Doctor, Mummy...Wife?

“Does it hurt or itch?” she asked him.

“He scratches it like crazy,” Sam’s mother answered as Sam’s eyes filled with big, fat tears.

“When did it start?”

“Three days ago?”

“What happened three days ago that changed his routine?”

“Nothing except...we went picking pumpkins in the pumpkin patch for Halloween. He’s not allergic to pumpkins, is he?”

“You’ve had pumpkins in your house before?”

“Every year,” the mother replied.

“And what about the pumpkin patch?”

“This was our first year to go.”

“I’m betting the rash is connected to the pumpkin plant.”

“He’s allergic to the plant?”

“Has there been anything else new introduced in his life since the rash popped up?”

“Not that I can think of,” the mother answered, a frown on her face indicating she was thinking. “No new food, no new clothes, my laundry detergent hasn’t changed.”

“Then for now, let’s go on the assumption that he has an allergy to the actual pumpkin plant and if the rash doesn’t clear up in a few days or it comes back we’ll investigate other possibilities and take some tests. For now, I’d rather save him the trouble, though. So, any of the over-the-counter hydrocortisone creams will help with the rash, and I’m going to give him a shot today that should speed things along.”

She looked down at Sam, who looked back at her with big, sad eyes. “Will it hurt?” he asked.

“A little bit, but you’re a big boy and you can take it.” In reality Sam was only five and at an age where needles really scared kids. Some people never outgrew the phobia and she didn’t want to make this too traumatic on this poor child. “Anyway, let me go get you some ointment samples, and have the shot prepared, and I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

True to her word, Del appeared back in Sam’s room a few minutes later with a syringe full of antihistamine and a bag full of samples. Once she’d convinced Sam the needle wouldn’t hurt that much, she gave him the injection, and wrote down instructions for his mother to follow, including the antihistamine to be taken three times a day in small doses. “This should clear up in about three days,” she told Sam’s mother on the way out. “If it doesn’t, call me. In fact, call me either way because I’m curious if he is allergic to pumpkin vines. That’s kind of an odd allergy...”

Actually, nothing in the allergy world was odd. People had reactions to everything—to the expected as well as the unexpected, as in Sam’s case.

* * *

Her first day back dragged. She couldn’t get herself into the rhythm to save her soul. And between her hourly calls to check on Charlie and her work she was ready to go home by noon. But she’d just have to understand that this was the way it was. She loved her baby and she worried. Although, by the time her fourth call rolled around, she was sure the child center over at Lakeside was probably sick of her calling. So she vowed to not call after she took her lunch hour with Charlie. Which turned out to be around one o’clock.

“Momma missed you,” she said, picking him up and kissing him, then walking around the room with him.

“Am I being a nuisance?” she asked Mrs. Rogers, the director.

“Pretty much, yes,” she answered, smiling. “But the first few weeks aren’t easy. So we’re pretty forgiving.”

“I miss him, and it’s all I can do to keep from coming over here, getting him and taking him home.”

“You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last,” Mrs. Rogers replied. She was an older woman, short gray hair, and a registered nurse, retired.

No one could have better credentials or more experience with children, and Del considered herself lucky that they’d had an opening for Charlie, as the child center was usually booked months in advance. As it turned out, she’d reserved a spot even before he was born in the anticipation of returning to work and the timeline had worked out perfectly.

Del sighed heavily as Charlie snuggled into her and dozed off. “It’s amazing the way they can change a life so drastically, isn’t it?”

Mrs. Rogers laughed. “Too bad we can’t keep them all young and innocent, the way he is now. But if we did we wouldn’t get grandbabies, and I’ve got to tell you there’s a certain sense of satisfaction in being a grandmother.”

“How many grandkids do you have?” Del asked her as she laid Charlie back down in the crib.

“Five, so far. One on the way.”

“That’s awesome,” Del replied.

“What about your parents?”

“Grandparents in absentia. They live in Costa Rica and travel back every couple of months to spoil Charlie.”

“No husband?”

Del shook her head. “By design it’s just the two of us.”

“I admire a woman who knows what she wants and goes out and gets it.”

