“It’s either that, or the tarts. Frankly, I think tarts can solve just about any problem. Take the War of 1812, for instance. Maybe they didn’t have to fight over the Great Lakes like they did. Maybe they could have all sat down, had some tea and tarts, and called an end to the whole thing.”
“Is that what we’re doing?”
She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Are we calling an end to this whole battle over tea and tarts?”
A smile grew on her face. He looked vulnerable somehow, the first time she’d seen him without that guarded reserve he considered so important. “I believe that’s exactly what we’re doing. Here’s to a cease fire.” They were both out of tea, so she held up her tart in a toast.
“To a cease fire,” he replied.
Chapter Ten
Edward clenched and unclenched his hands while he waited for Dr. Russell to finish reading the report. Sophie—how odd it felt to call her that—had taken three days’ worth of notes and presented her opinion that the headaches weren’t caused by any sort of tumor, and now it remained for Dr. Russell to voice his opinion. At last, he closed the book and laid it on his desk.
“Your nurse presents a compelling argument,” he said. “I’m inclined to agree—your headaches seem to be a result of stress. But now another question remains. How are we to reduce the stress in your life so you can move forward without the headaches?”
Sophie gave a delicate cough, and the two men both looked at her. “What is it, Sophie?” Dr. Russell asked.
“I just wondered . . . no. I really shouldn’t say anything.” She looked down at her hands.
Edward was caught off guard. He’d never seen her look hesitant to say anything. In fact, it was usually quite the opposite. “I’d like to hear what you have to say.”
She looked just as surprised as he felt. “Thank you. I was just going to suggest that if Dr. Gregory’s father is a source of stress for him, perhaps they should try to mend their fences, as it were.”
“I . . . I don’t know if that’s possible,” Edward said after a moment. Her suggestion had made his chest seize up.
“But it’s an interesting thought,” Dr. Russell said. “What would need to take place in order for those fences to be mended, Dr. Gregory?”
“I suppose I would need for my father to understand the value of what I do,” he said slowly. “That my contribution matters as an individual. That I’m needed here.”
“Why don’t you show him around the hospital?” Sophie suggested. “Let him meet some of your patients, perhaps.” Then her eyes lit up and she got a mischievous look. “We could even arrange for there to be some sort of medical emergency, and you’d just happen to be the only one with the answers.”
Edward shook his head. “No, I won’t stoop to deceit. Whatever he sees and learns about me must be completely honest.”
“Oh.” She looked disappointed. “Because it would have been fun. I could have pretended to be dying from some sort of dreadful tropical disease. It would have been very dramatic, I assure you.”
“I appreciate your willingness and enthusiasm, but no.” Edward turned back to Dr. Russell. “What do you recommend?”
“I like Sophie’s idea. About showing your father around the hospital,” he amended quickly. “But I also believe you’ll need to speak with him, openly and honestly, about your life here. He may never understand, but that’s all right. As long as you’ve said what you need to say, it should help your overall health, and that is our goal.”
Edward nodded. This made sense to him. But now the larger question remained—just what was he supposed to say?
***
Because they’d happened upon a plausible theory for Edward’s headaches, Sophie didn’t go out with him the next day. Instead, she joined the other girls for the morning lecture.
“Dr. Russell received a letter yesterday from a colleague who has been traveling the world, visiting cultures far different from our own,” Miss Cantrell told them. “He recently returned from Fiji. They had a terrible outbreak of the measles earlier this year—it lasted six months. This morning, we’re going to discuss what we know about epidemics such as these and what we should do if we were ever to experience something like that here. Our last epidemic was influenza in the fifties, but I don’t want anyone caught off guard, as I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.”
Measles! Measles would make the perfect dreaded tropical disease. But no—Edward had said he didn’t want to deceive his father. More’s the pity. Sophie was sure she could be a very convincing measles patient.
Thinking about measles made her think about Edward, and thinking about Edward made her feel fidgety. She didn’t think she’d completed her assignment, and she very much disliked not completing her assignments. But there was something more, and she was shocked to realize that she missed him. But how was that possible? Who would miss spending time with that grumpy, impossible-to-please man?
Class was dismissed, and the girls had just sat down to eat their lunch when a knock sounded at the door. A moment later, Edward entered the dining room.
“Pardon me. Mrs. Everett said I should just come on through.”
“Of course.” Miss Cantrell stood up and motioned him to a seat. “Please join us.”
“I don’t mean to intrude.”
“But you’re not. Mrs. Everett clearly invited you,” Miss Cantrell said with good humor.
Edward took a seat, glancing at Sophie almost apologetically. It annoyed her how good it was to see him.
“How are you feeling today, Dr. Gregory?” Miss Cantrell asked, as no one else in the room had made a sound. All chatter had stopped the minute he came in. It was probably just as well—the girls had been talking about work and making their various complaints and unguarded statements about the doctors, and Edward didn’t need to hear that.
“I’m quite well, and yet not, Miss Cantrell. It seems that I’ve lost my caretaker.”
Sophie didn’t look up, but concentrated on the plate in front of her.
“Oh? Does this present a problem?” Miss Cantrell asked.
