One Sure Thing (Mamma Lou Matchmaker Series)

by Norfleet, Celeste

  “Where the hell have you been?” I’ve been calling for over an hour.” Raymond instantly smiled.

  “Let me call you back.” Raymond excused himself and exited the hospital. He walked over to his car and leaned against the side door. He pressed the code to dial the lasted number called. Tony picked up instantly.

  “Where the hell have you been?” I’ve been calling for over an hour.” Tony was his usual self, somewhere south of fury and north of frenetic, as his voice boomed into the receiver. “I got a message from Colonel Wheeler, what’s going on with Mamma Lou?”

  “Everything’s under control. Mamma Lou had an episode...” he began, but was instantly cut off.

  “An episode?”

  “Yes,” Raymond answered patiently.

  “What the hell does that mean, an episode?”

  “If you would calm down I’ll tell you,” he paused than began again. “Mamma Lou and Colonel Wheeler were dining with some friends when she began experiencing tightness in her chest. The episode continued for several moments then dissipated. Then early this morning the discomfort began again, this time with a body rash. That’s when Colonel Wheeler contacted emergency services and they brought her here to the nearest facility.”

  “Where’s here?”

  “We’re at the Golden Heart Medical Center in New York.

  “How’s she doing?”

  “She was just falling asleep when I left the room.”

  “What do you mean when you left the room? Where are you now?”

  “I’m in the hospital parking lot. Cell phones aren’t allowed in the hospital.”

  “Raymond, is Mamma Lou going to be okay?”

  Raymond nodded his head. “She’s going to be fine. She’s stable and resting comfortably. The attending physician gave her a mild sedative and an antihistamine that has induced sleep.”

  There was silence on the other end of the line as Tony processed the information. “Are you sure it wasn’t a heart attack?” he asked calmly.

  “I don’t think so. The doctor has run a number of tests. Although the results aren’t all in, it seems that she suffered intestinal gastritis from some ingested allergen.”

  “Speak English?”

  “She had an allergic reaction to something she ate, and possibly developed a gas bubble in her chest from undigested food.”

  “How serious is it?”

  “She’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure.”

  “So what happens next?”

  “The attending physician wants to keep her overnight for observation.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “It’s standard medical procedure. It’s just a precaution. Her blood pressure is elevated and she has a slight temperature. But I think those are primarily due to the circumstances. What she needs now in plenty of rest. Her body has been through a mild trauma.”

  “Trauma? We’re on our way. We’ll catch the next flight to the States and be there by tomorrow evening give or take a few hours.”

  “Tony, chill out. There’s really no need for you and Madison to cut your trip short and rush home. Mamma Lou’s going to be just fine. I’m here and so is Colonel Wheeler. Dad is in surgery and Uncle Matthew called from the West Coast. They’ll both be here as soon as possible. Mamma Lou’s in excellent medical hands and in a very well respected facility. If there is any change at all, I’ll call you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “All right,” Tony relented, “Give Mamma Lou our love when she wakes up. I’ll call you tomorrow to get the results of all the tests. Tell her I’ll call tomorrow.”

  “Okay, talk to you later.”

  Just as Raymond ended the conversation, his cell phone rang again. He spent the next twenty minutes assuring his uncle, his aunt and several other members of the Gates family that Louise was well, getting the best medical attention, and that she was in excellent hands.

  The last call came from his father, Ray, while he was still in surgery. Having only just begun the eight-hour plus procedure, he had the Johns Hopkins surgical staff patch an outside communication line through to his operating room headset.

  Raymond finally closed the phone ending an extended conversation with his father. Dr. Raymond Gates, Sr., or Ray, as the family affectionately called him ever since Raymond Jr. was born, was the Director of Neurology and Critical Care at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore, and he was well aware of Golden Heart Medical Center’s reputation. Apparently their newly renovated ER department was known for its excellent critical care. Raymond reassured his father that Louise was in good hands.

  Raymond eventually turned off the cell phone. He went back into the hospital. As he entered the ER area he looked around for Hope. She was in another exam room so he continued to his grandmother’s room.

  He passed Colonel Wheeler on his way to get coffee. He declined his offer to bring him back a cup and continued toward Louise’s room. He entered to find her peacefully asleep. Raymond sat down in the seat nearest the bed. For the first time he took a moment to actually look around the small cubical. It was a lot larger that he’d first realized. Then he wondered why he’d never heard of the small hospital before.

  His father had recognized the name immediately. He mentioned that Golden Heart Medical Center was in the process of a complete overhaul of its main facility, including the ER. Ray looked up at the ceiling-mounted arm that held suction, oxygen, and other emergency medical equipment including EEG and EKG monitors. He walked over to the small space between the two cubicles. Beside the bed, mounted on the side table, was a registration computer with hook-ups to the pharmacy, CT, and MRI labs.

  He wasn’t overly impressed with what he saw. The rooms were still small and cramped. Privacy was impossible and the main nurses’ station left a lot to be desired. Technically, although adequate, there was room for improvement.

