The Nurse And The Single Dad

“So, other than being threatened into coming, how did such a loner get himself here tonight?”

“By sheer will. It’s an important event and, while I don’t understand how my presence here makes much of a difference one way or another, I do know that the hospital needs all the support it can get. So I came.”

“Kicking and screaming?” She laughed.

“Not so much. But I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t protest a little bit.” He glanced down at the chicken cordon bleu; it actually looked good. Better than anything he fixed. His cooking nowadays consisted of whatever Maddie would eat, which didn’t include a wide variety of anything. He’d mastered spaghetti and meatballs, or “sketti,” as Maddie called it. His fridge was stocked with strawberry yogurt and there was always peanut butter. She’d eat a grilled-cheese sandwich, pizza and chicken nuggets, too. Most everything else was a struggle, so as often as not he found it easier to give in to his daughter’s limited culinary preferences. A couple times a month, though, Abby would invite him to stay for dinner when he went to pick up Maddie, and those were the times when he got to break away from his cooking doldrums. It was nice to eat the occasional adult meal, and this meal in front of him now certainly qualified as an adult meal. After his first couple bites of the chicken, he sighed. It didn’t disappoint.

“So I take it you don’t get out much,” she stated before she popped a forkful of the tomato salad into her mouth.

“With Maddie I do. On my days off. I don’t want her growing up sheltered or...well...like me. You know...crowd-hater. As much as it works for me, I see how it can be limiting, and I don’t want that for her. So I make it a point of taking her out somewhere every chance I get. Of course, I think she’s in it for the pizza she always gets afterward.”

“Maybe she’s in it because she likes spending time with her daddy.”

“That would be nice to think, but her daddy is a little stricter than Maddie likes.”

“That’s a daddy’s job.”

“Elizabeth was the soft one. Like her mother, she didn’t have the heart to refuse Maddie anything. Which put me in the position of having to be the bad guy, the one who said no, the one who enforced the discipline that Elizabeth couldn’t enforce.”

“I can’t imagine someone as young as Maddie needs much discipline.”

Daniel chuckled. “I can tell you haven’t been around kids very much. Three’s precisely the age when a child needs discipline. It’s a learning experience for them. Teach them young, and maybe you won’t have to come down so hard on them when they’re older.”

“In other words, you’re an ogre.”

“That’s a question you need to ask Maddie. She has a very distinct opinion on a whole list of subjects, and I happen to be at the top of her list.”

“Then she’s headstrong.” Zoey scooped a pat of butter off the butter plate and spread it on a roll. “Taking after her daddy, of course.”

“You think I’m headstrong?”

“I don’t know you well enough to form an opinion, but my instincts tell me yes.”

“I’ll admit it. I’m headstrong...as headstrong as you are blunt.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You intend to be blunt?”

“I’ve practiced being blunt.” Her eyes gleamed with laughter. “It’s an acquired skill that I’ve worked on over time.”

“Let me guess. You used to be shy and retiring.”

“Something like that.”

“Hard to imagine,” he mumbled as he forked up a spear of asparagus.

He regarded her for a moment as she chewed a piece of her dinner roll. Bluntness became her. She wore it well because she wasn’t rude about it. More like, she was practical or matter-of-fact. She made an observation and was honest when she called it out. He couldn’t fault her for that. Couldn’t fault anyone who didn’t skirt around the truth.

“More like hard to overcome,” she stated after she’d swallowed. “I was always reserved and quiet when I was young. Not so much an introvert like you, but always under my mother’s thumb. She’s pretty domineering and I was the recipient of that dominance. But, in her defense, I think she was that way because it was difficult for her to raise me alone and that was her way of making sure I was being taken care of.”

“Do you still have a relationship with her?”

“A pretty good one, actually. She worries about me, but the way she expresses that worry is more like...well...nagging.” Zoey laughed. “Sometimes it gets frustrating, but I’m used to it.”

“And your father?”

“He split when I was a baby. Didn’t want the responsibility of raising a kid, even though later on he got remarried and raised another family. And never had anything to do with me.”

“Not even child support?”

“Not even child support, which my mother could have used, since she worked three jobs off and on to support us.”

“So why’d he turn his back on you?”

