Searching for Forever, page 6
Michelle would smile at her, listening to her stories with
unbreakable interest. Every now and then, Charlie’s face
would harden slightly, and her eyes would linger on the floor,
and Michelle would reach up a manicured hand and stroke
Charlie’s wild hair.
A burst of sickening heat erupted in me as I watched
Michelle touch her, and my churning stomach lurched hard
into my chest. With a deep breath, I turned back to the work in
front of me.
As soon as I felt it was reasonable, I checked for Charlie’s
lab results, half of me wanting to treat her and the other half
frantically seeking an excuse to interrupt whatever was going
on between the two of them.
*
“Charlie,” I said, eyes locked on her chart as I entered the
room. I felt her look up at me, breaking her hold on the pretty
nurse seated by her side. “I have your labs back.”
I glared at Michelle, furiously willing her to leave the
room, to leave me alone with Charlie. Instead, she remained
seated, leaning even closer, until her breasts nearly brushed
Charlie’s shoulder, daring me with abrasive blue eyes to
challenge her. What was I doing? Charlie wasn’t mine to have,
or to even have any say in who she flirted with, or, I thought,
fighting a sudden wave of nausea, slept with.
“Michelle…I need a rectal temp on the little boy in room
2.” She stared at me for a moment, a glimmer of pure hatred in
her eyes, and proceeded out the door. For an unfocused
second, I wondered if Michelle, who’d always seemed to like
me well enough, was angry with me because she wanted
Charlie…or because she thought I did too…
“Sorry…she was just…we were…” Charlie said.
“No. No, stop right there.” I held out my hand. “I don’t
want to know.”
“Really. It’s not like that. She’s just a friend…A good
friend.”
“It looked like a little more than that,” I said, the bitterness
in my words seeping out far more than I’d hoped.
“Okay. She’s tried, a couple of times. On the Saturdays
when I work day shift, some of us go to Shooters for drinks.
At times, Michelle will have too much, and she’ll…try to take
me home.”
The same familiar lurching in my belly came on so
strongly I grew light-headed.
“I didn’t know Michelle was…”
“I don’t think she does either…But after a few drinks,
you’d be amazed what people will try to pawn off on the
booze.”
“I see…well, you don’t owe me any explanation.”
“I know.” She furrowed her brow slightly, and the features
on her perfect face softened brilliantly. “But somehow, I feel
like I do.”
A beat of uncomfortable silence filled in between us as
images of a drunken Michelle running her hands up Charlie’s
thigh flooded into my head.
“So, my labs?” she said seriously, snapping me out of my
adolescent envy.
“You have a bit of a white count—”
“How high?”
“Twenty-two—”
“That’s more than ‘a bit,’ Nat. Appendicitis is looking
more like it every minute, huh?” She chewed nervously on her
bottom lip until it was swollen and pink.
“You pretty much diagnosed yourself the moment you
walked in here. But we can’t know for sure. We still have to
do a CT.”
“But it’s pretty likely.”
I nodded. “Given your fevers, your pain, and the white
count.”
“Thank you for being honest with me.” She smiled a small
smile my way.
“It’s hard to put much past you, Charlie.”
The space between us seemed to ignite, and I once again
fought the unyielding desire to touch her, to be close to her. I
just wanted to comfort her. That was all. I wanted to fix her.
“Listen, you know I hate to be like this, but I’m still pretty
uncomfortable…”
“I’ll get you another milligram of Dilaudid,” I said
tenderly.
“Thank you.”
*
Half an hour later, I passed her room again, wondering if I
could find an excuse to step inside. Without one in mind, I
found myself opening the curtain the rest of the way to reveal
Charlie curled up on her side, sound asleep. One arm was
tucked under her head, and her eyes fluttered softly under
closed lids. I hated waking her but knew if any of the nurses
had seen just how long I’d been standing there watching her,
I’d have to.
“Charlie…” I whispered, sitting in the chair Michelle had
occupied and gently rubbing her shoulder. “Charlie…wake
up…” Her body felt like crushed velvet under my hands, as I
temporarily lost track of time and surroundings.
A quick, throaty moan escaped her lips, and she turned
slowly onto her back to face me. “Now there’s a way to wake
up,” she said softly, her eyes bright, with tiny specs for pupils
looking back at me. My cheeks and neck flushed violently, and
I was grateful for the darkness around us.
“How’s your pain now?”
“Not a problem at all,” she said lightly.
“Good. Well, then I’ll be back after your CAT scan with
the final word.” As I approached the doorway, I ached with a
question I hadn’t yet asked, one that had nothing to do with
pain levels or medications or allergies. It would be highly
inappropriate to take advantage of the state the narcotics had
left her in. But, as was often the case around Charlie, logic
gave way to inherent need.
