A Face in the Crowd

by Christina Kirby

  Cathy plucked it out of her outstretched hand and blotted the spot on her shirt. “Are you still here? Don’t you have work to do?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Again, I’m so sorry.”

  Lexie escaped without looking back at Oliver, but she could hear him before the door finished closing.

  “Come on, Mom, there was no need to be rude. I think you can afford the dry cleaning bill.”

  “Your brother is in the hospital to receive medical care, not so that another little star struck girl can stand around swooning over the two of you.”

  Face burning, Lexie took off down the hall. What had she been thinking? His mother was right. They had girls throwing themselves all over them, all the time. She was no different in their eyes and what made it worse was that she knew better. She had a job to do and she was good at it, dammit. She needed to let go of whatever silly fantasies she had cooked up about Oliver Honeycutt. He would be there for a little while and then he would be gone. Back to his life in L.A. and his many adoring fans and girlfriends.

  Chapter 7

  Back in his brother’s room, Oliver studied his calloused fingers while he let his mind wander. There was something about Lexie . . . and it was more than simple attraction. Over the course of his life he’d seen and spent time with more than a few beautiful women, but none had captivated him in quite the same way.

  His mom reentered the room, wearing a new long-sleeved T-shirt sporting the hospital’s logo. “I swear.” She sat down next to Bailey and shot a scathing look at the new addition to her wardrobe. “We can’t get out of here soon enough.”

  “Relax, Mom. It was just a shirt.”

  Bailey grinned, “And, you have about a million of them.”

  Oliver suppressed a smile when his brother pretended to faint by placing the back of his hand to his forehead and mock swooning behind their mom’s back.

  “Be that as it may, these people seem borderline incompetent and I will not leave your brother’s health in the hands of a silly fangirl.”

  “Lexie is hardly a fangirl. In fact, she works hard and seems to be pretty damn good at her job.” Surprised by not only the heat in his tone, but also the sudden urge to defend Lexie, Oliver blew out a breath.

  “Dude,” Bailey offered by way of support.

  Cathy cocked one of her eyebrows. “Oliver, this is not the time for you to indulge in some kind of flirtation.”

  He let his head fall back against the chair. “For the love of Christ, Mother. That’s not what’s going on.”

  “Mom, leave the guy alone. He needs to do something other than sit around my room and take up space.” Bailey smirked. “If he wants to hook up with Sexy Lexie, who are we to stop him?”

  “Bailey, please.”

  Oliver raised his head and held his arms up in surrender. “Can we drop this?”

  “Certainly.” Cathy cleared her throat and folded her hands in her lap. “I almost forgot, Michelle called. She was very concerned about you.”

  Ah yes, Michelle. His ex-girlfriend. The latest model in a string of other model-wannabe-actresses who tended to bore him in a matter of weeks.

  “That was nice of her,” he offered as he bit into a croissant.

  “You should call her back. I’m sure she would love to hear from you,” his mom eyed him over the brim of her coffee cup. He made a non-committal noise. “I’m serious, Oliver. She was a sweet girl, and beautiful.”

  “Good riddance, I say,” Bailey shook his head.

  “Why the sudden push for Michelle? I never thought you cared for her one way or the other,” he set his breakfast to the side and met her eyes.

  “I just don’t want to see you going through this alone.” Her eyes turned red with unshed tears and she turned to take Bailey’s hand. “Either of you.”

  “You don’t need to worry,” Bailey cupped his other hand on top of their mother’s. “The guys have been here every day and we have you.”

  “I know, but it’s not the same as having someone to love.” She touched Bailey’s cheek. “I want my boys to be happy.” The first tear slid down her cheek. “I want you both to have the lives you deserve. I never want you to feel lonely, and in this place . . .”

  The dam broke and nearly set off the wave of emotion Oliver had been working to hold back since learning his brother’s diagnosis. The rare display from his mother was difficult to endure, but also a relief. His feelings about his brother’s diagnosis mirrored his mother’s and now he understood why she was acting the way she was. She was ferocious when it came to family, but she wasn’t mean.

  “I’m never alone, Mom.” Bailey smiled. “This is the most peace I’ve had in a decade.”

  “Being alone is not the same as being lonely.” His mom knew that to be true more than most. She had rarely dated anyone when they were growing up and when the band took off, she devoted most of her time to them.

  “I’m fine. We’re fine. And, after we get through this, life will go back to being as hectic as usual.”

  She returned his smile through her tears. “My strong sons. When did you two get so grown up?”

  Bailey stroked his chin and Oliver didn’t miss the mischievous glint that appeared in his eyes. “It must’ve been after the night we spent in jail in Taiwan. Prison really does change a man.”

  “Bailey!”

  Lexie breezed into Bailey’s room and tried to ignore the little flutter in the pit of her stomach at the sight of Oliver. “Hi, Bailey. How’re you feeling today? Hanging in there?”

  He was sitting up with his legs dangling over the side of his bed. “I’m doing okay.”

  Lexie nodded toward the acoustic guitar in his hands. “Have you guys been hard at work?”

