16. Heart In A Vice
Chapter sixteen
Heart In A Vice
Stanley
Two days later…
“Ah, Miss Bailey!”
“Excuse me...?” Maria slows to a stop in the hallway, looking very confused. “Do I know you?”
Oh, right. She doesn’t know that Drake and I know each other. How do I tell her without letting her in on the fact that we gossip about her behind her back? How do I say that Ed has spoken about her and the way she is with Alexander?
“Uh, a fellow doctor here, Drake Strickland, is a friend of mine. He was hit hard by the passing of your boyfriend, so he might have shared a few details about meeting you.”
“What did he tell you, exactly?” She recoils even further and her face flushes pink.
Ooo, there’s something there, isn’t there?
“Nothing more. Uh, can I help you? You look a little lost.”
“I was supposed to be meeting with Chelsea Fisher today. She brought her twins in for a follow-up appointment. But I’ve been stumbling around this place for the last half hour trying to get there.”
I chuckle lightly under my breath. I don’t blame her: all the hallways in this place look exactly the same. I don’t know if that’s by design or if someone wants to play a cruel prank on the rest of society.
“That would be family medicine, not the maternity ward. The other direction. I can take you there if you’re afraid of getting lost again.”
“If you’re not busy.”
“Not at all. My patients aren’t exactly going anywhere.”
She gives me a look that’s both curious and confused.
“I work in the senior ward, providing long-term care to those who have chronic conditions.”
“Oh! I guess I hadn’t thought about that aspect of medical care.”
“You’re not the first. Most people don’t until it’s happening to them. Then they get upset why more people aren’t investing their time and money into funding new and better equipment for us.”
“You’re... really passionate about this.”
“Someone has to be.” I can already feel the heat rising in my face.
“Usually when someone talks about becoming a doctor, most people say surgeon or pediatrician. But senior care... What drew you to it?”
Her question stuns me for a second, so much so that I almost forget where we’re supposed to be going. I’ve never had someone stop and ask me questions about my chosen field. I’m usually met with confusion and comments about me wasting my time with the elderly.
“My mother... when I was in my first year of residency, she ended up in a nursing home because she was unable to take care of herself.” I avoid sharing the part where my father was the one responsible for her condition.
“Every penny I earned went into her care and my student loan went on the back burner for the time being. It would always be there; my mother wouldn’t.
Anyway, it was almost a year after she’d been there that I dropped in for an unannounced visit and found her in a wheelchair, in the garden, medicated out of her mind.
They also hadn’t bathed her in a few days.
That was the moment I questioned why I was paying them all this money if this was how they were going to treat her.
Ever since then, I switched fields so that no one has to go through that kind of treatment ever again. ”
I heave a sigh of relief. I don’t think I’ve shared that story with most people. Ed and Drake already knew, with us having worked together over the years and meeting outside of work. But Maria’s the first person I’ve barely known that I’ve told.
Probably because she cared enough to ask in the first place.
“That’s very admirable of you. And I’m not saying that to be cheesy. I really mean it. What’s the point of your work if you’re not helping the ones who are most vulnerable?”
“Exactly! You get it! I wish more people did. Like the Medical Board. I’ve been trying for years to get more funding for my wing so that we can make things a little more comfortable for them, but all of my proposals keep getting rejected.”
“Ouch. I can see how that would be frustrating. But don’t let that get you down. Your work isn’t being taken for granted. I’m sure all of your patients are happy with the attention and care that you give them.”
The middle of my chest starts to grow warm and my throat tightens. For work that’s mostly thankless, it’s nice to hear someone say otherwise for a change.
“Th-thank you. That means a lot to me to hear you say that.”
“Have you tried setting up one of those online donation accounts? Like a GoFundMe?”
“My friends suggested that, I just haven’t gotten around to it. I’m no good writing up that sort of stuff to attract the right attention.”
“It doesn’t cost much to hire a copywriter to do that sort of thing for you, if you’re really that pressed about doing it yourself.”
“A copywriter, huh? I’ll have to look into that. Thank you... How do you know about this kind of stuff?”
“Oh, my former employers, the Bowmans, the wife was a copywriter while she was pregnant with Grace. Sometimes, she’d ask me to proofread her stuff when she felt exhausted or sore from the hormones and water weight.”
She’s really connected, isn’t she? It’s a wonder she hasn’t put more of those to good use to improve her situation.
Of course, who am I to judge? If she chooses to work as a live-in nanny for Ed, then so be it. Not everyone has a goal centered around making a lot of money. Some people just want to make others happy and feel cared for.
I’m starting to understand why Drake fell for her so quickly.
“Have you thought about going into copywriting yourself? On the side, I mean.”
“I guess I could, if I ever got the inkling to give it a try.”
“I say go for it. What’s the worst that can happen? Ah, here we are.” I gesture to the brown and white sign on the wall, indicating that we’re finally in the wing of Family Medicine.
“I get fired?”
“And? Then you at least know if you’re good at it or not. And if you discover you enjoy doing it, that’s the motivation to improve. There’s nothing to be lost from failing unless you give up from the start.”
“Huh... You know, for someone who works with seniors, you radiate a lot of positivity and hope.”
She doesn’t know half of it. She doesn’t see the nights I stay up with a scotch and tonic after losing a patient, wondering why they had to die alone.
“Someone has to. I know it sounds cliche, but just the act of smiling releases neuropeptides that make you feel less stressed. If I can make my patients feel less negative about their circumstances, then that’s still a step in a better direction.”
“I’m sure it helps them feel less alone too.”
“Yeah. It does. My staff and I get to be the family and support they need while they’re here.”
“But without the arguing, I hope.”
I bark a laugh that echoes down the hallway. A few heads turn to suss out the source of the disturbance.
“You’d be surprised. Some of my patients have been quite feisty. One of them even bit my wrist once.”
“Oh dear!”
“Thankfully, they were wearing dentures, so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.” I clear my throat and glance at my watch. “Right. Well. Don’t let me keep you from your friend. It was nice having this chat.”
“Thanks for helping me find my way. What did you say your name was?”
I didn’t.
“Stanley Baker. I’d say you know where to find me, but...” I gesture to the hallway around us. Maria snickers into her hand, her nose wrinkling and her eyes lighting up with mirth.
Oh no.
“Oh! Edward has talked about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.” She offers her hand. It’s small and warm against mine.
Huh. So Ed has spoken about me? I wonder what he’s said, exactly. Asking would be rude though. It’s not really any of my business.
As well as whether she and Drake are a thing now. He hasn’t brought her up since but he could be keeping it a secret.
Surely, she would have mentioned it too, right?
I bid her goodbye and head back to my department, mulling over the details of our encounter for any clues that would give me the answers I’m looking for.
And completely ignoring the fact that my heart is pounding against my ribs at the thought of her taking the time out of her day to ask me about my work.
Dammit.