“And I admire you for taking such good care of all these children.”

“My assistants and I love children, and, since we’re all retired pediatric nurses, it’s a good way to still stay involved.”

Del smiled as she kissed her sleeping Prince Charming goodbye and returned to her clinic, feeling much more relieved than she had only an hour ago. In fact, this was the first time she thought it might actually work out, working full-time instead of part-time as well as being a full-time mom. At least, there was room for optimism in the scenario now. For which she was glad because she loved her work with a passion.

* * *

“Little Tommy Whitsett is here,” Rochelle said to Simon as he left an exam room where the child had a blueberry stuck up his nose. “I think it’s another case of nursemaid’s elbow.” Where a quick tug of a toddler’s arm oftentimes resulted in partial dislocation of an elbow ligament. In Tommy’s case it was a chronic condition, one caused when his older brother tugged a little too hard on Tommy’s arm, causing the ligament to snap out like a rubber band and not reset properly. It was typical of toddlers and Tommy would most likely outgrow the tendency in another year or two, but until then there was nothing really fixable as it wasn’t a serious injury. And the fix was easy. One gentle pop usually set the ligament right back where it belonged. Tommy got his lollipop and went home to have other wrestling matches with his brother.

“Have him shown to Room Three,” Simon said, and joined Tommy there a moment later. This was the third time he’d seen the child for the same injury in the past couple of months.

“I’m sorry this keeps happening, Doctor,” his poor, red-faced mother said. “But when they get to playing...” She shrugged.

“No big deal. He’ll outgrow this eventually, and that will be that.”

“But I feel so foolish coming in here so often. I’m afraid it might look to some like I’m an abusive parent.”

Admittedly, at one time Simon had wondered if Tommy’s handling at home was too rough, but he had a different attitude now that he’d met the cause face-to-face—a much bigger, sturdier brother—and witnessed the worry in Tommy’s mother’s face. “Boys will be boys. You just happen to have one who’s a little more elastic than the other one ever was. No big deal. Maybe have a word with his big brother to try and persuade him pulling his brother’s arm isn’t such a great idea.”

“I have tried, Doctor. It always scares me.”

“A lot of mothers get petrified if their child coughs or sneezes. That’s the proof of parenthood, I guess.”

“You’re not a parent, are you, Doctor?” she asked him.

He hesitated for a minute, then shook his head. “Haven’t had that opportunity yet.” If ever again.

“Well, it’s not easy.”

He thought back to Del and recalled the strain on her face at simply leaving her baby behind in a safe environment. Maybe he should have more empathy for her, going through separation anxiety as she was. But he found that difficult as he didn’t know how to show it for someone who’d made deliberate choices. Like Yvette, who’d pulled Amy out of his life altogether. He’d been the only father the child had known, albeit he was the stepfather. Then when his ex-wife met someone else, his feelings for Amy didn’t matter. So he was understandably still bitter and some of his personal reactions still reflected that. “You’re right. It’s not easy,” he said to Tommy’s mother.

“I guess,” Tommy’s mother said. “But I wish it was sometimes.”

“Parenting is never easy. It makes us realize just how powerless we are in so many situations. And I know you hate that vulnerability, but in your case you’ve got two fine, healthy sons and at the end of the day that’s quite an accomplishment.”

“Let me tell you a secret, Doctor. There’s never an end to the day. Parenting is so hard, and it never stops.”

“And you love it, don’t you?”

“Except for when I have to bring Tommy in for another case of nursemaid’s elbow.” She smiled. “But I wouldn’t change a thing.”

* * *

“Challenging case, Dr. Carson?” Simon asked after he walked Tommy and his mother back to the waiting room.

“If I thought you were interested because you were really interested, I might answer that question, but somehow I think you’ll snipe at me for taking the easy cases today since you’re so distracted, so all I’ll tell you is that we divide them as they come in and leave it at that.”

“That’s right. I’m not a partner. Just a lowly employee. I’m not privy to the inner workings of what goes on around here.”

“You’re causing a scene over a case of pinkeye?”

“You’re treating pinkeye, I’m treating a kid with possible asthma. Are you going to tell me it all evens out?”

