Nerds pocket pets, p.2
Nerd's Pocket Pets, page 2
To achieve a bond with these sick kids would be an unbelievable success. Whatever it took, he was willing for. If bringing in an experienced, bright, attractive young physician assistant accomplished his goals, wonderful. He and the rest of the staff could observe her techniques and learn from her. It was a plus for them that their new employee came packaged in a bright, sweet gift like Shelby Conway.
When he arrived at the office, the area was still dark. He must have left home earlier than usual. Sam made coffee, checked the fax machine, listened to his voice mail, and puttered.
By the time the office staff arrived, he had finished his assigned tasks and was beginning to tap his fingers. Shelby arrived early, with a bright smile.
When she beamed like that, he lost all coherent thought and gloried in the sunshine of her smile. He couldn’t imagine a sick child not responding to her bubbling energy and enthusiasm.
They had obviously made the right decision.
Who cared if he liked Shelby Conway the woman, too? Who cared if something about her touched him on a very primal basis? Like he already knew her? She seemed like someone he had known a long time.
This woman had chosen pediatrics, like him. That likely meant she liked kids and planned for them in her future. He couldn’t give them to her, so again, women like her weren’t interested in men like him.
The reminder didn’t penetrate this time any better than the last forty times he had repeated them. Sam sighed.
He had already made his peace with his feelings on this subject. Shelby Conway was off limits. Not only was it unprofessional, but a romantic relationship was also as likely as him being chosen for a Nobel Peace Prize. Attractive women weren’t attracted to huge bald guys. And huge bald guys who took care of sick kids weren’t likely to be chosen for a peace prize. Even if the ugly guys were doctors.
Chapter 3
Sam watched closely, but knew he had just encountered... well, to say they were eyeballs seemed strange, weird even. But that’s what happened just now – something had definitely stared him down from Shelby’s lab coat pocket. A lab coat she herself brought with her each morning. Even though it was common practice that one’s place of business supplied the personnel’s lab coats.
Each pocket of Shelby’s personal coat seemed filled and now, standing across their patient’s bed from her, he was certain her left hip pocket wiggled. He should have been more startled, but for some reason, he wasn’t. He had witnessed every one of her pockets produce a similar motion. Both here in the hospital during rounds and while in the office, at the coffee machine, during examinations, and once after she came in from outside.
He wondered if his new assistant had some sort of disease where her body parts wriggled at various intervals. Sam watched the pocket, but as Shelby monitored their patient, nothing happened. Had the movement been a part of his imagination? But even as he doubted his sanity, her left breast pocket squirmed.
Squirmed? Did she have something wrong with the left side of her body? And was it just him or did her lab coat pockets seem larger than normal?
Sam shook his head and decided he was nuts. Why on earth would her pockets move? Relief flooded him when Shelby interrupted his musings.
“Dr. Welby, would you like me to cancel the intravenous drip? Marcus seems to be responding well, and he’s asked for food twice now.” She smiled at the little boy on the bed.
Sam enjoyed the way their patient’s eyes lit up. He didn’t know whether Marcus’ delight was a result of the thought of food or because of Shelby. Maybe a combination of both. Sam knew he’d like to combine the two. Stop, he cautioned himself.
He was distracted from his thoughts when he noticed Marcus’ eyes following Shelby, but not her, per se. Marcus also watched her pockets.
Huh?
So maybe he wasn’t insane, and there really was something going on. Shouldn’t he know about whatever it was since this was his office? Shouldn’t he at least be able to define whatever it was? Perhaps this was why he was having such trouble just coming out and asking her. How did someone even start up such a conversation?
Shelby’s right eyebrow rose and he realized she caught him staring at her... umm... certain parts of her anatomy. And trying to clarify his actions by stating that he thought her lab coat pockets moved sounded like a crazy – bordering on creepy – explanation. Sam kept quiet after deciding he needed more information. The thought that he might be heading toward Crazytown, or worse, Weirdosville, was not reassuring.
Instead, he read over Marcus’ patient chart and saw it should be fine for him to eat. That the little guy wanted food was a huge step in his survival process. Most of their patients weren’t interested in eating – they most often were beyond caring about anything. Since Shelby had come on board, more and more of their patients showed an interest in things they normally didn’t.
Like wanting to eat, or drink. Some of them even wanted to play. Others weren’t as dependent on their parents. She had even coaxed a few of them out of bed. No one on his staff, or the hospital’s, managed this task as early into their treatment as she did.
How did she do it?
Sam noticed a disturbing trend here. He had an awful lot of questions, but so far no answers. He couldn’t just come out and ask her why her lab coat pockets wriggled. That might prove embarrassing for her if there was something wrong. But there had to be a way he could ask, or if all else failed, to figure out on his own what was going on. Maybe what he needed was a good plan. Hmmm.
Shelby glanced at her new boss. He was still the hottest man she had ever seen, and she was pretty certain she’d just caught him staring at her breasts. While such a lecherous act would normally turn her off, she didn’t think he had been staring at her actual breasts. If he had, she might have welcomed his perusal.
