NYC Angels: Unmasking Dr. Serious

“I’m going to fall,” Josh whined. “Don’t let me go or I’ll fall!”

“I won’t let you go, Josh, I promise,” Molly assured him. “Just try and stand here for a little bit.”

After another ten seconds she let him sit back down in the chair. Dan watched intently so that he could practice this at home with Josh.

“Good job,” she praised his son. “Did you play any games with your dad last night?”

Josh nodded. “Yep, we played the ball game before dinner. It was fun. And I have a new tutor, too. His name is Mitch. I like him way better than Mr. Iverson.” Josh screwed up his face in an apparent attempt to mimic the stern tutor.

Molly’s lips twitched as she fought a smile, but when she lifted her gaze over Josh’s head to meet his, Dan could see frank approval reflected in her gaze. And despite the fact he shouldn’t care what she thought of him, he was secretly glad to have earned her favor.

The session went on, with more games that she dragged him into playing, and he was thrilled to notice that Josh was able to move his legs a little better today when Molly instructed him to kick the ball between his feet.

When she ended Josh’s session with another massage and the ultrasound treatment, he couldn’t help voicing his concern. “What exactly is the purpose of doing the ultrasound on his legs for eight minutes? I don’t see what good it can possibly do for him.”

She arched a brow, as she continued providing the treatment. “These are very intense ultrasound waves that are focused directly on the injured muscles. They help increase blood flow, which in turn helps to reduce pain and swelling,” she said patiently, as if speaking to a first-year medical student.

“Really?” He frowned, trying to work through the pathophysiology of what she described. “And ultrasound waves are safe and harmless?”

“Definitely safe and harmless,” she agreed. “But that doesn’t mean they don’t have helpful properties, as well. I also wanted to mention that you shouldn’t let Josh overdo the games at home. What you did yesterday was perfect. An hour in the evening is enough so that Josh doesn’t overwork his injured muscles. We wouldn’t want him to suffer from muscle spasms.”

He nodded, unwilling to admit how much he’d wanted to push Josh into playing her therapy games for longer than he had. Not because he wanted Josh to overwork his injured muscles but because he desperately wanted to see his son walk again.

Patience was a virtue, he reminded himself. Although having patience while performing heart surgery was far easier than having patience with his son struggling to learn how to stand and walk.

When she’d finished the ultrasound therapy, she handed Josh the candy jar, and this time it didn’t take him long to choose a cherry-flavored lollipop. Dan figured that by the time they’d completed the initial twelve weeks of therapy, his son would have tried every flavor several times over.

“Okay, Josh, I’m going to talk to your dad again for a few minutes,” Molly said as she put the candy jar away. “Wait here and I’ll help you get into your wheelchair when I return.”

Josh nodded, the skin around his lips already stained red from the cherry sucker.

Dan followed Molly’s petite frame back to her office, trying not to imagine what her figure looked like beneath the baggy scrubs.

“Dr. Morris—” she began, but he quickly interrupted her.

“I asked you to call me Dan,” he reminded. “I’ll be attending therapy with Josh because I’m his father, not because I’m a surgeon here at Angel’s.”

“Ah, okay, Dan, then,” she murmured. She paused, as if she’d lost her train of thought, and he took a moment to savor the way she’d said his name. For the first time in six years he preferred hearing his first name to his formal title.

“I want you to consider getting a wheelchair, too,” she said.

He blinked, and tried to gather his scattered thoughts. “You mean one for Josh to use here as well as the one he’ll use at home?”

“No, I mean one for you to use specially while we’re working together with Josh.” She tilted her chin in a gesture he already knew meant that this was a topic she felt strongly about. “Josh needs you to be a role model for him. And he needs to learn how to get in and out of it by himself. I think he would find that easier to do if you were learning alongside him.”

Was she crazy? He’d never heard anything more ridiculous. What good would it do for him to be in a wheelchair, too? “I appreciate your advice but I don’t see the need to get myself a wheelchair.”

“Dr. Morris—Dan,” she corrected swiftly, “You don’t have the option to refuse. You have to stop questioning everything I do or suggest. Like the ultrasound treatments, and now getting a wheelchair of your own. For years you referred your pediatric patients to me, but now suddenly you’re acting as if I have no clue what I’m doing. Why can’t you believe I only have your son’s best interests at heart?”

