Chapter 3
Madi
Ireassured Timmy that I wasn’t mad, again, as I walked him and his mom to the receptionist. The stench of his vomit created a cloud around us. I’ll need to change before I see my next patient. Thank God I’d learned early on to always bring a change of clothes.
“Remember, electrolytes and crackers, in small doses.” I took a knee next to Timmy. “And remember, lots of rest. Can you do that?”
He nodded, making his dark hair fall over his clammy face. “Thank you, Ms. Madi.”
As a nurse practitioner, I opted for a less formal greeting than Ms. Sheppard with young patients. Adults called me Madi.
“You’re welcome.” I ruffled his hair before standing. “Call if he gets any worse,” I said to his mom.
After asking Alice, our administrative assistant-slash-receptionist to let my next patient know I’d be a few minutes late, I grabbed my bag and dashed to our private bathroom .
After rinsing off as much vomit as I could, I tied the offending shirt in a plastic bag. It’d go into the wash as soon as I got home. I’d add Natalie’s dirty clothes to the load, to help Meg out.
“Mr. Bunson is in room three,” Alice answered my question before I could ask.
Mr. Bunson, again? He was a firefighter in a neighboring town who’d come in for a minor injury because he didn’t want his chief finding out and benching him. His words.
I’d treated his sprain and advised him to take some time off.
If he was anything like my brothers, he didn’t listen.
Which is probably why he’s back today.
After knocking, I opened the door.
“Mr. Bunson, sorry for the delay. How is your wrist?”
“Please, it’s Paul. I think I re-injured it.”
I checked his chart, all his vitals looked good.
“Did you take time off?” I asked, knowing the answer. Firemen weren’t that different from police officers, or my brothers—they’d pretend the injury was nothing and work through the pain.
“No, but only because most of our calls aren’t fires.” He shrugged it off like being an EMT was nothing.
“Okay, let’s take a look.” I examined his swollen wrist. “Let me know when it hurts,” I said as I slowly, carefully rotated his wrist.
He didn’t answer, but his sharp intake of breath told me what I needed to know.
“I suggest an X-ray to make sure it isn’t broken.”
“Can you do that here?” His eyes roamed down my body and back up.
Ignoring his inappropriate leering, I stepped back.
God knows I’ve had plenty of practice ignoring badly behaved patients when I treated sailors.
“No, we don’t have the technology. I can write you a prescription for an X-ray and recommend some local clinics if you’d like.”
“That’s okay. I don’t think it’s broken. It hurts, but I can still move it.”
“I’ll write it anyway, just in case. Follow the same protocol as before: ice and ibuprofen for the swelling, and rest.”
“Thanks, Doc,” he said, sounding overly friendly.
“I’m not a doctor,” I reminded him, ignoring his flirtatious tone. “I’ll be right back with a bandage. Once I get your wrist wrapped, you’ll be good to go.”
After I wrapped his wrist, Paul asked to use the restroom. While he did, I talked to Alice.
“Any fun plans for your Friday night?” she asked.
“I’m meeting an old high school friend at the new pub in town.”
“Oh, I’ve heard good things. You’ll have to let me know if it’s any good.” She looked over my shoulder. “All set Mr. Bunson?”
I turned. “Alice has your prescriptions and a list of clinics that can take an X-ray if you change your mind.”
“When do you want to see me again?” he asked.
Paul seemed like a nice enough guy, but something about his tone, and the way his eyes lingered below my neckline gave me the chills.
“That’s not necessary,” Is he disappointed? “If you take it easy you can stop wearing the wrap in a week or two.”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Paul came here, rather than visit a local doctor, to flirt with me. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, but dating a patient wasn’t a line I’d cross. There weren’t any professional rules forbidding it, but it was my rule. A rule that’d served me well in the Navy.
A rule I wouldn’t start breaking now.
“Take care, Mr. Bunson,” I said, turning to prep for my next patient.
“See you later, Doc.”
I resisted the urge to repeat, I’m not a doctor.
I was a nurse practitioner and damn proud of it.
Unlike Jamie, I didn’t attend college right out of high school.
Instead, I enlisted in the Navy and started my nursing career when I entered the Hospital Corpsman Basic Training Program.
Not long after completing the nineteen weeks of training, I applied for the twelve month intensive “C” school advanced training so I could be an independent duty corpsman and serve on submarines and smaller ships.
