Chasing the Wind

by Patricia H. Rushford

  Candlelight and the flickering flames in the fireplace made the meal seem like a romantic interlude rather than a nuisance. They feasted on grilled salmon—which, in Anabelle’s opinion, was a little dry but still tasty—baked potatoes and a fresh salad.

  “We should do this more often.” Anabelle took a sip of her drink. “By the way, you did a great job on dinner. Maybe I’ll have to work late more often.”

  “You’d grow tired of my meager menu. I can do grilled chicken, baked potatoes, a salad and I make a mean oatmeal.”

  “You don’t want to admit you can cook,” Anabelle teased. “I know that ploy.”

  “And I know if I spent more time in the kitchen than I already do, you’d be shooing me out.”

  “That’s true enough.” She loved cooking for her family, always had.

  “How’s the good doctor doing?”

  “Better. I stopped to see him just before I came home. Speaking of which, I should call Kirstie and let her know what happened. She’ll want to drop by to see him.”

  “She called earlier and so did Ainslee. Wanted to make sure we knew about the tornado. She sounded upset.”

  “Who, Ainslee or Kirstie?”

  “Ainslee.”

  Anabelle set her glass down. “Did you ask her what was wrong? She was upset yesterday at our quilting meeting too. I hope she’s okay.”

  “Just worried about the storm, I suspect.”

  Anabelle wasn’t so sure.

  When they’d finished dinner, and cleared off the table, Anabelle rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. She then tried to call her girls on her cell phone. The calls wouldn’t go through. “Do you think they’ll be all right? I wish they were here with us.”

  Cameron was sitting on the couch and patted the space beside him. “They’re fine. They all have basements and know what to do if the tornado does hit.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” She sank onto the sofa and leaned back against him.

  “They’re adults now.” He planted a kiss on her forehead. “Try not to worry.”

  “I do, but telling a mother not to worry is like telling a flea not to bite. Worrying is a mother’s job.”

  He chuckled. “The Bible tells us not to be anxious.”

  She poked him in the stomach. “Don’t be quoting Scripture to me, dear husband. I know the verse by heart. Besides, I’m not anxious. I’m concerned.”

  “All right then.” He draped his arm around her shoulders. After a while he kissed her forehead. “It’s nice to sit here and relax with my favorite girl.”

  “Very nice.”

  They snuggled on the couch for half an hour as Cameron began to doze off. Anabelle listened to the gentle rhythm of his breathing wondering if this was how nights were spent pre-electricity, before she too drifted off. Cameron eventually stirred. He yawned and gently moved her aside so he could get up. “We might as well go to bed. Doesn’t look like we’ll be getting the power back anytime soon.”

  Anabelle nodded and followed him upstairs.

  Cameron set a flashlight on the bottom step and took the second one upstairs. There was no need for them to take shelter in the basement. Deerford had a top-of-the-line siren system to warn them if the tornado took a turn toward them.

  Cameron seemed to have no trouble falling asleep. Anabelle lay awake listening to the pounding rain and wind as she prayed for Olga, Dr. Hamilton, Kirstie, Ainslee, and everyone else she could think of.

  She finally gave up on sleep and made her way downstairs to her favorite chair. Without air-conditioning, the air felt muggy and warm. She pulled her legs up and leaned back. Like a sentinel, she stayed at the window watching the waving trees in the backyard listening to the ferocity of the rain battering the foliage, praying that the tornado would pass them by. Before long, the rain lessened in intensity and Anabelle sighed. There’d been no tornado siren. It looked as though Deerford had escaped the storm.

  Chapter Eight

  BY TUESDAY MORNING, THE RAIN AND WIND HAD stopped. The electricity was back on, and a very tired Anabelle tried to gear herself up for work. Once dressed, she went into the living room and turned on the morning news broadcast. The tornado had died out and while it had hit the outskirts of Princeton, it had missed Deerford entirely.

  “Thank You, Lord.” Anabelle cast a gaze upward. After eating breakfast, she set her dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on.

