Sacred Trust

by Hannah Alexander

  “I wanted to catch you before you left for work, Mercy,” Theo said at last.

  Mercy smiled darkly to herself. The ploy of silence had worked again, and his tone had gone from hateful to conciliatory. It wouldn’t last, but Mercy would milk it. She still didn’t say anything.

  “Tedi tells me Ivy’s having some problems,” he said. “Is she going to be okay?”

  Continued silence.

  “Mercy?”

  “Look, Theo, I’ve got a job to get to. Cut the garbage and tell me what you want.”

  It was his turn for silence, and Mercy could imagine him fighting to control his own temper now. Ever since the day of their wedding, they had brought out the worst in each other, and it had escalated during the divorce. Mercy couldn’t remember a single space of time when they’d actually been happy with each other, and for a long time she’d blamed herself. No more.

  “I would have thought your daughter would be of more interest to you than your job,” Theo said in a deceptively soft voice.

  “Don’t start with me this morning, Theodore. I’m not in the mood. Let me talk to Tedi.”

  There was a pause. “What, and wake her up?”

  “She’ll have to get up for school soon, anyway.”

  “Well, school was what I wanted to discuss, Mercy. Seems we’re going to be out a little more money.”

  “We? For what?”

  “A special tutor. Her grades aren’t meeting the expectations of her teacher, Mrs. Watson. The old cow has sent three notes home with Tedi in the past month, and a couple of weeks ago she called me out of an important luncheon to pick Tedi up and take her home.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about it when it happened?”

  He ignored the question. “Tedi is not paying attention, she disrupts class and she doesn’t get along with her peers.”

  “Sounds to me as if she needs more counseling, not tutoring.”

  “You’re not making the decision, I am. I’m the legal guardian, remember?”

  “I’m still her mother, and guardianship can change.”

  Mercy heard a soft intake of breath.

  “We don’t need a shrink to tell us what’s wrong with Tedi, do we?” His voice grew rougher. “We both know that a mother with a history of mental illness—”

  “When did you graduate with a degree in psychology?”

  “I don’t need a degree to tell me—”

  “I think this time we’ll let a judge decide,” Mercy snapped, surprising herself. He didn’t reply, and she continued. “I’m fed up to here with your threats and your attitude and your insults, and if it’s getting to me, it must be getting to my daughter, too.”

  “Don’t try to blame me for—”

  “I’ve let you bully me for ten years, Theodore Zimmerman, from the day we got married. You’re not going to do it anymore, and you’re not going to do it to Tedi, either. Furthermore, if you want more money, you’re going to have to take me to court.” She paused for breath, then amazed herself. “While we’re there, we might as well cover everything at once. I’m going to sue you for damages to my reputation.” Was she actually saying these things? “As you know, a doctor’s reputation is her livelihood. You’ve already damaged that livelihood once. You won’t do it so easily again, unless you have a couple of million lying around to donate to the cause.”

  She heard Theo gasp, and she shook her head in shock at what she’d just said. What had gotten into her? She’d never spoken so boldly before.

  “Hey, hold it, there,” he said in a voice that betrayed his instinct to backpedal fast. “What’s going on? What’s upsetting you so much, Mercy? We don’t want to air our dirty laundry in the public court system. Half the population of Knolls will come for the show.”

  “That didn’t bother you five years ago. You got a kick out of broadcasting my problems.”

  Theo inhaled slowly and deeply. “Look, I know a lot of people found out about things, and I feel bad about that.”

  What a liar! He was the one who spread the story.

  “I’m willing to shoulder my share of the blame for that,” he continued, his voice shaking more obviously now. “Right now we have a ten-year-old daughter to consider.”

  “I’m sick of hearing you use Tedi as a shield. I want her to see a counselor.”

  “I’ll talk to her about it.”

  “Fine, you talk to her. I’m going to do some talking, too. If you can’t find help for her, I will—on my terms. I expect to receive word of an appointment by the end of the week.” Mercy slammed the receiver down.

