Mac's Bedside Manner Part 21

Jolene looked up at him sharply. "Especially not Mac. We're just friends, anyway."

He looked at her for a long moment. "Whatever you want. But this isn't the kind of thing that you should deal with alone."

She forced a smile to her lips. "I'm not alone." Jolene blinked back the tears that were threatening to emerge. "I have you."

"Jolene-"

"I've done a great many things alone in the last few years, Doctor. I'm tougher than I look. And if I need to fall back on someone, I've got a great mother-who is absolutely going to freak out when she hears this, so I think I'll just keep this under wraps for a while if you don't mind."

He had another appointment to get to. He began to leave the room. "Just as long as you don't leave it that way for too long."

Too long. That had such a finite, terminal sound to it. "I understand."

He looked at her pointedly. "I hope you do. I'll have Rita schedule an appointment for you-" he began briskly.

She didn't want to deal with that just yet. With appointments and the surgery that loomed at the end. Or the possible consequences that might arise. She needed time to absorb what he'd just told her. "I'll get back to you on that if you don't mind."

She was frightened. He didn't blame her. He knew every tactic taken by a frightened patient. "Don't call us, we'll call you?"

"No, no, I'll call," she said slowly. "I just need some time, that's all."

He nodded. "Understood. Just don't make it too long," he cautioned again, closing the door behind him.

She waited until she was sure he wasn't returning and then let the tears come.

Jolene gave herself exactly five minutes to cry and feel sorry for herself, then she squared her shoulders and got dressed. Lunchtime was almost over and she had to get back to the E.R.

Chapter Fifteen.

F inding people to cover for him, Mac took the next few days off in order to make arrangements for the entirely unexpected turn his life had taken.

He'd gone to his sister for advice about a permanent sitter to watch Tommy during the hours when he worked. Jake Madison's cousin still worked in social services and he'd gotten the man's help in order to begin filing all the necessary paperwork that would eventually a.s.sure him of the boy's guardianship.

The process, though streamlined, still turned out to be a lot harder than Mac had antic.i.p.ated.

But taking the boy into his heart had been easier than he'd ever have thought possible.

Mac had never entertained the idea of fatherhood before, not even fleetingly. Kids were part of marriage and the latter was never going to be part of his life, so there was no chance of the former. But when fatherhood suddenly appeared without warning on his doorstep, he found himself slipping into the role effortlessly. And with pleasure.

Just like he'd slipped into this relationship he had with Jolene, he realized.

He'd become accustomed to having her within his day, within his mind. Whenever odd little things cropped up in the course of his day, he'd find himself wondering how Jolene would react.

Or he'd just sit inside an all too brief moment of respite and envision her smile. Nothing else, just her smile. The vision never failed to warm him.

The ease with which he'd gone from committed bachelor to committed lover astounded him.

What was even more astonishing was that, when confronted with the situation, he didn't suddenly feel like a drowning man desperately trying to swim for sh.o.r.e. This feeling pervading all through him wasn't a trap, it was a haven.

And he wanted it to continue.

He wanted, he knew, to have Jolene in his life for the long haul. He wanted for them to be a family. Jolene and Amanda, Tommy and him.

The fact that he had always been against this sort of thing no longer meant anything to him, carried no weight. Apparently his commitment phobia had come to an end, not with a bang, but with the tiniest of whispers.

And he couldn't have been happier about it.

The only problem was, the one person he needed to share this with eluded him.

He'd been back at the hospital for two days now. In that time, despite the fact that he knew she was on duty, he hadn't managed to cross Jolene's path. Every time he tried to find her, a nurse or orderly would tell him that he'd "just missed her."

What made it really odd was that she wasn't at home when he called and even though he'd left her messages, she didn't return them.

He began to wonder if he'd somehow done something to offend her without realizing it.

Wouldn't that be a kick in the head, he mused. All his life, he hadn't cared about maintaining relationships and they'd been there, waiting on him, ripe for the picking. Now he'd found someone he wanted to be with and she seemed to be avoiding him for some reason.

"Hey, Dr. Mac, the lady you're looking for is just coming out of Trauma Three," Jorge called out to him as he walked by.

Mac tossed the file he'd just picked up on the nurse's desk and rounded the corner, going down the corridor to Trauma Room Three.

He spotted her hurrying away from the room.

"Hey, Nurse DeLuca," Mac called out teasingly. When she didn't stop, he picked up his pace to catch up to her. "Didn't you hear me calling you?"

What the h.e.l.l was going on? he wondered. Taking her arm, he pulled her over to the side, out of the way of foot traffic and gurneys.

"No," she lied. She'd been playing hide-and-seek in the corridors for the last two days, but she'd known that eventually her luck was going to play itself out. She wasn't up to this, she thought, even as she offered him a polite, impersonal smile. "How's Tommy doing?"

Something was wrong. "Fine, but I didn't corner you to talk about Tommy."

She shrugged out of his grasp. "Mac, I don't have time to talk."

She'd never called him Mac before. He looked at her, his eyes pinning her far more effectively than his grip had. "You're harder to get a hold of than Tommy's stepfather was."

"I've been busy."

He put his hand up in front of her, barring her way. "That was his excuse, too. You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were avoiding me."

She ducked under his arm, then continued walking the way she'd been. "That's ridiculous."

Turning on his heel, he followed her down the corridor. "Then why haven't you returned any of my calls?"

She was aware that people were looking at them. She lowered her voice. "I told you, I've been busy. Am busy. Look, maybe we can talk later."