  With a cup of coffee under her belt and her devotions for the day buoying her, Anabelle headed for the hospital. On the drive, she cheered the sunshine by singing “Sunshine on My Shoulders.” She loved the sun and hoped one day she and Cameron could winter in a warmer climate. But for now she was content living only minutes away from the kids.

  Hope Haven was abuzz with activity and relief that the tornado had not been as bad as first predicted. Though there had been a number of injuries in Princeton from the storm, there had been no casualties; no one had to be diverted to Hope Haven.

  Anabelle greeted several co-workers on her way in. In the elevator, Seri Mason, the new aide in CCU, heaved a sigh.

  Anabelle took the bait. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t believe he’s asking us to do this.” She waved a yellow paper Anabelle recognized as an official hospital memo.

  “What is it?” Anabelle was surprised to hear the young aide complain to her. Seri was normally sweet and compliant, but she hadn’t forgotten Winona’s comments.

  Seri tossed her head in a rather impudent fashion. Finally, she said, “Albert Varner, our very own CEO, is making it mandatory that all staff brush up on their emergency procedures in case a storm or disaster actually hits Deerford. He must have come unglued last night thinking we might have a bunch of injuries from the tornado.”

  Anabelle smiled at Seri’s dramatic reaction. “Personally, I think he’s made a wise decision. Can I ask why it upsets you?”

  “Are you serious? He wants everyone to attend an in-service session, read a sixty-page instruction manual and watch a video. I don’t have time to do all that. Like, I have a date tonight.”

  Anabelle sighed. “Seri, have you ever had disaster training?”

  “Not exactly. Just the emergency stuff they showed me when I got hired.” She gave Anabelle a sidelong glance. “Guess I need it, huh?”

  “Yes you do. First of all,” Anabelle said, “with the exception of reading the manual, you’ll be watching the video and doing the in-service during your shift. Secondly, you can read the manual during your breaks, at lunch or at home.”

  Anabelle would have invited the girl into the office for a brief chat but today, with all the in-service sessions scheduled, was probably not a good time. She stepped off the elevator and made a beeline for her office where she undoubtedly had a more detailed version of the memo waiting on her desk.

  The memo summoned her and the other supervisors to attend a meeting at 8:00 AM in the conference room to prepare them for the day’s events. If she hurried, she’d have time to get to report; but seeing patients would have to wait until later. During the night, Dillon Blake, the patient Drew had been operating on when he’d had his heart attack, had taken a turn for the worse and required emergency surgery. He’d come through it okay and was still in recovery. Anabelle’s heart felt heavy. Had it been something Drew had done—or not done—that had caused the problem?

  At 7:45 AM, Anabelle started toward the stairs. The conference room was already set up with coffee, tea and pastries. Marge from ICU had already poured herself a cup and set it on the enormous dark oak table. Several of the head nurses and the director, Betty Adams, came in. A few seemed upset by the last-minute disaster plans. Most took it in stride. In-service was all part of being a quality hospital.

  Anabelle snagged a custard-filled donut with chocolate frosting to go with her coffee. Once she’d set her goodies down, Anabelle picked up the folder that had been placed on the table at each chair and thumbed through it. She began jotting down a schedule for the nurses on h
er unit so they could stagger their times and all get the video done prior to the end of their shift.

  Penny Risser, Varner’s executive assistant, came in at exactly eight o’clock pushing a cart loaded with videos, booklets and the like. “Good morning.” Her tone belied the statement, but then Penny wasn’t known for her pleasantries. She’d been given the name Dragon Lady and was well known for guarding the CEO’s office.

  Anabelle doubted it had been a good morning for Penny. Having to pull all of this together must have been a big effort. But perhaps not. Knowing Penny and her propensity for being ultra organized, the job may have only taken twenty minutes.

  Varner had chosen well when he’d hired Penny. She managed him as well as the office, making him look efficient, rather than the scattered disorganized man he was. While Albert Varner had charisma, Penny was often brusque and disapproving, but he didn’t seem to mind. She made him look good, and he couldn’t manage his job without her.

