For a moment Tedi felt sorry for Dad. His family had been really poor when he was growing up, and Dad was unpopular in school. His brothers, all three of them, were a lot older than Dad and had gotten married and moved away before Dad reached junior high. Then he’d been shifted back and forth from mother to father.
It was strange, but sometimes Tedi liked Dad better when he’d had a couple of cans of beer. It never lasted long, because he wouldn’t quit once he’d started, but sometimes he would relax for a few minutes. For those few moments he was nice. He would talk about himself and his own childhood, even about having a crush on Mom years before she knew he existed—when she was hitting the books so hard she barely noticed boys at all and never dated because it might interfere with “real life,” as Dad put it.
A car pulled up to the curb beside her. “How about a ride?”
Tedi stopped walking and turned slowly toward the voice. Dad sat in the driver’s seat of the BMW, gripping the steering wheel as if prepared for impact.
Tedi shrugged, trying not to frown. “Sure, Dad.”
His hands relaxed as she unslung the book bag from her shoulders and opened the door.
Trying not to be too obvious, she sniffed the air for the telltale odor of liquor breath. She didn’t detect anything, but Dad’s mouth was closed. She climbed in and put on her seat belt.
He pulled off slowly. At least he wasn’t mad about anything.
Tedi cast a glance at him, pretending to look for a book in her bag. He was watching her. She looked away quickly. Why’d he have to come and get her? Next time she’d walk another way, maybe use the alleys or something. She didn’t want him coming to get her or trying so hard to be nice, especially when that meant he would spend more time with her. He never seemed normal anymore. Nothing seemed normal. She was scared of what he might do, but even worse than that, she just didn’t like him. The sudden thought scared her. She felt so mad at him. In a way, she was almost more afraid of her own anger than she was of his drinking. She felt as if her mouth might say something horrible to him before she could stop it, and then he might hurt her.
“Lots of homework tonight?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“How about the Oriental Buffet for dinner before we go home?”
She looked at him and blinked. She didn’t smell any booze, but didn’t he realize it was barely past three o’clock? “I’m not hungry yet.”
“Okay, then, takeout.”
She shrugged. Why didn’t he just stay at work?
“Does that mean yes?” he asked. His voice sounded impatient.
She took a breath and let it out slowly. “Yes,” she said through clenched teeth.
She had to keep her mouth shut. She’d promised Mom.
Mercy stepped out of her car with her stethoscope draped around her neck and her doctor’s bag in her hand. Mom would not push her attentions off today.
As Mercy’s anger had seethed this afternoon, she’d rehearsed what she would say, keeping in mind the fact that Mom was sick. This would not be a good time for a fight or even one of their regular arguments. This was a time for tenderness and a good bedside manner.
Ivy opened the door before Mercy could knock. “I’ve been watching for you.”
Mercy hid her dismay at Ivy’s pale features. “Hi, Mom. How’re you feeling?”
“Tired. Relieved to be home.” She stepped back from the doorway. “Come on in. I guess I deserve this visit.”
“What are you talking about? I’m just going to check you out for myself to make sure you survived the flight.”
Ivy let her in, then closed the door and dropped into the nearest straight-backed chair. She gestured toward the stethoscope around Mercy’s neck. “Don’t strangle me with that thing.”
Mercy lowered herself to her knees beside the chair in order to work better. She took the offending instrument from around her neck. “I’m not going to strangle you.”
“You know about my fax to Jarvis, don’t you?”
“Who doesn’t? Be quiet for a moment.” Mercy listened to the regular sinus rhythm of Ivy’s heart, took her pulse, counted respirations. A little elevated, but understandable if she’d been expecting a fight. Mercy’s own pulse was probably a little fast, too. She pulled the sphygmomanometer out of her bag and checked Ivy’s blood pressure. Also a little elevated.