“Who knows? Maybe guilt? Maybe he never wanted his second wife to know that he had a daughter from another marriage. I mean, I can worry myself to death over what caused him to do what he did, or I can think of all my mother did for me and be grateful she was strong enough to give me a good life.”

“It was rough, though, wasn’t it?”

“It was. But we got along. Anyway, Elizabeth said your parents live in Florida...?”

“In a condo on the beach. Living in grand style and loving the retired life.”

“Do you see them often?”

“I haven’t been down there for years, but they manage to visit Maddie and me about once every two or three months.” He had a good relationship with them. Talked to them via the Internet every few days, mostly so Maddie could keep in touch with them and have a visual reminder of what they looked like. Emailed them occasionally, texted every once in a while when something interesting popped into his mind and snail-mailed pictures that Maddie would draw for them. All in all, he was closer to his parents now than he’d been years ago, when he’d still lived at home.

And it was a good thing, as Damien had practically dropped off the face of the earth in his newest venture. Sure, he snuck into civilization every now and again to hit up a computer for an Internet chat. He emailed whenever he could. Also, he called when he was near a cell tower. In fact, Damien even went so far as writing an occasional letter—short, to the point, often lacking in detail, but always welcome. Being in a remote jungle in Costa Rica might have hampered communication with his twin, but it didn’t cut them off.

Daniel thought back to those very bleak days when Elizabeth had been deteriorating rapidly. He’d told his twin how he was feeling, how he was doing, how he was coping, and Damien had dropped everything to rush to his side to help him through it. It was such a relief to have him there—the closeness of twins couldn’t be overexaggerated.

Sighing, as he thought back on those times, Daniel recalled how grateful he’d been to his brother for the support, and now he often caught himself wishing they could live closer together. Of course, Damien was happy in his life, where he was, doing what he was doing, and that was good. What made Damien happy made Daniel happy, as well.

* * *

Zoey was enjoying the antics of the comedian on stage who touted his credentials as a couple of late-night television appearances as well as his very own special on a comedy channel. A couple of his jokes had her laughing so hard she hurt.

“He’s good,” she said, nudging Daniel. She looked over at him to gauge whether or not he was enjoying the entertainment, but she found it difficult to tell as he had a polite, fixed smile on his face.

“He is,” Daniel agreed, his facial expression remaining flat.

“But you’re not laughing.” She wondered what, if anything, ever struck his funny bone, or was he serious all the time?

“Laughing on the inside,” he said.

“Which is no laugh at all.” Elizabeth had talked to Zoey about her fears for Daniel, one being the way he drew in on himself. Was he doing that now? Feeling guilty for having fun without her?

“It’s the best I can do. I’ve never cared that much for comedians.”

Zoey sighed out loud and tried to refocus her attention to the act.

“What?” he prodded.

“Nothing,” she said, biting back her response, as what Daniel did or didn’t do was truly none of her business.

“I know what follows that kind of sigh. Elizabeth was the master of the provoked sigh, and I’ve had a fair share of them directed at me. So let me have it.”

“It’s not my place.”

“It is if I invite you in.”

“Don’t invite me in. You might be sorry.”

“Why? Because you’re blunt?”

She tossed him a tight-lipped smile. “Something like that.”

“I’m a big boy, Zoey. I can take it.”

“But we’re not really friends. Just passing acquaintances.”

“We could remedy that.”

“How?”

“Coffee later on. Something one-on-one.”

That caught her off-guard. She didn’t think he was asking her for a date, especially after what she’d told him about her dating life. Yet, whatever his intentions were, she was hesitant to be part of them. He scared her. Filled her with mixed feelings, as she could almost picture herself together with him. But there was always that one, huge drawback, wasn’t there? First her father, then Brad... The men in her life had never worked out and she often wondered if her history was doomed to repeat itself. “Sounds nice, but I’ve got an early morning ahead of me, and it takes me quite a while to go to sleep. So, unfortunately, I think I’ll have to pass.”

“Suit yourself. But at least tell me what the sigh was about.”

“Suit yourself.” She glanced up at the stage in time to see the comedian take his final bow and disappear from the stage. “You’re here in body but nothing else, and I have a hunch you won’t allow yourself to have any real fun. That guy was a riot and you never cracked your fake smile.”

