18. Nick
18
NICK
I stood with the phone pressed to my ear on Monday afternoon. I was at the hospital doing rounds and hadn't even been to the office since last week but Emily, my head nurse, called with some concerns. This morning I'd been too busy to take her calls, but I listened to her voicemails and figured her concern was worth discussing. I found a quiet spot away from any listening ears and called her back.
"Yeah, hey, Em. I got your message. Now tell me what's going on." The voicemail indicated that she was concerned someone had messed with things in the office. I didn't see how that was possible given the fact that no one had been there all weekend, and I locked the doors myself. The building was secure.
"Sir, I just know someone's been in here. Things are moved around. It's a long story but when we left on Friday, I purposefully left the door open. It helps the air conditioning circulate to the rest of the waiting area…And so I walked in and the waiting area was hot and the door was shut."
"Yeah, go on," I sighed. I really didn't think there was any merit for this worry, but after Marjorie Whitman started snooping around again, I knew I couldn't be too nonchalant about my activities or security. I wouldn't put it past her to have snuck in and nosed around. She'd never find anything worthy of a story, but that wouldn't stop her.
"So, yeah…the papers on my desk were moved too. I keep a to-do list lying right on top of my keyboard so when I walk in I see it and know exactly what I need to start working on. Those papers were moved, Dr. Edwards. I didn't move them." She sounded startled, and I was starting to catch her worries.
My gut told me she might be right, so I said, "Alright, you call that security firm across town. Tell them we want new locks and cameras up in every public location. Nothing in any patient rooms, but everywhere else, inside and out. If you think someone has been in there, I trust you."
"Got it, boss. I'll have them come out today or tomorrow." Emily already sounded relieved, and I let her get back to her work with a promise that I'd be in later to check on things and return to my normal schedule on Wednesday.
I figured Ethan would be around another day. He'd been in the hospital since Friday night and we celebrated Easter with a turkey dinner from the cafeteria yesterday. Scarlett hadn't been home at all. She showered here in the family restroom and I brought her a change of clothes, but she was one stubborn mama, refusing to leave her son's side.
Making my last few stops, I decided to visit with Scarlett and Ethan before I took off to go to the office for the day. I'd started him on yet another new course of medication and made a few calls to the insurance company to press them for the genetic testing. If they didn't approve it soon, I planned to just pay for it myself. Scarlett didn't make enough money, and she had already refused to take mine, though it was a free gift. She wasn't prideful; she just didn't want the town to get a whiff of it and call her a gold digger. I had to respect that even though I thought it was a bad decision.
When I walked into Ethan's room, he was napping and Scarlett was watching the news. It was around the time of day I should've been seeing patients, but when I admitted Ethan, I had Emily clear my schedule for Monday and Tuesday. I spent the entire weekend waiting on Scarlett hand and foot and checking on Ethan regularly. His heart had been working too hard, and the previous medication wasn't sufficient. So we changed to a different beta blocker and added a water pill. So far so good.
"Hey," I whispered as I walked in the room, and she looked from the TV to my face.
"Hey," she said, smiling. "Ethan nodded off again, so I decided to catch up on some news." She patted the hard leather couch beside her and I walked over and sat down.
"Anything new?" I asked, and my eyes traced up the wall to the TV. The sports section was almost over, and I knew what that meant. The part of the news broadcast I hated most was coming up. Marjorie Whitman.
"Nah…the Twins won over the weekend, so if you're a baseball fan that's good." She chuckled and I gathered she wasn't a baseball fan at all. I didn't follow the sport either but having something to discuss other than Ethan's deteriorating condition was nice.
"I'm not a fan of that, but I'm a fan of you." I took her hand and brought it to my lips and kissed it. She smiled at me but her eyes stayed fixed on the screen, and I saw a bit of shock wash over her expression, which forced me to turn and look at the television.
My face was there, next to Scarlett's and the headline of Marjorie's segment read: "Scandal Claus's New Scandal?" Something inside me wanted to reach up and smash the television, but I restrained myself.
"Do we have to watch this?" I asked Scarlett with a bit too much anger in my tone. I reached for the remote but she pulled it away.