  The bedside phone shrilled its alert through the call room four times before Lukas could awaken enough to reach out and stop it. He glanced at the lighted dials of the alarm clock beside the phone as he brought the receiver to his mouth. It was ten-thirty Tuesday morning. He’d had three and a half hours of sleep. Must be a wrong number.

  “This is Dr. Bower. My twenty-four-hour shift was over at seven. Try the other call room.”

  He took the receiver from his ear but heard someone say, “Dr. Bower, please!”

  He stayed in position for a moment, trying to recognize the voice of the kamikaze caller. No use. His brain was still numb.

  He brought the receiver back to his ear. “I’m sleeping. Leave a message.”

  “I’m sorry for bothering you, Dr. Bower.” It was Carol, the courteous, perky E.R. secretary. “Someone you recently treated is begging to talk to you. She says there’s an emergency with her brother, and she can’t get him to the emergency room. She says he’s too big, and he won’t go.”

  Lukas groaned. He was too tired to figure this one out. Maybe it was a bad dream. Technically he wasn’t here. After twenty-four hours without sleep, he had no business even talking on this phone, much less discussing a patient.

  “What’s his problem? Who are these people?”

  “Her name’s Darlene Knight. Her brother is Clarence Knight. She says you treated her for asthma a couple of weeks ago. I told her you were off duty, but she’s begging for you to go see Clarence.”

  “But I don’t treat patients outside the emergency room. My hospital credentials are specifically set up so that—”

  “She’s on the other line, Doctor. Would you tell her? We’re getting piled up out here.”

  “Wait, Carol, I don’t—”

  “Thanks, Dr. Bower. Here she is.”

  Lukas groaned again. He needed sleep desperately.

  “Hello? Is this the doctor? Hello?”

  At the timid sound of the woman’s voice, Lukas remembered the asthma patient. She had refused to stay in the hospital because her obese brother had no one to care for him at home. The poor woman was caught in a tragic situation.

  Lukas hesitated a moment more. He tried to speak, but it came out in a croak. Even his vocal cords were asleep. He cleared his throat. “Darlene? This is Dr. Bower.”

  “Thank goodness.” She sniffed as if she’d been crying, and her voice had a slight wheezing sound. “I don’t know what to do, who to turn to. You probably don’t remember me, but—”

  “I remember you, Darlene. How is your asthma doing? Are you taking your medication?” Stall for time. How was he going to tell her he couldn’t treat her brother at home? When he’d told Darlene she could call and talk to him, he only meant he would listen.

  “It’s not me, Doctor. It’s my brother. He’s really sick, worse than ever, and I can’t get him out of his room. He won’t let me call an ambulance. I told him about how you helped me and seemed to care, and he finally said he would be willing to see you if you would come here.”

  “Why don’t you tell me some of his symptoms.” Lukas could at least write them down, then try to convince her that Clarence must come to the emergency room.

  “I’ve caught him clutching his chest, but he won’t admit to chest pains. He’s been sweating a lot. He’s having trouble breathing and he’s admitted that his stomach hurts badly.”

  “Has he been urinating n
ormally?”

  “More than usual, but I don’t think he’s…you know…done anything else in about a week. His legs are swollen and he’s really thirsty.”

  “How is his breath?”

  There was a pause. “Awful. How did you know?”

  Lukas shook his head, awake in spite of his fatigue. The man was in trouble, and a house call wouldn’t take care of it.

  “Darlene, does diabetes run in your family?”

  “Yes, our uncle had it. He was heavy, too.”

  “I want you to call an ambulance, tell them they need a double crew, explain why and get your brother to the emergency room any way you can. It’ll take some manpower, but they can get him there. He needs much more help than—”

  “He won’t.” Her voice held a note of despair. “You don’t know how hard I’ve tried. He’s given up. You’re my only hope, Dr. Bower.” Her voice faltered. “I can’t just let him die, Doctor, and I think that’s what he wants to do. Please help me.”

