by Gina Wilkins
“I said most of it,” she returned wryly. “I’m going to spend another hour or two looking over anything we might have missed.”
“Don’t you have an early class in the morning? You should get some sleep.”
“I will. After I’ve looked over these notes. Feel free to turn in whenever you get tired. I’ll try not to disturb you when I come to bed.”
“But, Annie, you need—”
She shot him a look that silenced him midsentence. “I need to study. I’ll turn in when I’m finished.”
Though disapproval was evident in his expression, he held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Fine. Do what you want. I’m going to watch some TV, then turn in.”
She could tell he was a little annoyed with her for not listening to his advice, just as she was with him for trying to pressure her into doing so.
Arranging her study materials on the dining table, she bit her lip, wondering if she and Liam would even be able to survive a full week of living together. They had already quarreled twice today alone. That certainly didn’t bode well for the state of their future marriage.
The noise of the vacuum cleaner Liam pushed across the bedroom carpet drowned out any other sounds in the apartment. He had only a couple of feet left to sweep and he’d be finished cleaning. The scents of lemon furniture polish and antiseptic cleaners filled the air, a fresh aroma that made him think of his grandmother’s Saturday-morning cleaning routine.
He’d scrubbed every surface in the kitchen and bathroom, mopped the kitchen and bathroom floors, dusted everything in the apartment and vacuumed every inch of the bland beige apartment-grade carpet in the living room and bedroom. It was almost four, and he’d been cleaning most of the day.
Running the vacuum cleaner over the last square of carpet, he flipped the switch to cut the power. The silence was immediate and quite a relief.
“Looks like you’ve been busy.”
Turning, he saw Anne standing in the open bedroom doorway, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the jamb and watched him.
Pushing his glasses up on his nose, he greeted her with a smile. Though she’d been in classes all day, after little sleep the night before, she still looked fresh and appealing in her crisp white blouse and dark jeans, her hair pulled back in a loose braid. He’d hoped to have time to freshen up before she came home. The gray T-shirt and faded jeans he wore with white socks were rumpled from his day’s activities, and there was a smudge of grease on his shirt from when he’d cleaned the stove.
“I got restless sitting in front of the computer,” he explained. “I thought a little physical labor would get my mind in gear. Besides, I know you don’t have time for this sort of thing right now.”
She kept her apartment tidy—mostly, she’d told him, because she didn’t like coming home to a mess—but he knew it had been a few weeks since she’d had time to really scrub the place top to bottom. Now she’d been given a reprieve from trying to schedule that chore. It felt good to do something to ease her load at this stressful time.
She pushed away from the doorjamb. “How did you do on your writing today?”
He shrugged as he wrapped the power cord around the hooks on the side of the vacuum cleaner. “I worked some this morning.”
He supposed the nonanswer was an answer in itself. She could probably tell from his tone that he hadn’t accomplished anything.
He had no idea why he was having so much trouble diving into this project. It wasn’t like him to procrastinate when there was a job to be done. It was certainly out of character for him to be so full of doubt about his ability to competently complete the task. Lack of confidence wasn’t really a problem for him; so what was this? He’d spent a lot of hours stewing about that today, and he still hadn’t come up with an answer—nor accomplished any more on his revisions.
Seeming to sense his concerns, Anne asked, “Are you sure you don’t want me to help you in some way? At least let me read the revision letter.”
Liam waved a hand dismissively in the air. “I’ve got it covered. If I’m still having trouble with it in a couple of days, I’ll call my editor and ask for some advice.”
“But, Liam, I—”
Someone rang her doorbell three times in quick succession.
Anne and Liam froze.
“I’ll stay in here,” he said, waving at her to go answer the door. “I won’t make a sound.”
Nodding grimly, she turned and closed the door behind her. He hoped he wouldn’t be trapped in here for long. He could really use a cold drink.
Silently, he sank to the side of the neatly made bed, making himself as comfortable as possible. This really was getting ridiculous, he thought a bit glumly.
