"Should I have just gone to the drug store and given them syrup of ipecac?" Edith asked.
"No," Sabrina told her. "Vomiting can make any abnormal heart rhythms worse, which is why in cases of digoxin poisonings we often do a procedure called a lavage where we rinse out their stomach contents with fluids. Then we give activated charcoal to adsorb any of the drug that may have gotten into the bowel."
"Oh."
When Adrian walked in as she finished her treatment overview, her surprised heart skipped a beat.
"What do we have?" he asked in the calm, quiet voice she remembered so well and had tried so hard to forget.
Wondering if he'd skipped out on his orientation class, she shoved her question aside to answer his. "Corey and Casey ingested a number of their grandmother's digoxin pills about thirty minutes ago." She glanced at Edith for confirmation and received it. "So far, they aren't showing any cardiac symptoms."
"And you're sure they swallowed them."
"I only have five left in my bottle," Edith interjected.
He turned to the two youngsters. "What were you boys doing?" he asked, while Sabrina worked in the background to retrieve the necessary supplies from the cupboards and shamelessly eavesdropped on his conversation with his little patients.
"Playin' doctor," the eldest said, his gaze intent on the stethoscope hanging from Adrian's pocket. "Are you a real one?"
Adrian smiled. "I am. And what did you do when you were playing doctor?"
"Corey here…" he glanced at his brother "…was pretendin' to have his arm broke and his throat hurt. I was goin' to give him a shot." He pulled a toy syringe from his pocket. "But he started to cry. So I told him I'd give him pills like Mommy sometimes takes." Casey's lower lip turned into a pout. "I wanted to give him liquid in the alligator spoon like Mama uses, but Grandma doesn't have a spoon like that and her juice was all gone."
Edith gasped in the corner and Sabrina saw Adrian fight a smile at the boy's petulant tone.
"I'll bet the pills you found tasted nasty," he commiserated.
Corey shook his head. "Nope."
Sabrina exchanged a glance with Adrian. Digoxin tablets were tiny but, if chewed, were bitter. She couldn't imagine the boys gobbling them up and from the expression on Adrian's face he couldn't either.
"Then how did they taste?" he coaxed.
"Like apple sauce," Corey answered.
Once again, Edith moaned in the background, shook her head and covered her eyes.
"Apple sauce?" Adrian asked, clearly surprised.
Casey stared at him as if the man who towered over them should know that. "Mama puts pills in apple sauce, so that's what I did with the cups Grandma gave us for our snack."
"How many did you put in the cups?" Adrian pressed.
Corey held up two fingers. "Eleventeen."
The twinkle in Adrian's eye belied his serious expression. "That many," he said.
"I would have put more in, but Corey dropped the bottle and the pills rolled out. We tried to pick them up, but they were so tiny we just pushed them down the hole in the floor where the air comes out."
"The floor vent?"
"Yeah." Casey studied his shoe. "We didn't want Grandma to know we lost her pills 'cos she'd get mad at us."
"I see. How many went down the floor vent?" he asked. "A few or a lot?"
"Only a few."
"Did you eat any of the apple sauce, Casey?" Adrian asked.
"Not when I was the doctor. Doctors only give out medicine." He stared at Adrian as if he should know that.
"Did Corey pretend to be the doctor, too?" he asked.
Casey nodded. "My pills tasted like apple sauce, too."
Adrian turned to Sabrina. "It's hard to guess how many they ate and how many disappeared into the ductwork," he said wryly, "but we can't assume anything. Call in reinforcements so we can get started. I also want a baseline basic chemistry panel and digoxin levels on both boys."
A gastric lavage was the next step and with two patients they needed twice the number of hands. While Adrian explained the procedure of inserting a gastric tube into each boy's stomach in order to rinse out the contents, Sabrina recruited Dr Beth and Hilary to help.
Corey and Casey's blood samples were drawn and stomach contents flushed out until four of the missing twenty-five pills were accounted for—three from Corey and one from Casey—and the returned fluid ran clear.
