The Doctor's Undoing (3 page)

The other two men exchanged an amused glance, and Ron figured they were thinking of Kris's dimples or muscles or some of the other superficial attributes that had probably attracted Haley to the guy. Feeling his good mood begin to disintegrate, he quickly changed the subject, sharing a funny story from the wards. He was both pleased and relieved when his friends laughed and contributed a couple of amusing stories from their own experiences during the past couple of weeks, all being careful to follow privacy rules and not mention names or specifics about their patients.

Medical anecdotes he could handle. Talking about Haley and her good-looking ex-boyfriend—not so much.

 

“I'm glad you're feeling better today, Ms. McMillan.” Haley smiled at the former Air Force nurse who sat in a recliner in a private room, snugly wrapped in a hospital blanket. She was still on supplemental oxygen as well as the antibiotics dripping into the IV tubing connected to her left arm, but her condition had improved considerably during the night. “It's good that you feel well enough to sit up for a while.”

“Feels good to get out of that bed,” Georgia McMillan agreed with a firm nod of her gray head, followed by a rattling cough. Catching her breath, she eyed Haley narrowly. “Don't smoke, do you?”

“No, ma'am.”

“Good. Don't start.” She coughed more forcefully while Haley studied her chart.

“I won't. Are you okay?”

Catching her breath, the patient waved off Haley's question with one thin hand. “I'm as okay as I ever am these days. Feel a whole lot better than I did when I was admitted, anyway.”

“That's good to hear.” Haley jotted a couple of notes on the back of Ms. McMillan's H & P, then folded the paper and stuck it into her coat pocket.

“You look like you got some rest last night.”

A little surprised by the comment, Haley glanced up from the patient chart. “Yes, I slept very well, thank you.”

“I remember my medical training. Ain't easy, is it?”

Chuckling, she pulled her stethoscope from another pocket. “No, ma'am, it isn't.”

“Just hope you never have to practice in a tent with shells exploding around you.”

“I can't imagine working under those conditions.”

Georgia enjoyed talking about her experiences in a war zone and Haley usually liked listening to the stories.
Unfortunately, she was running a little behind this morning because of complications with one of her other two patients, and she was beginning to worry she wouldn't have her notes completed in time for rounds. She mentally crossed her fingers that Dr. Cudahy wouldn't choose today to show up early.

She was just preparing to leave the room when Georgia startled her yet again. “Has that boy asked you out yet?”

Haley paused in midstep toward the door. “Which boy is that, Ms. McMillan?”

“That cute blondish student with the sexy smile. The one who's always grinning at you.”

Haley laughed self-consciously. “You mean Ron? He's a friend. A classmate. We aren't—”

“You might not be, but he is,” Georgia cut in with a wicked smile that showed a hint of the saucy young woman she'd once been.

Smiling wryly, Haley shook her head. “You don't see the way he acts when we're not on rounds. He goes to great lengths to tease and torment me.”

Her patient nodded as if Haley had just confirmed her theory. “Men are still just big boys at heart. That's his way of letting you know he's got a crush on you.”

“Oh, I don't think so.”

“I watch him while you're giving your presentations on rounds. He can't take his eyes from you.”

Haley was growing accustomed to odd and sometimes inappropriate comments from her patients, but for some reason, this conversation flustered her. “He's just paying attention, Ms. McMillan. That's the whole point of our rounds, so we'll learn about the various conditions of the patients we're seeing.”

“Hmm. The other student pays attention, too, but not the same way that boy does. You mark my words, he's got it bad for you. Don't you be surprised when he makes his move. And if I were you, I'd take him up on it. Nice-looking young
doctor with a sense of humor and kind eyes—a girl could do a whole lot worse, let me tell you. As someone who's been married three times, I know a bit about winners and losers,” she added with a phlegmy cackle.

“Well, I, um—” Haley gave her patient a strained smile. “I've got to run, Ms. McMillan. I'll see you again in a little while during rounds.”

The woman nodded, looking tired when her impish smile faded. “Send my nurse in here, will you? Think I'm ready to get back in that bed, after all.”