“I’m sorry for your diagnosis,” she said sympathetically. “And if you’d rather not...”

“It’s not that I’d rather not. But what I was wondering is if we get to pick and choose our cases or if we just get them according to what’s up next, and who our established patients are.”

“If you’re trying to insult me, I have thick skin, Doctor.”

“Not trying to insult you, Doctor. Just trying to figure things out now that you’re back.”

“Well, figure this out. It’s a fair system. I don’t take all the easy cases and assign the tougher cases to my colleagues. You were treating an easy case of nursemaid’s elbow when I was treating a little girl with Erb’s palsy. Unless a patient requests a specific doctor we take whoever’s up next, regardless of the easiness or severity of their condition.” She bit her tongue to hold the rest in but didn’t do a very good job of it because the rest slipped out. She knew this had to be tough on Simon, working in basically a new situation, especially with his credentials. “Trust me—it’s fair.”

“It’s always good to know my standing.”

“Sure it is. You got stuck in a jammed-up clinic when I was gone and you’re blaming me for it. So now you want some answers. Can’t say that I blame you. Reverse the situation and I’d be asking the same questions.”

* * *

Simon kicked off his shoes and set his mug of coffee next to the sofa. Sighing, he popped an old classic movie into his DVD player then dropped down on the couch with his bowl of cold cereal, contented to spend the evening vegetating.

He’d gotten off to a rough start with Del and, to be honest, was surprised she hadn’t fired him on the spot. There really was no excuse for his questions, especially when he knew the answers. But he’d been in the mood to antagonize someone and Del had seemed to be it.

The thing was, he’d called to talk to Amy this morning and was told by her latest stepfather that he had no rights to the girl any longer, to please not call back or he’d be served with a restraining order. Damn! He missed her. Red hair and freckles, with a little gap between her front teeth—sometimes he swore he’d stayed married to her mother just because Amy was so endearing. But that was obviously over and now he wasn’t even allowed to talk to her any more. It hurt. It stung to the bone because he missed Amy with all his heart. Didn’t know how he was going to get along without her. And Del, well...she’d just caught some of his fallout. Wrong place, wrong time and with a child who was making her so happy—happy the way he’d used to be.

Well, one thing was for sure. He’d never, ever get involved with a woman who already had a child. It just opened him up to getting hurt again.

In the meantime, he owed Del a big apology for being so confrontational over everything today. She didn’t deserve it just because she’d had a child.

He owed her an apology and it wouldn’t keep until tomorrow. He opened his clinic information packet and found her cell-phone number. On impulse, he dialed.

“Hello,” she answered, almost in a whisper.

“Del, this is Simon Michaels.”

“And?”

“I may have been a little harsh with you today.”

“Not so I noticed,” she lied. “It was a tough day for everybody.”

“Still, I wasn’t myself and I’m calling to apologize.”

“No need. I wasn’t at my best, either, this being my first day back and all. Look, you woke up my baby. I’ve got to go. Can I call you back?”

“No need for that. I just wanted to apologize.”

“Thanks, Simon,” she said, and with that she hung up on him. And he actually chuckled. She was interesting, to say the least. Definitely her own woman marching to her own beat.

CHAPTER TWO

“HE’S NOT VERY pleasant at times,” Del said to Charlie as she gave him his nightly bath. “On the verge of rude and insulting. Then he calls and apologizes. Like what’s that all about?” Although he did exude a general sexiness about him, which was nothing she was going to admit out loud. Even when brooding he was sexy and she wondered, for a moment, what kind of social life he had going for himself. “It’s none of my business,” she told Charlie. “And I want you to point that out to me every time I have a straying thought about the man. OK? He’s handsome and has the ability to be charming, but that’s as much as I want to notice.”

The baby’s response was to splash around in the water and giggle.