Without a way to prove they'd removed all the medication, Sabrina administered activated charcoal, which the boys deemed "nasty" and refused to drink until Adrian warned them he'd insert the tubes again. Amid much gagging and misery, they complied. A laxative came next, which they downed most unhappily. While the two looked quite pathetic in their miniature hospital gowns as they waited dejectedly for the medication to send them to the toilet, Adrian called for the lab results and watched their heart monitors closely.
She'd expected him to pop in and out of the room, but he never left. He talked with the boys about television shows and the books their parents read. She was surprised to hear him recount the adventures of The Berenstein Bears and Clifford, the Big Red Dog as easily as he discussed cardiac arrhythmias. And when Casey began to retch, Adrian was there with a basin.
"Hey, now, buddy," he said as he patted the boy's shoulder. "I know this isn't fun, but it will be OK. I promise."
From Sabrina's position, she saw Casey's gaze meet Adrian's and an encouraging smile settled the deal. The youngster relaxed and all was well. From then on, whenever the children started to panic, he held hands, patted heads and shoulders, rubbed backs and told the occasional knock-knock joke to coax a smile.
The children kept him in their sights, as if he were their savior.
For a moment she pictured Adrian bouncing Jeremy on his knee, tickling his toes, and cradling him in his strong, capable arms. Until now, she'd justified her decision to keep her son's presence a secret, but years from now, when Jeremy asked about his father, would time prove her reasons to have been selfish? She'd ponder that question when she had a private moment.
Finally, she administered the digitalis-specific antidote. "Do you want to send them upstairs to Peds so they can monitor their drug and potassium levels?"
"I really think we flushed out their systems enough to avoid any problems, so if we have the bed space, let's keep them here for the next few hours," he said. And they did.
It didn't take long for the boys to get bored with only their grandma for company. When the latest lab results yielded numbers in the normal range, Adrian agreed to send them home.
"No more pills when you play doctor, OK?" he told the two sternly.
Both bobbed their heads.
"We don't want those tubes down our throats again," Casey assured him.
"Good decision. It wasn't fun, was it?"
"No. When I'm a real doctor, I can give pills, though, can't I?"
Adrian ruffled his hair. "You bet, but not until then."
Edith clasped his hand. "Oh, thank you for everything."
He smiled. "Just doing my job, but after meeting those two, I think yours is harder than mine."
She laughed. "Casey's definitely too smart for his own good, but trust me. I'll keep them on a short leash now."
After restoring the treatment room to rights, Sabrina's shift ended. As she headed for the exit, Adrian fell into step beside her. "Going home?"
"Yes," she said, feeling a little guilty for not admitting she was stopping by the hospital day care first.
"Do you have plans for dinner?"
She almost chuckled. Leftover tuna casserole and heating Jeremy's baby food didn't come close to the concept of "plans". Yet she knew where his question was leading. "I'm not interested in going out or having company."
"What about tomorrow night? I'll take you to dinner."
She shook her head. "Sorry."
"Thursday."
"I don't think so."
He frowned, clearly frustrated by her lack of coop
eration. "You can't ignore me for ever, Bree."
"Oh, yes, I can," she retorted, meeting his gaze with a steely-eyed one of her own. "I learned how from a master. Goodnight, Adrian."
Unfortunately, as she reflected on the successes of the day, his kindness and concern for the two inquisitive and rambunctious boys gave her second thoughts about Adrian's request. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the picture of Adrian stroking Corey's hair or wiping the tears on Casey's face out of her mind. Was she doing the right thing by not telling him about Jeremy? Could she live with her decision?
On the other hand, and perhaps more importantly, could she share her son with a man she didn't trust? Considering how important family was to him, would he fight for custody, or would he decide he didn't have time for a son and leave the two of them alone?