  He moved back to his grandmother’s bedside. She slept soundly, in a restful slumber. Raymond marveled at the beauty she still possessed. It was hard to believe that she’d turned eighty just under year ago. Her even, mocha complexion, virtually wrinkle free, was still smooth. The only telltale sign was the brilliant glow of soft thick silver white curls haloed around her head.

  Her even-tempered manner was misleading to most. She had all the charm and style of a reigning queen and enough feistiness to behead you if you got on her wrong side.

  By all accounts she was the matriarch of the extended Gates family. With three younger brothers and a younger sister, she was used to getting her way in all matters. Especially when it came to matters concerning her two grandsons.

  Recently she’d discovered a new hobby, turned pastime, turned full time occupation. That was matchmaking. After her success with his cousin Tony and Madison, she’d seriously begun turning her not too subtle attention in his direction.

  Although Raymond had been quite adept at avoiding her many attempts, he was certain that she wouldn’t give up until he was walking down the aisle with a his new bride on his arm as the minister pronounced then man and wife.

  Raymond shuttered at the thought. Married life was definitely not for him. He was a confirmed bachelor and nobody, not even his beloved Mamma Lou would change that.

  At least he didn’t have to worry about her doing any matchmaking while she was in the hospital. After all who in their right mind would plan and scheme while lying in the hospital room in pain.

  Chapter Seven

  Raymond stood and paced the room a few more times.

  “Why don’t you go grab yourself a cup of coffee,” Colonel Wheeler suggested. “They’re a few vending machines in the small area next to the family waiting area.” He walked over to stand by the Louise’s side, a place where he’d grown very comfortable over the years. “I’ll be here,” he looked down at Louise lovingly. “If she awakens before you get back, I’ll call you.”

  Raymond looked over at his grandmother. She was still
sleeping peacefully on the narrow hospital bed. He watched as Colonel Wheeler wrapped his large loving hand around her petite one. He sat down in the chair nearest the bed, leaned over, and then gently stroked her cheek with their hands still intertwined. He gazed tenderly at her face then seemed to still his thoughts.

  Raymond quietly walked from the room and closed the door behind him. He stood just outside the door for a second thinking of the deep love and devotion his grandmother and Colonel Wheeler had shared. Theirs was a loving affection filled with understanding and compassion. For a split second he wondered if he’d ever find that kind of enduring affection.

  A deep line creased his knitted brow. Then, slowly, it was replaced by an easy, knowing smile that steadily crept across his face. The bizarre thought of finding a devoted relationship had taken him by surprise. But now he was back to his old self again.

  He shook his head to clear the stray thought. He refused to be betrayed by his own musings. Mamma Lou with all of her matchmaking talk was beginning to get to him. This wasn’t the first time he’d wondered about his romantic future. But he would certainly make sure that it would be the last.

  Now, for the first time since crossing the threshold of Golden Heart Medical Center did he actually take the time to look around at his surroundings. Feeling like Dorothy in Oz, he was definitely not at Manhattan Medical nor any of the other private hospitals. Compared to them, Golden Heart was more like a poor, sick, pathetic stepchild in need of support and an even more in need of a major influx of cold hard cash.

  The main nurses’ station looked dated, as if stuck in a time warp. The florescent lights cast an unflattering glow over an enormous circular workstation. The workstation was virtually devoid of warmth.

  He walked over to the ER nurses station. He glanced around for any sign of Hope. Several nurses attentively looked up from their tasks with interest. He declined their assistance then asked about Dr. Adams’ whereabouts and was informed that she would be back within the half hour. He nodded and walked away more disappointed than he should have been. He told himself that he was solely interested in the tests results but a part of him knew better.

  He briefly glanced into each of the eight exam rooms as he passed, only three of which were occupied. Yet, seeing that Hope was nowhere around, he continued through the large circular area until he came to triage. Instinctively he looked in. It too was empty except for an on-duty nurse who’d been cleaning and restocking the area with supplies. She politely asked if she could assist him but again he declined her offer and instead asked for directions to the cafeteria.

  “Doctor Gates.”

  Hearing his name called, Raymond turned around. “Yes?”

  “Doctor Gates, excuse me. Might I have a moment of your time?”

  “Yes of course,” Ray responded automatically.

  Scott Wallace extended his hand to shake. “Doctor Gates, I am honored to actually meet you. It’s truly a pleasure. Your reputation precedes you. I’ve followed you and your father’s work extensively. As a matter of fact, I did my internship at Johns Hopkins and spent quite a few hours watching your father operate. He’s a brilliant surgeon.”

  Not particularly surprised by the sudden flattery, Raymond thanked him. “Thank you Dr.”

  “Wallace, Doctor Scott Wallace. I’m the ER Medical Director here. First off, I’d like to offer my sincere apology for the appalling treatment by my staff. Dr. Adams was completely out of line and totally unprofessional. Her behavior was unwarranted and completely uncalled for. And I assure you, she will be suitably reprimanded.”

  “That’s not necessary. Dr. Adams was just doing her job. She is the attending physician.”

  “I’ll discuss this with the hospital administrator and have her removed from the case at once.”

  “That’s a bit much don’t you think? After all, we were both at fault.”

  “Dr. Gates, you needn’t concern yourself. I assure you, this isn’t the first time that Dr. Adams has over-stepped her bounds.”

