Читать книгу Christmas Kisses Collection - Джанис Мейнард, Louise Allen - Страница 18

EDITH DIDN’T LOOK much the worse for wear when McKenzie entered her hospital room. The elderly woman lay in her bed in the standard drab hospital gown beneath a white blanket and sheet that were pulled up to beneath her armpits. Her skin was still a pasty pale color that blended too well with her bed covering and had poor turgor, despite the intravenous fluids. Oxygen was being delivered via a nasal cannula. Edith’s short salt-and-pepper hair was sticking up every which way about her head as if she’d been restless. Or maybe she’d just run her fingers through her hair a lot.

“Hello, Edith, how are you feeling since I last saw you at the office earlier today?”

Pushing her glasses back on her nose, the woman shrugged her frail shoulders. “About the same.”

Which was a better answer than feeling worse.

“Any more blood?”

Edith shifted, rearranging pillows. “Not that I’ve seen.”

“Are you spitting up anything?”

She shook her head in a slow motion, as if to continue to answer required too much effort. “I was coughing up some yellowish stuff, but haven’t since I got to the hospital.”

“Hmm, I’m going to take a look and listen to you again, and then one of my colleagues whom you’ve met before will also be checking you. Dr. Spencer.”

“I know him. Handsome fellow. Great smile. Happy eyes.”

Lance did have happy eyes. He had a great smile, too. But she didn’t want thoughts of that happy-eyed handsome man with his great smile interfering with her work, so she just gave Edith a tight smile. “That would be him.”

“He your fellow?”

McKenzie’s heart just about stopped.

Grateful she’d just put her stethoscope diaphragm to the woman’s chest, McKenzie hesitated in answering. Was Lance her fellow? Was that what she’d agreed to earlier?

Essentially she had agreed to date him, but calling him her fellow seemed a far stretch from their earlier conversation.

She made note of the slight arrhythmia present in the woman’s cardiac sounds, nothing new, just a chronic issue that sometimes flared up. Edith had a cardiologist she saw regularly. Perhaps McKenzie would consult him also. First, she’d get an EKG and cardiac enzymes, just to be on the safe side.

“Take a deep breath for me,” she encouraged. Edith’s lung sounds were not very strong, but really weren’t any different from her usual shallow and crackly breaths. “I’m going to have to see why your chest X-ray isn’t available. They did do it?”

The woman nodded. “They brought the machine here and did the X-ray with me in bed.”

Interesting, as Edith could get up with assistance and had walked out of the clinic of her own free will with a nurse at her side. Plus, she’d had to go to the radiology department for the CT of her abdomen. They would have taken her by wheelchair, so why the bedside X-ray rather than doing it in Radiology?

There might be a perfectly logical reason why they’d done a portable chest X-ray instead of just doing it while she’d been there for her CT scan, McKenzie told herself.

“Is there something wrong?” Edith asked.

“You’re in the hospital, so obviously everything’s not right,” McKenzie began. “It concerns me that you saw blood when you spat up earlier. I need to figure out where that blood came from. Your esophagus? Your stomach? Your lungs? Then there’s your pain. How would you rate it currently?”

“My stomach? Maybe a two or three out of ten,” Edith answered, making McKenzie question if she should have sent the woman home and just seen her back in clinic in the morning.

Maybe she’d overreacted when Edith had mentioned seeing the blood. No, that was a new complaint for the woman and McKenzie’s gut instinct said more was going on here than met the eye. Edith didn’t look herself. She was paler, weaker.

“Does anywhere else hurt?”

“Not really.”

“Explain,” she prompted, knowing how Edith could be vague.

“Nothing that’s worth mentioning.”

Which could mean anything with the elderly woman.

“Edith, if there’s anything hurting or bothering you, I need to know so I can have everything checked out before I release you from the hospital. I want to make sure that we don’t miss anything.”

McKenzie listened to Edith’s abdomen, then palpated it, making sure nothing was grossly abnormal that hadn’t shown on Edith’s CT scan.

