Sara's Song

by Fern Michaels

  Sara blew her nose. “I haven’t even walked out of here. They certainly made the decision quickly. Everything happens for a reason I suppose. Why is it, Nellie, when you care, when you give 110 percent, they kick you in the gut. If I was a lousy doctor like some people around here whose names I won’t mention, I might be able to understand it. Do you think it’s that good-old-boy thing?”

  “It’s this whole place. Mostly it’s the money-hungry owners.”

  “Nellie, tell me the truth, do you think Billy Sweet’s death or Sadie Osborne have anything to do with this?”

  “I don’t know, Sara. I truly don’t know. I go off duty in ten minutes. Wait for me in the parking lot, and we’ll go for coffee.”

  “I was supposed to go up to Dallas’s house this evening. Now I don’t feel like it. Sure, I’ll meet you in the lot. You can have my plants, Nellie. Monty’s café?”

  “Sounds good. You can go ahead, and I’ll meet you there. I don’t want to see any more tears either. These people aren’t worth your little finger.”

  Sara did her best to smile for Nellie’s benefit.

  Nellie Pulaski yanked at her starched uniform before she settled her cap more firmly on her springy curls. She then stomped her way to Harry Heinrick’s office. She knocked as she opened the door. “Harry!” she called. Being of an age with the administrator and years of familiarity allowed for personal names in private. On the floor she was always careful to address the administrator as Mr. Heinrick.

  “What is it, Nellie. I’m pretty busy right now.”

  “I quit.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. I quit. How dare you not renew Sara Killian’s contract. How dare you, Harry!”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “You know I know everything that goes on in this hospital. You also know that I know you know, so don’t pretend with me. Sara is one of the best things this hospital has going for it and you know it. Why didn’t you fire Granger? Twice this week he came in here with liquor on his breath. I smelled it on him, Harry. He’s a drunk. You renewed his contract last month. Tisdale dispenses medication on the golf course and treats patients on his cell phone. He hasn’t been in here in a month, and you renewed his contract two months ago. With hefty raises for both of them. Sara has been doing their jobs, and all the nurses cover for them. I’m going to file a report with the AMA and everyone else I can think of. What do you think of that, Harry?”

  “Do you think I don’t know all of that, Nellie? What you have to realize is I can’t control the board.” His stomach started to churn. If there was one thing Benton Memorial needed, it was Nellie Pulaski. He wished he had a dozen curmudgeons like Nellie. “This job is the end of the line for me. I’m close to retirement age. What’s more, Nellie, I need this job because I, like you, make a difference around here. I live with that the way you do. The end sometimes does justify the means.”

  “I guess that means you sacrificed Sara for the betterment of Benton. In your mind, Harry. You are a . . . wuss, Harry Heinrick. You’re afraid of your own shadow. Did you hear me, I quit?”

  “You quit three times a week, Nellie. Benton Memorial is your life just the way it’s my life and everyone’s life who works here.”

  “Was my life, Harry. I’m quitting because of what you’re doing to Sara. I want to make sure you understand that. I am not giving notice either. When I walk out of here it’s for the last time. Carly Killian will be the next one to go. You better shore up your personnel files. I can see the malpractice suits flying all over the place. You’re turning green, Harry. God help the lot of you. Good-bye, Mister Heinrick. Have a nice Thanksgiving. I’m sure you’ll find something to give thanks for.”

  “Nellie, wait. You better than anyone should know things aren’t always black or white. There are reasons for everything, extenuating circumstances . . . things I’m not at liberty to discuss. What about the patients? You can’t just walk out of here.”

  “Watch me, Harry. I already have a new job. Yes, I’m leaving you. However, I am not leaving you without ER coverage. Therein lies the difference. That’s what I call professionalism. What you just did to Sara was not professional. Couldn’t you at least have waited until she was gone? See you around, Harry.”