She put everything away and perched on the arm of the sofa across from her mother. “Relax, Mom, I’m not going to yell. I didn’t find out about the fax until Dr. Simeon informed me about it this morning. Of course I was upset when I heard, but your health is of utmost importance to me right now.”
Ivy smiled wryly. “So when you find out I’m perfectly healthy, that’s when you’ll strangle me.”
“Am I that bad?”
“You can’t help yourself. You take after me.” Ivy leaned forward, elbows on knees, and fixed Mercy with an intent gaze. “I still act on impulse. That fax was pure impulse when I was in the Denver hospital waiting to find out whether or not I was going to die. I felt so guilty for behaving irresponsibly, ruining the first part of the hike for the others and endangering my own life. I thought about what that might have done to you and Tedi, and I knew I’d really blown it. I think, with the guilt and fear and continued grief over Mother, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I could also blame it on remnants from the drugs they gave me.”
“Are you saying you’re sorry you sent it?”
“More so as time goes on, and I think about the damage I may have done to Dr. Bower’s career, to the future of the hospital.”
“When did you decide this?”
“On the flight back. I had a lot of time to think about it, and I realized you were right about my attitude weeks ago. I blamed Dr. Bower for Mother’s death.” Ivy sighed, leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. “I was being spiteful and vindictive, and I tried to camouflage it as community spirit—seeing to the safety of our citizens. I didn’t show a Christian spirit.”
“As you said, you were sick and confused.”
“I can’t blame you for not listening to me when I talk about Christianity. I spout all this stuff about the love of God, and then sometimes I act as if I think I’m God. I’m sorry, Mercy. I’m failing you.”
“That’s ridiculous, Mom. You’re human.”
“I’m also a Christian, and my own daughter rejects God.”
Mercy studied her mother’s face for a moment. “Maybe not.”
Mom’s eyes widened. She didn’t say anything, just held Mercy’s gaze.
“That doesn’t mean I plan to ‘get saved’ and join a church. But, Mom, you really have changed. Five years ago, you would’ve never admitted what you just did. And you’re more forgiving than you used to be, more patient with Tedi.”
“I really was terrible, wasn’t I?”
“That’s not what—”
“I know.” Ivy smiled. “You don’t know how much that means to me.” She studied Mercy’s face for a moment more, then said, “Dr. Bower’s had something to do with your change of heart, too, hasn’t he? You told me on the telephone the other day that he was a Christian, and I didn’t want to hear it.”
“He is, Mom.”
“What can I do to help him?”
“He’s planning to quit the hospital.”
“Why?”
“Lots of reasons. The fax was just one of them. Bailey Little has a personal vendetta against him for reasons I can’t go into—”
“Dwayne Little tried to get drugs from the E.R. and Dr. Bower was not compliant.”
Mercy looked at her mom with renewed respect. “Yes, and Lukas also missed an MI last Thursday, but upon researching the case, I have discovered that the patient refused any of the tests that would ordinarily alert him to the problem. Lukas should have signed her out AMA—against medical advice—but he didn’t. Jarvis has been out of line on this whole thing, especially when he spread word about Lukas losing his residency position.”
“I know. I
allowed him to bully me into siding with him against Dr. Bower.”
“I personally wouldn’t believe what Jarvis said about anything right now.”
Ivy shook her head. “I’ll call Estelle and try to do some damage control.”
Mercy smiled, then stood up and hugged her mom. “Thanks. If they’ll listen to any one person, they’ll listen to you. I’ll call Lukas tonight and try to talk him out of resigning.”
The young emergency room physician at Willow Springs reminded Jarvis of Lukas Bower, with his muscular build, light brown hair and glasses. Jarvis found this extremely irritating, and he hated the position he was in, needy, dependent. He had no choice. He was out of pain meds and could get no more without arousing suspicion. Jarvis had checked in here at least an hour ago using a fake name and offering to pay cash at the window. They had run tests, let him sit in pain and pretty much treated him as if he were a drug seeker.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Delaney, but your tests results aren’t back yet,” the young doctor answered in response to Jarvis’s repeated plea for pain relief.