  “Good morning, Penny.” Anabelle stood. “Is there anything we can help you with?”

  “I have it, thanks. How’s that jade plant coming along?”

  Anabelle returned to her seat. “Great, thanks to you.” Anabelle rather liked Penny, or at least one facet of Penny. The woman loved plants and could grow anything. Anabelle had asked her about her jade plant last year, and Penny took it in as if it were a patient. Anabelle didn’t know what she’d done to it, but the plant was flourishing.

  Varner’s office had a number of large plants and hanging baskets thanks to Penny. As far as Anabelle was concerned, anyone who could coax a dying plant back to life couldn’t be all bad.

  Albert didn’t show up at the meeting, maybe he’d never planned to come. But it didn’t matter—Penny did a superb job of making certain everyone knew their responsibilities.

  Each supervisor or charge nurse would hand out the booklets along with a card to sign and hand back in when they had complied with the requirements. The folder they’d been given contained sheets listing times for the in-service and video presentations. The meeting was short and to the point. And, Anabelle thought, well done.

  By the time the meeting ended and she’d returned to the unit, Dillon Blake had been brought down from recovery. While she was tempted to check on him right away, the first task on her agenda was to inform her staff as to what their schedules would be for the next twenty-four hours.

  Thanks to Penny’s efficiency, her scheduling took only fifteen minutes. The phone call to Kirstie, to let her know what had happened to Drew, would add another five. Before dialing the number, Anabelle slipped off her glasses, folded them and tucked them into her upper lab coat pocket.

  “Mom, are you serious?” Distress registered in Kirstie’s voice when Anabelle gave her the news. “Our Dr. Hamilton?”

  “I’m afraid so. I wanted to call you last night, but the storm knocked out the power.”

  “For us too. Thanks for letting me know. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  After saying their good-byes, Anabelle hung up, the word us lingered in her mind like a sour lemon drop. What did she mean by us? Us, as in a couple? Anabelle tried to clear the thought from her mind.

  She posted the instructions for the in-service and told Becky so she could distribute the items to her team and explain the details to the next shift.

  “I’ll make sure everyone knows,” Becky said. “By the way, Dr. Hamilton wants to see you when you have a minute.”

  “How is he?”

  Becky shrugged. “He says he’s ready to go home, but I think he’s in denial.”

  When Anabelle finally made it to his room, Drew was up and sitting in the recliner, reading the paper and drinking coffee.

  “I hope that’s decaf.”

  He lowered the paper. “Good morning, Anabelle. How’s my favorite nurse?” His wide grin made Anabelle think perhaps he was better than expected. He was in excellent health and his heart had been performing well since the incident. She’d have to look over his chart to see what tests he’d had and read Dr. Hildebrand’s notes.

  “You’ll not be buttering me up, Doc.” Anabelle smiled back. “How are you this morning?”

  “I am doing well. I see no reason I can’t go home today and finish these tests as an outpatient. I’m not an invalid. I’m a doctor, and I’m declaring myself fit for discharge.”

  Not that she didn’t trust the good doctor, but she knew he would not allow anything to slow him down if he could help it. “Are you telling me that if you had yourself as a patient, you’d approve a discharge this soon?”

  “I would.”

  She sighed and folded her arms. “The discharge is between you and Dr. Hildebrand. Personally, I think you need to take it easy for a while. Stay here until we’re sure there’s no damage to the heart.”

  “If there is, it’s minor.”

  “And you know this because?”

  “No pain. And the MRI and EKG didn’t show any significant changes.”

  “I’m just saying that you’re an institution here. As far as I’m concerned, you’re one of the best doctors we have.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “That’s kind of you.”

  “It’s true. You’ve saved hundreds of patients. I mean, look what you did with Kirstie.”

  He smiled. “She did all the hard work. I just happened to be there to patch her up.”

  “God brought you to us at the right time.” Anabelle felt her eyes unexpectedly start to water. She quickly blinked back the tears. She would never forget her own panic and fear when she got to the hospital and saw her baby lying there, after a drunk driver had hit her and left the scene. Dr. Hamilton had been in the ER that night. “You saved her life. I want you to be around a long time. That means taking your heart attack seriously.”

