Sacred Trust Page 30

  She gestured toward the room. “Overeating has been his life history. I don’t need a chart to see that.”

  “Did it ever occur to you during your years of nursing school that you would be dealing with real people who had real problems, many of which they’d brought on themselves? Would you react the same way with someone who suffered from anorexia nervosa? How about emphysema or heart disease from too much smoking?” Don’t the schools teach compassion these days?

  A deep flush rushed up her neck and face.

  “Get a bed in here now,” Lukas ordered. “I’m not leaving until Clarence Knight is comfortable, and I don’t want to hear any more remarks about his weight.”

  Her eyes widened. She stared at him a second longer, then swung away and rushed down the hallway.

  Lukas glared at her retreating back. Not only did this hospital not hire enough staff, the staff it did hire lacked compassion, even common human decency.

  A moment later, he sighed slowly. This nurse was like millions of others who judged by appearance and not by the heart, but wasn’t he judging, too? Why did he have to be so quick to condemn people? God loved people like this nurse, even as He loved Clarence. Jesus Christ would have found a way to be tender with her, to gently show her the error of her ways instead of wounding with harsh words as he had just done.

  Of course…there had been the time with the whip in the temple. And Jesus had never been too tender with the religious leaders of His time. “White-washed sepulchers” and “vipers” had been a couple of His favorite terms for them….

  “Hey, Doc, that you out there?” came Clarence’s booming voice.

  Lukas forced a smile and stepped back through the threshold to the room. The huge man lay on the drunkenly tilted bed, his sheet-covered body nearly enmeshed in the stainless-steel rails on both sides.

  “How are you feeling, Clarence?”

  “Feels like I’m in a vice.”

  “Do you want me to let the rails down?”

  “No, I’ll fall out.”

  “We’re going to remedy that. Maybe we can try to get some padding over the rails when your new bed comes. Other than that, how are you feeling?”

  “Fat. I don’t think I’ve lost any weight yet.” He gestured toward the door. “I heard what you said to that gal.”

  “Sorry you caught that. People surprise me with their insensitivity.”

  “Thanks, Doc. I thought you’d be mad at me ’cause I didn’t listen to you when you tried to get me in here in the first place.”

  Lukas grinned. “It took a woman’s touch. Dr. Mercy did all right.”

  Clarence growled.

  “Give her a break, Clarence. Her heart’s in the right place.”

  “You mean she’s got one?”

  “I’m pretty sure she has.”

  Clarence thought about it, then nodded. “Guess you’re right. Guess she probably has a lot going on in her life right now, too.”

  Lukas blinked in surprise.

  “I should’ve gone to school to be a psychologist.” Clarence tried to shift his weight, got stuck in the bars, and gave up. “Take that nurse just now. Jeannie’s her name. It was her first time in here, but I knew when she walked in the door that others had been talking to her about me. It was like she’d been warned not to react when she saw me, but she couldn’t help it. Maybe I could pay hospital bills if I joined a circus.”

  “You won’t have to resort to that,” Lukas said drily. “Dr. Mercy has already made arrangements for a social worker to come in and talk to you on Monday.”

  Clarence growled again, but his dark eyes held no animosity.

  “I know you hate the thought of accepting state aid, but we’ve been over this before.”

  “I know, I know.”

  “You’re doing this for your sister.”

  Clarence nodded.

  “She’s worth it. You’re doing the right thing. You’ll have to improve your bedside manner, though, if you intend to become a psychologist.”

  “Nah. I’d be great with fat people. We could relate. You oughta take some pictures of me the way I look now. When I get this weight off, we could take more pictures and publish the before and after shots together. I’d be the most popular weight-loss guru of the year.”

  “Of the century. Start writing your memoirs.” Lukas had never seen the big man so expansive. It was encouraging. Something was going right, for once.

  The nurse arrived with a bed and an orderly. She avoided looking at Lukas while he helped Clarence out of the broken bed and into the new one, but her attitude with the patient, though still stiff, was better. As they finished up, Lukas followed the nurse out into the hallway again.