He’d never expected to spend his marriage hiding behind doors.
Anne heard a child crying before she even reached her door. Puzzled, she looked through the peephole, then pulled the door open. She didn’t know the young woman standing on her doorstep holding a screaming toddler, but she’d seen them before. The duo had moved into an apartment downstairs only a few weeks earlier. “May I help you with something?”
Speaking over the child’s wailing, the woman—who couldn’t be much more than twenty—asked a bit frantically, “You’re a doctor, aren’t you? I’ve seen you wearing your white coat with the stethoscope in your pocket.”
“I’m a second-year medical student. What’s wrong?”
Her dark eyes filled with tears, the slightly chubby brunette caught her child’s flailing hand and held it toward Anne. “I’m Rose Duggar, and this is my son, Parker. He rubbed his hand over an old chest in my bedroom and he got a splinter under his fingernail. He says it really hurts. Can you look at it?”
“I’m sorry, but I really shouldn’t. As I said, I’m not a doctor, just a medical student.” For many reasons, primarily liability concerns, medical students were discouraged from practicing medicine without supervision. Anne was particularly reluctant to take that risk with a child she didn’t even know. “Do you have a family doctor or clinic you can take him to?”
A fat tear escaped Rose’s left eye, trickling pitifully down her pale cheek. “I just started a new job and my insurance coverage isn’t effective until next week. I’m a single mom. I can’t afford a medical bill.”
The young woman looked as though she were going to sit on the step and wail with her child.
Anne sighed. She’d removed a few splinters in her time. Her friends in college had always come to her with their minor injuries because she’d been a premed major, her dad was a surgeon and she had a way of staying calm when others were freaking out. The latter reason had been more valid than the former two; she’d never quite convinced her friends that being a doctor’s daughter did not make one qualified to practice medicine. Neither did being a second-year medical student, she thought, but she figured she could offer her assistance as a good neighbor, rather than a doctor.
“I’m Anne Easton,” she said. “Please, come in, and we’ll see if we can deal with this together. If it’s only a splinter, it shouldn’t be too serious.”
“Thank you,” Rose breathed, stepping quickly over the threshold with her son.
Parker screamed even louder when Anne tried to catch his little hand so she could see if there was anything she could do to help him.
She spoke in a soothing voice to him, “I’m just going to look at it, sweetie, okay? Will you let me see your hand?”
Only somewhat lulled by her tone, he drew a shuddering breath, fully prepared to shriek again at a moment’s notice. His mother patted his back, her own expression heartened. “Let the doctor see your hand, okay, baby? Just let her look.”
“I’m not a doctor,” Anne muttered in despair. “I’m just a medical student.”
The distinction seemed meaningless to Rose. She continued to gaze hopefully at Anne.
Vowing to herself that she would pay for the medical bill herself if the child needed emergency care, Anne carefully spread t
he little fingers and searched for the injury. She found it quickly enough. She was relieved to see that his mother had been right. It was just a splinter. It was a good-size sliver, but only partially buried in the tender skin. It would be easy enough to catch hold of the end with tweezers and pull the splinter out.
“Oh, it’s not so bad. Why don’t I get a pair of tweezers and then I can hold him while you pull it out,” she suggested to Rose.
The younger woman’s pale face bleached even more, with a slightly green cast to her cheeks. “I couldn’t. I’d faint. I always faint with things like this.”
“Okay, then you should sit down now.” Alarmed by her lack of color, Anne ushered Rose to the couch, almost pushing her down to the cushions. If she was going to raise a little boy on her own, Rose was going to have to grow a thicker skin when it came to bumps and bruises and minor cuts—and splinters.
Making a sudden decision, Anne hurried to the bedroom door. Parker had started to cry again, not as loudly as before, but sounding tired and stressed. Probably he was picking up some of his mother’s panic.
Anne opened the door and peeked in. “Could you help me out here, please?”
Looking a little surprised, Liam nodded and stood, moving quickly toward her. “What’s the problem?”