Then, without waiting for him to answer, she hurried off, leaving him to stand in her wake and wonder what had suddenly gone wrong.

Mac was waiting for her outside the staff lounge at the end of her shift. As she opened the door, he fell into place beside her. "Okay, this is later."

It took her a second to recover. Lost in thought, he'd startled her.

Hardening herself to what she knew was ahead, knowing that if she let it slide, if she let her guard down, she was going to pay an even greater price than she was right at this second, she told him coolly, "I have to go home, MacKenzie."

Formal. He didn't know whether he should be worried or not. "Fine, I'll come with you."

Jolene stopped abruptly. That was the last thing she wanted. For him to come home with her. Because if he did, she might just break down and tell him. And then suffer as she watched him ease himself away from her.

She was going to call the shots, not him. "No."

None of this was making any sense to him. "Is this the brush-off?"

Was that the sound of his ego taking offense that she heard? Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, right, you have no experience with that, do you? You're usually the brusher, not the brushee."

"What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?" When she turned away from him rather than answer, he grabbed her by the arm, forcing her to look at him. Anger warred with a sense of panic formed in the pit of his stomach. "Wait, I don't care what you're talking about. I don't want to go down this road any further, I just want this to be over."

She felt herself getting deliberately belligerent. "Oh, so what I feel doesn't count."

Where had that come from? "I didn't say that." He held her in place, his hands on her shoulders. He wasn't about to let her leave until they had this straightened out. "Jolene, what's wrong with you?"

She pushed his hands away defiantly, her chin up in an unspoken challenge. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong with me. I've just decided not to wait around for you to walk out on me, that's all. So I'm the one who's doing the walking."

He was hearing the words, but they weren't making any sense to him. "So you're telling me that you want to break up because you don't want to break up."

"Yes." She shook her head. "No." And then she blew out an angry breath. "You're confusing me."

"Well, that makes two of us." Losing his temper wasn't going to solve anything. And neither was giving in to the panic gnawing away at his belly. Mac tried again. "Listen to me, I don't want to break up, I want to cement together."

He was making it sound like a big joke. Well, none of it was funny to her. "That's what you say now, but-"

Maybe she wasn't listening. "That's what I say forever."

"You don't know the meaning of the word." She tried to leave again, but he wouldn't let her.

"Forever," he repeated, then said, "For all eternity. The opposite of never."

She recalled hearing somewhere that Mac had a photographic memory. That would account for why he probably never forgot a phone number. "That's from the dictionary."

He lifted a shoulder and then let it fall. "Works for me."

She couldn't stand here arguing with him anymore. It was ripping her apart. But she knew that if he found out about the aneurysm and then walked out on her, she wouldn't be able to stand it. This way was better.

Even though it hurt like h.e.l.l right now.

Jolene pushed his arm away and hurried from him. "I have to get home, Mac. Leave me alone."

"What did you do to her?"

Mac turned around to see Howard Monroe standing behind him. "I didn't do anything to her, but she just shot me at close range."

Howard smoothed down his drooping navy-and-white bowtie with his thumb and forefinger. His expression was compa.s.sionate when he looked at him. "Why don't you come by my office for a cup of coffee?"

Maybe letting her go to cool off like this wasn't the right idea. Mac shook his head. "I don't want a cup of coffee, Howard, I need to go after her-" He stopped, surprised when the surgeon took hold of his arm. Mac looked at him quizzically.

"Trust me, you'll want this cup of coffee."

Mac had always liked the older man, although he'd thought him a little eccentric. But right now, he was in no mood to indulge him. Still, if he ran after Jolene in her present mood, who knew what would be said?

"All right."

Mac walked in silence beside the white-haired man to the rear of the hospital. He was lost in his thoughts, trying to understand what had just happened.

The small office where Monroe saw patients at the hospital was located next to the MRI lab. He'd been in the office since 1966. There was clutter everywhere, held together by a layer of dust.

Picking up a handful of folders from the small table, Howard cleared off the surface. "Sit down," he said, depositing the folders in the corner on an extra chair.

Mac looked over his shoulder toward the doorway. He was wasting time. "I-"

"Sit down," Howard instructed more firmly. He picked up the coffeepot from the small burner he used and filled a cup.

Mac frowned, looking at his watch. "I've got a baby-sitter at home who charges double-time after five."

"You can afford it." Howard placed the cup of inky-black coffee in front of him. "So how's Jolene doing these days?"

It was an odd question, coming out of the blue like this. It wasn't as if he and Monroe had ever had close, intimate conversations. Theirs ran along the lines of discussing new operating techniques and upcoming medications.

Mac looked at him. "Why are you asking?"

Howard behaved as if it his inquiry was the most natural thing in the world. "I always take an interest in my patients."

He stared at the other man. "Jolene's your patient? Why? What did she come to see you for?"

Howard raised a brow, his kindly eyes meeting Mac's. Poor kid's been through the wringer, he thought. "You know I can't discuss that."

That was under normal circ.u.mstances. The circ.u.mstances here weren't normal. They were about Jolene. "All right, show me her file."

Crossing to the file cabinet, Howard pulled out a large folder and held it aloft. "You mean this one?" He shook his head when Mac reached for it. "That's not ethical, either."

Mac was just about at the end of his tether. Something was wrong with Jolene and he needed to know what. "Howard, the h.e.l.l with ethics."

"No." Howard's voice was very calm, very soft. Someone had once said that he'd be the last man to lose his head in the middle of a disaster. "Without ethics, patients wouldn't trust us and then we couldn't do our jobs. It's part of our code. Just like washing our hands."