She hoped for the latter because the possibility of losing her little boy was too frightening, too untenable to imagine, which was why she'd hadn't planned to inform him about Jeremy until he was at least eighteen. Unfortunately, with Adrian underfoot, she couldn't hide Jeremy's existence for more than a day or two. A conspiracy of silence involving all the hospital staff would never last for Adrian's tenure. Her only option was to break the news under her own terms.
As she reached the automatic doors, she realized that spewing caustic and bitter remarks just might make him defensive enough to fight her for custody on principle alone. Being congenial might go a long way to convince him to cooperate with her. She simply couldn't afford to antagonize him.
Resigned to being more amicable, she pivoted in his direction and tried to talk herself out of her impulsive decision.
He hadn't moved from the spot. She still could have stopped herself, but the bleak expression in his eyes melted the final strands of her resistance. She only hoped she could live with the consequences of what she was about to do.
"Friday," she said, aware that after he visited her house her life would change again. "You can come over on Friday."
His smile slowly grew wide, then he nodded. "Friday it is."
CHAPTER THREE
ADRIAN returned to the nurses' station with a definite spring in his step and a jaunty whistle on his lips. He'd survived his first day on the job with Sabrina and the day had gone far better than he'd hoped for or expected. Other than her obvious disdain when they'd been alone, they'd functioned as a cohesive medical team. Sheepishly, he admitted that he should have known she was a professional through and through, that she wouldn't be so petty as to allow their personal conflicts to interfere with the job.
In any case, come Friday evening, he'd find out if she was happy and had adjusted to her life. As much as he'd hated to let her go, knowing that his sacrifice hadn't been in vain would go a long way toward helping him find closure.
Hilary glanced up from her computer monitor. "You're in an especially jovial mood all of a sudden."
He smiled broadly. If the staff at Mercy Memorial had seen him, they would have wondered if he'd finally snapped. He hadn't earned the moniker of The Doctor To Avoid At All Costs by being a friendly sort over the past year. Now, being one step closer to mending his fences made him feel like the old Adrian McReynolds when everything in his life had been running as smoothly as well-maintained diagnostic equipment.
"I am," he admitted before he lowered his voice to a for-her-ears-only volume. "I have a date. With Sabrina."
Hilary stared at him as if he'd just sprouted an extra eye in the middle of his forehead. "You don't say."
"Yeah. Friday night."
"Wow. I'm impressed."
He was puzzled. "Why?"
"Because she doesn't date."
"She doesn't?" he said, wondering how the guy Sabrina had met last night after leaving him in his lonely hospital bed had fallen beneath her colleagues' radar.
Hilary shook her head. "Not that I've ever heard and, believe me, if she did, the news would travel faster than instant messaging."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely." She studied him closely. "You must have done something right if she accepted your invitation."
Actually, he'd done everything wrong, but the details weren't for Hilary's ears.
"I, for one, am glad she's finally willing to do something just for herself," Hilary continued. "She's a sweet girl and considering everything she's been through, there isn't a person in this hospital who doesn't want to see her happy."
Everything she's been through? What was Hilary talking about? Had she been ill? Could that explain her frail appearance, the tired circles under her eyes? It had been easier to think she'd simply moved away without incident. To hear otherwise would only drive a few more nails into his guilty conscience, but curiosity drove him to ask and caution warned him to brace himself for bad news.
"What has she gone through?"
"She's had a tough time since she got here, so if you cause her grief, you'll have a lot of folks who won't take kindly to you," Hilary continued, apparently choosing not to share specifics, which frustrated him to no end.
"I don't intend to cause problems."
"Good, because she doesn't need any right now."
Somehow, he felt as if he was missing an important piece of the puzzle, but he let that topic slide. "Are you certain she isn't seeing anyone? I could have sworn she'd mentioned something last night about meeting a guy." Someone she loved dearly, he recalled rather morosely, although he didn't know why the idea pained him when he'd wanted her to find a deserving fellow.
Hilary laughed. "She says that a lot to keep men away."
Hope sprang in his chest. "So there isn't a fellow in her life?"