  Lukas took a slow, deep breath. “Okay, let me see what I can do.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Here you go, Doc. Guess you know you’re running thirty minutes behind.” Josie Collins tossed the chart on Mercy’s cluttered desk and stood with her arms crossed.

  Mercy looked up at her black-haired, disgustingly cheerful nurse. “Yeah. So?”

  Josie grinned. “Feels good, huh? You’re in demand. You’ve received your third transfer patient of the morning.”

  “Flu epidemic is good for business, especially when the other docs are in Hawaii for a conference.”

  “Being female and having a gentle touch has something to do with it. It’s all I’ve heard this morning from all those patients eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

  Mercy scowled at Josie. “Don’t nag.”

  Josie made a face at her and turned to leave, her short hair shining beneath the fluorescent lights. “I’ve got patients to placate.”

  Josie was Mercy’s most avid cheerleader. She was a newlywed who had been gloriously happy and in love for five long, boring years. In spite of that serious failing, Mercy kept her on. She was good with the patients, and not everyone gagged when they heard her lapse into sighs of ecstasy at the mention of her husband’s name.

  To Mercy’s surprise, Josie poked her head back in a few moments later. “Phone call, line three. It’s your mom, or I wouldn’t have bothered you.”

  Mercy picked up the phone. “Hi, Mom. I hope you’re calling to say you’ve canceled your trip.”

  “You know better,” Ivy said. “I’m calling about Tedi. Have you heard from her?”

  “Since when? I saw her at my regular visitation time last weekend, and—”

  “She didn’t call you last night?”

  “No, why?” Mercy frowned. “What’s wrong? Did she call you?”

  “Yes, and she was crying. It was getting dark, and her father wasn’t home yet. He’d called to tell her he’d be late, and he was drinking.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”

  “You know how Theo reacts to you, and I didn’t want him to take it out on Tedi later. I told her to call me again if he didn’t come home, but you know how reluctant—”

  “Are you telling me she might have stayed at home alone all night long?”

  “It’s possible. I can’t prove it, and Theo would never admit to it.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Now don’t you think it’s time you did something to get Tedi back?”

  “Yes.”

  There was a moment of surprised silence.

  “Took the wind out of your sails, huh, Mom?”

  “It’s a nice surprise.”

  “There’ll be nothing nice about it. It’ll be a dirty court battle.” Mercy grimaced at the very thought of it. The whole idea scared her. “I just don’t want Tedi hurt any more than she has been. But if I find out she stayed home alone last night…”

  “Do you need the name of a good attorney?”

  “I’ll use Bailey Little. He’s president of the hospital board.”

  “He plays dirty,” Ivy warned.

  “He works for his clients.”

  “He’s dishonest, and you won’t stand for it, and you know it.”

  “I’ll do what it takes to get Tedi back. I have to go, Mom.”

  “Hang in there, babe. I’ll be praying for you both.”

  “Yeah, sure.” No sooner had Mercy replaced the receiver than the intercom buzzed.

  “Dr. Mercy, we’ve got another call for you on two,” came Josie’s voice over the speaker. “You may want to take this one, too.”

  “Another one? Josie, you know I’m busy.” It was well understood throughout the office that Mercy took only emergency calls when busy with patients.

  “It’s Dr. Bower.”

  “What does he want?”

  “He wants to discuss a patient with you. I figured since you were between patients at the moment—”

  “And thirty minutes behind, as you have reminded me twice—”

  “Thirty-five minutes now. But since he sounds almost desperate—”

  “And he has yet to learn our office rules around here—”

  “And he’s single and eligible, and from what I hear, he’s really nice—”

  “About which you will hold your tongue if you want to keep your job.”

  “Come on, Dr. Mercy. This sounds serious.”

  Against her better judgment, Mercy switched off the intercom button and picked up the phone. “Dr. Bower, may I help you?”

  “Yes, I’ve got a problem.”

  He sounded relieved that she’d actually answered. He also sounded groggy, not that she cared.

