Side Effects

by Bobby Hutchinson

  Becky set her barely touched coffee on the scarred table and sat up a little straighter.

  "Morning, Shirley. This is our new doctor, Alex Ross. Alex, Shirley Boyd, the director of nursing."

  Shirley didn't offer her hand. She gave Alex a cool glance and a nod. "I suppose you'd like a look at our facilities," she said in a grudging tone.

  "No problem, Shirley," Becky said in a breezy voice. "I've already shown Alex around. I knew you'd be busy when you came on shift, and I had time."

  Shirley shot her a glacial look, and then pointedly glanced at the clock on the wall. "I believe rounds start at eight-thirty, and I imagine Dr. King will be waiting for those charts, Becky."

  Becky didn't spring to her feet, although it was plain Shirley thought it would be appropriate.

  Alex, however, got the message loud and clear. "I really appreciate your help, Becky. I'm meeting Dr. King in a few moments myself, so I'd better be on my way. Nice to meet you, Shirley," she lied.

  She hurried out, mentally putting Becky on one side of an imaginary ledger and Shirley on the other. One positive, one negative. And where would Hollister King fall?

  She hurried along the sidewalk that bordered the clinic's parking lot.

  "Doctor Ross?" The deep, officious male voice sounded from behind her, and Alex stopped and turned.

  "Hollister King." He was exceptionally tall and very broad, with a full mane of white hair and a sizable paunch. Alex knew he was fifty-nine, and for his age King was still an impressive figure. She instantly felt both physically intimidated and improperly dressed—her colleague was wearing an impeccably tailored light brown summer suit with starched white shirt, conservative necktie and highly polished brown leather shoes. His snowy brows grew in bushy profusion above penetrating pale blue eyes, and he was scowling at her through hornrimmed glasses.

  Conscious of her bare, sandaled feet and casual clothing, Alex still managed to sound more confident than she felt. "How do you do, Dr. King? I've been looking forward to meeting you." She extended her hand and dredged up a smile.

  To her horror, King ignored the polite gesture. He looked straight into Alex's eyes with cold animosity. "What's this nonsense I hear about you sending the Townsend baby off to Vancouver by Air Ambulance last week without so much as a by-your-leave from me? I was the physician on the case, madam. I am the Townsends' doctor. I delivered young Jason Townsend. You, on the other hand, could hardly have known him a day, and still you took it upon yourself to take over a patient of mine. Bloody cheek, I call it. Who do you think you are?"

  Alex dropped her hand and stared straight back into King's eyes. She'd encountered enough doctors like him during her career to have perfected a way of dealing with them, but superficial bravery didn't do anything for the trembling deep in her insides.

  "Jason was operated on at Children's three days ago for pyloric stenosis, Doctor King." She kept her voice even, her tone nonjudgmental. "When I saw him, he was already dangerously dehydrated. As you know, in a baby Jason's age, severe dehydration is often terminal. I took immediate action because I felt the situation warranted it."

  "You should have contacted me before taking any such action," King roared, oblivious to three people who'd just pulled up in the parking lot a few yards away and were getting out of their car. All of them froze, staring curiously at the two doctors.

  Alex shot a meaningful look at their audience and said in a steely tone, "Perhaps we should continue this conversation somewhere a little more private, Doctor?"

  King's large, already florid countenance turned magenta, but he wheeled around and stalked through the front door of the clinic without another word, leaving Alex to trail behind, her anger and sense of outrage boiling up inside her like a volcano as she walked in behind him.

  King didn't pause at the reception area, and the woman behind the desk stared openly at both of them as they passed.

  Alex followed hard on King's heels, making it through the door of his office a bare instant before he slammed it.

  The rude, insufferable old... walrus!

  She was damned if she was going to let him get the better of her, especially when he had been the one to make the diagnostic mistake. The opinionated old stuffed shirt ought to be thanking her for saving his patient instead of acting this way, she fumed.

  King ignored her presence, picking up a file folder from his desk and pretending to study it.

  Alex stood and stared at him, letting the silence lengthen.