"That's my face," she hissed, and she looked shocked and hurt. My gut reaction was to shut it down, to stop the broadcast from reaching my ears—Scarlett's ears—and stop the jolt of shock or anger from happening. But then we wouldn't know what she was saying or how to defend ourselves when people started talking.
"Scarlett, we should turn it off," I said softly but gruffly. I reached again for the remote and she pushed my hand away.
"I have to know what she's going to say." Scarlett pointed the remote at the TV and I resigned myself to the fact that I had no choice. Scarlett had every right to watch the show to know what Marjorie would say about her and I couldn't stop her. And even though I figured it was just a stupid bit about how a woman was finally having pity on me and dating me, and I had no interest in knowing what they'd say, I sat there beside her for moral support.
The opening music to her segment ended and Marjorie came on the screen. She had on a red skirt suit and her hair had been teased to a perfect 90s frizz. But it was the way she spoke that got me really going. The conspiratorial way she read from the teleprompter annoyed me. I associated it with drama and I hated drama.
"Seems Evergreen Creek's own Dr. Scandal Claus, Nicholas Edwards, has a new paramour. My sources have told me that the black sheep of our quaint little town has finally found someone to love." Scenes flashed out on the screen behind her, images of Scarlett and I together in various places. I grew more tense by the second but this wasn't all bad. Maybe people would begin to see I was just a normal human worthy of a good relationship.
Scarlett, however, looked terrified and for good reason. She had a child in the mix, a child whose friends would have parents watching this. I knew the effect of town gossip and I'd lived under it for years, but Scarlett never had, and she shouldn't be subjected to this.
Marjorie went on, detailing our relationship openly and tying all my mess to Scarlett and how everyone believed she was just pitying me. I knew that wasn't true at all, so it didn't upset me, but when Marjorie started talking about Scarlett's bakery I started to get upset.
"In fact, we stopped by Bake My Day this weekend to have a word with Ms. Moore, but we weren't able to track her down. What we did find was a very willing staff member to have a chat with." The screen panned to a recording taken outside the front of the bakery, and Scarlett's eyebrows went higher.
"She didn't…" Scarlett muttered and I recognized the woman on the screen—Nellie. She was one of Scarlett's trusted employees, and she looked very upset. Scarlett looked nervous too, her once rosy cheeks were pale.
"Excuse me, Miss. Can you tell us where Ms. Moore is? We'd like a word with her."
Nellie struggled with a set of keys in the lock as Marjorie asked a few more times where Scarlett could be, and then she whipped around with so much frustration in her eyes and grumbled, "She's probably with her baby daddy." Then she turned around and stomped into the bakery and shut the door and locked it.
When the clip ended and it flashed back to Marjorie in the studio, I was feeling confused. Scarlett seemed paralyzed and emotional, but she fumbled with the remote, dropping it as the broadcast continued.
"That, folks, is the icing on this gossip host's cake." Marjorie was grinning from ear to ear. "We did a little digging and it turns out, the seven-year-old son of Ms. Scarlett Moore has no biological father listed on his birth certificate. Is it possible that our very own Dr. Scandal Claus has a secret life?—"
The screen flashed to black and I sat there staring, wondering where that was going.
"Nick, I'm sorry," Scarlett whimpered and she was crying.
I felt numb as I turned to her. "Sorry for what?" I asked, but even as the words left my mouth I knew. I'd had the brief passing thought that it was a possibility, but I couldn't believe Scarlett would be capable of keeping it a secret from me.
"There was the scandal, and I was only twenty-one. You had this whole life, and you were in a bad breakup. I?—"
"Scarlett," I said, interrupting her as the pieces started to fall into place.
"Nick, I know I should've told you and I was scared but then we were so happy together and?—"
"It's true?" I asked, slowly standing. "He's my son?" The realization didn't dawn on me. It hit me like a Mack truck.
"I can explain it all. Please, sit down and we can talk." She reached for me, but I backed away hastily.
"You hid that from me?" This wasn't happening. This was just a bad dream. I backed away in complete denial.
"Nick, please." Scarlett stood and walked toward me, dropping the remote, and I turned and walked out before she could touch me.
I wasn't mad so much as I was in utter shock. I needed air and I needed it right away. This wasn't the sort of thing I should've learned from a gossip reporter on television. Now I didn't know what to think.