“I’m not sure why my partners would have chosen him, except for the fact that he’s a good doctor, but that was their decision, not mine. And his credentials are good. At least he’s licensed here in Chicago, which saved a little bit of hassle. But that attitude...I’ve got to tell you, Charlie, you’re not going to grow up to be a man like he is, who goes back and forth. I’ll swear by all that I know as a doctor and what I’m learning as a mother that you’re going to have manners and respect.” Yeah, until he was an adult; then he could do anything he wanted, which scared her because somewhere there was probably a mother who’d said the same thing to her baby Simon. And look at the way he’d turned out. “I suppose a mother can only do so much,” she said as she pulled Charlie out of the baby bath and wrapped him in a towel. “But I’m going to teach you anyway and keep my fingers crossed I don’t go wrong somewhere.” Not to imply that Simon’s mother had gone wrong. Because Simon did have manners and just a touch of arrogance to offset them.

“Now, let’s get you dressed and I’ll read you a story. How about the one with the giraffe, tonight?” Sure, it was all in her mind but she thought that was Charlie’s favorite story. Of course, any story might have been his favorite, as he seemed delighted by everything she read him, including pages from a medical journal she’d read aloud to him one evening when she was trying to catch up on her own reading. It was the mother-child bond that mattered, the one she’d missed all day today while she’d been at work.

But on the other hand, work had had its number of fulfilling moments, too, and it was good getting back. She was still plagued with guilty feelings, though. Those weren’t going to go away, and she could foresee the time when the conflicts would become even greater, such as when Charlie learned to walk, or started talking. She didn’t want to miss those things, but it was conceivable he might say his first word to Mrs. Rogers or take his first step when she wasn’t around to see it. Sacrifices. Yes, there were definite sacrifices to be made, and she could feel them tugging at her heart. But she was still drawn to being a pediatrician, and while she felt guilty about working she felt no guilt at all about the work she did. It would have been nice, though, to have that proverbial cake and eat it, too.

Well, that wasn’t going to happen. She had a child to support now and her savings, while sufficient, weren’t enough to carry her through until he went to college. So off to work, get over the guilt. She supposed in time it would lessen, but her preference would always be to be there for her son.

“Once upon a time, there was a giraffe named George, who was shorter than all the other giraffes in the jungle. ‘Why can’t I be tall like my mother?’ he asked.” This is where Del tickled Charlie’s tummy with a stuffed giraffe. “‘Why can’t I be tall like my daddy?’” She tickled Charlie’s tummy again and took such delight in watching him laugh and reach out to hold his giraffe. “‘Why can’t I be tall like my brother...?’” And so the story went, until Charlie usually wore himself out and went to sleep. Which was the case tonight. He dozed off before the end of the story, clinging to his stuffed giraffe, and she tucked him into his crib, crept out and made sure the night-light was on for when he woke up later as she hated the idea of her child waking up in total darkness and being afraid.

Afterward, Del fixed herself a cup of hot tea and settled down on the couch to catch up on some reading, but she was distracted by her cellphone, which she’d set to vibrate now that Charlie was down. She’d been awfully rude to Simon and for no reason other than Charlie couldn’t wait a minute or two—which he could have since he hadn’t been crying for her. She’d set a bad example for Charlie even if he was too young to understand that. But there would come a time when he would and she dreaded that day. So in the end, she picked up her phone and made that call.

“Simon,” she said when he answered. “This is Del.”

“Let me guess. You want me to go in tonight.”

“You caught me at a bad time earlier,” she said.

“Apparently.”

“Look, I had just got my baby to calm down and go to sleep after his first day away from me, and you disturbed him. You’re not a parent, so you wouldn’t understand,” she said.

“No, I’m not a parent,” he answered, then sighed so loud into the phone she heard it.

“Well, you couldn’t understand what I’m talking about, but I like my evenings undisturbed.”

“Which is why you’ve begged off call for the next six months.”

“It was a compromise. Originally I was going to take off a whole year to stay home with Charlie, but that didn’t work out so I decided to come back during the days so long as I have my evenings and nights to myself.”

“Not that it’s any of my business.”

“Look, Simon. I called to apologize for being so rude. We got off to a bad start and when you called to apologize I wasn’t in the frame of mind to deal with it.”

“Guilty-mother syndrome?”

“Something like that.”

“I understand children, Del, but I don’t even pretend to understand their parents.”