My military training made earning my civilian bachelor degree a breeze.
Earning my master’s degree, so I could become a nurse practitioner, was harder but worth the extra work and sleepless nights.
The rest of my day was filled with normal family practice visits. Sick kids, wellness checkups, and minor injuries.
At the end of the day, Alice and I said goodbye to Carol before leaving.
As I locked the front door, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. My spine stiffened as I turned and scanned the street.
“You okay?” Alice asked.
“Yeah, just have that feeling that someone’s watching me.” Only no one was staring or acting suspicious.
“Ugh, I hate that feeling. Maybe you can call one of your gorgeous brothers to come escort you home.” She wiggled her eyebrows making me laugh. Alice was in her sixties, and happily married, but that didn’t mean she was blind, as she often reminded me.
It wasn’t uncommon for people to tell me how gorgeous, hot, or sexy my brothers were. Some even used descriptives that made me want to poke my ears with an ice pick.
I could concede that my brothers were good-looking men; beyond that, I’d remind them, usually with a gagging sound, that as their sister I didn’t want to hear about any sexual fantasies involving my brothers.
I mean, come on, I shared a womb with Jamie and I changed Jay’s diapers.
“You know they’re all happily married.” Jay wasn’t but he would be by the end of March.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the goods,” she said over her shoulder with a laugh as she walked down the three steps to the walkway. She stopped at the bottom, turned, and said, “Heard they hired a new guy. Wonder if he’s eye candy too.”
I will not think about Matt.
I willed my skin not to flush.
I will not think about Matt.
I jogged down the steps to catch up with her. “He’s okay.” I focused on my keys. “Good night, Alice. See you tomorrow.”
“Good night.”
I scanned the road again before walking to O.P., my Jeep. I’d named her O.P. after the one-eyed purple monster in the kid’s song. My brothers thought I was crazy, but my mom loved it.
I scanned the exterior, looking for signs of tampering. The tires looked fine, and nothing else looked amiss so I hurried into the driver seat. The instant the door was closed, I hit the lock button. Just like Dad taught me.
Was I over-reacting? Being paranoid? Probably. But one thing I’d learned growing up in a police family—it was better to be safe than sorry.
And to never ignore my instincts. A lesson serving in the Navy reinforced.
I was half way to Jack’s before I stopped glancing in the rearview mirror, expecting to see someone trailing me.
I could use a drink.
Colt’s Pub was packed, so I grabbed the only two open seats, which were by some miracle next to each other, and claimed them by slipping my light jacket over Sylvia’s bar stool before ordering the house IPA and a glass of water.
The bar had several big-screen TVs, all playing different channels, mostly sports. Seriously, who comes to a bar to watch golf? Loud music from the modern jukebox in the corner reduced the crowd to nothing but muddled background noise.
At least the IPA was good. Just what the doctor ordered.
“Is this seat taken?”
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as I tightened my grip on my pint glass. What the hell is Paul doing here?
“It is,” I said, swiveling my stool to look at him. I pretended I didn’t recognize his voice. “Oh, hi Paul. What are you doing so far from home?”
“I heard this bar was worth the drive.”
Had he overheard me at the clinic? Nah, he wouldn’t have. Would he? No. Colt’s had marketed to the surrounding towns and was quickly making a name for itself.
“I don’t see a drink.” He nodded his head towards the empty bar top in front of the empty seat.
“My friend’s running a little late, but should be here any second.” I intentionally left her gender out of my answer.
“I could keep you company while you wait.” He moved a little closer and reached to move my jacket.
“Thanks, but it’s not necessary.”
The muscles in my shoulders tensed more and more as the unwanted conversation continued.
Paul didn’t do or say anything inherently bad, but I didn’t want his attention and I didn’t return his affection.
My phone vibrated on the counter, but I ignored it.
“I don’t mind.”
I need to nip this in the bud. Resorting to formality, I said, “Mr. Bunson-”
“Paul.” He smiled.
“Paul, I have a strict no dating patients policy.” There, I’d said it, even though he hadn’t asked me out.
“That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”
Why can’t he take a hint? I looked towards the door, hoping to see Sylvia.
Maybe he’d had a drink or two, making him slow on the uptake.
Or maybe he was one of those guys who needed to be hit over the head with a bat to take a hint.
Either way, I needed to end the conversation and send him on his way.