“Let me ask you something,” I said as Charlie sat up,
squinting her eyes into focus.
“Anything.”
“Michelle…when you went out to Shooters and she…well,
did you…”
“Did I sleep with her? That’s what you want to know, isn’t
it?” Her face lit up with obnoxious, boastful pride that was
somehow so endearing on her.
“Yes…”
“No. No. I’ve never slept with her. Not even once.”
I found myself bathed in a sense of relief I felt only when I
saved a life, one that disturbed me when out of context.
“How come? I mean, look at her. She’s a freaking
supermodel.”
“She’s no Natalie Jenner…” Charlie’s voice, husky with
fatigue, sent waves of fitful need over my body. And as I stood
wordlessly, she drifted back to sleep, a smile still resting on
her lips.
*
A CAT scan confirmed what we’d all suspected—Charlie
had acute appendicitis. Even the most minor of surgeries
wouldn’t be easy for someone as tough and stubborn as she
was. People like Charlie were the best kind of people but the
worst kind of patient.
“It’s appendicitis, isn’t it,” Charlie stated the moment I
walked in the room. I wasn’t sure if I was really that
transparent around her or if her own intuition was just that
finely tuned. Either way, I didn’t seem to be able to hide
anything from her.
“Yes. It’s pretty inflamed.”
“Damn…”
After a moment, I allowed myself to cross the room and,
once again, sit by her side. “It’s not a big deal. You know that.
You’re healthy and young.”
“I’m not that young!” she cut in, defensively.
“Well, you’re not older than dirt, like I am.”
“You’re not that old, Nat.”
“I could have a kid your age…”
“Yeah, if you started trying at twelve. We have twelve
years and ten months between us…That’s nothing,” she said,
sweetly.
“Charlie, what were you doing in ’85?”
She thought for a moment, bringing her hand to her chin.
“I wasn’t doing much of anything. But my parents were
contemplating having a bright, devastatingly good-looking
little girl who’d grow up to be the best medic Northwood has
ever seen.” Her grin was so wide it appeared to take over her
entire face.
“Please. You’ve had too much Dilaudid.” Charlie laughed
at me, then feigned offense. “No, but really, do you know
where I was in 1985? I was in junior high, hanging out here,
sneaking glances at patients’ charts when my father wasn’t
looking. I was here…and you weren’t even born yet. You want
to talk about older than dirt…”
And for the first time, the years between us felt like
lifetimes. Charlie was young, now only twenty-six, with her
best years still far ahead of her. She was young and heart-
stoppingly gorgeous in a way that caused me to think in
clichés and daydream like a teenager. She was bright as hell—
any medical school would be lucky to take her. She lived fast,
and hard, and she could charm her way out of any situation
and into anyone’s bed—except mine, that was. Yes. Charlie
had everything to live for and everything to offer someone.
Why she insisted on focusing her attention on me all seemed
far too mystifying.
“Older is sexy.” She reached out a hand toward my cheek.
“Charlie, stop…” I reluctantly intercepted it.
“Sorry…It’s the Dilaudid, really…” But this time, she
wasn’t smiling.
I pulled back farther, allowing for an uncomfortable
amount of space between us, contemplating what I could
possibly say to rectify the hurt I’d just put on Charlie’s face.
“Dr. Jacobs will be over to see you in the morning. In the
meantime, we’ll move you to a real room upstairs.” She
nodded solemnly. “You’ll be just fine. No big deal.” I got up
and left the room.
“Natalie.” I heard Charlie call my name, even after I’d
already stepped into the hall. I poked my head back through
the curtain. “Will you visit?”
Once again taken aback by the susceptibility in her tone, I
froze. There was no harm in visiting a patient…was there? No
one would find that out of place.
“Of course I will…” And I once again left the room,
feeling her eyes work me over as I did.
*
Charlie was moved to a room on the second floor
sometime around four a.m. It wasn’t expected or even normal
for the physician to accompany a patient to their room—
especially for a simple case of appendicitis. But I couldn’t
steer my tired mind away from Charlie’s pleas for me to stay
with her—to visit. Her parents were in Florida, and her sister
was at home with her kids. I could have asked Michelle to
escort her, but every time I considered it, my stomach turned.
She was my patient.
“You ready to go?” I asked, walking into her room.
Charlie’s eyes opened wide and her entire face brightened
up the dark room.
“Really? You’re going with me?”
Her enthusiasm thrilled me. “Sure. We’re pretty empty.
Just you and the drunk down the hall sleeping it off. Besides,
if something happens, they can beep me.”
“Not like it’s a big place,” she teased me. I pulled her bed
away from the wall and began to push her toward the elevator.
