40
Ruth told me she had errands to run on Thursday. “Will you be all right?” she asked.
I looked at her, wondering if she was secretly sneaking back to the hospital to volunteer and afraid to tell me.
She had been cagey about answering where she was the day before, though truth be told, I was too down and still too angry to press her on it.
“Yes. I’ll be perfectly fine in my own home,” I said, a bit more tartly than I intended.
But really, why shouldn’t she volunteer if she wanted to?
I certainly understood the appeal. And it was better than her blowing up or redecorating my house.
That was an idea, I thought as I looked around my oppressively bright kitchen.
I could peel the wallpaper off. I picked at a corner, but it had been applied too well to do it myself without a steamer.
I did look in the basement before remembering I had loaned my steamer to Janet.
The wallpaper would live to see another day after all.
I grabbed a hammer and nail and hung Susie’s painting of a cardinal in the hall, started a load of laundry, and re-vacuumed the carpets, which still had track marks on them from the last time.
And then, when the noise of the vacuum cleaner could no longer properly drown out my thoughts, I picked up the Marilyn Kleinman book and went out back to read in the sunshine.
I debated going to the park, but I was sure to see other mothers I knew there, and I just wasn’t up to the small talk yet.
The book proved just the distraction I needed, following the adventures of a girl with her aunt, who followed no one’s rules, not even her own, and I found myself laughing by the third page.
I was engrossed in chapter six when the main character ran inside to answer the ringing phone, only to be startled by how vivid the writing was. I swore I could hear the phone ringing as well.
Wait. No. That was actually my house phone. I jumped up from the chaise lounge, Pepper on my heels, as I dashed inside to answer it.
“Hello?” I said, panting slightly.
“Barbara? It’s Donna Swanson.”
I sighed. Donna was the head nurse. She had to know I didn’t work there anymore. “Hi, Donna. Listen, I—”
“Your mother-in-law is here,” Donna said.
“She’s still volunteering, then?”
There was a long pause. “She’s in a room, but hasn’t been seen by a doctor yet.”
For a moment, I thought this was a trick again. But there was no way she would do that to me a second time. Not even Ruth. Not after costing me my job. Would she? “What did she come in for?”
“They’re evaluating that now. But I think you need to come down here.”
“This is real?”
Donna didn’t hesitate this time. “I wouldn’t have called if I didn’t think you needed to be here.”
Shirley calling was one thing. But Donna meant business. I glanced at the clock. There was still plenty of time before the kids got out of school, so I’d call Janet from the hospital if I wouldn’t be out on time. “Let me just grab my purse,” I said. “I’ll be right there.”
I drove quickly, trying not to think the worst. But I was also still angry at her for the last time I was called to the hospital and its disastrous outcome. So as awful as it was to wish for her to actually be ill, I would take that over some harebrained scheme to get my job back.
I was there in under fifteen minutes, but as I pulled onto the hospital campus, I raised my sunglasses onto my head to make sure I was seeing what I thought I was seeing.
Dozens of women, most in white, some in red-and-white striped pinafores, completely blocked the main entrance to the building with large signs on sticks. Another woman in a vivid pink suit and matching pillbox hat stood on a soapbox with a megaphone at her mouth.
“—unacceptable work environment,” she was saying to cheers. “No one should have to worry that they’ll be harassed at work—especially in a profession where you’ve dedicated your lives to helping others.”
“Bring Barbara back!” Someone yelled from the crowd, and the rest of the women took up the chant. My eyes widened, and I pulled quickly into a parking spot. I had to stop this. It wasn’t appropriate at all.
I stepped out of the car and made my way toward the crowd, noting doctors and patients hanging out of windows, watching the commotion. But it looked like nearly every woman who worked at the hospital, including service staff, was out in front.
“There she is!” a voice called, and suddenly I found myself in the middle of a swarm of women embracing me and welcoming me back. I tried to extricate myself, only to find Gloria taking my arm and attempting to pull me through the throng.
“Come on,” she said.
“What is this?” I asked twice because she didn’t hear me over the chanting at first. “Where’s Ruth? Is she okay?”
“Ruth is fine,” Gloria yelled back at me. I was too stunned to even be mad that I had fallen for a trick about her health twice now. “We’re not letting you go without a fight.”
When I reached the front of the crowd, Janet emerged and hugged me tightly. “You did this?” I asked.
“Ruth and I did,” she said. “As soon as you told me, I went to talk to her, and then we called Beverly.”
