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Phil’s gaze found her. A look of desperation made his smooth, handsome features look strained. He glanced at Robbie and back to her. “I need a huge favor. I just got a call from the E.R. One of my patients inhaled his crown while the dentist was replacing it, and I need to do an emergency bronchoscopy to get it out.” He dug his fingers into his hair. “Can you watch Robbie for me? I’ll only be gone an hour or so.”
What? Her, watch a child? “I can’t…”
“I don’t know what else to do.” His blue eyes darkened, wildly darting around the room.
He was obviously in a bind, but didn’t he have a child-care provider?
She glanced at the boy, who was oblivious to Phil’s predicament, happily grinning at a picture of a goldfish on the wall.
“Pish!” he said pointing, as if discovering gold.
“I’m really in a bind here,” Phil pleaded. “The E.R. is overflowing and they need to get my patient taken care of and discharged. I can’t very well plop Robbie down in the E.R. waiting room.”
Oh, God, there it was, that lump of maternal instinct she’d pushed out of her mind for the past three years. It planted itself smack in the middle of her chest like an ice pick. She studied Phil, his blue eyes tinted with worry and desperation. She’d give the wrong impression if she refused to help out, and she’d come to Midcoast Medical to help. He’d seemed so sincere earlier when he’d offered his assistance anytime she needed it. A swirl of anxiety twisted her in its clutch as she said, “Okay.”
“You’ll do it?” He looked stunned, as if he’d just witnessed a miracle.
Well, he had. Never in a million years would she have volunteered to do this, but as he was in such a bind…
She nodded, and her throat closed up.
“Thank you!” He grabbed her arms and kissed her cheek, releasing her before she had a chance to react. “You’re the best.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Just watch him. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Be a good boy for Stephanie, Robbie,” he said before he disappeared out the door.
Why couldn’t she have left earlier, like everyone else in the clinic? Dread trickled from the crown of her head all the way down to her toes. Her heart knocked against her ribs. She’d made a knee-jerk decision without thinking it through. She couldn’t handle this. There went that swirl of panic again, making her knees weak and her hands tremble.
The boy looked at her with innocent eyes, licking his lips. “I’m hungwee.”
She couldn’t very well ignore the poor kid. “So am I, but I don’t have a car seat for you, so we can’t go anywhere.”
She’d spoken too fast. Obviously, the boy didn’t get her point.
He held his tummy and rocked back and forth. “Hungweeeeee.”
Oh, God, what should she do now? She scratched her head, aware that a fine line of perspiration had formed above her lip. He was hungry and she was petrified.
Think, Stephanie, think.
She snapped her fingers. The tour. Jason had taken her on a tour of the clinic that morning, and it had included the employee lounge. “Come on, let’s check out the refrigerator.”
Robbie reached up for her hand. Avoiding his gesture, she quickened her step and started for the hallway. “It’s down here,” she said, as he toddled behind, bouncing off his toes, trying to catch up.
She switched on lights as they made their way to the kitchen in the mansion-turned-clinic. “Let’s see what we can dig up,” she said, heading for the refrigerator, avoiding his eyes at all cost and focusing on the task. She had every intention of writing IOU notes for each and everything she found to share with Robbie.
Some impression she’d make on her first day, stealing food.
Heck, the fridge was nearly bare. Someone had trained the employees well about leaving food around to spoil and stink up the place. Fortunately there was a jar of peanut butter. She pulled out drawer after drawer, hoping to find some leftover restaurant-packaged crackers. If the kid got impatient and cried, she’d freak out. Drawer three produced two packs of crackers and a third that was broken into fine pieces. Hopefully, Robbie wouldn’t mind crumbs.
“You like peanut butter?”
“Yup,” he said, already climbing up on the bench by the table. “I wike milk, too.”
Stephanie lifted her brows. “Sorry, can’t help you there.” But, as all clinics must, they did keep small cartons of juice on hand for their diabetic patients. “Hey, how about some cranberry or orange juice?”
“’Kay.”
“Which kind?”
“Boaff.”
“Okay. Whatever.” Anything to keep the boy busy and happy. Anything to keep him from crying. She glanced at her watch. How long had Phil been gone? Ten minutes? She blew air through her lips. How would she survive an hour?
After their snack, she led him back to the waiting room, careful not to make physical contact, where a small flat-screen TV was wedged in the corner near the ceiling. She didn’t have a clue what channels were available in this part of the state, but she needed to keep the boy distracted.
“What do you like to watch?”
“Cartoons!” he said, spinning in a circle of excitement.
She scrolled through the channels and found a cartoon that was nowhere near appropriate for a child.
“That! That!” Robbie called out.