  Oliver tapped the edge of a pad of paper resting on his lap. “We were just fooling around. Trying to grab some inspiration while it lasted.”

  “Where’s Cathy?”

  “Don’t worry,” Oliver smirked, “she went back to the house for a few minutes.”

  Relief and annoyance converged inside Lexie. She hated how easily she’d let Cathy ruffle her and how obvious it must’ve been. She was usually much better with family members. “How’s the song writing coming?”

  “I think we found one that’ll work.” Oliver raised his arms and folded his hands behind his head. The motion showed off his biceps and the line of skin between his jeans and his gray T-shirt.

  Lexie’s stomach muscles jumped in response.

  “So,” Bailey set his guitar down and laid back in the bed. “What kind of torture do you have in store for me this afternoon?”

  Lexie breathed a silent sigh of relief at the distraction. “I need you to pee in a cup.”

  “How about not?”

  “Well, if you want to make it difficult, I could always get a catheter and do it myself.”

  “I bet you’d like that.” Bailey wriggled his eyebrows at her, which from someone else might’ve annoyed her, but she knew it was just Bailey being Bailey. Humor was his way of dealing with the unpleasantness of the situation.

  “I bet you wouldn’t, you haven’t seen the size of the needle.”

  He blanched and she smiled as she walked around to the far side of his bed to change out one of his IV bags with a new round of chemo. As she turned to go, a clump of hair on his pillow caught her attention. It was beginning.

  He followed her gaze toward the pillow and his smile vanished. His usual joviality faded as the reality of what was coming set in. She’d seen it before in a thousand other patients, but it never got easier. Her heart ached for him as she reached for the hair and threw it in the trash. Bailey just kept staring at the spot where it had been.

  “Bailey,” she said as gently as possible, “You knew this was going to happen. It’s just a side effect of the medic
ine. It won’t last forever.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I know,” his voice was quiet. “I’m really tired. Are you done for now?”

  She nodded.

  Oliver, who’d watched their exchange from the chair, remained quiet.

  “Hey, Olie, you should get out of here, too. I’m going to rest for a while.” Bailey laid his head back and closed his eyes.

  “Okay,” Oliver stood, a crease formed between his eyes as he looked at his brother. “I’ll be back in later.”

  After they stepped out into the hall, Oliver stopped and leaned against it, head down. She glanced in both directions and then laid gentle fingers on his bicep. “He’s okay. His reaction is perfectly normal. It just takes time.”

  “Rationally, I know you’re right, but I hate seeing him like this.” Oliver met her eyes. “I wanted to say it’s just hair, but I know that’s not what was bothering him. Hell, he’s shaved his head half a dozen times over the course of his life. He doesn’t care.”

  “A lot of times this is what it takes for the patient to grasp the situation—that first tangible sign. The nausea can be controlled fairly well with anti-nausea medication, so in some ways the sickness doesn’t seem real until the hair loss begins.”

  She hated it for him and wanted to put her arms around him and tell him it would all be fine, but of course, that was out of the question. A door opened and closed down the hallway. Lexie let her hand drop and stepped back.

  “I have to go check on my other patients. You should grab some food or call the other guys. Bailey just needs some time.”

  “Yeah,” Oliver ran a hand through his hair, “You’re right. Thanks, Lexie.”

  She nodded and watched him walk away, shoulders hunched under the weight of helplessness. Her chest ached at the sight. When the elevator door slid closed between them, she shook her head reminding herself, she needed to pull back. She was starting to care too much. The fine line between attachment and giving comfort was a thin one and one she was in serious danger of crossing.

  She walked down the hall and into one of her other patient’s rooms. Dorothy was an elderly woman who had had Leukemia when she was young and now it was back. Lexie hated to see someone as old as she was fighting what was going to be a losing battle. If it ever happened to her, she would not lay in a hospital being poisoned and waiting to die. She would cash in her 401k and travel for as long as she could.

  “Good afternoon, Dorothy. I’m going to check you over. How’re you feeling?”

  “About the same,” Dorothy’s voice was quiet like her room. Her daughter visited often and when she wasn’t there, Dorothy read, but she never turned on the television or listened to music.

  The phone in Lexie’s pocket vibrated. She administered more pain medication to Dorothy, took her vitals, and finished up before glancing at the screen and sighing. Never a dull moment.

  She pushed her cart back to its resting place until she would need it again and went to the desk. Janice, Ashley’s sister, was standing behind it looking harried. “Lexie, where have you been?”

  “I was with a patient. What’s up?”

  “You need to get down to Mr. Callahan’s room. He’s been calling up here every five seconds.”

  Lexie knew he must’ve been driving everyone nuts if Janice had bothered coming out of her office. She was like her sister in that way. She could not be bothered by patients.

  “What’s the situation?”

  “How would I know?” Janice snapped.

  Lexie bit her tongue and made her way to Mr. Callahan’s room. There were days Janice made her want to scream. Her bad attitude was normal, but as Lexie considered the patients surrounding her and their families and what they were going through, it made it hard to excuse Janice’s behavior.

