Stubborn Heart (27 page)

“Pull the curtain?” Mark wrinkled his face in confusion.

“Yeah.” Trevor nodded, still grinning impishly. “You can give me a bed bath.”

Mark rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I can assure you that the most you’re getting tonight is a PG-rated back rub.”

Trevor pouted. “What’s the point in having a nurse for a boyfriend if I can’t even get a good X-rated bath?”

“And have every nurse in the unit come running in here when your heart rate goes up?” Mark scoffed. “Yeah. That’s not going to happen.”

Chapter 27

T
HE
night sky was pitch black as Mark and Trevor hurried back toward their car. The wind was howling, and the bitter cold cut right through their clothing. Suddenly a man leaped from behind a tree and blocked their passage. He waved a huge gun at them menacingly.

“Give me your wallets right now,” the man yelled.

Mark looked at the man and saw that he had no eyes and no mouth. His face was just a black shape, an outline with no features.
How is he talking if he has no mouth?
Mark thought as he looked over at Trevor in confusion. Trevor opened his mouth to say something, but never had the chance. The assailant aimed the pistol at him and fired. The bullet struck Trevor in the center of his chest, propelling him back onto the sidewalk. Mark ran over and dropped to his knees beside him. Trevor’s gray, lifeless eyes stared up at him.

Screaming, Mark bolted upright in the bed. He was covered in sweat and gasping for breath. His stomach roiled, and he barely made it to the bathroom before he expelled all its contents. He sat on the floor, leaning his head against the tub basin. The cold porcelain helped him to focus as he struggled to regain control of his breathing. Tears streamed down his face as the nightmare started to fade.

T
HE
ringing of his desk phone brought Mark out of his thoughts. Unable to go back to sleep, he had showered, dressed, and come in to work early. He had stopped by the unit to check on Trevor, but had only peeked through the window, not wanting to wake him. Trevor had slept most of the night and was doing well. Mark had left instructions that he be notified as soon as the surgical team started seeing patients. Mark answered the phone. The caller was Rosemary, the nurse caring for Trevor. Mark thanked her and hung up the phone.

The team was already in Trevor’s room as Mark made his way around the corridor. Pete waved from the bedside. He and Trevor were laughing and talking. As Mark walked into the room, Pete was raising the head of the bed.

“Just in time,” Pete said as the electric bed hummed and raised Trevor into a modified sitting position.

He pulled the gown off Trevor’s shoulder, exposing the bandage underneath. Mark hissed as Pete began pulling at the tape securing the bandage.

“Do I need to have you wait outside while I change this?” Pete asked jokingly.

Mark blushed and exhaled. “No.”

Pete removed the bandage, revealing a crescent shaped wound about the size of a quarter. Several small stitches kept the wound edges closed.

“It’s much smaller that I had imagined,” Mark commented as he appraised the incision.

“Hey, I do good work,” Pete countered, feigning indignation.

“Yes. You do,” Mark agreed, clapping him on the back a few times.

Mark watched as Pete removed the dressing from Trevor’s back. This site was larger than the one on the front, but it too remained clean and dry. Both wounds were cleaned and new bandages applied.

“I’m moving you out to a regular room today,” Pete said to Trevor. He turned to Mark and held up a hand as if in anticipation of protests. “And you know I wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t 100 percent sure he’s ready.”

Mark nodded his agreement, and Pete walked out to the desk to enter orders in the computer.

A few minutes later, there was a light rap on the door. Trevor’s nurse came in, carrying a breakfast tray.

“Here, let me take that off your hands,” Mark offered, taking the tray from her. He placed the tray on the bedside table and pulled the covering off the plate. It looked and smelled great. Scrambled eggs, ham, grits, and toast, served with coffee and juice. Mark unwrapped the utensils and spread the napkin across Trevor’s lap.

“You do know that I’m perfectly capable of doing that myself,” Trevor fussed as Mark buttered a piece of toast and handed it to him. He smiled, though, savoring the extra attention he was getting from his special nurse. Watching Mark’s nimble hands work, Trevor marveled at how loving and intimate the simple act of spreading butter on a piece of toast could be.

Chapter 28

“Y
OU
can go in now.” The secretary pointed toward the door. Wednesday morning, at ten o’clock, Mark was sitting outside the Senior Vice President of Patient Care’s office. He stood up and straightened his clothing before walking toward the door. Mark was always a little nervous when he had the go to the “front office.” Lorraine Henderson had been the head of nursing services for a couple of decades. Prior to her current position, she had been a staff nurse in the emergency room. She had probably been on duty the day that Mark was born. No one could remember a time when she was not a permanent fixture at Atlanta General. He knocked lightly on the door and entered when she called for him.

“Good morning, Mark,” Ms. Henderson said without looking up from a document in her hands. “Please have a seat.”

“Thank you,” Mark replied, sitting in one of the two chairs situated in front of the desk opposite Ms. Henderson. He waited for her to finish what she was doing.

“How can I help you?” she asked, still not looking up.

“I have a friend who’s getting out of the hospital soon, and I need to arrange to use some of my vacation time so I can help take care of him,” Mark answered.

“How’s your head?” Ms. Henderson asked, finally looking up at Mark.

“What?” Mark asked, confused. Then he realized what she was talking about. He reached up to touch the small bandage above his eye. “It’s healing pretty well.”