Yet he seemed to be watching for something other than the usual feminine curves, however. But what? A horrifying thought occurred to her and she nearly choked. Please don’t choke, she coached herself. Choking would be bad. Her air passages still threatened to close off as the thought rose and struck with painful accuracy.
What if Sam Welby was gay?
Every one of her female hormones and instincts protested. And she with them. He couldn’t be gay. That would be a terrible waste of such impressive masculinity. This man turned on every nerve ending she possessed.
Made her hormones fight with each other over him. And that had certainly never happened before. She wanted him. Bad. If he was gay, she might have to reevaluate everything that made her female.
He said something and she jerked her attention back to him. Ha. Like it ever left him anymore. The man should come with a warning sign. A big one that read, Too hot for you as she definitely had trouble breathing in his vicinity, much less thinking.
“If he wants to eat, we’ll let him.” Dr. Welby grinned at Marcus and her heart flipped. “You may change your mind, buddy, when you taste the food though.”
Marcus grinned back and Sam tickled his fingers over the little fellow’s bare head. “Could cause baldness,” he commented mock seriously.
“Like you?” Their patient looked so solemn. Shelby suppressed a grin. She loved Sam’s bedside manner. Oh don’t go there.
Sam nodded, and maintained the serious demeanor. “Of course. Remember, I don’t have to buy shampoo.” Marcus giggled.
“Let’s not rub these things in.” Shelby pretended to scowl at him.
They had discovered the kids loved when they played together. She enjoyed performing, often, with Sam Welby. Enough... she scolded herself. Get your mind back on your job. Have fun with their game for Marcus’ benefit. Shelby consoled herself with the thought that Sam seemed to enjoy their banter as much as she and the kids did.
Sam wrinkled his nose in the sexiest way she had ever seen. She coached herself to remain upright, and not pool at his feet. “Hair is so overrated,” he said and crossed his massive arms over the most impressive chest known to man.
“Well, I’m not shaving my head to look like you.” She would do a lot of things for him, but shaving her head was not an option.
“See,” he said to Marcus, who followed their bantering with big, curious eyes. “She doesn’t want to look like us.” He shook his head, resembling a basset hound.
“But, Shewby, we’re cool guys,” Marcus answered, staring at her. Her heart melted.
“Yes, I’ll agree with that, but I’m still not shaving my head.”
“No respect,” Sam said sadly, and Marcus giggled. The first and second laugh they managed to tug from this little guy, and all in the same visit. She would rejoice more except this cute little kid might not see his next birthday, even with all the care they provided. Those thoughts hardened into resolve. She patted her left hip pocket. He’d see his next birthday if she had any say.
Fighting the Grim Reaper wasn’t her favorite part of the job, but she had some secret weapons that when unleashed, caused the Reaper to rear away in horror. Oh yes, she planned to unleash everything she had to save each kid.
With a near snigger, Shelby recalled herself to her job, again. Next she’d be buying a cape and embossing her shirts with letters. Was there a superhero named Super Physicians Assistant? They could call her Super PA, and it could double as nomenclature for their esteemed state. She almost lost the struggle not to snort as she pictured Sam in a matching cape with a letter decorating his shirt. How about an H for Hottie?
She obviously needed psychiatric care.
Shelby went about ordering Marcus a meal, then disconnected his intravenous line. A nurse could do it, but since she had Marcus’ trust, she did the work while she and Sam verbally sparred. Sam added notes to the patient chart while they worked. Then they would move on to the next bed, with the next sick child, then the next.
Once Sam left, she could tug out the ace up her sleeve, or in this case, in her pockets. Since she was sure her aces weren’t regulation, and controversial, even though she had parental permission, she planned to wait until her boss left before she spent more quality time with the kids.
Her eyes lit on each bed in this ward and her heart ached. They couldn’t save every child here, but they gave everything they had to try.
Chapter 4
When she entered her house that evening, Shelby paused by the blinking light of her answering machine. Pressing the button, she stripped out of her work top and skirt as the message played.
“Shelby, this is Dr. Greenbaum. Please call me as soon as you get this message. You can call me at any time.” The doctor left her mobile number.
That quickly, Shelby’s world bottomed out. She swallowed, and with tears pricking her eyes, slowly punched in the number. That Dr. Greenbaum had supplied a patient with her cell phone number caused Shelby’s stomach to flip, and not in a nice way. Another hard swallow dislodged the ball of despair forming in her throat.
“Hello?”
“Dr. Greenbaum? It’s Shelby Conway. I just got your message.”
“Ah, Shelby,” and she heard the bad news in her doctor’s voice. “I have some news.”
“Yes?” Shelby whispered.
“Remember how I encouraged you to find your birth family?”
“Yes.”
“I wanted you to do so in case your tests kept coming back like they have been,” and she heard the doctor pause to take a deep breath. “Shelby, the results are abnormal now. All the newest tests have proven you are in the beginning stages of leukemia.”