  Lexie exhaled and knocked on Mr. Callahan’s door, “Hey, Mr. Callahan, what can I get for you?”

  He was one of their frequent flyers and had a tendency to run the nurses rampant with excessive requests while he was admitted. He always needed ice, tissues, a pencil, or whatever else he could come up with, but he never asked for them all at once. She smiled ready to play runner, but noted his complexion was pale.

  “My chest,” he paused to take in a labored breath, “it hurts.”

  She snapped to attention and after a quick assessment, determined he was in distress. “I need the rapid response team in room 409.”

  A minute later, they surged into the room and administered several labs and tests’, confirming Mr. Callahan was suffering from a heart attack.

  “You called,” Ashley met her at the door looking less than thrilled.

  “I’m going to be stuck here with Mr. Callahan for a while and I need blood to be drawn from my other two patients.”

  “I don’t see why you can’t take care of your patients.”

  “Mr. Callahan is one of my patients and he needs me right now. Could you please help me out on this one? Besides,” Lexie lowered her voice as though speaking to a trusted confidant, “Mr. Honeycutt is one of the patients I need you to visit.”

  Ashley’s attitude brightened.

  “Oh, well, I guess I could do that for you. There’s only two.”

  “Exactly,” Lexie mentally counted to ten. It was either that or throttle her.

  If Mr. Callahan was needy before, this new level of demanding behavior would be classified as what—complete dependence? He was nearly impossible for the rest of the afternoon, even with all the drugs in his system. Lexie’s feet ached by the end of the shift. Counting in her head, she calculated she hadn’t sat down in the last seven hours. And, the growls vibrating up from her stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten lunch. This job was going to kill her.

  When Mr. Callahan finally let out a light snore, Lexie quietly made her way out of his room and breathed a sigh of relief. She was ready to put this particular day behind her.

  Her feet dragged as she made her way down to Bailey’s room. What she wanted was to sit down and take a break, but it had been hours since she’d been by to check on Bailey. Not that she had any doubts Ashley had made her services available in her absence.

  When she arrived, she was surprised to find Bailey’s mood unchanged. In fact, based on the way his head lay limp against the pillow and the hard look in his eyes, it was worse. In his current state, he was closer to a resigned broken man than the crowd pleaser he usually was.

  “Where have you been all day?”

  She took a deep breath, willing to give a little leeway where his attitude was concerned. “With another patient who had some complications. How’re you doing?”

  “How am I doing? Are you kidding me with that?” He sat up, chest heaving, eyes wild. “I have f-ing cancer. How the hell do you think I’m doing?”

  Reality had set in. Her heart broke for him.

  “What can I do for you right now? What would make you feel better? Just tell me and I will try to help.”

  “No one can help me. Don’t you understand? I’m weak and sick and pathetic,” he shoved his rolling table with enough force to knock it into the opposite wall.

  Lexie moved to retrieve the table while Bailey continued to rant.

  “I’ve let fans down, the band. I’m just sitting here wasting away while things fall through the cracks.”

  “No one feels let down.”

  “How would you know? You don’t know anything about me or my life.”

  “I know your fans care about you and I know your bandmates care about you.” She gripped the end of the bed and stared him in the eyes. “This isn’t your fault. People get sick.”

  “I don’t. I’m young and I take care of myself. This shouldn’t have happened.”

  “It isn’t a matter or should or shouldn’t.” In contrast to his, she kept her voice low, forcing him
to listen. “Cancer doesn’t discriminate. I see old people, young people, every race, every ethnicity. And, unlike so many others, you have a good chance of beating this thing.”

  He looked at her, then, as though he were seeing her for the first time. His chest continued to rise and fall, but slowed as his breaths became more even. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked and he dropped his chin to his chest. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

  “It’s fine. People have said worse to me before.” She took a step toward him. “May I?” she gestured toward the bed next to him.

  “Sure.”

  “Listen, Bailey, I know you didn’t ask me what I think, but I’m going to tell you anyway. You need to own this. All of it. You need to use your usual flirty, crazy attitude and face it head on. Share with your fans on Twitter or the band’s website. Let them show you how much they care. Don’t hide out in here waiting for the worst to happen.

  “Let your band members help you. Shave your head and take control. Write music while you’re here. Use your time away to your advantage as best as you can. Keeping your mind sharp will not only help you, but think of all the new music you’ll have when you break out of here.” She paused and took a breath. “You will beat this.”

  He raised his face to meet her eyes. “Do you really think so?”

  “I do and I’m very smart.”

  His expression softened as the hint of a smile returned. “I feel I’m inclined to agree with you on that point.”

  “Good. Now, let’s start over.” Lexie stood. “How are you feeling, Bailey?”

  “Better, actually.” He nodded. “Thanks for that.”

  “You’re welcome. I have to go now, but I’ll be back.” She started for the door and paused. “Own it, Bailey.” She walked out of the room and almost ran right into his mother. Again. “Excuse me. I’m so sorry.”