  Nellie looked up and down the hushed, pristine white corridor. Would she miss this place? Maybe. Then again, maybe not. What she’d just done felt right and good. She hoped she had the courage to follow through on her threats about Granger and Tisdale. She squared her pudgy shoulders. Already they felt lighter now that she knew she didn’t have to pull double shifts so that she could keep her eyes on the two young doctors who, in her opinion, weren’t fit to practice medicine. In a pique of something she couldn’t define, she opened Harry’s office door and bellowed, “Make sure you send my gold watch by overnight mail!” She slammed the door so hard the knob came loose under her hand. For spite she gave the door a good kick before she marched her way out of the hospital to the parking lot.

  Nellie Pulaski took one last, long look at the hospital she’d worked in for so many years. “Life goes on,” she muttered. “You get a cat, you plant some rosebushes, and you learn more ways to cook hamburger. My reward will be that I sleep at night and the knowledge that I stood by a damn fine doctor.”

  Monty’s Café was the home of every white-collar professional within a seven-mile radius. It was one of the last bastions for smokers, and it was jammed to capacity twenty-four hours a day. The costly, intricate ventilation system allowed smokers and nonsmokers to eat and smoke in peaceful coexistence. It was Nellie Pulaski’s favorite eatery.

  She spotted Sara sitting at her favorite table. She waved the hostess aside, muttering, “I’m sorry I ever told your boss to serve Starbucks coffee. I’m even sorrier he listened to me. You can’t hear yourself think in here.”

  “Bad day, huh, Nellie?” The young hostess grinned.

  “Six of one and a half dozen of the other. I quit today. I am officially retired from Benton Memorial as of,” Nellie looked at her watch, “fourteen minutes ago. Don’t broadcast the news, honey.”

  Nellie weaved her way across the room to where Sara was sitting and lowered her bulky figure gingerly into the comfortable captain’s chair. She immediately fired up a cigarette and proceeded to blow three perfect smoke rings in succession. “Congratulate me, Sara. I told Harry what he could do with his job. I also told him to, send me my gold watch by overnight mail. I didn’t even give notice. What do you think of that?”

  “If you did it for yourself, okay. If you did it for me, then you were wrong. I’ve been sitting here wailing to myself. I don’t understand. Are you sure you told me everything?”

  “Absolutely. Don’t you dare start to question your profession or your abilities. You are not at fault here. Both of us gave quality care. I stayed because I knew I made a difference. I think you stayed for the same reasons.”

  “God, Nellie, when I think of all the years of study, my specialty training, my student loans . . . That’s most of my life. I gave up everything to be a doctor and that . . . that money jockey tells me I’m not worth it. Sure I can send out resumes by the dozen but how do I explain the fact that a second-rate private hospital didn’t renew my contract. I can’t even give them a reason why other than money. Should I go further in debt and strike out on my own? I feel like an old sweater that’s starting to unravel. My parents sacrificed everything for Carly’s and my educations and it still wasn’t enough. I’ve been sitting here thinking about going to some third-world country for a couple of years to wipe out my loans. You can do that you know. I have two mortgages on the house, my car is on time payments. We had to buy new kitchen appliances, and they’re on time, too. There’s no money left at the end of the month. There should be, but there isn’t. I know I’m worth more than I’m paid. It was stupid of me to buy that expensive car. Every time I get behind the wheel I think about the $710 a month payment. It’s obscene the way that car guzzles gas. Neither Carly nor
I have much in the way of savings. I’m really going to need the unemployment insurance. Nellie, I’m going to be forty. I should have a family of my own and be comfortable in my profession. I need to know, Nellie, where did I go wrong? I bought into that myth that doctors make megabucks. That’s got to be the biggest joke of the year. The malpractice insurance alone can wipe you out.”

  “You didn’t go wrong. Let’s drink this delicious coffee and talk about other things. I’d really like to know what’s going on with you and Mr. Dallas Lord, popular rock star. Is it serious? What do you have planned for Thanksgiving?”

  “I was planning on going up to Dallas’s house this evening. We were going to do a big Thanksgiving dinner. Carly’s going to Hank’s house. I really don’t feel like going now. All I want to do is go home, crawl into a corner, and suck my thumb.”