  At last, he shot her a look. "You do have an office down the hall, young woman. I have rounds to make at the hospital and patients waiting to be seen. And as far as patients are concerned, you will be sent only the new ones. From now on, my patients are off-limits. Do I make myself clear?"

  Alex could barely contain her temper. Her voice trembled, but she stared him straight in the eye, her chin held high. "I will see any patient who asks to consult me. I am a physician, and my responsibility is to the public, not to you, Doctor. We have to work closely together here, and it would be far more pleasant to be congenial, but if this is your attitude, then I shall have no choice except to be as rude to you as you have been to me."

  She opened the door and stepped through it, closing it softly behind her. Her face and neck felt as though they were on fire, and her entire body was trembling. She took a moment to draw in several deep breaths before she walked over to the tiny, birdlike woman behind the reception desk.

  "Morning." Lord, her voice had a quaver. She cleared her throat, pasted on a smile and held out her hand. "I'm Dr. Ross. How do you do?"

  The woman smiled hesitantly and took Alex's hand, her small dark eyes wary. "I'm Ruthie Amorelli. Welcome to Korbin Lake Medical Clinic. I'll be handling your appointment book and doing your billing."

  "I'd appreciate it if you could quickly show me the facilities and point out which office I'll be using, Ruthie," Alex said as pleasantly as she could, fully aware that the dividing walk were thin and the entire altercation with King had undoubtedly been overheard.

  Well, now everyone in the clinic knew exactly what was going on, so there'd be no surprises. "I'll be seeing any new patients that arrive. Are there many new patients, Ruthie?"

  "Well, there's always new families moving into the area," Ruthie said uncertainly. "But right at the moment, I don't think there are any coming in that I know about. Not this morning, for sure." She flashed a false, bright smile. "You'll have plenty of time to get settled in, anyway, Doctor." She led the way down the hall, scurrying past the closed door of King's office.

  "There are two examining rooms down here, and we use the lab over at the hospital, of course. This is your office." She opened the door to a small, bare but pleasant room with a wide window looking out onto a wooded area. The room contained only a stained beige carpet, a scarred desk, a telephone and two chairs.

  "That connecting door is to one of the examining rooms, and the bathroom's over here. There's a little lunchroom at the back, and I guess that's about it."

  Alex thanked Ruthie, went into her office and closed the door, slumping against it with her fists clenched, staring out at the peaceful green pine trees and seeing instead the morning bustle at St. Joe's ER.

  Monday mornings could be quiet. The staff would be having coffee, chatting about the weather, laughing at one another's jokes, trading friendly insults and gossiping about some weird incident or other that had occurred over the weekend.

  Bella would be taking up a collection for somebody's wedding shower, and Helen would be showing off pictures of her latest grandchild. They were an insular family in the E.R., Alex thought with a wistful smile, bonded by the intimacy of combating illness and death.

  They were her family, beloved, familiar, caring. They were her friends. They respected and acknowledged her ability as a physician, they liked her as a person. She missed them so much at this moment that her chest ached.

  What in heaven's name was she doing in this alien place, in this barren room, subject
to the rude tirades of a man who thought his name represented his station? She didn't have a patient to her name, and from the sound of things, no real prospects of getting many. Her fists curled and she fought the rush of self-pitying tears that burned at the back of her eyeballs.

  Damn you, Cameron Ross. What have you done to my career?

  THE MEETING WITH Harry Perkins was pleasant and unremarkable. Short, fat and well over sixty, the administrator puffed on a cigar the entire time Alex was with him, making her wonder if anyone had ever talked to him about the connection between smoking, arteriosclerosis and obesity.

  She also wondered if the smell of cigar smoke would linger in her hair and clothing for the rest of the day, and decided it would.

  He asked about her father and made flattering comments about Brace's ability as a surgeon—Bruce had apparently successfully operated on Harry's brother at some point. He didn't indicate what for, and Alex didn't ask, desperate to get out and breathe some pure air as soon as she decently could.

  "We won't need to have you apply for admitting privileges," he said in his gravely smoker's voice. "We're all very glad to have you here."