  “Do you ever make house calls?” he asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You know, house calls, where the doctor actually visits the home to—”

  “I don’t ordinarily make them, no.” Mercy tapped her fingers on her desk impatiently. “Is this an emergency, Doctor? I’m behind with my patient load, and I don’t usually take calls when I’m working.”

  “I think it’s urgent. We have a morbidly obese patient with possibly advanced type-two diabetes, heart failure, a probable intestinal blockage—”

  “Get him to the emergency room. What are they waiting for?”

  “He won’t go. His sister has tried to get him to go, and he apparently is also suffering from severe depression. They have no money, no way to pay, and he doesn’t want to be a burden on his sister. They come from a welfare background and have sworn never to go back. I treated his sister in the E.R. and he has agreed to see me, but they want me to go there. The problem is that I’m only credentialed to work in the Knolls emergency room. I have no professional liability coverage for any other setting. So what are you doing for lunch?”

  Mercy looked up as Josie came in and dropped another chart on her desk. “For lunch?”

  Josie froze, and her eyes widened. She nodded wildly.

  Mercy shook her head. “I’ll be working through lunch at this rate.”

  “Which means you’re dedicated to your patients. You were the only one dedicated enough to show up for the drill last night. You care about patients.”

  “What if I don’t take this house call?”

  “I’ll go by myself and risk losing my job, everything I’ve worked for my whole life.”

  “Oh.” If it weren’t this one particular man—“I thought you told me this guy agreed to see you, not me.” She glared at Josie, waving her out of the room.

  “I’ll go with you,” Dr. Bower said. “Curb your tongue more than you did with Jarvis last night and you might be able to cajole this patient into letting you examine him.”

  “If what you say about him is true, he’ll need much more than a house call to save him.”

  “I’m hoping we can convince him to go to the hospital once we’ve spoken to him in person. Remember that this guy doesn’t have a job, no insurance, no Medicaid. We won’t be
reimbursed for our time or any expense we incur.”

  “Sounds like a sweet deal to me,” Mercy said drily.

  “So you’ll bail me out?”

  “Let me get this straight. I’ll miss my lunch, I’ll risk losing patients and I won’t be reimbursed a dime for my trouble. I’d say that’s a great incentive plan.”

  “What if you save this guy’s life?”

  She sighed. “What’s the address?”

  “If you’ll give me a lift, I’ll show you. Oh, and would you please bring some supplies with you?”

  “Who do you think I am, the Salvation Army?”

  “The sister was wheezing when I talked to her this morning. She’s already been hit with an E.R. bill, and I don’t think she can afford her medicine. I think she needs a treatment.”

  “Fine. I’ll meet you outside the emergency room at about twelve-thirty.”

  When Mercy said goodbye she looked up to find Josie standing in the doorway, beaming at her.

  “You’re fired.”

  Josie walked out of the room sporting a stupid grin.

  Lukas sat on the bed in his call room for a long moment, relieved that Mercy had agreed to go with him to see Clarence Knight and wishing he could go back to bed. He stood up, pulled the covers up over the pillows to lessen temptation, then walked into the bathroom and splashed his face with water. He took his street clothes out of his designated locker and changed. They weren’t quite as wrinkled as the scrubs he’d worn and slept in for the past twenty-four hours, but he still needed to find some hangers and start using them. He also needed to find some gum or something before he opened his mouth and committed involuntary manslaughter.

  Just as he was about to leave the bathroom, he heard the call room door squeak open. He hesitated with a frown, expecting to see a representative from housekeeping coming in to clean the room and change the bed. He should have locked the door. What if he’d been undressed? They should at least knock. Of course, they probably didn’t realize he was still here.

  To his surprise, he saw the short, gray hair and army-straight shoulders of Dr. Jarvis George as the older doctor crossed his field of vision and approached the beside desk. The man pressed his knuckles against his upper right temple, and Lukas could see a grimace of pain from a side view of his face. He also saw a shaking hand reach up to a shelf above the desk and take down a box of prescription drug samples. Ultram. Lukas watched as Jarvis ripped the sample packet open and turned toward the bathroom. He then stopped, obviously shocked to see Lukas standing there.