She eyed him carefully. "By 'fellow', I assume you mean 'romantic interest'. If she did, she wouldn't have agreed to go out with you."
He grinned sheepishly. "I guess not." As it wouldn't hurt to ensure she didn't change her mind before their date on Friday, sending flowers might be a point in his favor. "By the way, she forgot to mention her address. Do you know where she lives?"
Apparently Hilary thought he was trustworthy, because she rattled off the location. "I can't remember the exact number, but she's in the housing development at the corner of Madison and Poplar. She has several potted plants on the front porch and a ladybug windsock hanging from the eaves. You can't miss it."
"Thanks."
Although he was eager to find a florist, duty tethered him to his post for another hour. Finally, after he'd completed his notes, he handed off the last patient—thirty-four-year-old Alan Cavendish who'd come in complaining of intense headaches, dizziness and nausea—to his evening shift replacement. Cavendish was already on his way to Radiology for an MRI and his blood tests were in progress. Dr Lehrer assured him he could handle the case from here, so Adrian gratefully left the hospital.
Driving down Central Avenue, he passed a grocery store sign that advertised a bakery, a hot food buffet, and a floral department. A quick decision sent him veering out of traffic into the parking lot. A few minutes later, he stood in front of the refrigerated case, studied the arrangements and debated between fresh flowers or potted daisies or carnations, a single bud or a bouquet. In the end, he asked the clerk for a dozen roses in assorted colors.
Impatient to see the look on Sabrina's face, he chose to deliver them now rather than wait until later in the evening. With luck, he might coax her into joining him for dinner tonight after all.
After punching the intersection Hilary had mentioned into his car's GPS system, he followed the directions. Five minutes later, the disembodied female voice announced he'd reached his destination.
However, as he gazed at the shabby duplex surrounded by several other equally shabby duplexes, he was certain he'd come to the wrong place. The peeling paint, sagging shutters, and yard that boasted more weeds and bare dirt than grass all testified that this was a low-income housing complex. He could only imagine what the inside looked like. Surely Sabrina hadn't moved here, had she? Nurses were paid well these days and he knew of her
obsession with creating a nest egg for that proverbial rainy day.
If she lived here, her rainy day had clearly come and gone.
But rainy day or not, the ladybug wind sock that Hilary had described hung in full view above a potted plant. This was definitely Sabrina's place.
Determined not to judge by outward appearances, he strolled up the walk and knocked on the door. After a long minute without a response, he raised his hand to pound again when suddenly the door swung wide.
"Sorry to take so long," she said breathlessly, but her smile soon died as she remained framed in the entrance.
He'd expected to see her alone, not with a gurgling baby on her hip. Immediately his dinner plans evaporated. "Hi," he said inanely.
"Adrian," she said, her eyes wide. "What are you doing here?"
He held out the roses. "After everything you did for me yesterday, I thought flowers were in order."
"Ah, thanks."
"Your hands are full," he said smoothly. "Why don't I bring them inside and help you put them in water?"
"Now isn't a good time," she began.
"Don't worry. I left my white gloves at home," he quipped, knowing how she hated visitors when her house wasn't spotless.
"Truly. I'm not prepared for visitors. Thanks for the flowers, though."
He should have left then and there, but he discovered that he couldn't. Seeing her in a pair of cut-offs and T-shirt with her hair loose and feet bare was a real reminder of the Sabrina he'd once known so well.
The baby on her hip began babbling, as if trying to talk, and Adrian stalled his exit for another minute. "Cute kid. From his blue romper, I assume he's a boy. What's his name?"
"Jeremy."
He tickled a spot under Jeremy's chin and elicited a hearty laugh. "So you're babysitting tonight."
She paused. "No. Jeremy is…"
Adrian glanced at her expectantly. "Jeremy is…what?"
"He's mine."
Words temporarily failed him as his head spun. "Yours? You have a baby?"
His Baby Bombshell Page 5