“I will.”

Haley made her escape, letting out a whoosh of breath when the door closed behind her. She had to find a nurse, locate an available computer, type her notes and be ready for rounds in just under twenty minutes.

She had a feeling she would have to make a massive effort not to be distracted by Georgia McMillan's outrageous comments while she tried to concentrate on her work. The woman had to be mistaken that she'd seen anything meaningful in the way Ron looked at her. Probably just entertaining herself with some romantic imagining. Because it couldn't possibly be true that Ron had feelings for her—could it?

Swallowing hard, Haley pushed that unsettling question to the back of her mind and hurried to find Ms. McMillan's nurse.

L
ate Thursday afternoon, after a long day of morning rounds and an afternoon spent being a resident's minion, Haley gathered her things in preparation for heading home. She didn't have to report in that weekend, and she planned to spend the next two days doing laundry, catching up on housework and preparing for next week's lectures. That would be her last week on wards; after that, she would move to internal medicine outpatient clinic for four weeks before beginning her pediatrics rotation.

But before starting pediatrics, she had to pass the internal medicine board exam, or the “shelf exam,” she reminded herself. Which meant more cramming. She was aware that she would spend the rest of her professional life continuing her education and being tested on her knowledge, but that was okay. It was part of the career she'd chosen, and she knew how important it was for a physician to stay current on the newest
procedures and treatments. At least she'd be earning a living, rather than going further into debt, once she completed her fourth year of medical school.

Ron fell into step beside her when she headed for the elevator. Her medical student white coat was still spotless and crisp, even after a hard day's work. The roomy pockets were full, but neatly organized. Ron's coat was rather wrinkled, his pockets crammed with instruments, notes and medical reference materials. The coat had looked exactly the same way when he'd arrived that morning. Beneath it, his blue dress shirt was correspondingly crumpled, his red-print tie slightly askew and his khaki slacks creased at the knees. Though he was clean shaven, his disheveled sandy hair fell boyishly over his forehead, making him look a bit younger than his twenty-seven years.

The rumpled look certainly worked for him. For some reason, rather than unprofessional or scruffy, he looked appealing and earnest, like a man who had more on his mind than vanity. She was well aware of the way other women smiled at him when he passed them in the hallways. Ron might not be as movie-star handsome as their friend James, but Ron had a sexy charm of his own that he didn't hesitate to fall back on when necessary.

Not that she was at all susceptible to that charm, she assured herself. She knew him too well to step into that snare.

“Long day, huh?” he asked as he reached around her to press the elevator call button. His arm brushed hers with the movement, and she stepped a bit too quickly away, earning a quizzical look from him.

“Yes,” she said, shifting her purse strap higher on her shoulder, vaguely hoping he'd think her retreat had been due to a slipping bag. Glancing around to make sure no one could overhear, she added, “Paulsen was in a mood this morning, wasn't he?”

“No kidding. Thought he was going to chew a piece off poor Hardik's hide.”

“I'm glad I got Dr. Carr for my resident. I work very well with him.”

“Yeah. I get along fine with Dr. Prickett. Just Hardik's bad luck that he got Paulsen.”

Everyone knew there were some residents and attendings who enjoyed their power a little too much, especially when it came to abusing med students, nurses and lowly interns. Paulsen was one of the difficult ones. The power hierarchy in a teaching hospital was rigidly layered, often repressing and politically complicated, and it wasn't hard to get on a superior's bad side. Haley was relieved that she'd drawn a more patient, if perpetually harried, resident for her first rotation.

The elevator doors opened to an empty car, and they stepped in. Haley leaned against the far wall from Ron, appreciating the support. She really was tired. Her empty stomach reminded her that she'd been able to take only a few minutes for a quick lunch earlier, and she hoped she had something in her kitchen to eat that wouldn't require much preparation.

“Want to go have some coffee?” Ron asked during their descent to the lobby. “I could use some caffeine before I start prepping for tomorrow's didactic.”

“Um…coffee?”