He paused before he spoke and frowned. “Elizabeth used to say the same thing about me—that I don’t know how to have fun.”

“You wouldn’t know fun if it came up and bit you on the backside.”

Before he had time to reply, one of the speakers appeared on stage and waved as the audience greeted him with thunderous applause. He was the CEO of the hospital, and Zoey assumed this was where he would make his pitch for donations. She looked over at Daniel and smiled. “Guess this cuts our conversation short,” she said, leaning over so he could hear her. “But keep in mind that having fun is...fun. You should try it sometime.”

He nodded in response and relaxed back into his chair, folding his hands on the table in front of him as if he was getting ready to take in every word of the upcoming speech. Zoey didn’t buy that for a minute, though. Daniel had tuned out the room, the speakers, and probably even her, and he was transfixed in his own little world now. His eyes glowed a distant stare and she suddenly felt sorry for him.

He kept his life so compact that he didn’t know how to open himself up to other possibilities. For another woman he might certainly be a worthy project, but for her, well, she wasn’t getting involved any more than she already was. The last thing she needed in her life was any kind of a relationship that called upon her for a fix. And a relationship of any sort with Daniel would definitely require some fixing.

Not that she didn’t have issues of her own. Because she did. But she had to solve those first before she brought anybody else into her circle.

Ten minutes into a speech that touted all the high points in the workings of a busy hospital, Zoey leaned over to Daniel and whispered in his ear, “So you think his speech will last much longer?” She wasn’t exactly bored with it, but this was definitely not the high point of her evening.

Daniel laughed out loud and drew the scowling attention of the entire table. “I think he’s probably winding down. But, if he’s not, now would be a good time for you to send me to the bar to get you a drink,” he replied. “Go with me and we can both slip out the side door.”

“What, and miss the dancing afterward? You do dance, don’t you?”

“Only under the table after a couple of double Scotches. Remember?”

So he did have a sense of humor! In spite of herself, she laughed aloud. “I’ll take a glass of white wine.”

“Large?” he asked, arching his eyebrows at her.

“Bring the whole bottle if you can.”

“The offer of coffee still stands.”

“So does my excuse for not going.”

“Ah, there you go, being blunt again.”

The older lady straight across from Daniel shushed him, causing Zoey to giggle. It wasn’t the shushing so much as the incongruity of her appearance compared to Daniel’s. He was decked out in a finely tailored tux while she wore a pink, non-formal floral dress with a large, flowery hat. She had champagne-colored hair and a sour squint to her eyes—a squint she was aiming straight at Daniel.

“Maybe bring her a drink, too,” Zoey whispered. “She looks like she needs one.”

Daniel pushed back from the table and arose to all his six-feet-plus glory. He was a good-looking man. Actually, downright handsome. Someone to swoon over. And the sour lady across from him nearly melted in her chair when Daniel turned a charming smile on her and nodded.

Damn, he had a way about him.

“I’ll be back,” he said, leaning down to whisper in Zoey’s ear. “No escaping. Promise.”

She’d never doubted that for a moment. Perhaps Daniel hadn’t wanted to come tonight but he was, if nothing else, dutiful. She’d seen that in his devotion during some very rough times with Elizabeth, and she saw that now, as he endured something he hated.

Maybe she should have accepted his invitation to coffee.

“No!” she said aloud to herself. He might have some attributes she admired, but admiration from afar was all she was going to allow herself.

CHAPTER THREE

DAMN! HE’D HOPED for a better result, but the lab tests only confirmed what he already suspected: Mr. Baumgartner had a long, rocky road ahead of him, with a questionable outcome at the end of it. His diagnosis: congestive heart failure—when the heart muscle quit pumping the blood adequately and fluid backed up in the lungs and chest cavity. Treated properly, it could be managed over an extended period of time. Left untreated, it was fatal. As for Mr. Baumgartner, it was too soon to tell what would happen to him. His case now was critical. Simply put, he’d waited too long for treatment and, as of this moment, he was dying. But Daniel hoped that could be reversed.

Daniel hated telling his patients bad news; it was the worst part about being a doctor. But bad news was everywhere, and it wasn’t like he didn’t have his fair share of cheery results, because he did. Every day. On that brighter note, however, Baumgartner was going home to adjust to the drastic changes he’d need to make in order to stay alive, and that was the best Daniel could hope for.