“I do believe that,” he said slowly. He forced himself to meet her emerald-green gaze. “It’s just …” He trailed off, unable to find the words to express how he felt. Because she was right. He was acting as if she didn’t have a clue what she was doing. Just because he wasn’t an expert in physical therapy, it didn’t mean she wasn’t. He had to trust her expertise and knowledge.

But getting a wheelchair of his own seemed over the top. He wasn’t the one who’d been injured.

Yet it was his fault that Josh had been.

He swallowed against the hard lump of the bitter truth. Did it matter if he felt stupid using a wheelchair? Wasn’t Josh’s recovery worth it?

“Look, we need to settle this now, before we go any further in treating Josh because if you can’t or won’t trust me, there’s no point in us continuing.”

Her last sentence made him scowl. “Are you threatening me?”

“It’s not a threat. I’m only telling you that you either heed my advice and do what I say as it relates to Josh’s therapy, or you find someone else to work with.” She shrugged, as if she didn’t care what he would decide to do. “I’m not the only therapist here, there are many others equally qualified.”

He clenched his jaw, unable to believe she was actually handing him an ultimatum. He couldn’t help it that it was his nature to question things. To make sure he understood what was going on.

“A good therapist-patient relationship is the key to success. Maybe I’m not the best fit for you,” she said, when he didn’t respond.

“But you are the best fit for my son.” The moment he’d uttered the words, he knew they were true. Molly had a way with children, and it was obvious that Josh was already anxious to please her. Not to mention none of the other therapists had her amazing outcomes.

He’d tolerate whatever she decreed in order to help Josh. “I’ll accept your terms,” he said, roughly shoving his ego aside. “I’ll get a wheelchair so Josh and I can learn how to use them together. And I promise not to question your methods from this point forward. I’ll place my son’s care in your capable hands.”

She stared at him for a few seconds, as if struggling to see inside his mind, to believe he actually meant what he’d said. He didn’t know what else to say, to help her understand how he’d meant every word seriously. Nothing was going to get in the way of Josh’s ability to learn how to walk again.

Nothing!

If Molly Shriver had been hoping to get rid of him, she would be sorely disappointed. He was in this for the long haul. For Josh’s sake.

No matter what.

CHAPTER FOUR

MOLLY WAS SECRETLY relieved that Josh’s father hadn’t decided to move his son’s care to another therapist. Remembering how she’d issued her ultimatum made her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Once again she’d allowed her redhead temper to get the better of her. Why on earth did Dan Morris bring out the worst in her?

She took a deep breath and tried to prepare herself for their upcoming appointment. If she was smart, she would have insisted Josh be assigned to someone else. Emotionally, it would be better for her, as the young boy was already wiggling his way into her heart. And once he didn’t need her anymore, he’d take a piece of her with him, leaving a tiny hole behind.

But somehow her instinct for self-preservation seemed to have abandoned her. Because it wasn’t just Josh she was beginning to care about.

His stern-faced father was even more intriguing.

Watching the two of them navigating their wheelchairs in the gym had given her a deep sense of satisfaction. The proud and hopeful expression on Dan’s face when Josh successfully transferred himself from the wheelchair to the therapy table and back again had been heartbreaking. It was clear how much he cared for his son. And she had to give Dan credit for keeping his promise. He hadn’t questioned her or interfered in her treatment plan in the past two days.

Today was Friday, their last session before the weekend. She had a surprise for Josh, and hoped his father wouldn’t revert back to his old ways. She’d learned as the week had progressed that Dan did better with structure rather than impulsiveness. Maybe that’s what made him such a good cardiothoracic surgeon.

That was too bad. She worked better by following her instincts. And today her instinct was to get outside and have some fun. Especially on this unseasonably warm day in early March. Why stay inside when the temperature was in the fifties and the sun was shining?

When she was paged by the front desk to let her know that Josh and his father had arrived, she picked up her jacket and the red plastic ball before heading out to the waiting room to greet them.

“Good morning, Josh, Dan.” Calling Josh’s father by his first name was getting easier. In fact, he was looking less and less like the strait-laced cardiothoracic surgeon who’d shown up here four days ago. Especially dressed in his well-worn jeans and Yankee sweatshirt that only enhanced his broad shoulders.

“Hi, Molly,” Josh greeted her enthusiastically from his wheelchair. “We’re ready for therapy, right, Dad?”