  “Jeannie?” he said quickly before her escape pace took her out of earshot.

  She stopped and turned back with obvious reluctance. She glanced at him warily.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I’m sorry I was so sharp with you earlier. I could have been gentler.”

  She hesitated, then took a tentative step back toward him. “I’m sorry I was rude with Mr. Knight. While I was getting the bed, I tried to imagine how I’d feel if I were him. It’s got to be awful.”

  Lukas smiled, encouraged out of proportion to the incident.

  “Thank You, Lord,” he murmured as he went back into Clarence’s room to say goodbye. After that he checked on Mercy, who was preparing to take her daughter home. Time to hit the road, and he was ready.

  Theo lost the sale. He sat watching the men from the West Coast drive away in their rental car, back to Century 21, with whom they had decided to deal and for whom they had postponed their flight back. He pounded his fist against the steering wheel of his car and shouted curses at their brake lights as they stopped at the traffic signal two blocks away.

  He’d busted his rear, called them over and over again, and abandoned his daughter so he could meet them and show them the place, and they’d shown no more appreciation for his efforts than if he’d been a mindless computer.

  The door to the office opened and Gordon walked out, head down, hands in his pockets. It was a sure sign he’d been chewed out by the boss, and now it was Theo’s turn.

  Gordon looked up, saw Theo, and his eyes narrowed. His hands came out of his pockets, and he strode down the sidewalk toward the car.

  Theo was tempted to turn on the engine, put the car in gear and drive away.

  Gordon reached the passenger door, opened it and stuck his head in. “Did they bite?”

  Theo took a deep breath. “No.”

  Gordon glared at him. “You’d better do something, and do it fast. Johnson’s looking through the accounts and making calls to the bank.”

  “Why is he looking through the accounts? You keep the books.”

  “I don’t know. Just do something, Theo. Quick! How’re we going to cover this?”

  “Would you relax? You’re being paranoid. He’s not an accountant. You covered your tracks, right?”

  “Yes, but I’m not an accountant, either. I’ve never done anything like this before. And tell me how we’re going to make our money back on that investment. My loan’s coming due, and I’m not going to get a second mortgage on my house.”

  “Gordon, use your brain. You’ve got a good pal at the bank. You can get the loan extended.”

  “No, I can’t! I want out. You thought this was such a good deal, you come up with the extra cash and take care of this.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t care how, just do it!” He slammed the door and stalked to his own car.

  Instead of going inside to face the boss, Theo started his engine and drove away. Johnson could hunt him down if he wanted to ask questions, and besides, it was almost lunchtime and Theo hadn’t eaten breakfast yet.

  The lunch crowd had not yet arrived when he reached the Golden Lion. That suited him fine. He wasn’t interested in any company right now, except for good ol’ Jack Daniel’s.

  He ordered a double with his lunch special and downe
d it before the food arrived. He ordered another to wash down the steak.

  It didn’t help. His head hurt. The food felt like sawdust in his mouth.

  He raised a hand to gesture a waitress over. “This steak’s overdone,” he snapped, shoving the plate to the side of the table. “I ordered medium rare.” He pressed the center of the steak with his fork. “Do you see any blood running out of that?”

  She started in with her soft-voice apologies, and he held her hand up. “I don’t want to hear it. Just give me my money back and get me another drink.”

  She hesitated, watching him warily, the way Tedi sometimes did when he was relaxing with a beer in the evening. He glared at her. She picked up the plate and walked away. When his drink came, a different waitress brought it along with a generous dish of their dessert specialty, bread pudding with whiskey sauce.

  “On the house,” she said, laying down a fresh spoon. “The chef apologizes for the mistake.”

  He didn’t reply, just waved her away and glared at the dessert. They thought they were so cute, giving him something to fill his stomach so the alcohol wouldn’t affect him as quickly. How stupid did they think he was?

  He finished the drink in two gulps, threw some cash down on the table, and stalked out of the restaurant.