“I’m fine.” The woman patted McKenzie’s hand and any moment McKenzie expected to be called dearie. She finished her examination and was beginning to decide she’d truly jumped the gun on the admission when Lance stepped into the room.

“Hey, beautiful. What’s a classy lady like you doing in a joint like this?”

McKenzie shook her head at Lance’s entrance. The man was a nut. One who had just put a big smile on Edith’s pale face.

“What’s a hunky dude like you doing wearing pajamas to work?”

McKenzie blinked. Never had she heard Edith talk in such a manner.

Lance laughed. “They’re scrubs, not pajamas, and you and I have had this conversation in the past. Good to note your memory is intact.”

“That your fancy way of saying I haven’t lost my marbles?”

“Something like that.” He turned to McKenzie. “I’m a little confused about why they did a portable chest X-ray rather than do that while she was in Radiology for her CT.”

“I wondered that myself. I’ll talk to her nurse before we leave the hospital.”

“We?” Edith piped up.

Before Lance could say or reveal anything that McKenzie wasn’t sure she wanted to share with the elderly woman, McKenzie cleared her throat. “I suspect Dr. Spencer will be going home at some point this evening, and I certainly plan to go home too.”

After real food and frozen yogurt.

And mouth-to-mouth.

Her cheeks caught fire and she prayed Edith didn’t notice because the woman wouldn’t bother filtering her comments and obviously she had no qualms about teasing Lance.

“After looking over everything, I’m thinking you just needed a vacation,” Lance suggested.

To McKenzie’s surprise, Edith sighed. “You know it’s bad when your husband’s doctor says you need a vacation.”

Edith’s husband had been gone for a few years. He’d died about the time McKenzie had returned to Coopersville and started practicing at the clinic. Edith and her husband must have been patients of Lance’s prior to his death. Had the woman changed doctors at the clinic because McKenzie hadn’t known her husband and therefore she’d make no associations when seeing her?

No wonder he’d been so familiar with Edith.

“What do you think is going on, Edith?” Lance asked, removing his stethoscope from his lab coat pocket.

“I think you and my doctor are up to monkey business.”

McKenzie’s jaw dropped.

Lance grinned. “Monkey business, eh? Is that what practicing medicine is called these days?”

“Practicing medicine isn’t the business I was talking about. You know what I meant,” the older woman accused, wagging her finger at him.

“As did you when I asked what you thought was going on,” Lance countered, not fazed by her good-natured fussing.

The woman sighed and seemed to lose some of her gusto. “I’m not sure. My stomach has been hurting, but I just figured it was my constipation. Then today I saw that blood when I spit up, so I wasn’t sure what was going on and thought I’d better let Dr. Sanders check me.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“Me, too,” the woman admitted, looking every one of her eighty years and then a few. “I definitely feel better now than I did earlier. I think the oxygen is helping.”

“Were you having a hard time breathing, Edith?”

“Not really. I just felt like air was having trouble getting into my body.”

More symptoms Edith had failed to mention.

“Any weight gain?”

“She was two pounds heavier than at her last office visit a couple of weeks ago,” McKenzie answered, knowing where his mind was going. “Her feet and ankles have one plus nonpitting edema and she says her wedding band,” which Edith had never stopped wearing after her husband’s death, “isn’t tighter than normal.”

While Lance checked her over from head to toe, McKenzie logged in to the computer system and began charting her notes.

“Chest is noisy.” Lance had obviously heard the extra sounds in Edith’s lungs, too. They were difficult to miss. “Let’s get a CT of her chest and maybe a D-dimer, too.”

She’d already planned to order both.

“I’ve added the chest CT and a BNP to her labs, and recommended proceeding with the D-dimer if her BNP is elevated.” McKenzie agreed with his suggestions. “Anything else you can think of?”

He shook his head. “Maybe a sputum culture, just in case, but otherwise I think you’ve covered everything.”