“Right,” Dan agreed with a rare smile. He looked surprisingly comfortable seated in the adult wheelchair alongside his son.

“I’m glad, especially as I have a surprise for both of you.” She fought a smile as Dan immediately tensed up. Heaven forbid she plan a surprise. “We’re going on a little field trip to Central Park!”

“We are?” Dan said with a frown. “That seems too far out of the way for an hour of therapy.”

“The patient who was scheduled to see me after Josh cancelled so we have two hours free. Most of the snow has melted and as it’s a beautiful day, we may as well enjoy the sunshine.” She could tell he wasn’t thrilled with the idea. “Come on, we’ll have fun.”

Dan opened his mouth as if to argue, but then closed it again without saying a word.

“Yippee!” Josh said with exuberance. “I love field trips!”

She grinned, relieved to see her patient was happy with the idea. And because Dan had promised not to question her motives, he couldn’t very well disagree.

She walked alongside Josh as he wheeled his chair back down the hall toward the elevator. Dan followed in his own wheelchair right behind them, and while he didn’t utter a single word of complaint, she could feel his displeasure radiating off him.

She sighed, hoping he wasn’t regretting their bargain, because if he switched therapists now, Josh would certainly suffer.

Thankfully, Josh kept up a steady stream of chatter as they made their way outside. The sun was warm, but the air still held a hint of coolness as winter slowly gave way to spring, perfect weather for Josh and Dan, who’d be exerting themselves in order to use their wheelchairs.

The park was just a couple of blocks down from the hospital so it didn’t take long to get there. The hardest part of the trip was navigating around the people crowding the sidewalks. Good ole New Yorkers, couldn’t move over to give two people in wheelchairs room to maneuver.

They reached the south end of the park and followed the sidewalk inside. “Okay, Josh, you have to find us a good place to play ball,” she instructed him.

“How about right over there?” he suggested a few minutes later, pointing to a relatively isolated grassy area.

“Perfect,” she murmured. “Do you need help going over the grass?”

“I can do it,” Josh said, his face intent as he exerted extra pressure to wheel himself over the bumpy terrain. Dan followed his son’s example, even though he remained unusually quiet.

She plopped down on a park bench and tossed the ball up in the air, enjoying the sun on her face as she caught it again. “Remember the game we played that first day you came into the office?” she asked, directing her question to Josh.

“Yeah,” Josh said, stopping his wheelchair not far from where she was seated. “Are we going to play catch again?”

“We are. But I want you and your dad to spread out a bit, so we’re like the three points of a triangle.”

Josh obediently moved his wheelchair back a foot. When she glanced over at Dan, he was doing the same thing.

“Excellent. Now, remember how we did it before, okay?” She tossed the ball high in the air toward Josh, who caught it easily.

“Good job, Josh,” Dan said, breaking his silence.

Josh flushed with pleasure and turned his chair so that he was facing his father, before he tossed the ball up in the air. Dan had to lean over the side of the chair a bit to catch the ball, but he managed just fine. He tossed it back up in the air toward Josh.

“Molly!” Josh called, mere seconds before the ball landed on her head and then bounced off erratically. She laughed and jumped up to race after the ball.

“Caught you napping, didn’t he?” Dan drawled, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

She grinned and nodded. “I can’t tell a lie, he certainly did.”

“Good thing you have a hard head,” he teased.

“Good thing.” Her smile widened. She could hardly believe he’d made a joke. “I bet yours is harder,” she goaded as she quickly tossed the ball at him.

She’d used a little too much force, though, and the ball caught the wind, veering off to the left, out of his reach. But that didn’t stop him from stretching up and over the side of the chair in a valiant attempt to reach it.

And suddenly the wheelchair tipped sideways, dumping him onto the ground.

“Dan!” she said.

At the same time Josh yelled, “Daddy!”

She rushed over to his side. “Oh, my gosh, are you all right?” she asked anxiously.

“Fine,” he muttered, his cheeks stained red with embarrassment.

“Tell me where it hurts,” she murmured, pulling the chair out of the way.

He groaned and rolled onto his back, staring up at her. “Mostly hit my shoulder, but I’m fine.”

“Let me see.” She leaned over him, running her fingers up his muscled arm to his shoulder. Thankfully there was no bump or obvious injury that she could feel. But when she looked down at him, their faces were so close she shivered from the intensity of his gaze.

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