“Yeah. James is meeting me at the usual place in a few minutes. I thought you might like to join us.”

“Oh. You and James.”

Ron frowned at her. “Is something wrong, Haley? You're acting kind of odd today.”

Drawing herself straighter, she shook her head. “No, I'm fine. Just kind of brain-dead after a draining day.”

And then, to further convince him that nothing at all had changed between them…and why should it have?…she said brightly, “I'd love to have coffee with you and James. I'll meet you there.”

He still looked at her as though something puzzled him, but she kept her smile in place as she headed for her car. Only when she was buckled into the driver's seat did she allow it to fade. What was she doing, letting a random comment from a fanciful patient interfere with her friendship with her study pal? She and Ron had had their share of conflict, but romantic yearnings had never been an issue. Their problems were due entirely to conflicting personality traits, all the more reason to put Georgia's mistaken observations and unsolicited advice out of her mind.

She must be more tired than she had realized. She could use a cup of coffee and a few laughs with her friends.

Because Haley was delayed by a red light, Ron was the first to reach the coffee shop. He was already placing his order when she got in line, and had secured a small table when she joined him with her skinny vanilla latte. “Looks like we beat James here,” she commented, slipping into a plastic chair.

“Looks like.”

Ron took a cautious sip of his own hot drink. “I was tempted by those muffins, but I figured I'd better eat some real food first,” he said after swallowing. “Had a sandwich and some chips for lunch, but they're long since worn off.”

“I got half a salad down before I had to run help my resident with something,” she admitted. “I'm starving.”

“Want to go next door for Chinese after we finish these? We'll see if James wants to join us.”

The fast-food Chinese place next door was good, quick and relatively inexpensive, all points in its favor. Haley nodded. “Sure. I've got time for some noodles before I hit the books.”

“Great. I'm not in the mood to cook for myself tonight.”

“Neither am I.” She sipped her coffee, trying to decide whether she should repeat her conversation with Georgia to him. Ron would probably get a kick out of the older woman's misguided matchmaking efforts. He loved to share amusing
stories. But for some reason, she kept the patient's observations to herself. Maybe they hadn't been all that funny, after all. Just…mistaken.

They chatted about their workday for a few minutes more before being interrupted by the chirp of Ron's phone. He slipped it from its belt holder and glanced at the screen. “Text from James. He's not going to be joining us, after all.”

“Oh? Nothing's wrong, I hope.”

“No. Just having trouble with his car again.”

James's classic sports car was notorious for mechanical problems, about which the study group had teased him often.

Ron shook his head as he returned the phone to its holder after sending an acknowledgment of the message. “Don't know why he doesn't give up on that car and buy a new one.”

“He loves that old car.” The car seemed to be the only inanimate object James did truly value. He'd even given it a name. Terri. If there was any personal significance to the name, he'd never said.

“Way more trouble than it's worth. I'd have dumped it a long time ago.”

But then, that was Ron's stated philosophy, Haley mused, gazing into her coffee cup. If something didn't work out, or was more trouble than he deemed worthwhile, he walked away without looking back. He'd even proclaimed that he was prepared to do the same with medical school. If his grades had slipped or he'd failed one of the critical tests, he'd have taken it as a sign to move on, he'd insisted.

Haley had made no effort to hide her disapproval of that attitude. She was of the “Try, try again” credo herself. Ron had teased her during their first year of studying together that “Never give up. Never surrender!” should be her motto. The allusion had sailed over her head until he'd hosted the study group one blessedly study-free Saturday afternoon for pizza
and a showing of a sci-fi spoof movie that was one of his favorite films. He'd performed a bowing, fist-against-the-heart salute every time he'd seen her for several months afterward, until she'd finally threatened to dropkick his computer if he kept it up. Although he hadn't believed her—entirely—he'd finally grown tired of the joke and moved on to another one.

He drained his coffee. “Ready for noodles?”

She'd already agreed to eat with him. It would be a little too obvious to cancel just because James wasn't coming along, after all. Besides, why shouldn't she share a quick meal with Ron? She could only blame Georgia McMillan and her silly imaginings for making her suddenly self-conscious around her friend.