She filled him in quickly, then turned to her neighbors. “Rose, this is my friend—”
“Lee,” Liam cut in quickly, walking toward the couch. “Just call me Lee. And who is this fine-looking young man?”
“Parker,” Rose replied shyly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know Dr. Easton had company.”
“I’m not a doctor. I’m a medical student.” Anne spoke a bit more forcefully this time, feeling compelled to make sure her neighbor understood that.
Liam knelt in front of Parker. “Hey, sport.”
The toddler caught a sobbing breath, looking at Liam with wary interest.
“What’s going on?”
“He has a splinter in his finger,” his mother explained, her gaze flickering from Anne to Liam. “I’d take it out, myself, but I’m not good with blood. I thought maybe Dr. Easton would help me.”
“Is it okay if I look?” Liam asked Parker even as he took the little hand in his own bigger paw. “Oh, that’s not so bad. I could pull it out right now if my fingers weren’t so big. Anne’s not a doctor yet, but I’d bet she’s got a pair of tweezers, don’t you, Annie?”
“Of course. I’ll be right back.”
Leaving Liam to entertain the duo, she hurried into her bathroom for tweezers and an antibacterial ointment.
Chapter Five
Anne cleaned the tweezers thoroughly, then dipped them in a povidone-iodine solution to sterilize them. After scrubbing her hands, she carried the tweezers and ointment into the other room.
She was amazed to find both Rose and Parker smiling at some silliness Liam carried on with the child. It never ceased to amaze her how easily Liam could set people at ease, but she’d never seen him interact with a toddler before. He seemed to be pretty good at it.
At least Rose didn’t appear to recognize Liam. Maybe it was the difference in his appearance, with the short haircut and the glasses, or maybe she just didn’t watch cable travel programming. Whatever the reason, Anne was relieved. She assumed Liam was, too, since he’d been careful to introduce himself with a shortened version of his name.
Parker looked as though he were going to cry again when Anne knelt in front of him with the tweezers, but Liam quickly distracted him by standing behind her and making funny faces. Rose watched Liam, too, rather than Anne—probably so she wouldn’t get light-headed when Anne extracted the splinter.
Anne was pleased when the tiny sliver slid right out from beneath the little fingernail. She waited until Parker was in midlaugh at Liam’s antics, and the child barely twitched when she quickly extracted the splinter. She cleaned his fingertip with an alcohol pad, dabbed on a bit of antiseptic ointment, then sat back in satisfaction. “There. All gone. Does that feel better, Parker?”
Parker looked at his finger, then held it up to show Liam. “All gone,” he parroted.
“Why, yes, it is. Good job, Almost-Doctor Easton.” He patted Anne’s shoulder teasingly as she straightened. She gave him a look.
Rose stood, too, balancing her son on one rounded hip. “Thank you so much, Dr.—”
“Please call me Anne.”
“Thank you, Anne. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here. An emergency room visit would have been so expensive for such a minor thing, but I didn’t want to leave it in there and let it get infected, and besides, it was hurting him.”
“It was nothing, really,” Anne assured her. “I’m sure you could have handled it yourself.”
Rose drew a shaky breath. “I guess I would have tried, if you hadn’t been home. I’m working on getting better at that sort of thing. My boyfriend used to take care of stuff like that, but we split up and he left town a couple of months ago. He’s real good to send me child support money, so I can pay my rent, but it’s still not easy being a single mom, you know? At least I’ve got real good child care for when I’m working. My aunt watches Parker for free because she’s crazy about him.”
It was a lot of personal information in one artless outburst. Anne merely blinked and nodded, wondering if Rose was always so forthcoming or if her image of Anne as a doctor made her so confiding. “I don’t think Parker’s finger will get infected. The splinter was in for such a short time and the whole area looks clean, but you might keep an eye on it for a day or two. Watch for pus or redness or swelling.”
