Accidentally Yours (11 page)

“
But he looks so pale,” Mrs. Williams wailed.

“
He doesn’t look well, Doctor,” her husband added calmly, his arm draped around his wife’s shoulder.

“
He’s had a nasty fall. I know that big bandage on his forehead is frightening. He’s also not feeling very well because of the ulcer, but please try not to be upset. We’ll have him feeling better in a few days.”

“
Dr. Warner to curtain five.” The female voice paging Zack had a slight Caribbean accent.

“
I’m sorry to be abrupt, but I have to see one of my patients. I’ll be here until eleven p.m. Please feel free to call me with any questions you may have or for an update,” Zack offered.

The Williamses thanked him, and Vivian said,
“I guess it’s my turn to see Bernard.”

“
I think maybe you should let him get some rest,” Mrs. Williams said quickly. “The nurse asked us to leave after only a few minutes.”

“
They won’t let anyone stay more than a few minutes,” Zack said. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Williams. It’ll be all right.” He turned to Vivian. “Come on; you can get in with me.”

“
Please excuse me,” Vivian said to Bernard’s parents.

As she waited with Zack at the entrance to the patient area while he gestured to the man at the information desk to buzz them in, she overheard Mrs. Williams, making no effort to speak in a low voice, saying,
“It isn’t right to tire him out this way. She should just go home now.” How like this woman to not even attempt subtlety. Annoyed, she shook her head and sucked her teeth.

Vivian hadn’t intended to stay long; she just wanted to tell
Bernard she was there and that she hoped he felt better. He nodded, half asleep, and she told him she’d see him in a day or two.

As she left his
bedside, an announcement came over the PA. “Dr. Warner, telephone call.” Probably tonight’s date calling to find out what time he was picking her up, she thought.

When she got back to the waiting room she was relieved to see that Terry and Glenda had arrived. Thank God she wouldn
’t have to deal with Bernard’s parents alone. Terry was patting Mrs. Williams’s hand, who looked at Vivian so intently she wanted to ask if she had a booger in her nose or something.

“
How is he?” the older woman asked.

“
He looks better than he did right after he passed out.”

“
What was he doing when he fainted? Had the two of you been up all hours, or something?” Mrs. Williams persisted.

“
He was sitting in his living room. I believe I already told you that.” Vivian knew her words sounded curt, but she couldn’t help it. It was clear Bernard’s mother was trying to hold her responsible for Bernard’s illness, and she wasn’t about to stand here and be accused.

“
I think we should go now, Ceola,” Mr. Williams said. “There’s nothing else we can do. Bernie’s in good hands. We can call Dr. Warner in a little while to see what the specialist says.” He turned to Vivian. “We want to thank you for getting our boy to the hospital.”

“
You’re very welcome, Mr. Williams. I was glad I could help.” Mrs. Williams was conspicuously silent, she noticed.

Vivian turned to Terry when the senior Williamses had gone.
“Is that normal behavior for her?”

“
Yes, Terry replied, “but she’s harmless.”

“
I don’t know about all that,” Vivian drawled. “I can’t think of a person who has annoyed me more in such a short time. I’ll bet my blood pressure has shot up twenty points.”

*****

Zack picked up the receiver at the nurses’ station. “Dr. Warner here.”

It was the answering service of the building management company.
“We have an emergency, Dr. Warner.”

“
What happened?”

“
One of the tenants has been found dead in his apartment.”

“
Oh, no! Who was it? And what happened? It wasn’t a murder, was it?”

“
No. It was Mr. Ellis in 3-B. The super called the police after the tenants on the floor started complaining of an odor coming from his apartment. The coroner said there weren’t any outward signs of foul play, maybe a heart attack or something. He also said it looked like he’s been dead for several days.”

Zack took a moment to be grateful that no one would have grounds to sue him and Austin, as the building
’s owners, then said a brief prayer for Mr. Ellis. “He was an old man. He probably died of natural causes. I’ll be by tomorrow to survey the apartment for damages. Get John to air it out, will you?”

“
He’s doing it now. I didn’t stay too long; it smelled too bad. Mr. Ellis’s son in Ohio is being notified. I’ll expect to hear from him soon.”

“
All right. Thanks for letting me know. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He replaced the receiver, a thoughtful frown on his face. Mr. Ellis continued to live alone long after his declining health warranted supervision. The last time he
’d seen the old man his gray hair fell past his shoulders, and he wore a filthy coat. It wasn’t surprising that death had claimed him, but it was sad nevertheless. If Zack had his way, no one would die alone.

He wondered how Mr. Ellis
’s son would react to news of his father’s demise. He couldn’t imagine living so far away and, by all accounts never visiting, but of course not every father and son had the loving relationship he shared with his dad.

Zack
’s parents now lived in the Bronx. He wished he was in the financial position to buy a home for them. While he knew they were proud of him and they lived in relative comfort—they had declined a reduced-rent apartment in the building he and Austin owned—he wished he could have done more for them. He found it amusing that so many people seemed impressed when he told them his profession, but the fact was that ER medicine simply didn’t pay at the same scale as other specialties, like cardiology or surgery. He was still paying off his student loans. Sometimes women seemed downright disappointed to learn he drove an ordinary Ford Taurus instead of a Benz or a Jaguar. It was probably hard for some to believe, but he had gone into medicine because he truly liked the idea of aiding the sick and the injured, not because he expected to become wealthy. It hurt his heart to witness an incident like the one he’d seen earlier, where economic fear of a plastic surgeon meant a real cutie-pie would be marked for life.

