Once a Good Girl...

“Before we get you back into bed I want to check you for injury,” Kyle said. “Can you move your arms and legs for me?”

“I’m crushing poor Tori,” Mrs. Teeton worried.

“A dainty little thing like you?” Kyle asked. “I think she’s mistaken you for a blanket. She looks about ready to fall asleep.”

Victoria smiled, a bright, encouraging smile he remembered from the hours she’d spent tutoring him. The one that used to make him feel all warm inside. And you know what? Still did.

“He’s right,” Victoria said.

Kyle patted the dog’s head. “Good girl.” She opened a sleepy eye.

With his assistance, Mrs. Teeton moved her arms, legs, and head without a report of physical discomfort. “I’m going to lift you into bed.” She felt like a child in his arms. A small woman, like Victoria, Mrs. Teeton had all but stopped eating since her diagnosis three weeks ago, losing an estimated eleven desperately needed pounds. Too weak to participate in her own care and refusing psychological counseling, she had the highest acuity ranking of any patient on Kyle’s roster.

Once in bed, Victoria took over, checking the patient’s abdominal incision and taking her blood pressure before tucking her into bed. “The incision looks good. Your blood pressure is low. Before I put a call in to your doctor, tell us what happened.”

“I’m so tired.”

“It’s important.” Kyle put his hand on her lower leg, touch a big part of his therapy.

“I wanted to give Tori a treat from my breakfast,” Mrs. Teeton said, her eyes closed.

“That breakfast is for you to eat, not Tori. And I told you, she’s trained not to accept food from patients.”

A hint of a smile curved her lips. “Wanted to see. Sat up but so dizzy.” She sounded about to drift off to sleep. “Started to roll forward. Tori caught me.” She mumbled something ending with, “Good dog.”

“That’s the most I’ve heard her say since admission. And I visit her every day,” Victoria said quietly, looking at Mrs. Teeton’s sleeping form.

“Tori gets them talking.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” She looked up at him, her beautiful blue eyes soft and warm. “You were great with her. So gentle and kind.”

The hint of disbelief he detected bothered him. Before he could call her on it she headed for the door. “I’ll call Dr. Starzi. Would you please put up all four bedrails and make sure her call-bell is within reach?”

As he was in the process of raising the last bed rail, someone walked into the room. A nurse, dressed in what he’d recently learned were 5E’s trademark lavender scrubs. Brown hair up in a messy knot, girl-next-door pretty. Even with the surprise of her pregnant belly, Kyle recognized her instantly. His friend Ali Forshay, who Victoria had befriended back in tenth grade, as unlikely a pair as he and Victoria had been. Some kids had accused Victoria of slumming, others had called Ali and Kyle her charity projects.

Maybe they had been.

Good, a friendly face. He clicked the railing into place. One of the two he’d hoped to see while back in town. At least he’d thought so until he noticed her scowl.

She observed the patient then pulled the cord to turn off the overhead light. With narrowed eyes and pursed lips she pointed at him and then the window.

Did she expect him to jump?

A second later she grabbed him by the lab coat and pulled him deeper into the room, yanking the curtain partition into place as she did. The second bed lay flat, empty and raised to the highest position with the covers folded down at the foot of the bed, likely waiting for the occupant to return from the OR.

“Why did you come back?” she whispered curtly.

Because Dr. Starzi was the best oncologist around and Kyle refused to pass up the opportunity to work with him simply because of where he had to do it. And what reformed degenerate wouldn’t want to ride the success train back into his hometown? Show everyone who’d labeled him worthless and turned a blind eye in his direction except to blame him for things he hadn’t done and threaten him away from their daughters that they’d made a mistake in writing him off.

“No hug?” he asked, half teasing. In anticipation of seeing Ali he’d visualized their happy reunion. They’d been pals, both with difficult home lives. They’d looked out for one another. It’d been Ali who’d suggested Victoria tutor him when the thought of failing out of high school hadn’t bothered him all that much. He owed her, planned to help her out if she needed it. But from the looks of her, and the size of the diamond engagement ring on her finger, she’d turned out okay, too.

“You’re lucky I don’t scratch your eyes out after what you did,” she said.

And she looked ready to do it. He took a step back, kind of glad to have Tori in the room. “Exactly what did I do?”

“You stay away from Victoria.” Again the pointing, this time at his chest. “Better yet, go back to where you came from.”

“Hey,” he said quietly, cupping her bent elbow. “We were friends. What happened?”

She looked up at him, her expression a mixture of sadness and hurt. “You’re not the person I thought you were. I’m sorry I ever encouraged Victoria to give you a chance.”

Ali had been one of three people to see something good in him, something of value, at a time when he had been unable to see it himself. Victoria and her Aunt Livi had rounded out the triumvirate.

The intercom in the room sounded. “Recovery Room on line two, Ali.”

“Be right there,” she responded without taking her eyes off of him. “Do the right thing, Kyle. Leave. And don’t come back. Victoria’s worked so hard to put her life back together. She’s interested in a man for the first time since you …”

What? Since he what?

“You are the last thing she needs right now.”

With that parting shot, Ali, at one time his closest friend, turned and left.

Back in town for two days and Kyle had more questions than answers. If Victoria hadn’t cried rape, where had the accusation come from? What was she doing in Madrin Falls, working as a nurse? A caring, competent nurse from what he’d heard and seen, but why hadn’t she gone to Harvard to become a physician as planned? Why was Ali warning him off? Why did Victoria’s life need putting back together? The most stable, together person he knew, why was she suffering panic attacks? Who was Jake and how serious was their relationship?

Sensitive to turmoil, Tori nuzzled his thigh. He petted her soft head. “We’ll find out, girl.” And since Victoria and Ali didn’t seem eager to enlighten him, after work he’d visit Aunt Livi.

The small raised ranch-style home looked better than he could ever recall seeing it. Neater. Prettier. The white siding could have passed for new, the once-dingy black shutters gleamed and a bright red door matched what looked like a freshly painted version of the heavy, antique planters he’d lugged out of the garage every spring and back every fall, which sat at either side of the front porch steps.

The gravel driveway he’d shoveled every winter for years looked newly paved, and the grass he’d mowed summer after summer, while sodden from the winter thaw, seemed fuller, healthier.

Odds were Livi had finally snagged herself a man with an interest in home maintenance. Good for her. Only knowing she had a man inside made him feel a bit guilty showing up at dinnertime, with an apple pie and an empty stomach.

The woman knew how to cook, and had never passed up an opportunity to invite Kyle in for a meal. Something he used to thank his lucky stars for, daily.

A boy responded to his knock. That was unexpected. He looked familiar. Probably because he shared Livi’s kinky red hair.

“I thought you were the UPS man,” he said with disappointment. “Mom,” he yelled over his shoulder. “There’s a man at the door.”

The kid looked up at him, got an odd look on his face. Kyle noticed his eyes, the same eyes that stared back at him every time he looked in the mirror.

“Jake Forley, you know better than to open the door when you don’t know who it is,” a familiar female voice said from the top of the stairs.

Over the kid’s shoulder Kyle caught a glimpse of Victoria, heading toward the door, looking very at home in pink warm-up pants and a white V-neck T.

This was Jake? Kyle shifted so Victoria couldn’t see him. “Is that your mom?” Kyle asked quietly.

The boy nodded.

“How old are you?”

“Eight.”

Holy hell!

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