  “Ultimately, my only concern is the welfare of my grandmother.”

  “As am I, I assure you. It will be my honor to personally take over the case.”

  Raymond wasn’t completely comfortable about changing doctors in this manner. “I’m sure Dr. Adams is quite capable. And I appreciate your interest but…”

  “No need to thank me. I assure you, it’s my pleasure.”

  Scott spent the next ten minutes discussing the accomplishments of Raymond Gates Sr.’s illustrious career at Johns Hopkins, as he boasted about his own career at Golden Heart.

  “Doctor Wallace, I do have one question. I haven’t been in on an ER medical staff since my intern rotation. I’m unfamiliar with the term LP macrotentioneda.”

  Scott grimaced. “Acronyms like those are why we rather not use them.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “Actually I’m not familiar with that particular term, but I’ll be happy to find out for you.”

  “I’d appreciate that doctor, thank you.”

  Seconds later Raymond pushed the large blue square panel on the sidewall and waited a second or two for the automatic doors to swing open. When they were completely open he stepped through into another world.

  The waiting area was almost completely empty. Raymond glanced around getting his bearings mindful of the directions he’d just received. He turned right and passed the main information and sign in desk where two nurses, and an orderly, and a police officer talked quietly amongst themselves.

  A young man, in his mid twenties, sat nearest the desk watching the television as he waiting patiently. On his lap was a sleeping child, obviously exhausted. Propped next to him was another sleeping child, older, maybe four or five, with his head lying awkwardly against the man’s arm.

  In the far corner, there was a much older man sitting underneath a peaceful picture of a child playing in the sand. He was hunched inward, bundled up in a too small sweatshirt and too large jeans. Now fast asleep, his hands still gripping a newspaper he’d been reading as his slowed rhythmic snoring wheezed with little difficulty.

  A continuous blast of air from the air conditioning vent directly above him, kept the unread newspaper flapping in his stilled hands. Gruff and grimy in appearance, his matted hair was a disastrous crop of black and gray, seemingly unkempt and uncombed for many days. He had a large suitcase near his dirty socked feet, which were very comfortably planted next to his pair of very new, very chic, very red, three-inch patent leather pumps and matching purse.

  Raymond shook his head, not completely surprised by New York’s finest. Hospital waiting rooms were notorious for bedding the homeless and mentally ill nightly. Often forced back out onto the streets by security, they often returned, craving the relative safety of the hospital to the streets.

  And yet, far be it for him to pass judgment on anyone, he thought as he wandered around the dimly lit hospital corridors at six o’clock in the morning. It wasn’t the oddest thing, but not exactly the most normal thing to do.

  With relative ease, Raymond followed the directions exactly. But instead of finding himself in the cafeteria, he was headed directly to the doctor’s lounge. Hopeful to find a hot cup of coffee, he pushed through the doors and entered.

  She had her hands cupped over the top of her head with her head bowed low into her chest. Soft gentle sobs of pain emanated from her obvious distress. In an instant her head bobbed up displaying anguish across her face. Her gasp of surprise was as heartbreaking as her still gently falling tears.

  With little thought to the appropriateness of the situation Raymond found himself by her side within seconds. He embraced her lovingly and protectively wrapped his arms around her.

  He leaned her head onto his chest. She conformed easily allowing his strength to still her. Raymond drew her closer and inhaled the sweetness of her scent. She smelled of clean fresh cotton and jasmine.

  “I’m sorry,” Hope said as she tried to move away before she thoroughly e
mbarrassed herself. She had misjudged his compassion. “This is totally unprofessional of me. I’m sorry.” Utterly and completely mortified by her show of weakness, she continued to apologize.

  “What’s wrong, what can I do, how can I help?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I’m sorry,” she hiccupped and swallowed a sob while continuing to edge away from him.

  “There’s obviously something wrong, tell me, what is it?”

  “Nothing,” she sniffed away a falling tear then turned to the anxious man beside her. “Your grandmother will be fine.”

  “I know that,” Raymond said indignantly, slightly insulted by her assumption that his only concern at that moment was for his own well being and that of his family. “My concern is for you. How can I help?”

  Hope stared at Raymond for an instant. She was taken aback by his genuine concern, his ardent, almost passionate plea to help her. He was actually concerned about her feelings and her discomfort. Why? She wondered to herself with dubious curiosity. What possible difference could her distress make to him? Then, suddenly, an overwhelming sense of attraction swept through her. Gasp. She sat back and shook her head as if to dispel the odd feeling of attraction and fascination that had somehow snuck up on her.

  Raymond watched closely enough to notice a sudden change in her facial expression. The uptight, embittered medical professional had turned from a sobbing heap to an aloof and guarded woman right before his eyes.

  “Listen,” he said, speaking in the barest whisper, “whatever it is, whatever the problem, sometimes talking about it, talking to someone else, a friend maybe, makes a difference.” Raymond reached up to wipe the last fallen tear from her cheek. Her skin was soft, too soft. He smiled, openly assessing. “Sometimes even talking to someone you barely know, can’t stand, and just met after an argument in the hospital quiet room can be helpful.”