if you tried to hide what you’re feeling, but I bet a bunch of hugs and kisses would make them feel a lot better.”
Sarah smiled, then picked up the doll whose hair she had been brushing before Frannie had walked into the room. “I can do that,” she said, then returned to the doll.
Frannie held it together as she said goodbye and promised Sarah that she would be back the next day to see her with her own doll.
Sarah’s parents had requested that she speak to the little girl after she had become upset at the mention of having a tube placed inside her to help with her nutrition. Now that Frannie knew about her conversation with Amy, she understood why. She’d speak with the little girl’s parents to let them know her concerns.
She walked out to the hallway and almost ran straight into Ian.
“Oh, sorry,” she said, then looked up into troubled eyes that matched her own. “You heard?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, then took a step back from her.
“Sarah’s been through so much already, and I just don’t know how the parents keep doing it,” she said.
“Keep doing what? Watching the doctors trying to save her life?” he asked.
“I know, but—” she started. She could hear the anger in his voice. What had she said this time? She’d just been going to say that it had to be hard on the parents of the little girl, as every day they had to face making decisions that would impact their child.
“No, Dr. Wentworth, you don’t know. You know nothing about the pain a parent experiences when losing a child. Nothing. And no matter what your program does it won’t bring back a child to grieving parents. It won’t put them back together. It won’t fix their marriage. They’ll spend the rest of their lives waking up and questioning themselves, wondering if they did everything they could, if they missed some sign and whether that would have made a difference in their child’s life, if things would have been different if they had been there more for their child. You know nothing about how it feels to lose a child,” he said.
He turned and started to leave.
“Well, hello there,” said Dr. Guidry. “I have to say it’s a bit of a surprise to see the two of you having another discussion out here in the hallway.”
Frannie felt as if she was fourteen again, getting caught smoking in the girls’ bathroom by Sister Agnes.
“We were just...” She looked at Ian, waiting to see if he was going to help her out.
He lifted an eyebrow and continued to glare.
“It was just a misunderstanding,” she said. She gave Dr. Guidry a guilty smile, then continued. “We should have been more discreet,” she said, and forced herself to smile at Ian. “It won’t happen again. Will it, Ian?”
“I apologize, Dr. Guidry.” Ian finally spoke up. “Dr. Wentworth is right. We should have moved out of the hallway.”
Dr. Guidry studied the two of them with a stern look that had Frannie fighting the need to run. They were in big trouble.
“What we seem to have here is a communication problem, and I think that’s something the two of y’all could use some help with. So I’ll tell you what we’re going to do about it,” he said as he turned toward her. “My wife has been worried to death about not having enough volunteers to help with the hospital’s Mardi Gras float this year. I think it would be a great idea if the two of you help her out a bit—do some of that team-building the higher-ups are always preaching at me about. Doesn’t that just sound like fun?” he said as he turned toward Ian.
The look on Ian’s face—a face that was usually so unreadable—showed signs of shock and maybe a little bit of horror. Did the thought of working with her scare him that much?
Or maybe he was one of those men who didn’t like to get his hands dirty with actual physical work? Though judging by the hard build of his body the man worked at something besides what he did in the operating room. He was probably one of those gym rats, and the only sweating he did was on a machine surrounded by other people.
Or maybe it was fear of injuring his hands. Her father had always refused to do anything in which he could injure his hands.
“I don’t think that’s necessary, Dr....um... Richard,” Ian said. “I’m sure you’re aware how busy the hospital is right now.”
“The hospital’s always busy. Look at it this way: you’ll be helping an old man out here. Happy wife, happy life and all that. And don’t worry—I’ll be right there with y’all. Like I said, it’ll be fun.”
The two of them watched the older doctor as he headed back down the hall, calling out hellos to other staff members as he went.
“Maybe if you talk to him you can get him to change his mind,” Ian said as he turned back to her.
“Me? It’s your fault. You talk to him,” she said. “But I can tell you you’ll be wasting your time.”
“None of this is my fault,” he said. He looked down at his watch, then back up to her. “And now I’m running late for a case. Talk to him. Make him see reason. Tell him we’ll play nice together.”
She couldn’t help but smile at his comment.
“Hmm... Didn’t you tell me just the other day that you didn’t play with your colleagues?”
He gave her a look so sharp that it would have drawn blood—except for the fact that she dealt with traumatized teenagers on a daily basis. It would take a lot more than a look to intimidate her.
“Again, this is not my fault,” she said. “If you want to risk it, talk to him yourself. Dr. Guidry is a teddy bear most times, but break one of his rules and the teddy bear turns into a great big grizzly—and a hard-headed one at that. If I was you I’d just accept your sentence and deal with it. Which is exactly what I intend to do.”
She watched as the man walked off, muttering something about busybody doctors and nosy psychiatrists. She hadn’t been nosy—though she’d wanted to be after the way he had gone off after her comment concerning Sarah’s parents.
Did he really think she was judging them? She would never presume to understand what the little girl’s parents were going through, but there had been enough anguish in Ian to know that he did relate to Sarah’s parents. It was the first time in the five months they’d been working together that she had seen any true emotion in the man. But why?
Had he lost a patient in surgery who haunted him? Or was it someone closer? Had he lost a sister or a brother? She had heard that he was divorced, but she’d never heard anything about him having children.
Whatever it was that had caused the pain she had heard in Ian’s voice, it had been traumatic and he was still suffering from it. And even after the way he had acted she couldn’t help but be concerned for him. He was hurting and he needed help. She knew he’d never ask for it, but maybe if she could get him to trust her, he would open up to her.
The idea of working with him on the hospital’s Mardi Gras float was actually sounding good now. It was exactly what the two of them needed