I looked over her shoulder at the woman in the suit—I knew her from synagogue.
Beverly Diamond had taken the community by storm last year when she threw her campaign manager husband out for cheating, only to become the campaign manager herself for the opposing candidate.
Now she wrote a politics column for women in The Washington Post .
I had always liked her, but I hadn’t been around a lot in the last two years.
“Barbara,” she said warmly, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “So glad you could make it.”
“What is all this?” I asked again.
Beverly smiled warmly. “This,” she said gesturing toward the crowd, “is a strike.”
“A strike? But what about the patients?”
“The doctors are on duty until the nurses’ demands are met.”
“There’s a skeleton crew inside still,” Gloria said. “For the critical care patients and emergencies.”
I felt a lot less certain than Beverly looked. “But what if the hospital just fires them all?” There were a lot of women here whose families depended on them for these jobs. I would never sleep again if I cost them their jobs, even though I didn’t organize any of this.
“They won’t,” Beverly said confidently. “That’s why they have a union.”
I was so confused. “But you’re not a nurse or in their union,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
She smiled again. “Representing you.”
“Are you a lawyer now?”
“No,” she said, pointing a thumb over her shoulder at a very grumpy-looking man who stood behind her. “But he is. Barbara Feldman, meet Stuart Friedman.”
The name rang a bell. “Wasn’t he—?”
“He’s Senator Landau’s chief of staff,” Beverly said smoothly. “And he’s here as a personal favor to me, so don’t you worry about money. Right, Stuart?”
The grumpy man nodded, which somehow made him look even more cross. But he held out a hand, and I shook it. “Nice to meet you,” I said.
“Likewise,” he said. Then he checked his watch. “Let’s get this over with. I need to get back to the office.”
“Michael can function without you for an afternoon,” Beverly said, completely unfazed by his attitude. “But yes, let’s take care of this so that the patients can get back to getting the care they deserve. Shall we?” She gestured toward the front door of the hospital.
“Shall we what?” I asked, my anxiety rising as I looked at the entrance. I was back to dreading walking into that building.
“Get you your job back,” Beverly said gently.
“I don’t think—”
“We’re not going back to work without you,” Donna said, appearing at my shoulder. “Any of us.”
I looked at her. “Why?”
“You stood up for us,” Gloria said. “We’re just returning the favor.”
“Dr. Howe has terrorized the nurses long enough,” Donna said. “That ends today. One way or another.”
“There’s only one way,” Beverly said firmly. “The only person Stuart here has ever lost to was me. And I haven’t lost yet.”
Buoyed by Gloria on one side and Janet on the other, I followed Beverly and Stuart through the doors of the hospital, across the lobby, into the elevator, and eventually across the hall to Dr. Harper’s office, where Ruth and Mrs. Kline stood in front of the door, their arms crossed in matching stances of determination.
“What—?”
“Making sure he doesn’t sneak out,” Ruth said, embracing me quickly but fiercely. “I’m sorry, Barbara. I never meant for this to happen. But we’re going to fix it.”
I stared at the indomitable woman in front of me, humbled by her admission of guilt. “It’s okay,” I said slowly. “Even if this doesn’t work. I know you meant well.”
She patted my arm and started to say something else, but Mrs. Kline spoke first. “I was never kind to you,” she said. “But you made sure I was treated fairly every time. When Ruth told me what happened, I wanted to be here.”
Mrs. Kline coming to my defense. Clearly I was downstairs in a coma because I would have assumed I would marry Dr. Howe before that would happen.
“Thank you,” I stammered.
“Are you ready?” Beverly asked me.
“No,” I said honestly. “I’m still pretty blindsided by all this.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “It’s actually better that you didn’t call me or start the strike yourself.” She squared her shoulders. “Come on, Stuart. Time to do an honest day’s work.”
The irritable expression disappeared. “After you,” he said, grinning. “I do love watching you eviscerate people— other people, that is.”
She elbowed him with a playfulness that surprised me. They were clearly close. I remembered gossip from the campaign, when people said Beverly was completely at odds with Michael Landau’s childhood best friend who was running his campaign until she came barreling into their lives.
Beverly rapped firmly on the door. A moment later, Dr. Harper’s head emerged. He saw Ruth and Mrs. Kline and started to retreat again, but Stuart put a foot in the doorway.