“What about the CT?” Jarvis snapped. “Surely that’s been read.”
“We want to run the films.”
“I want to see them. What about the other tests?”
The young doctor sighed and explained slowly, as if Jarvis were of below average intelligence, “When we get the films, we would like to teleradiograph them to the radiologist on call. Then we’ll consider all the results—”
“Skip the details!” Jarvis shouted. “I know the details!” His head throbbed so painfully that he grabbed at his skull and cried out and felt as if the lights had suddenly gone out. He heard the man’s reply in snatches.
“…can see you’re in pain…give you a shot…lie back…”
“I can’t stay overnight,” Jarvis managed to say as he allowed unseen hands to help him lie down. “I’ve got work to do.”
A few moments later he felt the prick of a needle. The relief, when it came, was not complete, but it was very precious.
Mercy had arrived home and was about to call Lukas when her own phone rang. Tedi’s muffled voice reached her when she picked up the line.
“Mom, it’s me. I hate him! I wish he were dead!” She stopped, and a sob echoed through the phone line. “I know I promised to keep my mouth shut, but it’s so hard.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. He’s just so hateful.” Tedi’s sobs grew in strength, and Mercy allowed her to cry. It was probably what she needed most, aside from a different father. When the sobs dwindled and stilled, Mercy asked gently, “Where are you calling from?”
“Home.”
“Where is your father?”
“He’s not a father. He’s a horrible—”
“Where is he?”
“He went out for a while. Probably to drink.” She sniffed.
Mercy wanted to drive over immediately and take her daughter out of that house, drive away into the night and never bring her back. “Tedi, has he been drinking?” She braced herself for the answer.
“No, Mom, I don’t think so.”
“What has he done today?”
More sniffing. “Nothing. He picked me up on the way home from school, and we got something to eat, and then he tried to help me with my homework.”
“He did?”
“But he couldn’t. He’s dumb.”
“Did he help you with English or math?”
“English and history.”
“Let him help with math. He can do that.”
“I don’t want him to help me with anything! I want him to stay away from me. I don’t want him to even talk to me. I kept thinking about what he’s done and I hate him!”
Mercy recognized the signs. She’d felt the same way, when she couldn’t stand the sight of Theo even when he was trying to be nice, because she knew it wouldn’t last. All the kindness he could dredge up wouldn’t erase all the pain he’d caused.
“I know, Tedi. I understand how you feel.” A ten-year-old little girl should never have to feel that way. “Do something for me, okay? Just go to bed. Try to be asleep when he comes home. That way you won’t have to talk to him again tonight.”
Tedi was silent for a long time, and Mercy heard soft sniffling again. How much longer would this go on?
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, honey. We’re going to get you out of there, but I want to do it legally so it’ll stick. Please do as I ask.”
“Okay. I’ll try.”
“And, Tedi?” She couldn’t believe the words that came to her mind, but she knew Tedi needed to hear them. “Remember the night you got stung by the bee?”
“Yeah.”
“Remember that you prayed?”
“Yeah.”
“Pray again.”
Lukas read and reread his short letter of resignation. It simply informed Mrs. Pinkley that he wished to be released from his duties as of this coming Thursday morning. It was an offer that came after hours of prayer. That would give Jarvis Tuesday and Wednesday to find someone to take his place Thursday, and it would meet the deadline for the hospital board committee meeting, therefore not endangering Mrs. Pinkley’s job. He added no stipulations about liability.
The phone rang, and Lukas reluctantly picked up. He knew who it was. He knew what his answer had to be. “Yes, Mercy.” He listened. Bless her. “Thursday, Mercy. Unless something happens, Wednesday will be my last day at Knolls Community.”