It had been a stressful day, and now there was the matter of a vacant apartment
. He knew it would rent quickly, but there would be a delay in getting Mr. Ellis’s belongings out. Something told Zack the man’s son wasn’t going to be much help. At least his rent was paid up through the end of the month, and ideally he’d like to have the apartment rented by the time the one-month security deposit expired at the end of the following month.

After the unit was empty it had to be painted,
the parquet floors waxed, and a general clean-up done. He hoped the damages weren’t significant; Mr. Ellis’s unkempt appearance wasn’t one of someone concerned with keeping an orderly apartment. He chuckled. With all this on his mind he might not even have a chance to think about the lovely Vivian St. James, who kept coming into his life courtesy of the jokers she was dating. In his opinion, they were either clumsy or just plain unlucky. The funny thing that whenever he finally stopped thinking about her after one of their encounters she’d show up again, looking even better than he remembered. She’d seemed so caring about little Kelly Mosely, and, at that moment he knew he was going to have to put himself in the running for Vivian’s affections. He didn’t have the slightest idea of where to find her, and to rely on the pattern of her male acquaintances suffering mishaps or becoming ill was foolhardy, but he was sure he would run into her again before too long. When it came to black, single professionals, the New York metropolitan area really wasn’t all that big. He saw at least a few familiar faces at just about every event he attended, and with Vivian attending NBP events, the odds were even higher.

He was practically whistling when he sought out Bernard
’s parents and Vivian with an update. He didn’t see the senior Williamses, but Vivian’s friend Glenda had arrived. There was a man with them as well. He looked familiar….

“
Hi. Are Bernard’s parents still here?” he asked Vivian when he got closer to them.

“
They left. I told them I would call with Bernard’s room number once he’s admitted.”

“
I see. Hello, Glenda.”

“
Hiya, Doc. Oh, this is Terry Terrell. Terry, Dr. Zack Warner.”

The men shook hands, and Zack realized Glenda
’s companion was the dude who had been with Bernard at the Valentine’s dance. Apparently the two friends had become a pleasant foursome. That certainly was cozy, just like the Kramdens and the Nortons.

“
We’re going to be admitting Bernard to the ICU, but probably just until his results are back. There can be dozens of reasons for syncope.”

“
What’s syncope?” Glenda asked. “It sounds like a musical beat.”

Zack smiled.
“It’s when a person blacks out.”

Vivian couldn
’t remember the last time she had been so happy to see the building where she lived. For reasons she had never understood, on-street parking had always been relatively simple here, unlike other Westchester locations. Most of the buildings on her street were small apartment houses; others were duplexes, with a few private homes, most of which had no garages or driveways.

The two
young brothers from upstairs, Miles and Mason, were playing outside and ran to her as she approached. She could see excitement in their faces. What was going on?

“
Oh, Miss Vivian! Did you hear?”

“
Did I hear what?”

Miles spoke first
…or maybe it was Mason, the younger of the two by less than a year. They were practically the same size, and Vivian usually found it difficult to differentiate between the two. “They found Mr. Ellis dead in his apartment this afternoon.”

“
Dead! How did it happen, does anyone know?”

“
It was real exciting!” Mason said. “The cops were here, and the people who take away dead bodies.”

“
It’s called the coroner, silly.” Eleven-year-old Miles had obviously been listening to adults in the neighborhood talk.

“
Yes, that’s right,” Vivian agreed. “But does anyone know how he died?”

“
They don’t think anybody killed him or anything,” Miles said. “They think he just sat down and died.”

“
He was real old,” Mason added. “And my mother said he never took a bath.”

“
Yes, well, sometimes things like that happen to people who are very old. Thank you, boys, for telling me. I’ve been gone all day. I think I’ll stop in at Santos’s and see what he knows.” Santos—she didn’t know his first name and doubted anyone else did either other than his wife and daughter—was the building’s resident superintendent.

Once inside the building, she hesitated. Mr. and Mrs. Paul Hughes, Austin
’s parents, lived on the ground floor, next door to the Santos family. She wondered if she should ask Mrs. Hughes, who usually knew everything that went on in the building, but she decided that the super would be the most knowledgeable of anyone. Mr. Ellis lived directly upstairs from her, and she was less than enthused about there having been a dead body so close. She wondered how long he had been dead before anyone discovered him, since he lived alone and never seemed to have any visitors.

She knocked on the door, using the metal knocker.
It was answered almost immediately by the Santos’s pretty teenage daughter, whom Vivian noted with a twinge of envy was about a size five. The girl had a cordless phone to her ear, which she lowered to her side.

“
Hi! I just got home and heard about what happened. Is your dad here?”

“
Yes, just a minute, please.” The girl turned and called out, “Daddy! There’s somebody here to see you.”

The girl resumed her conversation and stood there until her father appeared, then promp
tly disappeared.

Santos was a small, wiry man of about fifty with olive skin and curly gray hair. He nodded knowingly upon seeing her.
“I knocked on your door this afternoon. I guess you weren’t home. I wanted to let you know about Mr. Ellis. Mrs. Harris complained of a bad odor coming from his apartment.”

Vivian
’s upper lip curled in distaste. Apparently Mr. Ellis had been dead for days. Why did people use words like “bad,” “unpleasant,” or “foul-smelling” to describe an odor, she wondered. The very word itself suggested something offensive to the nostrils. Seriously, whoever heard of a ‘good’ odor?

“
I’ve got it airing out up there. It’s not bad, believe me. Lucky for us, Mrs. Harris has a sensitive nose…or else the situation could have gotten really ugly.”