“The family clearly cares about their child and I gather are willing to do what it takes for Brian to recover. I’ll be speaking with them first thing in the morning to determine any additional needs.”
Dr. O’Doherty gave her a quick nod and with a rap of his knuckles on the door entered the room. Along with the rest of their group, Lucy moved to stand next to the boy’s bed.
The parents of the boy came to stand across the bed from the group. Dr. O’Doherty paid them no attention.
“Brian, how’re you feeling today?” Dr. O’Doherty asked.
The eight-year-old boy offered a weak smile. His entire head was swathed in white gauze. His eyes had dark circles under them and there was puffiness about his face that lingered from having surgery.
“Okay, I guess,” the boy said with little enthusiasm.
“Well, from all I hear from your nurse, you’re my star patient,” Dr. O’Doherty stated. “So give me a high five.”
That managed to get a slight smile out of the boy. He raised his small hand and met the doctor’s larger one with a smack.
Dr. O’Doherty pulled his hand back. “Ow! See, you’re already getting stronger.”
Brian’s smile broadened.
The doctor did have a way with kids.
“I’m going to take a look at your head. Maybe we can give you a smaller bandage.”
“It’s itchy.” The boy wrinkled his nose.
“Yes. That means you’re getting better. I’ll see if we can’t help with that problem.”
As he removed the gauze, Lucy watched the parents’ faces to gage their reactions. Death wasn’t the only time people experienced grief. A major life trauma could bring on the emotion. Lucy knew that all too well. She’d run to get away from hers.
“Will he be able to ride a bike?” the boy’s mother asked. “Do we have to worry about him falling?”
Dr. O’Doherty didn’t look at the mother as he said, “Ms. Walters, my clinical nurse, can answer those questions for you.” He continued to unwrap the bandage.
The mother looked like she’d been struck. She stepped back from the bed.
He continued to examine the surgical site then spoke to the floor nurse standing next to him. “I believe we can place a four-by-four bandage over this.” He looked at the boy. “You’ll look less like a pirate but it won’t be so itchy.”
That statement brought a real smile to the boy’s face.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dr. O’Doherty said, before turning to leave. He shook the big toe of the boy’s foot as he moved toward the door
The mother followed him out into the hall. “Dr. O’Doherty, we were wondering what to expect next,” the mother said, tears filling her eyes.
“My nurse will answer all your questions.”
Lucy compressed her lips. Where had all the charm that had oozed from him seconds before gone?
“Will he ever be like he was?” The mother’s eyes pleaded to know.
“I don’t make those kinds of promises,” Dr. O’Doherty clipped.
The mother looked stricken again.
This man had a sterling bedside manner where his patients were concerned but he sure lacked finesse with the parents. Why was he suddenly so cold?
Lucy stepped forward, not looking at Dr. O’Doherty for permission. She placed an arm around the woman’s shoulders. “Mrs. Banasiak, I’m Lucy Edwards, the family counselor. I think I can help answer some of your questions.”
The mother sagged in relief. She shot a look at Dr. O’Doherty and then said to Lucy, “Thank you, so much.”
Dr. O’Doherty progressed on down the hall with his group in tow without a backward glance. Lucy hung back to speak to the parents further. The watery eyes and fragile smile of the mother touched Lucy’s heart. These were the type of people who needed her. It felt good to be using her skills again.
* * *
Ryan paused in front of the last patient-to-be-seen door. Turning, he waited for the group to join him. Ms. Edwards was missing. Should he really be surprised? He discussed the patient, while his frustration grew. She could speak to the parents on her own time.
“We’re glad you could join us,” he said when she finally walked up.
Her eyes didn’t meet his. The woman didn’t like having the spotlight on her. By the way she dressed and spoke so softly, he guessed she spent most of her time in the shadows. “I needed to reassure the parents,” she said quietly.
Pushing the door of the patient room open, he stepped in. “Hi, Lauren,” he said to the ten-year-old sitting up in bed, watching TV. “I believe you’ll be ready to go home tomorrow. How does that sound?”
The grandmother, who was the girl’s caretaker, stepped to the bed. “That’s wonderful. What do we need to do about getting her back in school when the time comes?”
A soft but strong voice beside him said, “I’ll help with that.”
“This is Lucy Edwards,” he said to the grandmother. “She’s my family counselor.”
The only indication that Ms. Edwards didn’t appreciate the word “my” was the slight tightening around her lips. That had been entirely the wrong thing to say. He didn’t know how to repair the faux pas gracefully in front of a patient’s family so he continued speaking to the grandmother. He’d apologize to Ms. Edwards later.
This quiet, gentle-voiced woman wasn’t his anything. She wasn’t even his type. He was used to dating freer-spirited women, who thought less and laughed more. Those who were loud and boisterous and were not interested in emotional attachments. Ms. Edwards had already demonstrated she was the touchy-feely type.
He left the room while the grandmother rattled off a list of questions for Ms. Edwards.
After answering a page, he returned to the nurses’ station in search of Ms. Edwards. Not seeing her, he was forced to ask where her office was located. He’d never paid much attention to the family counselors. He knew they had a job to do and as far as he was concerned they did it. Rarely did he interact with one outside other than when they asked him a question or left a note on a chart.
He knocked lightly on the nondescript door with a small plate that showed he was in the correct place. The door was opened by a woman he recognized. “Hi, Ryan. What’s up?”
“Hello, Nancy. I was trying to find Ms. Edwards.”
“Yes-s-s.” The word being drawn out came from inside. He’d found the right place. Ms. Edwards put far too many syllables in a word. He glanced around the woman in front of him. Ms. Edwards looked at him with wide, questioning eyes.
“I’ll get out of your way. It’s time to head home anyway,” the older woman said. “Nice to see you, Ryan.”
“You too.” He smiled as she left and stepped into the doorway, holding the door open. “Do you mind if I come in a minute?”
The new counselor looked unsure but nodded her agreement.
He’d received warmer welcomes but guessed he couldn’t blame her, considering their less than congenial start. She sat at the desk furthest away from the door. Her eyes resembled those of a startled animal as he pushed the door closed behind him. The look eased when he sat down in the chair furthest from her. Was she afraid of him? He conjured up one of his friendliest smiles.
She