The Family Doctor

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It was petty to feel triumphant at the fact he needed her, but she couldn’t help it. Ashamed of her reaction, Kate made a move to assist him, but he waved her away with an impatient gesture. She flopped back down in the chair and tugged her skirt closer to her knees. Why had she worn this snug knit thing, anyhow? She should have put on something loose and long around him.

“I asked to see my chart this morning,” he continued, totally oblivious to the way her mind was deviating from the issue, “and I was refused.” He sounded irate. “In the ER, I demanded a look at the CAT scan and was told that wasn’t possible. Well, that’s just not good enough.” His eyes darkened and he said between gritted teeth, “I want a full accounting of what happened, Kate. I want to know exactly who screwed up and why. Some of it I already know. The mix-up with the X rays—now that was a fiasco.” He shook his head in disgust. “The whole thing’s a damned fiasco, come to that. What’s gone on in my case is exactly the sort of thing I’ve done my best to prevent at this hospital. It’s inexcusable, from start to finish.” He smacked a fist down on the bedcover and roared, “There’ll be a full inquiry the moment I’m out of this bed, I can assure you of that.”

Kate had anticipated this, but the full effect of his wrath was still disconcerting. She’d come prepared, however. She breathed deeply, drew a small notebook out of her jacket pocket, recrossed her legs and referred to it as she outlined, in a quiet voice, the exact series of events that had led to his respiratory arrest.

“You slipped on a candy wrapper in the lobby and went to the ER several hours later, where there was a mix-up with the X rays.”

“Inexcusable. Absolute inefficiency.”

She let him emote, and then she went on with the accounting.

“You had a severe gastrointestinal response to the acetaminophen you’d taken for pain.”

“Are you trying to insinuate that what happened was my own fault?”

It would have been easy to cower. He was intimidating, the way he was glowering at her. She retaliated with dignity. “Absolutely not. In fact, what I’m trying to establish is that we should forget fault altogether.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one lying in this bed.” He gave her a pitying look, as though she was some dimwitted do-gooder beyond sensible reasoning.

But at least he listened without interrupting after that.

Each time she glanced at his face, however, she could see that he was growing more outraged by the moment. His skin was flushed, his dark eyes glared, the frown between his brows deepened.

She swallowed and went on with the recital. She referred to everyone involved by name so he’d be reminded that they were individuals.

“The cook, Rene Lalonde, was in my office this morning. He’s terribly upset. He feels personally responsible for what happened with the broth, and he’s also really worried about his job. He’s recently moved his family out here from Quebec, and now he’s afraid he’ll be out of work. He has three small kids and his wife is pregnant with their fourth.”

Tony snorted. “He must know I can’t just fire him, he’s a member of the union. Anyhow, I have no intentions of firing him. But it was negligent of him to add those damned eggshells to what was supposed to be a clear broth. He definitely deserves a reprimand, and I intend to be the one to give it to him.”

Kate knew she shouldn’t defend the man, but she couldn’t help it. “He was doing the best he knew how. Mistakes are simply opportunities to learn.”

“Literally over my dead body. I came that close, Kate,” he said, eyes narrowed, finger and thumb millimeters apart.

She was tempted to say that close only counted in horseshoes but managed to restrain herself.

“Fortunately, you’ve made an amazingly fast recovery,” she said instead. Was he really like his mother, always expecting the worst?

Kate thought of his sister, Georgia, and reminded herself of the things she had revealed, how good and kind Tony was to his family, what a great father he was to his daughter. Maybe Kate could appeal to that generous part of him.

“People make mistakes,” she began. “No one did anything deliberate.”

“What about that mix-up with the X rays? That was inexcusable. That was negligence. I actually thought for a few hours that I had sarcoma. Thank God the other patient didn’t get my results. I blame the ER staff for such incompetence.”

“I can imagine how terrible the whole thing was for you, but blaming only makes you the problem. The thing we should concentrate on is the solution, don’t you agree?”

He didn’t respond, and he didn’t seem mollified by her sympathy or her appeals to reason. She reverted to facts. “The ER was unusually busy that morning. There were dozens of Shriners with gastroenteritis, as well as the usual run-of-the-mill patients. And the other man did have the exact same name as you.”

He grunted.

It was wicked of her, but she did it, anyway. “Each and every individual who was involved with your case has asked me if they can visit you to apologize,” she said in a sweet voice. “Shall I tell them to come in today?”

He jerked upright, then swore, rubbing his sore leg. “God Almighty, not on your life. Tell them no.” He was horrified, and she hated herself for enjoying it. “I can’t face all those people trooping through here, making excuses.”

“But they feel responsible. And it would make them feel better.”

“Well, it wouldn’t do a damned thing for me. And it’s not up to me to make them feel better about nearly killing me, is it?”

He was a tough case. “Absolutely not,” she agreed. “But keep in mind that it was a system failure. Mistakes were made, but there was no malice whatsoever involved. Everyone is deeply concerned and upset over what occurred.”

“Which makes it all the more frightening,” he said with vehemence. “Concerned and upset aren’t what we’re aiming for at St. Joseph’s, warm and fuzzy as the words might make you feel, Kate.”

His sarcasm finally got to her. She had to struggle to stay calm. She reminded herself that an angry person was asking for love, but it wasn’t easy to believe that of the large man glaring up at her from the hospital bed.

“What is it you really want, Tony?”

Did she imagine it, or did his eyes flicker to her breasts?

He recovered fast and she couldn’t be absolutely sure.

“What I want for St. Joseph’s,” he finally ground out between his teeth, “is professionalism, competence, the best medical care humanly possible. And what I want from the staff is assurance that they aren’t going to screw up this way again.” His voice rose, echoing in the small room.