Not everything. With the human body there were so many little intricate things that could go wrong that it was impossible to cover every contingency. Especially in someone Edith’s age when things were already not working as efficiently.

They stayed in Edith’s room for a few more minutes, talking to her and trying to ascertain more clues about what was going on with her, then spoke with Edith’s nurse to check on the reason for doing the portable chest X-ray rather than having it done in the radiology department. Apparently, the machine had been having issues. Edith’s nurse was going to check with the radiologist and text McKenzie as soon as results were available.

“Anyone else you need to see before we go?” she asked Lance.

He shook his head. “I went by to check on the mayor prior to going to Edith’s room.”

“Oh,” McKenzie acknowledged, glancing his way as they crossed the hospital parking lot. The wind nipped at her and she wished she’d changed from her lab coat into her jacket. “How is he doing?”

“He’s recovering from his surgery nicely. The surgeon plans to release him to go home tomorrow as long as there are no negative changes between now and then.”

“That’s good.”

“You saved his life.”

“If I hadn’t been there, you would have done so. It’s really no big deal.”

“He thinks it is a big deal. So does his wife. They are very grateful you were there.”

McKenzie wasn’t sure what Lance expected her to say. She’d just been at the right place at the right time and had helped do what had needed to be done.

“He wants us to ride on his float in the Christmas parade.”

“What?”

“He invited us to ride on his float this Saturday.”

“I don’t want to be in the Christmas parade.” Once upon a time she’d have loved to ride on a Christmas parade float.

“You a Scrooge?”

“No, but I don’t want to ride on a Christmas float and wave at people who are staring at me.”

Ever since her fighting parents had caused a scene at school and her entire class had stared at McKenzie, as if she had somehow been responsible, McKenzie had hated being the center of attention.

“That’s fine,” he said, not fazed by her reticence. “I’ll do the waving and you stare at me.”

“How is that supposed to keep them from staring at me?”

“I’m pretty sure everyone will be staring at the mayor and not us.”

“I hope you told him no.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a half grin. “You’d hope wrong.”

She stopped walking. “I’m not into being a spectacle.”

She’d felt that way enough as a child thanks to her parents’ antics. She wouldn’t purposely put herself in that position again.

“How is participating in a community Christmas parade being a spectacle?”

She supposed he made a good point, but still…

“Besides, don’t people stare at you when you run your races?”

“Long-distance running doesn’t exactly draw a fan base.” She started toward his car again.

“That a hint for me to come cheer you on at your next run?”

She shook her head. “I don’t need anyone to cheer me on.”

“What if I want to cheer you on?”

She shook her head again. She didn’t want him or anyone else watching her run. She didn’t want to expect someone to be there and then them possibly not show up. To run because she loved running was one thing. To run and think someone was there, supporting her, and them not really be, well, she’d felt that disappointment multiple times throughout her childhood and she’d really prefer not to go down that road again.

Some things just weren’t worth repeating.

“I tell you what, if you want to come to one of my races, that’s fine. But not as a cheerleader. If you want to come,” she challenged, stopping at his car’s passenger side, “you run.”

He opened the car door and grinned. “You’re inviting me to be on your team? I like the sound of that.”

“There are no teams in the races I run.”

“No? Well, maybe you’re running in the wrong races.”

“I’m not.” She climbed into the seat and pulled the door to. She could hear his laughter as he rounded the car.

“You have yourself a deal, McKenzie,” he said as he climbed into the driver’s seat and buckled his seat belt. “I’ll run with you. When’s your next race?”

“I just did a half marathon on Saturday morning.” She thought over her schedule a moment. “I’m signed up for one on New Year’s Day morning. You should be able to still get signed up. It’s a local charity run so the guidelines aren’t strict.”

“Length?”

“It’s not a real long one, just a five-kilometer. Think you can do that?” she challenged. He was fit, but being fit didn’t mean one could run. She’d learned that with a few friends who’d wanted to go with her. They’d been exercise queens, but not so much into running. McKenzie was the opposite. She was way too uncoordinated to do dancing, or anything that required group coordination, but she was a boss when it came to running.