  “Then do it. Stop worrying about other people. When are you going to learn to do what you want to do? I’m sure that retinue of people Mr. Lord surrounds himself with will come up with a dinner.”

  “That’s just it, Nellie. There is no retinue. He gave the gardener, the pool man, and the housekeeper time off. He wanted to be alone. The band members are scattered all over the country with the exception of one of his singers, who hangs around by the gate. He’s counting on me. He’s so lost and lonely. Right now I feel exactly the same way he does. I can relate to him in so many ways. After today, more so than ever.”

  Nellie snorted as she held her coffee cup aloft for a refill. “What happened today was not your fault. We all go through periods like this. It takes guts to go forward. If you pamper and coddle him of course he’s going to latch on to you. You’re his crutch. The hard edge should be off his grief by now. The man has a brother, Sara.”

  “I don’t even want to get into that, Nellie. I think I got myself in a little too deep. At first I was flattered, and it was fun. Now it’s a strain and an effort. I think it’s me. I like Dallas tremendously and I think I’m falling in love with him. He kisses me but he hasn’t sexually hit on me. I find that . . . weird. He has this, for want of a better phrase, old-world respect for me. Sometimes I like it, and other times I don’t.”

  “You could come to my house for Thanksgiving dinner. I bought a twelve-pound bird. I’m going to do my pies tonight. I have to tell you, though, I invited Steven McGuire, and he’s coming. I’ll fix up a dinner and take it over to Sadie Osborne. Usually Steven goes home to his family in Indiana, but he has some surgery scheduled for the day after Thanksgiving. He’s doing two hip replacements on two shepherds from the same litter. Isn’t that amazing? What did you think of him?”

  “He was very nice. I think we could be friends. It’s getting late, Nellie, I should be going. I appreciate your loyalty. I’m going to worry about you, though.”

  “Baloney. I’m applying for Social Security. My pension is sufficient. My little town house is paid for. I’m going to be just fine. Working with Steven a few hours a day is just perfect. Don’t forget, I can always do private duty. You worry about what you’re going to do. Just don’t make hasty decisions. I want your promise, Sara.”

  “I promise, Nellie. At least I’ll be able to go on that diet and go back on my exercise routine to take off the ten pounds I put on since last year. That was going to be my New Year’s resolution. Now I won’t have to wait to start it. You should think about starting a program to give up smoking.”

  “It’s something to think about. This was my treat, Sara. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “No, Nellie, I’m not all right. I need to do some hard thinking. I wish I was a schoolteacher. My mother wanted me to go into the education field. It was my dad who wanted me to be a doctor. He wanted Carly to be an architect. She didn’t buckle under the way I did. I actually allowed my father to convince me I wanted to be a doctor. For a long time I had myself convinced I wanted to be a doctor all my life. I did it for my father, not for me. I’ll call you over the weekend. Thanks for the dinner invitation. Don’t eat too much. Say hello to Steven for me.”

  “Make sure you call me, Sara.”

  “I will. Thanks for everything, Nellie. Without you at Benton, I would have quit after two weeks. Enjoy your retirement.”

  It was close to seven o’clock when Sara set the contents of her hospital locker on top of the clothes dryer in the garage. She took a moment to study the Jeep Wrangler she’d just parked. She hated it. She wanted her Jaguar back.

  Sara kicked off her shoes at the top of the garage steps before she pressed the numbers that would deactivate her security alarm. The kitchen phone and Carly’s personal phone rang at the same moment. She made no move to answer either one. Instead she sat down and stretched her legs out in front of her. She eyed her medical bag on the kitchen table. She wished again that she was a schoolteacher with nothing to do but make up lesson plans. Both phones continued to ring. Obviously the person doing the calling knew the answering machines for both phones switched on after the fifth ring at which point the caller broke the connection and redialed. With Sara’s zero social life it had to be Dallas Lord doing the calling.

  Never one to run from her responsibilities, Sara picked up the phone to call the house in Mandeville Canyon. Dallas picked up the phone on the first ring. His voice sounded worried and concerned to her ear.