Shelby knew this news should have been delivered in Dr. Greenbaum’s office, but since she was living in Pennsylvania now, that wasn’t possible. It might have been easier to take had she been in a generic, sterile room. Then again, maybe not. Her chest suddenly hurt and her stomach lurched and clamped as she sank into a nearby chair.
“What should I do?” She pushed the words through an aching throat, through that ball of despair that kept trying to reform.
“I suggest you find another doctor there, immediately, and inform them of my diagnosis. Your new physician can run the same tests I have. Find an oncologist. It’s too bad Sam Welby is a pediatrician, because he’d be my recommendation.”
“I’m working for him.” The words seemed smaller now, squeezed past the lump she couldn’t seem to swallow away.
“Really? That’s actually in your favor. Ask Sam to refer you to an oncologist he trusts. Make an appointment immediately. You’re in the medical profession, you know what to expect. You need care or at least peace of mind if my diagnosis is wrong.” Shelby didn’t think Dr. Greenbaum had made a mistake, not if the solemnity in her voice was any sort of indication “Have you located your family?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve only been here a month. I’m trying to figure out my work, unpack, and learn my way around a new town, and a new state.” Shelby heard the defensive note in her voice.
“I understand. But at this point, you need to locate your family. Shelby, you might eventually need a bone marrow transplant. Your family is the best possibility for a match. You know this,” Dr. Greenbaum said quietly.
“I know. I’ll resume my search. I think I know who my mother is. I haven’t been able to track my father down, though.”
“Find an oncologist, and meet your family. You’re going to need both,” Dr. Greenbaum directed before they said goodbye.
Shelby dropped her head to her arms and sobbed.
Emma Morrison held a hand to her beating heart. This was the first time she would meet Admiral Richard O’Riley in person. They had corresponded regularly for nearly three years, but because of their schedules, they’d been unable to swing an in-person meeting.
That was about to change. They had finally arranged one weekend when they could meet. She brushed her hair out again, wanting her appearance perfect. Her heart fluttered at the thought of meeting this man.
She couldn’t remember being this nervous since a time, over thirty years ago when she met a sailor she had to have. And she had. They met, came together in an explosion of need, and separated just as quickly. He’d been on his way to war and she managed to involve herself in the war effort in other ways.
They never even exchanged names, but she remembered him vividly. No other man had fired her neurons like him. That lean, handsome man who had been perfect in every regard. Never had she met such a man before or since.
Now, though, Rich O’Riley might be able to force that man into a hazy memory. It would be nice to exorcise the ghost who haunted her in the lonely hours of the night.
Sweeping another glance over herself, Emma turned for a rear view, and satisfied she appeared as presentable as possible, left her bedroom. Taking the stairs, she tried to calm herself. Something about this man drew her like that one so many years ago.
That man, in his early twenties, had left a lasting impression. On both her heart and her body. But now it was time to move on. She hadn’t been successful in any of her searches to find him, that mystery man from so long ago. Now she planned to move on. Forget him. And embrace something new and different with Rich O’Riley.
At least she had started with this man’s name. Sighing at her stupid former self, Emma turned from the mirror at the bottom of the stairs. She had certainly aged from that woman thirty years past. A woman just out of girlhood then. She enjoyed one night with her dream man so long ago and then he disappeared into the night.
All she knew about him was he’d been a member of an elite Navy team, much like her nephew Ben. A SEAL, she thought, but she wasn’t certain. He had been eager to go, but desperate to hang on to every moment they shared, just like her.
In the morning when he left, she thought her heart would break. But she figured she could get over him and move on. Unfortunately, that hadn’t happened. Unforeseen circumstances reared up to wreak havoc on her heart. The war interfered, and she never did learn his name.
Rich O’Riley. This man would erase her memories of the other one. Then she would finally be free of him. Be free to move on. She was tired of being lonely. Tired of waiting for her first love to return and claim her.
Emma sniffed and dabbed a tear as she thought of him maybe dying over in some foreign country. She didn’t know his fate, and never would now. If he had perished, she would never know. A name. So important. If she had begged for his name that night, she would have been able to find him. But then, she never once offered her name, either.
How utterly stupid they had been. She had allowed the love of a lifetime to slip through her fingers. She had been faithful to it all these years but no longer. When the doorbell rang, Emma smoothed a shaking hand down her skirt and made a vow. If Rich O’Riley proved anywhere decent, she wouldn’t allow him to disappear without a fight.
Once was enough. She placed a smile on her face and opened the door to her fate.
Chapter 5
Around where Shelby lay in a defeated heap on the floor, a little dog vied for her attention, his tail wagging his body. Her rabbit, Masie, hopped around her head, trying to help. Sylvie, the white mouse, stood on her back paws and planted a little kiss on her nose. Ribble the frog, and Sir Socks the lizard, joined Masie in the circle around her head. Zodak her hypoallergenic cat, Gusset the chipmunk and Germin the guinea pig all crawled into her hands, as though encouraging her to pick them up for a cuddle.
Still fighting the tears, Shelby eventually stood. She scooped up her pets and hugged them, taking the comfort they offered. Flopping onto her couch she thought about her supposed family. What if they didn’t want her?
