking her in the space. “What in the hell?”

  Sam left her door open and watched as KD climbed out of the car. Sam threw up her hands. “Enough already. You’re the butchest of all. Satisfied? Leave me alone.”

  KD grinned with no humor reflected in her eyes. “You sound like you’re the one itching for a fight.”

  “What do you want?” Sam stayed close to the open car door in case she needed to take a dive.

  “I want my life, and my wife, back. Haley and I were fine until you convinced her that she was some kind of victim.” KD’s face was as red as Sam’s hair.

  “You’re so full of bullshit, KD. Haley was a victim. You were abusing her mentally, physically, and financially. Respect the fact that Haley finally had enough and told you so face to face. Hell, the judge gave you the deal of a lifetime—rehab and probation—and you blew it. You know damn well that you can’t pass a drug test.”

  KD looked away. “You just won’t give me a break, will you?”

  “Sure I will,” Sam said. She raised her hands with palms open and stepped away from her car. “No telephone. No cops. Here’s your break. Skip town in your new car. Leave the state. Start over somewhere else. Life is too damn short to keep putting all of us through this. Now move your car. I have errands to do before I go home.” She turned to reach for her wallet.

  Sam didn’t see the attack coming. KD charged, slamming the door to Sam’s car closed and hurling Sam against the chain link fence.

  It took Sam a moment to shake off the wind being knocked out of her. KD closed the distance between them. She grabbed Sam by the front of her shirt and slammed her against the fence again, then copped a cheap feel of Sam’s breasts.

  “I’ll leave when I’ve settled things with you and Kelly,” KD said.

  Sam cringed at KD’s breath and fleetingly wondered how Haley had ever tolerated any intimacy with this woman.

  “Hey!” A man in a white hardhat started down the steps of the construction trailer in the enclosed area. “I don’t know what you chicks are doing, but take it somewhere else or I’m calling the cops.”

  KD released Sam and started to walk away.

  Sam followed, glancing over her shoulder at the contractor. “Sorry, she got carried away with a little friendly bitch slapping.” Sam thought it worth a try to joke her way out of this.

  “Allow me, friend.” KD reached for the door handle to Sam’s car and threw the door open and back on Sam.

  Sam instinctively reached out with her right hand to stop the heavy door from knocking her down. She felt her wrist crack upon impact with the steel panel. Sam dropped to her knees, cradling her wrist to her body. Tears ran down her cheeks as she watched KD drive away.

  “I’m calling 911. Stay there. I’ll come around.” The man was talking and running at the same time. He knelt beside Sam. “Lady, you need to find a better class of friends.”

  Gordon was kind enough to stay with Sam, handing her the briefcase from the car and locking the doors for her. “I’ll keep an eye on your car until you have it picked up.” He stuck his business card in the side pocket of Sam’s briefcase.

  Sam sat on the asphalt and waited for the rescue squad. She knew the drill once the guys arrived of info to be given and vitals to be taken as they loaded her. She watched the familiar route to the hospital through the windows in the back doors of the truck.

  Sam closed her eyes, trying to zone out the jolts of pain that went up her arm with each movement as she was lifted out of the truck and rolled into the ER. The next time she looked, Lisa was standing beside the crew member handing off information.

  Lisa shook her head as she walked over and looked down first at Sam’s hand, then her face. “Yep, I’d say you have a broken wrist.”

  Sam tried to smile. “It didn’t have that kink in it before.” Sam gritted her teeth as Lisa examined her arm. “KD.”

  “I figured as much.” Lisa’s hand rested on Sam’s shoulder. “Hang on. We’ll do a CT scan so we can check for fractures. It makes it easier to see any damage to soft tissue or blood vessels.” Lisa held up one of the green plaid gowns. “I’ll help you change.”

  “Why not,” Sam said. “You’ve already seen me in every other stage of undress.”

  “Honey, I do this all day long.” Lisa was clearly amused. “What’s your pain level, one to ten, one being lowest?”

  “Five, I guess,” Sam said. “It’s not too bad now that I’m distracted from it.”

  A doctor stuck his head in. “Her charms may not do the trick when I do the fracture reduction.” He looked at Lisa and grinned. “I’m thinking muscle relaxant.” He was gone.

  Lisa nodded. “I’m guessing you’re right-handed,” she said as she helped Sam out of her shirt.

  “Of course.” Sam noticed Lisa’s lingering look at her bra.