  He was going to take the rest of the day off, and if Johnson didn’t like it, let him yell.

  Theodore picked up a fifth at the corner liquor store on his way home.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Jarvis had a headache, but that was old news. He could barely remember a time when he didn’t have one, or when the hospital staff didn’t question his orders at every turn, or when he didn’t have to take combined drugs—including narcotics—just to function. In fact, he could barely remember much of anything anymore. It seemed as if his short-term memory had vanished.

  He sat back in his comfortable old leather chair and sighed, still irritated by Robert Simeon’s attitude earlier today during the QA meeting. After Jarvis had presented his info on Bower—the loss of residency, the faxed letter from Ivy Richmond questioning Bower’s ethics and the information about Dwayne Little’s lawsuit and Dondi Baker’s missed MI—the committee had voted to request the young, cocky doctor’s termination from the hospital. The only dissenter had been Robert Simeon. It was almost as if he’d wanted to protect Bower for some reason. Good thing Mercy wasn’t there. A very good thing.

  Jarvis punched a button on his phone and picked up the receiver. “Bailey, Jarvis here. We’re getting the recommendation we wanted from the QA committee.”

  “Excellent. Good work. I knew they’d see things your way.”

  “Ivy Richmond came through with a letter,” Jarvis continued, giving Bailey all the information about this morning.

  “Sounds as if we have enough to hang this guy,” Bailey said.

  “Except for one thing. I’m wondering about the one nurse who was working with Bower when Dwayne came in that night. She hasn’t done her AMA report yet, but if—”

  “That’s not going to be a problem. She’s a single mother, and that’s expensive these days. She doesn’t want to lose her job because she really needs the income, and she may not find anything else in the area. I’ve discussed the matter with her. I think she’s been reasonably convinced.”

  Jarvis blinked in surprise, then frowned and shook his head. Sometimes, Bailey’s methods chilled him. “She’s a good nurse, Bailey. Estelle wouldn’t let her be fired for something like—”

  “Estelle won’t be here to do anything about it if I have my way. She willingly hired Bower, knowing his questionable background. The hospital board won’t stand for it, not when we get finished with them.”

  Jarvis thought about that a moment. This was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? He wanted to get rid of Lukas Bower, and he wanted life the way it was before Estelle Pinkley complicated things with all the red tape and computer talk and documented confusion. Of course, things wouldn’t change back just because Estelle was out of the picture.

  “Robert Simeon protested our vote,” Jarvis said. “The medical staff has not been informed of our decision, and he feels we should make the recommendation to them first. I told him it was not necessary protocol.”

  “Good work, Doc. I knew I could count on you. Talk to you later.” Bailey disconnected.

  Jarvis sat holding the phone, frowning. This was what he wanted. But was this the way to go about getting it done?

  Tedi sat on the sofa in Mom’s living room watching a video of her favorite old cartoons, eating chicken noodle soup and listening to Mom on the phone canceling her schedule for the afternoon. No school today and Tedi felt great. Her throat was kind of sore and her hand hurt where the bee had stung her, but the sofa felt so comfortable and the soup tasted so good, she couldn’t help smiling. She loved Mom’s voice. It sounded so safe and strong.

  Mom hung up the phone and came into the living room from the kitchen. “More soup?”

  Tedi held her bowl up. “Not finished with this.”

  Mom leaned over and felt for Tedi’s pulse, then checked the bee sting on her hand. “Feeling okay?”

  Tedi shrugged. “Yeah. Not swelling. Grandma says she’ll be home next Monday. Do you think she’s really okay?”

  Mom raised Tedi’s legs, sat down on the sofa and put Tedi’s legs on her lap. “I think so, honey. I think she’s finally decided to take better care of herself. She’s just accepted the fact that her heart is slowing her down, and she wants to be healthy for us.” She patted Tedi’s legs. “Just like you want to stay healthy for your grandma, right?”

  “Right.”

  “No more wandering into beehives and old barns?”