“Uh, that one isn’t funny. Let’s look for another one.” She prayed she could find something that wouldn’t shock the boy or teach him bad words. Her hand shook as she continued to flip through the channels. Ah, there it was, just what she’d hoped for, a show with brightly colored puppets with smiling faces and silly voices. Maybe the fist-size knot in her gut would let up now.
She sat on one of the waiting-room chairs, and Robbie invited himself onto her lap. Every muscle in her body stiffened. She couldn’t do this. Where was Phil?
His warm little back snuggled against her and when he laughed she could feel it rumble through his chest. She inhaled and smelled the familiar fragrance of children’s shampoo, almost bringing her to tears. Someone took good care of this little one. Was it Phil?
She couldn’t handle this. Before she jumped out of her skin, she lifted him with outstretched arms and carried him to another chair, closer to the TV.
“Here. This seat is better. You sit here.”
Fortunately, engrossed in the show, he didn’t pick up on her tension and sat contentedly staring at the TV.
It had been a long day. She was exhausted, and didn’t dare let her guard down. Robbie rubbed his eyes, yawning and soon falling asleep. She paced the waiting room, checked her watch every few seconds, and glanced at the boy as if he were a ticking time bomb. Her throat was so tight, she could barely swallow.
Several minutes passed in this manner. Robbie rested his head on the arm of the chair, sound asleep. Stephanie hoped he’d stay that way until Phil returned.
A few minutes later, one of the puppets on the TV howled, and another joined in. It jolted her. Robbie stirred. His face screwed up. The noise had scared him.
Oh, God, what should she do now?
After a protracted silence, he let out a wail, the kind that used up his breath and left him quiet only long enough to inhale again. Then he let out an even louder wail.
“It’s okay, Robbie. It was just the TV,” she said from across the room, trying to console him without getting too close. She patted the air. “It was the show. That’s all.” She couldn’t dare hold him. The thought of holding a child sent lightning bolts of fear through her. She never wanted to do it again.
Flashes of her baby crying, screaming, while she paced the floor, rooted her to the spot. Robbie cried until mucus ran from his nose, and he coughed and sputtered for air, but still she couldn’t move.
It took every ounce of strength she had not to bolt out of the clinic.
Phil’s patient had been set up and ready for him when he’d arrived in the nearby E.R. The dental crown had been easy to locate in the trachea at the opening of the right bronchus. He’d dislodged it using a rigid scope and forceps, and done a quick check to make sure it hadn’t damaged any lung tissue. He’d finished the procedure within ten minutes, leaving the patient to recover with the E.R. nurse.
He barreled through the clinic door, then came to an abrupt stop at the sight of Robbie screaming and Stephanie wild-eyed and pale across the room.
“What’s going on?” he said.
She blinked and inhaled, as if coming to life from her statue state. “Thank God, you’re back,” she whispered.
“What happened?” He rushed to Robbie, picked him up and wiped his nose.
“I was ‘cared,” Robbie said, starting to cry again.
“Hey, it’s okay, buddy, I’m here.” Phil hugged his brother as anger overtook him. “What’d you do to him?” he asked, turning as Stephanie ran out the door. What the hell had happened? Confused, he glanced at Robbie. “Did she hurt you?”
“The cartoon monster ‘cared me,” he whimpered, before crying again.
Phil hugged him, relieved. “Are you hungry, buddy? You want to eat?”
The little guy nodded through his tears. “’Kay,” he said with a quiver.
What kind of woman would stand by and let a little kid cry like that? Had she been born without a heart? Phil didn’t know what was up with the new doc, but he sure as hell planned to find out first thing tomorrow.
Chapter Two
STEPHANIE snuck in early the next day and lost herself in her patients all morning. She gave a routine physical gynecological examination and ordered labs on the first patient. With her first pregnant client, she measured fundal height and listened to fetal heart tones, discussed nutrition and recommended birthing classes. According to the chart measurements, the third patient’s fibroid tumors had actually shrunk in size since her last visit. Stephanie received a high five when she gave the news.
Maybe, if she kept extra-busy, she wouldn’t have to confront Phil.
Later, as she performed an initial obstetric examination, she noticed something unusual on the patient’s cervix. A plush red and granular-looking area bled easily at her touch. “Have you been having any spotting?”
“No. Is something wrong?” the patient asked.
To be safe, and with concern for the pregnancy, she prepared to take a sample of cells for cytology. “There’s a little area on your cervix I want to follow up on. It may be what we call an ectropion, which is an erosion of sorts and is perfectly benign.” She left out the part about not wanting to take any chances. “The lab should get results for us within a week.”
“What then?”
“If it’s negative, which it will most likely be, nothing, unless you have bleeding after sex or if you get frequent infections. Then we’d do something similar to cauterizing it. On the other hand, if the specimen shows abnormal cells, I’ll do a biopsy and follow up from there.”