  “Dallas, I’m afraid I’m going to disappoint you. I won’t be coming up to the house this evening. Right now I’m feeling sorry for myself and I wouldn’t be good company. I hope you have a nice Thanksgiving. I think I’ll just spend mine sleeping.”

  “You sound funny, Sara. What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

  “Yes, something’s wrong, and yes, something happened. I found out today the hospital isn’t going to renew my contract. I can’t be without a job. I have a mountain of bills, so that means I have to start to scramble for another job. This is not a good time of the year to be out of work.”

  “I thought you said you had a whole month and that the contract had to be negotiated. How did you find out?”

  “That’s not important. Besides, I can’t betray a confidence. Nellie quit in protest. You met Nellie at the hospital when you brought Billy in. She’s the one I talk about all the time. It’s not fair, and it’s not right. I might just go to a lawyer and find out if I’ve been discriminated against because I’m a woman.”

  Dallas’s voice became anxious sounding. “What will that get you but a big legal bill? How can you hope to fight and win against a big hospital?”

  “With what I know and with what I can prove, a lot. Nellie and my sister are behind me. When I get done airing all Benton’s dirty laundry, private donations will be just a memory. Don’t mind me, Dallas, I’m upset. I’m going to take a hot bath and go to bed. Have a nice Thanksgiving. I’m really sorry, Dallas, but I know you understand. I’ll try to get up there in the next couple of days to get my car. I really don’t like your Jeep.”

  Sara took the phone off the hook and laid the receiver on the kitchen counter. The total silence was wonderful. She did the same thing with Carly’s phone in her room.

  Ninety minutes later she was sound asleep.

  Chapter Seven

  Dallas hung up the phone, his thoughts whirling. Think things out, make a plan, and then follow through. Adam’s words. Adam’s advice. Both of which he constantly ignored. If Sara ever found out what he did, she’d hate him. Right now she probably didn’t like him very much, or she would have come up to the house to talk about her disappointment. She wanted her car back. That alone had to mean something. Benton’s dirty laundry. What did that mean? Would Harry Heinrick be forced to tell Sara’s lawyer about the deal he’d made if he reneged?

  Dallas felt a headache coming on. If he didn’t pay attention to it, he’d have a full-blown migraine before long. Maybe it was time for some music; music always made things better. Even though he wanted to call Adam, he wouldn’t. He needed to do something before he lost control of everything. Where was he going to sleep tonight? Even though the
decorators were on the first floor, the sounds would carry upstairs. Then there was the mess on his bed. Of course he had six other bedrooms to choose from. Sara wanted her car back. What the hell was he supposed to do with all the food in the refrigerator? Adam would have the answer to everything in less than five seconds. He, on the other hand, needed hours just to think about the problem, never mind solving it.

  Dallas looked around the state-of-the-art sound studio that ran the entire length of his house. He’d seen professional studios that weren’t half as well equipped as this one. He flicked dials, turned switches and knobs. Sound blasted his eardrums. When he and the Canyon River Band recorded an album, the whole canyon rocked with their sound. He turned the knobs, switches, and dials to the Off position. For the first time in his life, music wasn’t his answer. He needed to talk to Billy, only Billy was dead. He could never talk to Billy again. The only other person who seemed to understand him and offer encouragement was Sara, and he’d screwed that up just the way he screwed everything up. According to Adam. He wondered if Adam ever did anything wrong.

  Disgusted with himself, Dallas tore out of the kitchen and then out to the garage. Good, Sara’s keys were still in the ignition. Two keys. One for the car and one for the house. He backed the Jag out of the garage, barreled down the driveway just as the gate opened wide. No hangers-on, no fans, no paparazzi anywhere. The thought was disconcerting as he tore down the canyon roads at ninety miles an hour. Did that mean he was losing his appeal or did it mean they were respecting his right to grieve?

  Dallas rode around for an hour as he tried to remember the landmarks Sara had spoken of. It was after one in the morning when the headlights of the Jag arced on the front of the house. He closed the car door quietly. Just as quietly, he opened the garage door. He stared at the alarm panel. Only the green light glowed. The system wasn’t armed, which meant he could enter the house through the kitchen.