  With one obvious exception, Alex thought. Surely Perkins had to know how Hollister King felt, but if he did, he didn't mention it. Instead he went on to say that he hoped Alex would enjoy a long and pleasant career in Korbin Lake and then invited her down to the hospital cafeteria for coffee and doughnuts, which she declined. He was available at any time, he emphasized, if she should need anything. His door was always open.

  And that was that.

  She made her way back over to the clinic at half past ten, and from then until four in the afternoon she treated two patients, one a senile old man with a bladder infection who for some reason refused to be treated by King. The old man was probably smarter than the rest of the waiting room full of people, Alex thought cynically.

  Her second patient was a tourist who'd stopped in Korbin Lake for lunch at a diner and stepped the wrong way off the curb, ending up with a severely sprained ankle. He arrived at Emergency, and Dr. King declared himself too busy to see him, actually referring the man to Alex.

  Alms for the poor, Alex decided ungraciously.

  The hours dragged endlessly. She read outdated magazines from the waiting room and listed supplies she needed to make her barren office personal and inviting. When the loneliness grew intolerable, she placed a call to the nursing desk on Wade's floor at St. Joe's and asked if she could speak to him. A long time passed, and then the nurse came on the line.

  "I'm so sorry, Dr. Ross, but he refuses to talk to anyone."

  Alex hung up. She dialed Thea and got her machine, called her mother and father and got theirs, tried Verna with no success, then tried to reach Morgan, only to learn that her friend was in the delivery room.

  Alex shook her head and had to smile. Where else would Morgan be? The delivery room was her all-time favorite location.

  Desperate now, Alex called the RCMP office and asked Lorna if Cam was available.

  "Gosh, I'm sorry, Alex. He's up at the mine. I can reach him if it's urgent."

  She was on a roll, and it wasn't a good one. "No, not at all. I just wondered if he was free for a late lunch. Just tell him I called."

  She hung the phone up and considered an overdose of something lethal. It seemed everyone in the world was busy except her.

  At four-fifteen, she was getting ready to go home at last when the telephone rang.

  "Is this Doctor Ross, the ravishing new GP? Do you make house calls, Doctor? Because I seem to have this swelling—'

  "Cameron?" Just hearing his voice brought tears of self-pity to her eyes.

  "Hi, sweetheart. How's your first day going?"

  She swallowed back the urge to tell him exactly how it was going. "Slow," she managed to reply instead, trying to sound unconcerned. Ruthie could come in any moment, and she didn't want to be overheard when she told Cam exactly what she felt about Doctor King.

  "Very slow. In fact, I'm going to head home in a few minutes." Please, Cam, come home with me, just for a little while. "How about joining me?" She waited, praying that he'd say he could break off early.

  If ever she needed to talk to him, it was now.

  "I wish I could," Cam said, and a feeling of intense loneliness swept over Alex.

  "Things are nuts around here. I was away all day, and now there's a stack of complaint sheets to sort out, and I still have to drive out to some ranch and check on a complaint that they're mistreating their horses. Thank heaven Greg's coming back tonight. Listen, honey, could you do me a big favor and stop on your way home for a case of beer? If I ever get free here, I'm gonna sit on our deck and sip a cold one, and the way my day's going, I'll miss the store. Don't worry about supper. I'll bring home Chinese about six." A radio squawked in the background. "Gotta go, love. Talk to you later."

  And that was that. Alex hung up slowly. At least the frustration that came from trying to have any sort of meaningful conversation with Cam was becoming familiar.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  STEERING CAREFULLY down her twisting driveway, Alex saw a battered old red Chevy she recognized parked in front of the house, and her heart sank.

  David had obviously arrived. She'd hardly had time to unpack, and now she had a houseguest. She tried to plaster a welcoming smile on her face, a smile that felt as strained as an overstretched rubber band.