His lips twitched with obvious amusement at her challenge. “You don’t have the exclusive on running, you know.”

“I’ve never seen you out running,” she pointed out.

“You’ve never seen me take a shower either, but I promise you I do so on a regular basis.”

Lance. In the shower. Naked. Water sluicing over his body. She gulped. Not an image she wanted in her head. “Probably all cold ones.”

Maybe she needed a cold one to douse the images of him in the shower because her imagination was going hot, hot, hot.

He chuckled. “Only lately.”

That got her attention. “You’re taking cold showers because of me?”

“What do you think?”

“That we shouldn’t be having this conversation.” She stared at him, unable to help asking again. “I’m really why you need to take cold showers lately?”

He grinned. “I was only teasing, McKenzie. I haven’t taken a cold shower in years.”

“That I believe.”

“But not that I might be rejected and need cold water?”

“I doubt you’re rejected often.”

“Rarely, but it does happen from time to time.”

“Is that why you’re here with me?”

“Because you rejected me?” He shook his head. “I’m here with you because you were smart enough to say yes to getting frozen yogurt with me.”

“And real food,” she reminded him as he put his car into reverse. “Don’t forget you have to feed me real food before plying me with dessert.”

McKenzie closed her mouth around her spoonful of frozen birthday-cake yogurt and slowly pulled the utensil from her mouth, leaving behind some of the cold, creamy substance.

“Good?”

Her gaze cut to the man sitting across the small round table from her. “What do you think?”

“That watching you eat frozen yogurt should come with a black-label warning.”

“Am I dangerous to your health?”

“Just my peace of mind.”

McKenzie’s lips twitched. “That makes us even.”

They’d gone to a local steak house and McKenzie had gotten grilled chicken, broccoli and a side salad. She’d been so full when they’d left the restaurant that if not for Lance’s insistence that they do their part to support the Toys for Tots, she’d have begged off dessert. She’d been happy to discover the old adage about there always being room for ice cream had held true for frozen yogurt. She was enjoying the cold goodness.

She was also enjoying the company.

Lance had kept their conversation light, fun. They’d talked about everything from their favorite sports teams, to which McKenzie had had to admit she didn’t actually have favorites, to talking about medical school. They’d argued in fun about a new reality singing television program she’d been surprised to learn he watched. Often she’d sit and have the show on while she was logged in to the clinic’s remote computer system and working on her charts. He did the same.

“I’m glad you said yes, McKenzie.”

“To frozen yogurt?”

“To me.”

Taking another bite, she shook her head. “I didn’t say yes to you.”

His eyes twinkled. “That isn’t what I meant. We can take our time in that regard.”

“Really?”

For once he looked completely serious. “As much time as you want and need.”

“What if I never want or need ‘that’?”

“Then I will be reintroduced to cold showers,” he teased, taking a bite of his yogurt and not seeming at all concerned that she might not want or need “that,” which contrarily irked her a bit.

“I’m not going to jump into bed with you tonight.”

“I don’t expect you to.” He was still smiling as if they were talking about the weather rather than his sex life, or potential lack thereof.

“But if I said yes, you would jump into my bed?”

“With pleasure.”

Shaking her head, she let out a long breath. “This morning, had someone told me I’d go out to dinner with you, go for dessert with you, I’d have told them they were wrong. It’s going to take time to get used to the idea that we are an item.”

“Does it usually take a while to get used to the idea of dating someone?”

“Not ever,” she admitted.

“Why me?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe because for so long I’ve told myself I’m not allowed to date you.”

“Because of work?”

“Amongst other things.”

“Explain.”

“I’m not sure I can,” she admitted. How could she explain what she didn’t fully understand herself? Even if she could explain it to him, she wasn’t sure she’d want to. “Enough serious conversation. Tell me how you got started in community theater.”