“Will it hurt my baby?”
“An ectropion is nothing more than extra vascular tissue. You may have had it a long time, and the pregnancy has changed the shape of your cervix, making it visible.”
“But what if you have to do a biopsy?”
How must it feel to have a total stranger deliver such worrisome news? Stephanie inhaled and willed the expertise, professionalism and composure she’d need to help get her through the rest of the appointment. Maybe she shouldn’t have said a thing, but what if the test result came back abnormal and she had to drop a bomb? That wouldn’t be fair to the patient without a warning. She second-guessed herself and didn’t like the repercussions. All the excitement of being pregnant might become overshadowed with fear if she didn’t end the appointment on a positive note.
“This small area will most likely just be an irritation. It’s quite common. I’m being extra-careful because you’re pregnant, and a simple cervical sampling is safe during pregnancy. I’ll call with the results as soon as I get them. I promise.” She maintained steady eye contact and smiled, then chose a few pamphlets from the wall rack on what to expect when pregnant. “These are filled with great information about your pregnancy. Read them carefully, and afterward, if you have any questions, please feel free to ask me.”
The woman’s furrowed brow eased just enough for Stephanie to notice. She wanted to hug her and promise everything would be all right, but that was out of her realm as a professional.
“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you your expected due date.” She gave the woman the date and saw a huge shift on her face from concern to sheer joy. Her smile felt like a hug, and Stephanie beamed back at her.
“This is a very exciting time, Mrs. Conroy. Enjoy each day,” she said, patting the patient’s hand.
The young woman accepted the pamphlets, nodded, and prepared to get down from the exam table, her face once again a mixture of expressions. “You’ll call as soon as you know anything, right?”
“I promise. You’re in great shape, and this pregnancy should go smoothly. A positive attitude is also important.”
Stephanie felt like a hypocrite reciting the words. Her spirits had plunged so low over the past three years she could barely remember what a positive attitude was. If she was going to expect this first-time mother to be upbeat, she should at least try it, too.
After the patient left, she gave herself a little pep talk as she washed her hands. Just try to have a good time. Do something out of the ordinary. Start living again.
A figure blocked the exam-room doorway, casting a shadow over the mirror. “You mind telling me what happened last night?” Phil’s words were brusque without a hint of yesterday’s charm.
Adrenaline surged through her, and she went on the defensive. “I don’t do kids.” She turned slowly to hide her nerves, and grabbed a paper towel. “You didn’t give me a chance to tell you.”
“How hard is it to console a crying kid?”
Stephanie held up her hand and looked at Phil’s chin rather than into his eyes. “Harder than you could ever understand.” She tossed the paper towel into the trash bin and walked around him toward her office. “I’m sorry,” she whispered before she closed the door.
Phil scraped his jaw as he walked to his office. What in the hell was her problem? Last night, he’d found her practically huddled in the corner as if in a cage with a lion. It had taken half an hour to console Robbie. A bowl of vanilla ice cream with rainbow sprinkles had finally done the trick. Colorful sprinkles, as Robbie called them. For some dumb reason, Phil got a kick out of that.
What was up with Stephanie Bennett?
He didn’t have time to figure out the new doctor when he had more pressing things to do. Like make a schedule! He’d put so much energy into distracting Robbie last night, horsing around with him and watching TV, that he’d lost track of time, forgotten to bathe him and missed his usual bedtime medicine. A kid could survive a day without a bath, right?
His beeper went off. He checked the number. It was the preschool. Hell, what had he forgotten now?
Stephanie arrived at work extra-early again the next morning, surprised to see someone had already made coffee in the clinic kitchen. She was about to pour herself a cup and sneak back to her office when Phil swept into the room. Her shoulders tensed as she hoped he didn’t hold a grudge. Wishing she could disappear, she stayed on task.
“Good morning,” he said, looking as if he’d just rolled out of bed, hair left however it had dried after his shower.
“Hi,” she said. She didn’t want to spend the next two months avoiding one of the clinic partners. Phil had been very nice at first, it seemed to come naturally to him, and, well, she needed him to forgive her. “Look, I’m sorry about the other night.”
“Forget about it. Like you said, I didn’t leave you much choice.” He scrubbed his face as if trying to wake up. “Didn’t realize you had a problem with kids.” He glanced at her, curiosity in his eyes, but he left all his questions unspoken.
She had no intention of opening up to him, and hoped he’d let things lie. Maybe if she changed the topic?
She lifted the pot. “Can I pour you a cup, too?”
“Definitely. Robbie kept me up half the night with his coughing.”
“Anything wrong?” She leaned against the counter.
“No virus. Just an annoying cough. He’s had it since he was a baby.” He accepted the proffered mug and took a quick swig. “Ahh.”