“I’m afraid it does. We’ve theorized as to the cause of my headaches, but I find that I need more help arriving at a solution. I wonder if I might borrow Miss Jones for a time this afternoon.”
Sophie looked over at Miss Cantrell, hoping she’d give permission. And then she wondered why she hoped she’d get permission. This was Grumpy Gregory, after all, the man she least enjoyed spending time with out of any man on earth.
“I believe that can be arranged. She was scheduled to work with Dr. Russell today, but I’ll be there as well, so we won’t be leaving him entirely without assistance.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Edward turned toward Sophie. “Does that suit you, Miss Jones?”
Sophie felt the eyes of every girl at the table focus on her. They knew she’d been struggling with Dr. Gregory—she’d hardly kept it a secret. “I’d like that,” she said at long last.
“Excellent. Thank you.”
They finished the meal in relative quiet, the only conversation taking place between Edward and Miss Cantrell as they asked each other polite questions. Sophie didn’t know what to say, and the other students seemed shocked into silence. When the meal was over, the girls left the table in a rush, almost like animals finally let loose of their cages. Sophie and Miss Cantrell were the only exceptions.
“Have a pleasant afternoon, Sophie,” Miss Cantrell said with a warm nod toward Edward.
“Thank you, Miss Cantrell. I won’t be out late.”
Miss Cantrell excused herself, and Edward motioned toward the door. “Shall we go?”
Sophie hesitated. “Where are we going, exactly?”
“Well, I don’t know. That’s why I’m here—I was hoping you could help me decide.”
“If you leave the decision to me, you’re opening yourself up for a possible adventure. I hope you’re all right with that, Doctor.”
�
�I’ll prepare myself as best I can.”
Moments later, with her hat securely in place. Sophie joined the doctor and they began their stroll.
“I’m glad you came by,” she said after a long moment of waiting fruitlessly for him to speak. “I’ve felt as though I haven’t finished my assignment, and I wondered how you were feeling.”
“I’ve had a slight headache behind my eyes since we met up together at Dr. Russell’s, but nothing debilitating.”
“That’s good,” Sophie said approvingly. “That’s quite a lot of progress.”
“It is. And I was quite startled to make a discovery.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“That my headaches seemed to go away almost entirely during the short time we spent together. I think you might be good for me, Sophie.”
She glanced over at him quickly to see if he was serious. He seemed to be, and she honestly had no reply for him. “Well, that’s what nurses do, you see,” she said lightly, hoping to cover her embarrassment. “That’s why you doctors need us so much.”
“I’m becoming more appreciative of the whole profession every day.”
“So, has Dr. Russell told you when you may go back to work?”
“He says as soon as tomorrow, but if I find it too stressful, I should excuse myself for the rest of the day and go home.”
“So soon?”
“Yes. He feels that my relationship with my father is the biggest factor, and that work is secondary.”
“But you haven’t resolved things with your father yet,” Sophie said. “Isn’t this rather like knowing about the medication, but not taking it, and expecting it to work?”
Edward chuckled. “That might be the case, but Dr. Russell feels that since I’m working toward that conversation with my father, it might be enough for now.”
“I suppose it might be,” Sophie said doubtfully.
“So, I wondered if you’d be willing to assist me tomorrow for my first day back.”
“I’d like that. I’d be interested to see what elements of your work day might increase your headache on top of your other stress.”
“Yes, I think that would be wise.” Edward paused, and Sophie came to a stop beside him. “Plus, I believe that you understand me better than the other nurses, and for this first day in particular, that would be helpful.”
He seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. Sophie wondered at that, but she nodded. “Of course. I’ll be glad to help you. Chances are, I’ll be about fifteen minutes late, but I’ll be there.”
“Wonderful. Now, how shall we spend our afternoon?”
Sophie held up her handbag. “First of all, I believe we need to update our journal. We’re missing several hours of important information.”
They found a nice grassy patch along their way and took seats, then Sophie pulled out her notebook. She recorded Edward’s sleep and his meals, then asked about his headache.
“Remarkably, since we began our walk, the headache has gone away,” he told her.
“Excellent. Fresh air and exercise are key in your recovery, from what I’m seeing here,” she said, flipping through the last few pages to compare.
“I would say, fresh air, exercise, and being in your company.”
She looked up to meet his eyes. “Honestly, Dr. Gregory, if you don’t stop making comments like that, I might start to believe that you don’t hate me anymore.”
“Hate you? I never hated you, Sophie. I just . . .” He looked down at the grass and plucked up a few blades. “I just vented my anger and frustration on you at every turn, let you have the brunt of my pain, and made you feel worthless.” He let the breeze carry away the grass on his palm. “And I hope you can forgive me.”
She blinked several times. “An apology? My goodness. First we bury the hatchet, and now I get an apology? This is becoming almost too much.”
He reached out and touched her hand. “Please, Sophie. Forgive me. Let’s truly start over, all right? I don’t want to be that man anymore. I didn’t realize how unbearable I’d become until you showed me, and I have nothing but regret over how I’ve treated you—well, and every other nurse who set foot in the hospital. I want to make things right.”