That wasn’t medical advice, she assured herself—just common sense. It still made her nervous to treat a child without a license, even under these seemingly innocuous circumstances. At least she had Liam to verify that she’d made it very clear—repeatedly—that she was not a doctor.
“I have to go,” Rose said, moving toward the door. “Parker and I are having dinner with my friend Vicky and her little boy, Jeremy. He’s just six months older than Parker. We’re having pizza. Parker loves pizza. I do, too, especially with extra cheese and pepperoni. Can I pay you for what you did for us, D—um, Anne? I can pay a little, just not as much as an emergency room visit would have cost.”
“Absolutely not.” Anne saw them to the door. “I enjoyed meeting you, Rose. And you, too, Parker,” she added, tickling the little boy’s chin and making him giggle.
“Thank you again. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, please let me know. Nice to meet you, Lee.”
“You, too, Rose. Bye-bye, Parker.”
Parker waved his now splinter-free hand in Liam’s direction. “Bye-bye.”
Anne sagged against the door when she closed it behind her downstairs neighbor. “Whew,” she said heartily. “That was an experience.”
Liam laughed. “I’d say so. I was surprised when you called me out of the bedroom.”
“I was afraid Rose was going to faint and the baby was going to keep screaming,” she admitted. “I didn’t think I could handle that by myself. Thanks for entertaining them both while I took care of the splinter.”
“No problem. And no harm was done, since she hadn’t a clue who I am.”
He dropped into a chair. “Maybe you should suggest to Rose that she take some first aid classes. I mean, if she freaks out like that over a splinter, what’s she going to do when Parker comes in with a busted head or a broken bone? Little boys are prone to that sort of thing, you know.”
“So are little girls,” Anne answered with a smile, fingering a thin, almost invisible scar beneath her chin. She had fallen off her bicycle when she was nine and then had run into her mother’s immaculate house screeching and dripping blood.
Following her motion, he grinned and nodded. “Oh, yes, I remember you telling me about that. Children and accidents just seem to be connected, don’t they?”
“I’m afraid so. If I see Rose again, maybe I will suggest first aid classes. It’s a good idea fo
r anyone, especially a single mom.”
“You’ll be a great mom yourself someday,” Liam said, his tone ultracasual. “You were very good with Parker. It’s easy to tell you like kids. And you’ll have your medical training to fall back on if they should get into a scrape.”
She swallowed hard. This conversation reminded her of the recent talk with her mother about a pregnant friend and the direction her thoughts had taken afterward. She summarized those conclusions again for Liam. “It will be years yet before I’m in a position to even consider the possibility.”
“Oh, I know. It’s not like either of us is in a hurry, with you in school and me traveling the globe. But I don’t know. Maybe someday?”
Keeping her eyes on her plate, she shrugged. “Sure. Someday. Maybe. Gosh, I’d better hurry. It’s almost time to leave for my study session.”
Liam let her get away with the change of subject. “I guess I’ll work on my revisions this evening while you’re gone. Maybe do a couple loads of laundry.”
“You don’t have to keep doing the housework,” she chided.
He shrugged. “Gives me something to do while I’m sitting here, trying to be creative. I’m not used to being in one place for very long.”
Which probably translated as he was already getting restless after being here less than a week, Anne thought glumly. She supposed she couldn’t blame him. For a man accustomed to a frantic schedule, constant traveling and lots of interaction with other people, sitting alone in her apartment for hours had to be incredibly boring. The high point of his day had probably been making faces at a crying toddler.
Had he anticipated solitary confinement when he’d chosen to stay here?
The study group seemed to enjoy the tale of the splinter later that evening. Anne gave them all the amusing details, though she carefully left out any reference to Liam. All the others confirmed that they, too, had already been consulted for medical advice by friends and family who’d learned that they were medical students.
“They have no idea how little we’ve actually learned about dealing with patients,” Haley groaned, looking at her stack of books and papers. “If they only knew that all we do is sit in class all day and try to memorize massive amounts of information that we’ll probably never remember after the tests are over.”