Chapter Thirty
At eight o’clock Thursday morning Theo sat across the desk from Mr. Johnson, his boss. Gordon slumped next to him, eyes averted, while Johnson threw down some copies of transactions that had taken place at the First State Bank months ago.
“Can either of you explain these to me?” the boss growled.
No one said a word.
Johnson sat back in his seat, crossing his hands over his midriff. “Ever heard of a paper trail?” His eyes simmered with anger. “Gordon? You write all the checks—or you did until now. Tell me what I’ve got here.” He picked up the papers and waved them.
Gordon cleared his throat and shot Theo an unholy glare. “You tell him, Theo. This was all your idea.”
Theo took a deep breath, wishing he were any place else. “That property we told you about back in—”
“I know which property you’re talking about!” Johnson spat. “I told you not to buy it, remember? I knew it would cost too much to fix up, then be impossible to unload. You not only disobeyed a direct order, you used company money—money from my company!—to gamble on something I’d already told you was a lost cause.”
“But we contributed, too!” Theo exclaimed. “The price was—”
“That place was worthless at any price!” Mr. Johnson tossed the papers back down and shoved himself away from the desk. The rollers of his chair took him backward several inches. “I can have you arrested for embezzlement right now. You didn’t think I could follow your juggling act, did you, Gordon?”
“It was temporary.” Gordon’s voice held a definite whine. “We were going to pay it back.”
“You’ll pay it back, all right.” Johnson stood to his feet and placed both hands on his desk. “You’ll have thirty thousand dollars here in this office by Monday, or I’ll press charges and this will be in the hands of the police. I imagine the state Board of Realtors will also have some input.”
Theo also stood, determined not to be intimidated. “Where are we going to get that kind of money?”
Johnson’s eyebrows shot up in amazement. “I don’t think I heard correctly. Are you implying that’s my problem?”
“I’m simply stating that you’re not giving us much time to—”
“Shut up, Zimmerman,” Gordon snarled. “He doesn’t have to give us till Monday.”
Johnson stared at Theo for another moment. “Your little buddy here is right, Theodore. I could have had the police waiting for you this morning when you walked in. Count your
blessings.” He shook his head and turned to walk out the door. “You’re both fired,” he said over his shoulder. “Get out.”
At eleven-thirty Thursday morning Jarvis sat at the nurses’ station in the center of the emergency department, grimacing every time the baby screamed in exam room three. He was ready to strangle the baby, the mother and the nurse, Claudia, who seemed to contradict every decision he’d made this morning.
There had been few patients so far, none with high acuities, for which Jarvis was thankful. Thanks to narcotics his pain was manageable, but barely. He did not want to have to make snap decisions about human lives under these conditions, and he cursed Lukas Bower for not being here to do his job. While he was at it, he decided to curse Bailey Little, as well. His threats were the reason Bower had handed in his resignation. Estelle Pinkley deserved to be on the list, too, for suspending Bower’s privileges so he wouldn’t be on duty today. The woman had the audacity to refuse the resignation! After tonight’s meeting they could set about hiring someone to take Bower’s place, but that didn’t help now.
The ambulance speaker sparked to life, spewing information about an elderly man in apparent cardiac distress. They were on the scene and would be en route in a few minutes. The patient apparently lived close to the hospital.
As soon as the report ended, Jarvis turned toward the desk and spied Dwayne Little sitting out in the waiting room. He motioned to Claudia. “Is Little here as a patient?”
She glanced at Carol, the secretary, and they exchanged a meaningful look. “Yes, Dr. George. He says he has a headache.”
Jarvis felt a flash of irritation. “Is there some reason he hasn’t been taken care of yet? We’ve got several empty exam rooms.”
“He was low on my triage list,” Claudia said tiredly.
“Since when is pain a low triage? There’s nobody else waiting out there, is there?”
“No, but I’m getting ready for our cardiac patient.”
“Fine, you do that, but take care of our other patients while you’re at it. Get Dwayne back here.”
Sacred Trust Page 32