“You would if you were a parent.”

“Well, thank God I’m not. My marriage was hell and it makes me queasy thinking we could have easily brought a child into it.”

“So you’re divorced.”

“Blessedly so.”

“Sorry it didn’t work out. Is that why you hate women?”

“Who says I hate women?”

“Your scowl, every time I looked at you today.”

“Well, I don’t hate women. I’m just...wary.”

“Sorry you feel that way. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know I’m sorry I was abrupt with you on the phone earlier. Normally I silence my phone so I won’t be disturbed, and people who know me know when to call and when not to call.”

“I didn’t get the memo,” he said.

“Then I’ll make it simple. Evenings are my time unless it’s an emergency. That’s the memo.” He was impossible and she was already dreading working with him. But what was done was done. He was hired, the partners were happy with him and he was a hard worker. Everyone in the office shouted his praises, so it had to be her. He rubbed her the wrong way, or the other way around. Anyway, her feelings for the man were no reason to give him grief, so before she hung up the phone she made a silent vow to tolerate him in the office. If he did his job and she did hers there’d hardly be any time to socialize anyway.

“So, as I was saying, I’m sorry for being so abrupt and it won’t happen again.”

“Let’s call it a professional standoff and leave it at that.”

“Professional, yes, of course. But that’s all. And just so you’ll know, you don’t even have to acknowledge me in passing if you don’t want to.”

“Wouldn’t that look unfriendly?” he asked.

“Maybe. But who’s going to notice.”

“Everybody.” He laughed. “Are you afraid of me?”

“No, not really. I’m just not in the mood to have a man in my life—especially one I’ll be working closely with.”

“You formed that opinion of me after one day?”

“I form fast opinions.”

“You must. But just so you know, I don’t hate you and I don’t even dislike you. I got off to a bad start this morning because of some personal matters and it carried over. But it has nothing to do with you.” He smiled gently. “In fact, I’ve felt bad all day for the way we got started.”

“You did?” she asked.

“I’m not usually quite so abrupt.”

“Neither am I.”

They both laughed.

“So tomorrow maybe we get off on a better foot?” she asked.

“Well, now that that’s settled, let me be the one to hang up this time.” With that he clicked off.

* * *

Her second and third days at work went a little better than her first, but she still missed Charlie so badly. Her situation with Simon didn’t improve, though. She tried being friendlier, and he reciprocated, not in an out-and-out way but at least in a friendlier manner. Still, to Del their relationship felt distanced. Cordial but not particularly friendly. And somehow she had the impression it didn’t have anything to do with her. At least she hoped it didn’t because she wanted them to be just a touch more than cordial.

It was the fifth day when he actually greeted her with some hospitality. “Would you mind taking over a case for me?”

“Symptoms?”

“First, he’s four years and his mother admitted to some pretty heavy drinking during pregnancy.”

“So let me list some symptoms for you. Poor impulse control, poor personal boundaries, poor anger management, stubbornness, intrusive behavior, too friendly with strangers, poor daily living skills, developmental delays—attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder, confusion under pressure, poor abstract skills, difficulty distinguishing between fantasy and reality, slower cognitive processing. Stop me when I hit five of these.”

“You hit five of the symptoms a long time ago.”

“So you know what it is?”

He nodded. “But you’re the expert in treatment for FAS.”

“I’ll be glad to take a look and get started with a plan, but you do realize that most treatments respond best to behavioral therapy. Poor thing’s going to be saddled with a disability for his entire life.”

“Well, you’re the best one for the job,” he admitted.

That took her by surprise. “Thank you. I appreciate the compliment,” she said, almost stumbling over her words.

“Look, is there any chance we could start over...again?”

“Maybe,” she said, hiding a smile. She liked this side of him and she was glad she was finally going to coax it out of him, if for no other reason than a better working relationship. “Is the mother or father more responsive now?”

“Child’s under protective service. He has a foster family who really cares.”

“That’s a step in the right direction.”

“Anyway, I told them we have an expert on staff so I’m leaving it up to you to schedule them in. I slid the note with his file reference under your office door.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” she said.