*
“Careful. You’ve had a lot of meds,” I said, helping her up
off the stretcher and slipping my arm around her waist as she
leaned on me.
“You just want an excuse to touch me.” She paused for a
moment, gauging my reaction. When I finally allowed a
minute smirk to peek from my lips, she leaned closer to me,
her mouth nearly touching my ear. “It’s okay, I’m not
complaining.”
I shivered hard as the wanting in her words warmed my
skin.
A figure appearing in the doorway rocked me hastily away
from my trance.
“CarolAnne? I’m Joe. I’ll be your nurse for the rest of the
morning.”
Charlie smiled weakly at the man in the green scrubs, a
look of anguish seeping onto her face as she sat on the bed.
“Charlie. Call me Charlie.”
“Okay, Charlie. And you’re…her nurse?”
My gaze stayed glued to Charlie, and it was several more
seconds before I realized the young man was speaking to me.
“Me? Oh. No. I’m her…I’m with…Dr. Jenner. From the ER?”
Joe’s big brown eyes grew even larger as he struggled to
find words. “Dr. Jenner…I’m so sorry. I only work nights
here, and I haven’t seen…I’m not used to doctors bringing…I
was just…”
“It’s okay. Honestly. This is pretty unorthodox, I suppose.”
I allowed Charlie my coyest smile, and for a beautiful
moment, color flooded back into her cheeks, and her hollow
dimples poked out from above soft, potent lips.
“Well, anyway,” Joe said, and I wondered if he felt some of
the same exquisite tension I did. “I’m sorry, Dr. Jenner, but I
need to get Charlie situated here.”
“Just give me a minute with her, okay?”
Charlie and Joe exchanged puzzled glances, but neither
dared question my request. Without argument, Joe left the
room, and Charlie and I were once again alone.
“Listen,” I said in a hushed voice, sidling up next to the
bed Charlie was occupying and stroking the wild strands of
her hair that fell onto the white pillow. “You’re going to be
fine. Really.”
“Thanks—for all of this, Natalie. I mean it.” She grabbed
my hand and held it tight next to her face. “I guess you are
more than just a good doctor.”
“Very funny. I’ll check in on you, okay?”
“Will you visit me? When I get out, I mean?” My heart
sank almost audibly inside my chest, and I was left feeling
hollow and disgusted.
That wasn’t going to happen. I couldn’t find a way to
explain to Peter I’d be at the hospital again in a few hours or to
explain to the staff on the surgical floor why I was spending so
much time with a paramedic who worked with me. People
would talk. Peter would suspect something wasn’t right. And a
little distance from Charlie felt all too necessary.
“No, it’s okay. I know you’re busy. I’m sorry I asked…I
don’t know what I was thinking…”
Her humility was heartbreaking and, in ways I couldn’t
fully comprehend, unconventionally sexy.
“I’ll try.”
After a beat more of what was surely disappointment,
Charlie reached toward her neck and began removing the
medallion around it. “Would you mind?” she asked casually,
handing me the necklace. “I can’t wear it into surgery.”
“No. Of course not.”
“It’s St. Jude.” She must have noticed me keenly studying
the lusterless metal in my hand. “It was my grandfather’s.”
“I didn’t know you were Catholic.”
“Hardly. But he was. He was a surgeon, and before that, he
was a corpsman in the navy, and a firefighter. Kind of an all-
around American hero…Mine, at least…” Charlie’s clouded
eyes smiled at the memory, and I nodded back tenderly.
“Sounds like you haven’t followed far from his
footsteps…” And what would normally have been a pristine
opportunity for Charlie to boast, or flirt, or overproduce
confidence passed with nothing more than reflective silence.
“I’ll keep it safe,” I said, closing my hand around the jewelry.
“I know you will. And besides, it gives you a reason to
have to see me again.”
“Charlie…we work together…”
“Maybe one day when we’re not working…” My eyes
betrayed me, and Charlie’s light features suddenly fell. “Relax,
Doc. I know. We can’t. You can’t. You aren’t. You don’t…
want to. I know.”
I squeezed her hand one last time, still stinging from the
last few words she’d said, and quietly walked away.
*
Staying at the hospital wouldn’t bring Charlie out of
surgery any faster, and working late was doing nothing to ease
the anxiety and lingering sadness I sat engulfed with. I tapped
quickly on the surface of my desk and flicked my eyes back
and forth from chart to chart, until I finally decided home, with
my daughter, was the best place for me to be. Besides, I’d
worked all night. Sleep would do me good, although I had a
feeling it wouldn’t come easily.
It was nine a.m. by the time I arrived home. Peter, who’d
begun doing contracting work for a friend’s electrical repair
business, was already gone, and I couldn’t help but feel relief
at not having to force fervor in his presence. Sammy was in