Sophie studied his face, his eyes. He most definitely was not the same man she’d started working for the previous week—had it only been a week? So much had happened, it felt like much longer. “Of course, Edward,” she said. “Let’s start all over again and make it fresh.”
“Thank you.” He gave her fingers a little squeeze before letting go. “Now, we need to decide on our course of treatment for today. I’m supposed to relax as much as possible. What do you recommend?”
“The menagerie in the park,” Sophie said without hesitation. “Jeanette and I went there our first week in New York, and I’ve wanted to go back ever since.”
“Then that’s what we will do.” Edward stood up and offered his hand, and they strolled off in that direction together. It was very nice. In fact, it felt friendly, which surprised Sophie almost more than anything else had for a long time.
Chapter Eleven
Edward took several deep breaths before he stepped out of his bedroom and walked down the stairs of his boardinghouse. He hadn’t been absent from work for very long—only a few days—but those few days had been so revelatory, had taught him so much about himself, that he was apprehensive about returning. He had been a beast, and he could plainly see that now. What he didn’t know was when he had become that way. Was it only the headaches, or was it part of his character? Would he be able to make the necessary changes, or would he revert as soon as he was back in his familiar environment?
Of all the things he regretted, and there were many, he most regretted the way he’d treated Sophie. He could see now that all she’d ever done was try to bring light into a dreary place, and he’d tried to extinguish that light. He should have known better—no one would ever keep Sophie from sharing every bit of happiness she could. That was her gift.
He had decided to work a half day, arranging to be there at the time Sophie would arrive. He didn’t intend to become dependent on her, but for this first day, when he was still uncertain what would bring on a headache, he would feel more comfortable with her at his side.
He climbed the steps to the door of the hospital and was surprised to see Sophie waiting for him inside.
“You’re late, Doctor,” she chided. “Don’t you know we have patients to see?”
“I’m sorry, Nurse. I’ll do better next time.”
“Well, I certainly hope you will!” She motioned down the hall. “Nurse Foster has put your first patient right down here for you. She feels we’re most likely looking at emergency surgery.”
Edward quickened his pace.
He found his patient lying on the floor in the examination room, moaning in agony. There didn’t appear to be anyone with him.
“Sir? What seems to be the trouble, sir?”
The man didn’t answer, but moaned all the louder.
Sophie knelt down beside him and put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m Miss Jones. What’s your name, sir?”
“Harold. Harold Brown,” came the labored answer.
“Mr. Brown, I need to perform an examination,” Edward said. “Is it possible for you to get up onto the table?”
The man did nothing but moan again.
Sophie glanced up at Edward and then back down at the patient. “Mr. Brown, I’m right here, and I’ll help you every inch. Let’s do it together, all right? Can you roll over onto your knees?”
At first, nothing happened, and Edward wondered what they were going to do. He could examine the man on the floor, but if Nurse Foster was correct and surgery was needed, that would have to take place on the table. He simply couldn’t imagine operating on the floor. Of course, they could sedate the fellow and then lift him.
Just as he was formulating a plan, Mr. Brown came to his hands and knees.
“Excellent!” Sophie praised
him. “Now, I’m going to get under this arm, and Dr. Gregory will get under that arm, and we’re going to boost you to your feet. Then you turn around and hop up on the table, all right?”
Edward doubted this man could hop anywhere, but Sophie’s tone of voice made him believe anything was possible. He stooped down, grasped Mr. Brown’s other arm, and helped Sophie bring the man to his feet. Quick as a wink, Sophie had the man turned around, and then they helped him onto the table.
Then Mr. Brown threw up.
“Never you mind,” Sophie said when he muttered some apologies. “It’s a good diagnostic tool, isn’t it, Doctor?”
“Yes, it is. Now, Mr. Brown, can you tell me where it hurts?”
After asking a few more questions, Edward was relatively certain. “Mr. Brown, you have an organ in your abdomen called the appendix. At times, the appendix becomes infected, and causes great pain. If it’s not treated, it can go gangrenous inside the body. I believe that your appendix needs to be removed, Mr. Brown, as quickly as possible.”
Mr. Brown nodded, and Edward began rattling off instructions to Sophie.
Moments later, they had wheeled Mr. Brown into an operating room and asked another nurse to clean up the vomit in the examination room. Sophie didn’t seem too disappointed that the task had been reassigned. Mr. Brown had been administered the correct amount of ether, both nurse and doctor had washed carefully, and it was time to begin.
“In a case like this, we have no idea what we’ll find until we get inside,” Edward said. “We will begin by making an incision from this point to this point.” He did so while he spoke. “The appendix can be found by moving this tissue—oh, my.”
“What is it?” Sophie came closer and looked inside the abdominal cavity.
“This man’s appendix is well on its way to turning gangrenous.” Edward pointed to various spots in the cavity. “We have the additional complication of plastic peritonitis. Have you studied this, Miss Jones?” He wanted to call her Sophie—he liked the way the word sat on his tongue—but in the hospital setting, he thought that might not be appropriate.
Cause of Conflict (Nurses of New York Book 2) Page 7