“Doesn’t look like it to me. In fact, I think you came back to work too soon and had a relapse.” She shook her head, frowning.

“I don’t understand,” Mark said, even more confused. Subconsciously, he touched the bandage again.

Ms. Henderson slipped the glasses off her nose and set them on the desk. She looked up at Mark. “Do you really think I don’t know what goes on in my own hospital?”

“I guess I’m not following you,” Mark replied. His face flushed pink.

“I don’t expect to see you in this building in any capacity, other than as a visitor, until after Dr. Hayes is able to care for himself independently,” Ms. Henderson answered.

Mark took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Ms. Henderson said with a wave of her hand. “If I could legally do it, I would place you on family leave. Since I can’t, you’re on sick leave. Save your vacation time for other things.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Mark admitted, still shocked by her generosity.

“Say good-bye,” she prompted. “You’re officially off duty as of noon.”

T
HURSDAY
morning, the surgical team made rounds, and Trevor was pronounced ready to go home. After gathering up Trevor’s belonging, Mark helped Trevor get dressed, then ran down the stairs to get his car. Mark pulled his car into the circular drive at the front entrance to the hospital. He waited as an attendant rolled the wheelchair near the car. Mark jumped out and ran around the car to help Trevor. The attendant engaged the brake on the wheelchair, and then allowed Trevor to stand and get into the car. They thanked the attendant, and Mark slowly pulled away from the curb. He turned out of the driveway and merged into traffic.

“Jeb Taylor came by to see me this morning,” Trevor started as soon as they were in motion.

“I’m sure he wanted to know when you’ll be back at work,” Mark quipped. “Poor thing actually has to do some work while you are out.”

“Actually, he came by to talk to me about the position at the university,” Trevor replied.

“Couldn’t he at least wait until you were out of the hospital?” Mark asked a little sharply. “I know Dr. Taylor’s the program director and he’s anxious to fill his vacant faculty position. But seriously, hounding you while you’re still in the hospital?”

“He brought me some information to read while I’m at home.” Trevor turned to look at Mark, surprised by the tone in his voice.

“Still,” Mark cut him off. “That could have waited.”

“I called him,” Trevor corrected.

“I don’t want to talk about this while I’m driving,” Mark said flatly, ending the conversation.

Trevor turned and looked out the window as Mark drove. Neither one said anything for the remainder of the drive to Mark’s building. Mark parked the car and carried Trevor’s things up to the condo. Trevor followed behind in silence. Once they were inside, Mark carried Trevor’s bag into the bedroom. He returned and found Trevor standing over by the sliding glass door. His face was tight and drawn.

“Do you need to lie down for a little while?” Mark asked softly, touching the small of Trevor’s back. Trevor flinched and Mark let his hand drop to his side.

“I need to know what happened back there.” Trevor turned to face Mark. Hurt and anger reflected in his eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Mark asked.

Trevor shrugged. “I told you that Jeb had come by to see me and you practically snapped my head off.”

Mark sighed and his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it come across that way. But it did piss me off that he was pestering you while you were still in the hospital.”

“I told you, I called him. All he did was bring me some reading material and a few websites to look at. I don’t see how there could be any harm in that.” Trevor voice was guarded.

“That’s fine.” Mark exhaled. “All I’m asking for is a little time for you to get better. Then we can start dealing with all this other stuff.”

“We have to talk about it sometime,” Trevor protested.

“Okay, Trevor.” Mark sighed. “If you want, we can talk about it now.”

Mark took Trevor’s hand and led him to the sofa. Trevor allowed himself to be led and sat down. After Trevor was seated, Mark sat with one leg under him so that he faced Trevor. He kept Trevor’s hand in his.

“I looked at all three options and thought about what each one could offer you,” Mark started, rubbing Trevor’s hand as he spoke.

“How were you able to do that?” Trevor asked, looking over at Mark. Mark was too calm. Trevor couldn’t get a read on Mark’s emotions and wasn’t sure where this conversation was going. He only knew that it scared him.

“The university is the worst choice of the three,” Mark continued, ignoring Trevor’s question. “You’re probably already a better surgeon than Jeb Taylor. The position at the university has very little to offer you. It would quickly turn into a boring, dead-end job.”

“Maybe I can change that,” Trevor countered.

“No, you can’t,” Mark said dismissively. “And you know that. You only want this job because you think it will keep you here with me. If not for me, you wouldn’t even think twice about taking the job here.”

Trevor started to protest, but Mark cut him off. “You need to take the position in Boston. It’s the best paying and has the most growth potential. More importantly, you’ll get to perform surgery, not watch over others as they do it. Denying yourself what you were meant to be is just a waste. I will not have you settling for a job just because you think it will make me happy.”

“Are you trying to break up with me?” Trevor’s voice broke as he asked the question, afraid of what Mark would say.

“What? No!” Mark exclaimed, his eyes round with surprise. He leaned back against the sofa and pulled Trevor’s hand up to his lips. “That’s the last thing I want. I almost lost you twice within the span of one day. And I realized how stupidly stubborn I’ve been. You shouldn’t have to choose between a career and me.”

“But Atlanta is your home.”

“No.” Mark shook his head. “I have a place to live here, and I have a job that I go to every day. That doesn’t make this my home.”