  Lisa quickly tied the gown around Sam’s neck and unhooked her bra after she was draped.

  “You’re good at that,” Sam said.

  Lisa looked at her innocently. “All I have to do is snap my fingers and the hooks pop right out of the eyes.”

  Sam winced as she slid her arm into the sleeve. “How long does a break like this take to heal?”

  Lisa looked at the angle of the hand disjointed from the wrist. “Several months is only a guess, then you’ll need rehab. Wouldn’t want you to permanently lose any flexibility of that hand.”

  “I’m really awkward with my left,” Sam said apologetically.

  Lisa stepped back. “Ready to drop trou?”

  “You just made one of my recent fantasies come true.” Sam chuckled, trying to think what underwear she had on and deciding it didn’t matter at this point.

  The doctor returned. “You guys are having way too much fun. We have you set up for a CT, then I’ll fix you up.” He looked at Lisa as she reached under Sam’s gown. “Did you tell her about the cast liners that go under the fiberglass so she can do her usual bathing and swimming? Very cool.”

  “No, we hadn’t made it that far,” Lisa said, unzipping Sam’s pants. Sam leaned from side to side as Lisa slid her pants off.

  He gave Sam a thumbs-up and left the cubicle. Another nurse came in with a tiny cup and the promised muscle relaxer.

  “That’s great about being able to shower. I was just thinking about having to do things with one hand,” Sam said. She opened her mouth for the pill as Lisa held a cup of water for her to drink from.

  “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of volunteers to help you.” Lisa folded Sam’s trousers and snapped open a plastic bag to put all her clothes in.

  “My buddy Paul,” Sam said, “has a better eye for dressing me than I ever manage.”

  Lisa shook her head. “What am I going to do with you?”

  Sam was ready with an answer.

  Lisa beat her to it. “How about if I bring dinner to you tomorrow night? I’m doing a run for my customers.”

  “Why are you being so nice to me this time?” Sam asked. “You’ve seen my screw-ups. You’ve seen all of me. There’s no mystery.”

  Lisa helped Sam stretch out on the narrow bed. “How did you get to be our age and still have so much to learn about the basics of romance?”

  Sam was puzzled.

  Lisa leaned over her. “You care, knucklehead, more about your friends than yourself. You keep blundering into this woman who beats the crap out of you every time you try to help your friend. You’d get up right now and launch yourself at KD if Haley needed you to. You back off from Kelly when you realize she and Haley might be a couple. You look out for your buddies Paul and Ava. Hell, you find me the perfect kitchen. If I don’t intend to fulfill your wish about dying around someone like me, I’d better figure out how to keep you out of trouble. I’d like
to try some serious erogenous manipulation of your taste buds. Is there anything you don’t like?”

  “Eating alone,” Sam said. She hoped she wasn’t hallucinating.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  “I’m telling you,” Paul said, eyeing the pile of clothes on the bed, “just go with the sweatpants and polo shirt and be comfortable. That way, you’ll also be more relaxed. She’s not going to expect you to be dressed up. Twelve hours ago, you just were home from the hospital.” He pulled the shirt over Sam’s head.

  “Tylenol with codeine has pretty much taken care of the relaxing part.” Sam looked down at her outfit. “Seriously, these? I’m not six.” She wore navy sweatpants with Eeyore’s face in a paler blue that matched her soft pima shirt. She had slept all day and if not for Paul stopping by to help her dress, suspected she would have slept through the night. She had popped another pill as soon as Paul brought her a glass of water.

  Paul handed her a pair of gray and blue ragg socks. “Perfect. You’ll look cute.”

  Sam made a face.

  Paul corrected himself. “I mean sexy with a childlike vulnerability.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” Sam said before yawning.

  “Tell me again about the erogenous part. I’m using that line the next time I cook for someone, by the way.” Paul began folding the discarded clothes.

  “Use it in your next novel.” Sam sank down into the large gooseneck rocker that had belonged to her parents. The wooden arm was just right to rest her cast upon with her hand holding the goose’s neck. “Uh-oh, this might’ve been a mistake. I forget how comfortable this chair is.” Sam rocked slightly. “What did you ask me?”

  “What’s the menu for tonight?” Paul repeated the question, saying the words very slowly—a habit that usually irritated Sam.

  “I have no idea.” Sam spaced her words out also. She laughed as Paul stopped folding and looked at her.