  Her brother-in-law didn't seem to notice. He came loping up from the lakeshore, a wide grin on his handsome, tanned face. His hair was tousled, his T-shirt bragged Packing The Goods, and his rugby shorts bared long, heavily muscled legs. Like his older brother, he was drop-dead handsome, and he was going to cause quite a stir among Korbin Lake's female population, Alex surmised as he wrapped his arms around her, lifted her off her feet and planted a kiss on her cheek.

  "Hey, Alex, hope you don't mind me dropping in like this. I got things in order in Vancouver and just decided to take off. How's it goin' with you? You're as gorgeous as ever, sister-in-law. You cut your hair shorter—it looks great. God, it's good to see ya. Mom sends her regards, and she sent a box of baking along, as well."

  He wrapped his arms around her in another exuberant hug and lifted her again, swinging her around.

  She squealed and laughed in spite of herself at his ebullient good nature. No one could stay down for long around David—he had a little-boy innocence and charm that was captivating, as about half the women in Vancouver could attest to. Some of the tension inside her eased, and her smile suddenly felt more natural.

  "So where's The Man? Off chasing bad guys?" He pretended to draw firearms from an invisible holster.

  "Horses, the last I heard. He'll be here at supper time. Come and help me carry the beer in. It should still be cold."

  "Wow, you shop right, sis. I've been fantasizing about cold beer the last two hundred miles. Let's grab a couple and go for a swim. Hey, I just can't believe this place—it's next thing to paradise. Is the water warm?"

  "Not bad. Refreshing, I'd say."

  "Liquid ice, huh?"

  "Two degrees off."

  They laughed together, and she showed David the downstairs bedroom and located bedding for him. While he brought his things in, she left a message at the office for Cam, telling him David had arrived, and then she changed into her bikini.

  For the next hour, they swam and chatted and relaxed in the sunshine, and although they discussed Wade and the problems he was having, gossiped about mutual acquaintances in Vancouver and laughed at Pavarotti's futile efforts to catch birds on the shoreline, there was still a hurting part of Alex that felt as though it were on hold, waiting, always waiting, for Cameron. The devastating quarrel with King, the empty, endless frustrating day she'd just spent was still there just under the surface, and she needed Cam to help her exorcise it.

  He arrived at last, laden with paper bags filled with cardboard containers of food and an immense bucket of rice. Alex watched as the brothers embrac
ed, pounding each other on the shoulder and exchanging friendly insults.

  Again she thought of Wade, and a lump rose in her throat, remembering the way he used to hug her so hard her ribs ached. Now he wouldn't even speak to her on the telephone.

  "You going for a swim before we eat, Cameron?"

  At her question, he turned to her, taking her into his arms and planting a quick, sexy kiss on her mouth, and she snaked her arms around his lean middle, taking comfort at least in his physical presence.

  But he shook his head at swimming. "I have to eat and go back to the office. Gotta catch up on my paperwork so Greg knows what's going on when he comes on shift tomorrow morning."

  "But you'll be back later, won't you? Not too late?" She tried to keep the plaintive entreaty out of her voice and didn't entirely succeed, but Cameron didn't seem to even notice. When had he stopped picking up the small signals they'd always used to communicate things they couldn't say?

  "I could be quite a while. Don't wait up for me, honey."

  Don't wait up for me? How many times had he said that this past week? She felt her temper rising. "I had a few problems at work I wanted to talk over with you, Cam."

  "You been butting heads with old Doc King right off the bat?" He shook his head and grinned as if the idea were amusing. "I've met him. He's a pompous old guy, isn't he? Is he upset with you over Jason?"

  "Something like that." With David right there, she couldn't bring herself to relate the humiliating details of her scene with King the way she needed to do.

  "Well, just be patient. He's been the head honcho here since you and I were in diapers. It'll probably take time for him to accept you, honey."

  Be patient? She glanced at David and swallowed the furious retort that sprang to her lips. Wong, Cameron. You're dead wrong. He'll never accept me—and you don't even have time to hear about it.

  They trooped up to the house and ate, and still Alex waited for an opportunity to have a private word with Cameron. It didn't come. As soon as the meal was over, David said, "Hey, Cam, c'mon out and have a look at the relic. There's a knock in the engine I can't seem to locate."