Telling herself this foolishness would all be forgotten by tomorrow, she pushed her empty coffee cup aside and reached for her purse.

 

Ron couldn't quite figure out what it was, but something was off with Haley. She seemed to be lost somewhere in her own thoughts, though she made an effort to participate in their conversation. He couldn't read the expression in her eyes, and her smiles looked a little distant. She didn't seem annoyed with him—a common enough occurrence that he knew how to recognize those signs—but neither was she fully connecting with him this evening.

Setting down his chopsticks, he studied her from across the little table in the crowded Chinese restaurant. “What's going on, Haley?”

She frowned. “I don't know what you mean.”

“You're acting weird. Have been ever since we left work today. Have I done something to tick you off again?”

She twisted noodles on her own disposable chopsticks, and he wondered if she was deliberately avoiding his gaze. “Have I ever not let you know when you've ticked me off?” she asked wryly.

“Well, no. But I think I know you well enough to tell when something is bothering you. Did something happen at work today?”

“Not…exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

She sighed a little and looked up from her bowl. “One of my patients said something that caught me a little off guard, but it's no big deal, okay? It was just an observation she made that I think was inaccurate.”

Conscious of the patient privacy laws that had been drilled into them, he glanced around to make sure no one could hear them before leaning a little closer to respond. “The only ‘she' you have is the one who always winks at me when we come into her room on rounds. What did she say?”

Haley shook her head. “You know we're not supposed to discuss our patients outside the hospital.”

“Not if it's a privacy issue,” he agreed. “Is that what it was? Is there something your resident should know, and you're wondering how to tell him?”

She shook her head again. “It's nothing like that. She was just teasing me. Let it go, Ron, okay?”

“Fine.” He wondered if she would have been so reticent with Anne. Or even James or Connor. But then he told himself to stop taking it so personally that she was holding something back from him. It wasn't as if they told each other everything.

He'd become increasingly aware lately that there were a lot of things he didn't understand about Haley. One would think after knowing her for two years, he'd have learned all there was to discover. And yet, it felt sometimes as if he'd barely scratched the surface of Haley Wright.

She gave another little shake of her head, as if clearing her mind of whatever had been bothering her, and quickly
changed the subject. “I met with the rest of the class officers this morning for another planning session for the big tailgate party in September. I think it's going to be a lot of fun.”

Haley was the class vice president, and an active member of several committees. The whole class had been together every day during the first two years of classes and lectures; now that rotations had started, they would rarely all be in one place again. Haley was committed to making sure the class stayed connected as much as possible during these final two years of medical school. If it were up to her, they'd probably have monthly pep rallies designed to keep up morale and increase classmate bonding, he thought with a smothered grin.

“You are planning to go, aren't you?” she asked when he didn't immediately respond.

He shrugged. “Probably. I figure you'll come after me if I don't show up.”

She smiled. “You could be right.”

She had a pretty smile. It was one of the first things he'd noticed about her when they'd met. She'd sat beside him in their first class and their hands had collided when they'd both reached to plug in their computers to the same outlet. She'd smiled, and his heart had given a funny thump. He still remembered their first conversation.

“Aren't you excited?” she had asked.

“I guess.”

“And a little nervous?”

He'd had no intention of letting her see that he was scared spitless. He had shrugged and drawled, “Nah. I figure if I bomb at doctoring, I can always become a mortician.”

Haley had blinked a couple of times, then smiled again. “We aren't going to bomb. Not if we give it all we've got. Maybe we can work together sometime. We'll find a few others who want to form a study group.”

He had realized immediately that he was sitting next to a cheerleader. It had been no surprise to learn in coming
months that she had, indeed, been a cheerleader throughout school—not to mention senior class president, “Most Likely to Succeed” and a homecoming princess. Far from being one of the “mean girls,” Haley had probably been popular with everyone in her school. Teachers, other students, cafeteria workers, custodians—she'd have been equally pleasant to all of them, and she would have had their vote for any position she ran for. She just had that way about her.