“Dr. Harper,” Beverly said, sticking out her hand. “Beverly Gelman Diamond.” She stressed her maiden name because her father had been a prominent congressman for years. “My associate”—she pointed to Stuart—“and I are here today to talk to you about the wrongful termination of Barbara Feldman.”
Dr. Harper looked at me plaintively. “Barbara,” he said. “Please call this off. I did what I had to do.”
“Mrs. Feldman had nothing to do with the strike,” Beverly said. “The nurses called that on their own and are refusing to return unless their demands are met. May we come in? I think we would all like to see this resolved today.”
Stuart glowered menacingly, and Dr. Harper opened his office door. Beverly gestured for me to take one of the seats across from his desk, and she settled herself in the other. “Chairs?” she asked Stuart.
He rolled his eyes but complied, going to a nearby waiting area to procure seats for himself, Ruth, and Donna, who had followed us inside. Beverly asked Gloria, Janet, and Mrs. Kline to wait in the hall.
“Now,” Beverly said, when everyone was settled. “After speaking at great length with Nurse Swanson, Nurse Ramirez, and the elder Mrs. Feldman, I believe you have two problems that need to be addressed in order for this strike to end.”
“Two?” Dr. Harper asked, visibly distressed by the delegation in his office.
“First, Barbara Feldman needs to be reinstated. The situation that Dr. Howe presented to you is not an accurate representation of what occurred, and according to all parties who brought the matter to my attention, you already know that.”
“I—but—no—” Dr. Harper sputtered.
“Second,” Beverly continued, “you’ll need to address the overall climate of harassment that you have allowed to continue for far too long from the aforementioned Dr. Howe.
The nurses are unwilling to continue to work in such conditions, especially without a liaison like Mrs. Feldman who is comfortable bringing issues of harassment to your attention. ”
“I can’t run a hospital without doctors,” Dr. Harper said. “If we take every nurse’s word over every doctor’s, we’ll never have anyone willing to work here.”
“Can you run a hospital without nurses?” Beverly asked immediately. “Conditions seem a little ... thin ... today.”
“We can hire more nurses,” Dr. Harper said, but his voice was smaller than usual.
“You certainly could,” Beverly said. “But they won’t be from the Maryland Nurses Association, which likely means they won’t be certified. Is that legal, Mr. Friedman?”
Stuart shook his head. “Maryland is a mandatory union state for nurses.”
“And unfortunately for you, Dr. Harper, the MNA has pledged full support for the nurses at this hospital. So I am afraid you have a choice to make.”
He was silent for a long moment, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall behind us. “I can discipline Dr. Howe,” he said finally. “But I can’t reinstate Mrs. Feldman.”
“More the pity,” Beverly said. “I’m afraid that’s one of their conditions for returning to work.
We also have a patient willing to testify that Mrs. Feldman was the one who ensured she was given fair treatment.
I believe you know Mrs. Kline? And while, no, there is no current law on the books saying that Mrs. Feldman cannot be terminated for refusing the advances of a superior, I have firsthand knowledge that one is going to be introduced within the next year.
However, if you’d like to try your luck in the courts, I have a feeling this case would go all the way to the top.
” She turned to Stuart. “Mr. Friedman, which way do you think the Supreme Court would go on this one?”
“Hard to say,” he said. “But rulings of late have been trending more and more in favor of women.”
“Would it be Feldman v. Harper or Feldman v. Rock Creek Memorial ?” Beverly asked.
“Rock Creek Memorial,” Stuart said. “Unless the hospital board chooses not to back Dr. Harper.”
“Interesting,” Beverly said, then turned back to Dr. Harper. “So if you’d like the case guaranteeing women cannot be fired for refusing sexual advances named after either you or your hospital, please, stand by your decision.”
It was a struggle to keep my mouth closed, and it felt like an hour before anyone responded.
And when the silence was broken, at first none of us even heard what Dr. Harper said.
“Excuse me?” Beverly asked. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
“You win,” he said, louder, raising his eyes, which hung above dark circles I had never seen on him before.
I still hadn’t moved. But Beverly and Stuart stood, and Beverly extended her hand across the desk to Dr. Harper. “Thank you so much for your time today, Dr. Harper. I’ll inform the nurses that they can return to their duties. Barbara will return to work on Monday.”
“Tuesday,” someone said, and I was surprised to hear the word coming out of my own mouth. “I don’t work on Mondays.”
Beverly smiled at me. “Tuesday it is, then. Good day, Dr. Harper.”