  He looked beyond Anabelle to the open door. “Hey, look who’s here!”

  Kirstie bounced in carrying a cartoonish get-well balloon. “Hey, Dr. Drew. Hasn’t anyone told you you’re on the wrong side? You’re supposed to be the doctor, not the patient.” She bent down to hug him and kiss his cheek. She looked lovely in her bright floral summer dress.

  Drew hugged her back. “How’s my favorite girl?”

  “Good.” She lifted her leg so he could see her new prosthesis. “It’s working so much better than the straight one. The curved foot puts a spring in my step.”

  “That’s wonderful. I see you’re not trying to hide it.”

  She laughed. “Not anymore. I watched that film about what this prosthesis has done for people, seeing them run and walk like normal. I decided it’s time to quit hiding.” She stepped back and held out her arms. “This is me and this is what you get.”

  Anabelle hadn’t heard about Kirstie’s new take on life. In a way she was proud of her daughter’s growth. Then again, she felt almost embarrassed that Kirstie could be so brazen about it.

  Maybe embarrassed wasn’t the right word. Then what? Anabelle realized that she was the one who hadn’t come to terms with Kirstie’s loss of a leg. Every time Anabelle saw the prosthesis, she was reminded of the horrific accident and the man who’d caused it.

  George Talbot had served five years in prison—not nearly long enough. The old familiar feeling began to rise from the dark place in her heart. Anabelle hauled in a deep breath and pushed the thoughts of him from her mind. She could not, would not, let her hatred and anger consume Kirstie’s joy.

  “Mother?” Kirstie touched Anabelle’s arm, bringing her out of her reverie.

  “What? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking.” Anabelle gave Kirstie a hug and leveled an I-mean-business gaze on Drew. “I’ll let you two chat. I have patients to tend to—ones who actually listen to my advice.”

  Dr. Hamilton chuckled as she left the room.

  Before heading to the cafeteria, Anabelle stopped at the chapel. Her thoughts about the man who’d nearly taken Kirstie’s life lingered, and Anabelle knew it was time to have the discussion she’d been avoiding. It was time to have a talk wi
th God.

  Shortly after completing morning care on her patients in ICU, Elena sat at the nurses’ desk writing her notes.

  “Elena.” The unit secretary handed Elena a note. “A call came in for you while you were in with a patient. I told her I’d have you call back.”

  “Thanks.” Elena studied the number but didn’t recognize it. Curious, she picked up the phone and dialed.

  “Oh, Elena, I’m so glad you called.”

  “Who is this?” A vice gripped her stomach. She thought she recognized the voice, but desperately hoped she was wrong.

  “This is Sarah.”

  No, no, no, no. It can’t be. Panic swept over her causing an ache in the pit of her stomach.

  Why is she calling?

  Elena focused on steadying her voice, hoping to emulate calm. “Why are you calling me at work, Sarah? I really don’t have time to talk to you.”

  “Please. I figured you’d hear me out more than Rafael.” Her voice broke but Elena didn’t care—at least she tried not to care.

  Sarah Fulton was Isabel’s mother. Elena seethed every time she thought of the woman who had chosen drugs over her baby, who had left Rafael to care for their newborn alone. She and Cesar had taken in Rafael and baby Isabel to live with them, and now they were a happy family. Nothing would change that if Elena had anything to say about it.

  “What do you want?” Elena knew her voice had a cold edge to it, but she had nothing to say to this woman. She especially didn’t want to hear anything Sarah might have to say.

  “I just wanted to know how my little girl is.”

  “Your little girl?” Elena clenched her fist and held the receiver so hard she thought it might crack. “Since when?”

  “I’ve changed, Elena. I’m clean now. And I…I just want to see her.”

  “No.” Elena’s heart pounded in her chest.

  “Please. I’d like to give her a birthday present.”

  “I’m surprised you even remember when her birthday is.”

  “I’m her mother.”