“Exactly how do you see that assurance? In writing?”

He frowned. She’d confused him. She felt wickedly pleased.

“What do you mean, ‘in writing’?”

“Well, you just told me you want assurance from the staff. In what form do you want it?”

“Are you putting me on? I’m not being literal here, for God’s sake. This isn’t kindergarten.”

“I understand that.” Ah, the power of sweet reason. “I’m simply trying to pinpoint what would make you feel better about all this. Would you like to meet with the staff and tell them how you feel?”

For a moment he considered that. Kate was relieved to see that his anger had diminished.

“Yeah, I sure do,” he finally said in a gruff voice. “Not right away, but in a few days. When I feel better, when I’ve got my strength back, then I’ll meet with them all and lay it on the line.”

Her heart sank. He was going to blast them, in spite of her efforts.

“Great.” It was anything but. “I’d be happy to arrange that meeting for you, if you want me to.”

“Yeah. Get hold of my secretary. She’ll help you set it up.”

There didn’t seem to be anything left to say. Kate stood up and started toward the door just as it swung open and a young girl skipped into the room. She had a mop of stick-straight strawberry-blond hair escaping from a ponytail, an engaging freckled face, and a smile that was like a magnet. Kate couldn’t help but respond to it.

“McKensy begged me to bring her to see you, Tony.” Georgia followed Tony’s daughter into the room and waved her fingers at Kate. “We’re both on our lunch hour, so she can only stay fifteen minutes. The traffic’s a nightmare and I promised her teacher she wouldn’t be late getting back. I’m going to grab us each a sandwich from the cafeteria. Be back in a few minutes.” With that, she hurried out the door.

“Papa, Papa,” McKensy squealed, racing for the bed. She threw herself up and into Tony’s welcoming embrace, covering his face with smacking kisses. “Oh, Papa, I’m so sorry you hurt your foot. I missed you so much. I was scared when I heard you had to stay here. Auntie Judy took me home with her. She drove me to school this morning. Uncle Peter took us all to Pizza Heaven for supper last night and I won a free root beer. Are you better now? When can you come home?”

“Hey, duchess, how you doing? Slow down a little, okay? We’ll take one question at a time.”

Kate was fascinated to see that Tony’s features had undergone a remarkable transformation. The frown had disappeared, and a wide grin lit his face. He had dimples in his cheeks that Kate had never been aware of, and the usual guarded expression in his eyes was replaced by warmth and such obvious affection it made her catch her breath when he turned to her, still smiling.

God, he was downright hazardous to her health when he looked like this.

“Kate, I’d like you to meet my daughter, McKensy. McKensy, this is Ms. Lewis.”

The shape of McKensy’s mouth was the same as his. She had his exact smile, but hers had no restraint. It was spontaneous, trusting and generous. It made her animated little face radiantly beautiful, even though, feature by feature, she wasn’t quite.

“How do you do, Ms. Lewis? Do you work with my papa?”

Kate smiled in return. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, McKensy. And yes, I do work with him. Please, call me Kate.”

“May I, Papa?”

What an endearing child, Kate thought, returning McKensy’s megawatt smile. And such beautiful manners.

“Yes, of course you may. Kate’s just said it’s okay.”

“Goody.” She clapped her hands. “I love it when grown-ups let me call them by their first name. It makes them more intimate.”

Tony rolled his eyes and Kate laughed. “I think you’re right,” she agreed. “It certainly makes it easier to get to know one another.”

“That’s what I think.” McKensy nodded enthusiastic assent.

“Which school do you go to, McKensy?” Kate was enchanted by the little girl.

“St. Regis Academy. It’s so-o-oo fun.”

“I’ll bet it is.” It was known as one of the best private schools in the city. Kate had tried to convince Scott that Eliza should go there, but he’d balked at the cost, even though Kate had offered to pay half.

“Do you have any kids, Kate?” McKensy was perched on the side of Tony’s bed, her gray eyes taking in every detail of the room.

“A stepdaughter, Eliza. She’ll be nine next month.”

“I was nine in April, we’re nearly the same age. Which school does Eliza go to?”

“Collingwood.”

“I think that’s the school right across the street from where I go to dance classes, isn’t it, Papa?”

Tony nodded.

“DanceCo?” Kate asked. “Eliza goes there, too. What are you studying, McKensy?”

“Ballet and tap.”

“So is she,” Kate exclaimed. “She just moved up into Madame Bloor’s class for the last couple of weeks.”

“I take that class,” McKensy squealed, her eyes huge. “There’re two Elizas in my class. Does yours have brown braids or blond, sticky-up points?”

“Sticky-up points,” Kate said.

“Oh, super.” McKensy threw herself back on the bed, not noticing Tony’s grimace when she bumped his sore leg. “I’m so glad. She’s the one I like. The other Eliza’s sort of snobby.”

“McKensy,” Tony admonished in a gentle tone.

“I’m not being rude, I’m just telling the truth.” She sat up and gave her father a wide-eyed innocent look. “And I wouldn’t have said it if she was the other one,” she assured him in a whisper.

Kate met Tony’s eyes and this time they both laughed.

“Why haven’t I seen you at DanceCo?” he asked.

“Eliza’s been going on Wednesdays. She’s just started the Thursday class, and her father often drives her.”

“I go Thursday, right, Papa?”

Tony nodded, and Kate got up. “I’ll be off now and let you two have some time on your own.” She moved toward the door, but before she reached it, Georgia was back, carrying a bag of food.

“Sorry, McKensy, but we’ve gotta go now,” she said. “I’ll bring you back tonight so you can have a nice long visit with your dad.”