  Tedi took a swallow of soup and didn’t answer for a moment. “I’ve got to start keeping my smart mouth shut, huh, Mom?”

  Mom looked at her for a long time without saying anything. She looked as if she might cry. Then she picked up the remote and turned off the VCR, took the bowl of soup from Tedi and sat it on the coffee table and pulled Tedi up on her lap and cuddled her the way she used to do. She held her like that for a long time.

  “It’s my fault,” Mom said at last.

  Tedi, who had her ear against Mom’s chest, felt the vibration of her voice. “It’s not your fault I sass Dad.”

  “Yes, it is. You’ve heard me do it, so you do it.”

  “But I’ll stop doing it.”

  “Good. I’ll try, too.”

  “Mom?”

  “Mmm-hmm?”

  “You won’t tell Dad what I said, will you?”

  “No. At this point, I can’t afford to make him mad.”

  “What if he marries Julie?”

  Mom swallowed and took a deep breath. “How would you feel about that?”

  “Yuck.”

  “Why?”

  “She makes him drink. That was why he drank last night—because she brought wine over. It’s really stupid, too, because I heard her fighting with him about his drinking too much.”

  “How does she treat you?”

  Tedi thought about it, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I get the feeling she wishes I weren’t there.”

  Mom squeezed. “I can’t imagine anybody not wanting you around.”

  “I think she wants Dad to herself.”

  “How do you feel about that?”

  Tedi made a face. “You sound like that counselor.”

  “Oops. I’m a doctor, guess I can’t help it.”

  Tedi continued. “I’m thinking maybe if Dad and Julie got married, they might not want me around, and he wouldn’t fight you if you wanted me to come and live with you.”

  Tedi felt her mother smile. She felt her warm breath against her face.

  “You’re pretty smart,” Mom said.

  “Grandma says I take after you.”

  “Good for her.” There was a long silence, then, “Tedi, I’m going to try to get you back.”

  Tedi stiffened, and her eyes widened in fear. “Mom, you
said you wouldn’t tell Dad—”

  “I’m not planning to tell him anything. I’m going to talk to a good attorney, and I’m going to ask for custody. Your father can’t hurt me now, and I’m not going to let him hurt you.” She squeezed Tedi tighter. “You’ll have to trust me, honey. I can’t let him do what he’s been doing to you. I know a court battle will be hard on us, but not as hard as living with your father has been on you.” She kissed Tedi’s forehead. “Please trust me.”

  Tedi sighed and hugged her mother hard.

  The phone rang.

  Mom didn’t move. She just sat there, holding Tedi. “Let the recorder get it.”

  They listened to it pick up, heard Mom’s recorded message, then heard Dad’s voice.

  “Mercy? This is Theodore. I want you to bring Tedi home. Now.” The machine beeped, clicked and rewound.

  Mom took a deep breath.

  Tedi looked up at her. “I have to do it, Mom.”

  Mom nodded. “I know. I don’t want you to go.”

  “I’ll keep my mouth shut and be good, and if he gets drunk and I get scared, I’ll call you to come and get me.”

  Tears filled Mom’s eyes and dripped down her face. She didn’t move. “You promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Lukas was just preparing to lock the front door of his house when the phone rang. For a moment, he listened to it ring and considered ignoring it.

  He picked up on the fifth ring. “Bower here.”

  “Yes.” It was Jarvis. There was a long pause. “I just thought you’d want to know the results of our QA meeting this morning, Bower.”

  Lukas waited.

  “We plan to recommend to the hospital board next Thursday that you be released from your contract with us and terminated from this facility.”

  Lukas’s first reaction was to observe that Jarvis didn’t sound like he was gloating. He sounded almost hesitant. Then the news hit deeper, and Lukas closed his eyes. “And why are you calling to tell me this?”

  There was a long silence, then a sigh. “If you fight us, Bower, you’ll drag Pinkley down with you, and possibly even this hospital.”

  “Is Bailey Little going ahead with the suit?”