“Zoey,” he said into his smart phone. “It’s Daniel Caldwell.”

“Daniel. How are you?”

She sounded excited to hear him. Almost animated. He counted back the days and realized they hadn’t seen each other, nor had they talked, in nearly a month, but he’d thought about her. Oh, had he thought about her! Thought about calling her and hadn’t been able to find a reason to click her number into his cell phone. Thought about dropping into the coffee shop some afternoon, but hadn’t found a plausible excuse for wandering in at that particular time when she knew that wasn’t part of his regular schedule. “I’m fine. Hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“I’m with a patient right now, but that’s OK. She’s watching TV, and she’d rather not be disturbed when her shows are on. So I’m checking her meds, counting them to make sure she’s taken what she was supposed to and calling in prescription refills. Which means, now’s a good time.”

Something was pulling at Daniel to turn this into a social call, but the practical side of him dredged up the last time he’d asked her out to coffee. She’d refused. Turned him down colder than cold. Twice, actually, off one invitation. So he knew better than to veer off the professional path with her lest he returned with hat in hand. “Well, this won’t take long. I need a professional favor.”

“Name it,” she said cheerfully.

“I have a patient, Horace Baumgartner, who needs to go into hospice care, and I’ll be dismissing him from the hospital day after tomorrow. Is this something you can help me with?”

“Sure. Just give me the details so I can figure out what we need to do.”

“Well, going home is what he wants, and I can’t see any reason to deny him. He’s still pretty active, though weak, and I don’t think keeping him in an in-patient situation is advisable because I’m holding out some hope that we can reverse his course. I think the emotional boost he’ll get from being at home will benefit him in the long run.”

“What’s his diagnosis?”

“Congestive heart failure, end stage. If he’s diligent, we may get to keep him around for longer than what his condition dictates right now, but he’s going to have to be willing to make some drastic changes to his life.”

“Let me guess. He doesn’t want to make changes.”

“He’s nice, but he’s stubborn. What can I say?”

“Say that his unwillingness to cooperate is going to kill him. So, how bad is he?”

“Right now, bad. Blood chemistries are off, heart’s only working at half its capacity, lungs are filling up with fluid, kidneys are sluggish, extremities are swollen.”

“Well, it sounds like somebody’s got his work cut out for him, trying to motivate the fellow. Anyway, call my office and schedule an appointment for Mr. Baumgartner to meet one of the hospice nurses. Talk to Sally, the office manager, and she’ll get you started in the right direction. She coordinates all our hospice efforts, and makes the nursing and therapy assignments.”

“I could do that, but I thought that maybe you...” Who was he kidding? He’d wanted an excuse—any excuse—to call her, to hear her voice. “You know... I thought I could cut corners by calling you directly.”

“I can make the referral for you, but you’ll still have to write the orders and send them over to the office.”

He knew that, of course. But he also knew that he liked talking to Zoey on any pretense. “I’ll do that later today. Can I suggest you as Mr. Baumgartner’s nurse, though? I’ve seen you work, and I know how good you are. And I want my patient to have the best.”

“Are you trying to flatter me, Daniel?”

“Maybe a little. But what I said is true. You’re the best, and that’s why I want you on the case.”

“Well, you can suggest me, and as long as the office approves, which I’m fairly certain they will, since I’ve only just had an opening come up in my schedule. So, go ahead and name a time to meet with him in the hospital, and I’ll make the arrangements on this side of it.”

“Any time you’re free works for me.”

“Shouldn’t we be going by your schedule?” she asked him.

“My schedule is probably more flexible than yours, seeing how you have specific appointment times for your patients. It changes about fifty times a day depending on what’s going on and I’m always at liberty to make those changes if necessary. So is later today good for you, or will tomorrow work better?” Was he going to ask her out to coffee again, or leave well enough alone? Actually, he didn’t know. The practical side of him kept telling him to keep it strictly professional. But there was this little voice—a nagging little voice—that was taunting him to jump on in and try again. Did he want to date, though? Or was this more about making a connection to someone who’d touched Elizabeth’s life in such a personal way? A last desperate attempt to hold on to something he’d lost?

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.