“Thank you, N—”
“She’s in exam room eleven,” Nurse Raskin said as she turned and marched back the way she’d come.
Dr. Addams let the abrupt departure slide. Just as he had the last time. And the time before that. Nurse Raskin, and the rest of the staff, had grown tired of voicing their disapproval of her visits, settling for freezing him out socially (and professionally).
“Ow, Andrew,” the mother yelped behind him. “You’re squeezing too tight.”
“Sorry mom,” the boy said. “That nurse scares me.”
Dr. Addams turned back to the two of them. After Raskin’s announcement, he’d forgotten they were still there.
“Can I let you in on a secret?” he told the boy, looking around like he was about to confide something major to him. “Sometimes, she scares me too.”
Once again, the boy fought to keep a smile from bursting through his face.
The mother didn’t share that same restraint. Her guffaw bellowed down the hallway, loud enough to be heard at the front desk and waiting room. She slapped his arm repeatedly, and this time he was sure it was no accident she kept hitting his bicep.
“A doctor and a sense of humor,” she observed. “Now, about that dinner,” she said, attempting a smooth transition.
“What dinner?” he asked.
Her eyes went wide, and he could tell she was replaying the entire visit in her head, up until Nurse Raskin had interrupted. He expected her eyes to bulge out of their sockets with embarrassment when she realized she hadn’t actually hinted at having him over and tipped her hand.
“Well…it’s just…uh…” she stammered. As painful as it was to watch, he knew it was tougher for her, grasping for words.
“I appreciate the offer to have me over for dinner for treating Andy,” he offered her a lifeline. Her face broke out with relief, but he cut her off before she could officially extend the invitation, “But they have me working most of the late shifts. I’m afraid I don’t get out of here until eight or nine.”
It wasn’t even a lie. The entire practice despised his visitor so much they were willing to make him suffer until he turned her away. It didn’t matter that he was one of the founding members of the practice, that he’d worked with most of the staff for over a decade, or that all told, he was a pretty good practitioner. They all asked him “as his friend” to send her away, but there was nothing friendly about their requests. Or their actions.
All he was doing was refusing to turn away a patient who was hurting.
The mother fumbled to come up with some alternative, another invitation that he’d be able to make, but he excused himself before she could. He was only delaying the inevitable. The ailments little Andy was experiencing had increased dramatically since her divorce.
The door to room eleven was ajar as he approached it. One of the nuns who made the rounds, consoling those who’d lost loved ones and handing out pamphlets to battered women, was already inside. That was rare. Even the sisters tended to stay away from his favorite patient.
“You’d be surprised at the results prayer can yield,” the sister said. “When we humble ourselves before God, we always find Jesus is a powerful force to have in your corner.”
She chuckled. “Baby, I guarantee I spend more time on my knees than you.” She waved a hand across her face. “Look how far it’s got me.”
He couldn’t help snorting in amusement, drawing the attention of both of them. “Doc!” she exclaimed.
Even through her lumpy, purple face, she looked gorgeous.