“It’s okay,” she lied. “I don’t fall apart just because someone talks about babies or mentions how cute they are.”
Admittedly, they were, but seeing those adorable little faces was tough, which was why she never, ever, entered the secured area to stare at them through the plate-glass window. Why add insult to injury? she’d rationalized.
“I know, but—”
“It’s okay,” Leah repeated, as much for her own benefit as Jane’s. “Honestly.”
Jane nodded, but the worried wrinkle between her eyes suggested her good-mood bubble had burst. Determined to regain their easy footing, Leah thought it best to gently steer the conversation in another direction, for both their sakes.
“OB isn’t the only busy department in this place,” she commented as she tucked a fitted sheet around a corner of the mattress. “Our daily patient census is above average across the entire hospital and we both know our ED visit numbers are up, too. The extra business should make the bean counters happy.”
“Maybe this year we’ll get a Christmas bonus for a job well done,” Jane responded hopefully.
Word from the last supervisors’ meeting was that the possibility was remote, but Leah wasn’t going to rain on Jane’s picnic. “Maybe, but, bonus or not, more patients means more nursing staff are necessary, which means I work more often.”
Jane paused from working on her own two bed corners. “Look, hon,” she said kindly. “I know you’re probably feeling guilty because you’d never resolved your differences with Gabe, but killing yourself now that he’s gone, working sixty-plus hours a week, isn’t the way to cope.”
“I’m not killing myself,” Leah protested mildly, pointedly ignoring Jane’s opinion about her reasons for the pace she’d set for herself. “I’m merely keeping busy. Just like I have for the past year.”
“Keeping busy is one thing. Doubling your hours is another.”
“Okay, so I am working a few more hours,” Leah conceded reluctantly, “but I was off duty yesterday and I spent the day puttering around the house. And then I treated myself to dinner and a movie.”
“Dinner and a movie?” Jane’s eyes brimmed with curiosity. “Did you finally put Jeff out of his misery and go on a date?”
About six months ago, Dr. Jeff Warren, one of Spring Valley’s ED physicians, had invited her to a concert, then a community theater play. Both times she’d declined, not because she didn’t enjoy his company or didn’t want to attend those particular events. No, she’d gently refused his invitation because in spite of being separated from her husband of ten years, going out with another man while she was still officially married made her feel as if she was cheating.
Which was why she’d wanted Gabe’s signature on those divorce papers. It was past time to stop expecting a miracle and start thinking about the future—her future—instead of the past. As it had turned out, she didn’t need his signature after all.
Leah shot her friend a spare-me look. “Are you kidding?” she asked. “I haven’t even buried Gabe and you’re asking if I’m seeing Jeff?”
“Buried or not, you’ve been separated for over a year,” Jane reminded her. “It’s time to move on.”
“I will,” Leah promised. “But I can’t until I’ve dotted all my ‘i’s and crossed all the ‘t’s.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “What’s left to dot and cross? From what you’ve said, his body may never come home.”
How well she knew that. The Mexican authorities had reported the discovery of the airplane’s charred remains in a ravine. They lacked the resources to recover the bodies and in their bureaucratic minds the burned-out shell of the aircraft made it pointless to do so. Undaunted, and after greasing palms for several weeks, Gabe’s second-in-command Sheldon Redfern had received permission to send in a private recovery team. As of yesterday, they hadn’t reported any more encouraging news than what the authorities had already shared.
Their success, however, wasn’t the reason she was dragging her feet …
“The annual foundation fund-raiser is coming up in a few months,” she pointed out. “It seems tacky to plan a tribute to my deceased husband while I’m dating someone else.” Their relationship may have been rocky the last two years and she might be finally ready to look for male companionship and find romance again, but in honor of the good times and the love they’d once shared, she owed it to Gabe to wait.
“Did you tell that to Jeff?”
She nodded, remembering their conversation. He’d been so understanding, which not only came as a relief but also endeared him to her all the more. “He’s agreed to give me time,” she said, deciding not to mention that she’d set their first official date for the Saturday night after the fundraiser. If Jane knew that, she’d be bouncing off the walls with excitement and Leah didn’t want to see her sly smiles and winks in the meantime.
Jane stared at her thoughtfully. “Personally, I think you’re worried too much about what other people think, but another month or two won’t make much difference. Just be sure your decision to stay out of the dating game is based on the right reasons.”
“What other reason could I have?”
Jane shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe that you still love Gabe and are waiting for the ultimate proof that he won’t be coming back.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She avoided her friend’s gaze because she didn’t want Jane to recognize what she herself refused to dwell on or admit. “If I loved him, why would I have moved out?”
“You tell me. I just don’t want you to be stuck on hold for the rest of your life.”
“I’m not,” Leah insisted. “I’m merely being cautious. There’s no sense rushing into something I might come to regret.” She grabbed a fresh cotton blanket and shook it out of its folds with a decisive snap, effectively signaling an end to their conversation. “Do you know what’s coming in next?”
Jane shook her head. “All I heard was that they were bringing in three from the airport.”
“The airport?” She considered for a moment. “Bigwigs, no doubt.”
“What makes you say that?”
“It’s probably food related and the only folks who get food on a plane are seated in first class. And who usually can afford to sit in first class?”
“Ah.” Jane’s eyes gleamed. “Bigwigs.”
“Exactly.”
“You’re stereotyping, you know. Regular people buy first-class tickets, too.”
Leah flashed her a wide smile. “Okay, so I’m generalizing but, mark my words, it won’t be three average Joes who roll into our ambulance bay. They’ll be fellows wearing suits and ties, carrying briefcases and BlackBerrys, and wanting a magic pill to fix whatever ails them. Oh, and can we hurry because they’re already late for a meeting.”
Jane laughed, probably because Leah’s scenario had actually taken place often enough to become a legend in the ER. “We’ll find out if you’re right in about three minutes. Marge wants us to be on the dock, ready to go.”
As the emergency department’s nurse manager, Marge Pennington was a person who believed in keeping busy every minute, so it seemed odd she would ask them to waste time waiting. Her request only seemed to substantiate Leah’s prediction of several Very Important People arriving on this transport.
“Far be it from me to argue,” she said, although it bothered her to think Marge was willing to discard her normal habits in order to impress people with money. Having married into a family with the Midas touch, Leah had always been leery of people who didn’t treat her as they would anyone else.
“According to her, the person radioing in specifically asked for you.”
Leah’s eyes widened. “Me? Why me?”
Jane shrugged. “Maybe it’s someone you know from Gabe’s trust organization.”
Leah mentally ran through her list of regularly generous contributors to the Montgomery Medical Charitable Foundation. As chairwoman of the annual fund-raising ball, which would take place in six weeks, she was acquainted with nearly all of the supporters, but none knew she worked in the Spring Valley Hospital Emergency Department.
“Impossible,” she said.
Jane shrugged. “Who knows? In any case, I’m only following Marge’s orders and if you know what’s good for you, you will, too.”
Marge wasn’t the easiest charge nurse to work for, but she was a model of efficiency and a brilliant nurse. No one, not even the hospital’s CEO, crossed her when she was in battle mode.
Leah gave the bed a final pat, pleased with their results. “Okay, then. Let’s go. I can use a few minutes of fresh air while we’re waiting.” She grinned. “Just think, we might even get to sit and rest our weary feet.”
Outside, Leah did exactly as she’d hoped to. Ignoring Jane and the two extra staff who’d joined them with wheelchairs and an extra stretcher, she sat on the concrete loading dock and dangled her legs over the edge as she breathed in the fresh air and soaked up the heat.