our newest family counselor. Please introduce yourself later. We have patients to see.” His mouth tightened briefly but his words didn’t falter. “Please see that she stays in the loop on all cases.” His intense blue gaze pinned her again. “I’ll have to get you up to speed later on the patient you missed.”
She looked away.
Dr. O’Doherty made a few more comments as they moved down the hallway to the next patient, then the next, stopping in front of another door. He paused. His attention focused on her again. “This is Brian Banasiak. I removed a blood clot three days ago. This is one case I believe that it might be beneficial to have you involved in.”
Might? Lucy wasn’t sure she needed his seal of approval but she didn’t say so. Neither was she certain how she felt about the left-handed compliment. In her last position she’d been considered the “go to” person when a family was having a difficult time coping with their child’s illness or injury. Her role was seen as important in overall patient care.
Apparently Dr. O’Doherty viewed her work as a sideline to his godly power. She’d do her job effectively then maybe she could change the narrow-minded man’s opinion.
“I understand his head trauma occurred during an auto accident,” she said quietly. “I’m going to discuss the benefits of therapy at home with the parents. Also assistance with home schooling. These parents have a long road ahead of them. The adjustment of having gone from a perfectly normal child to one who needs help eating and dressing will be difficult at best to accept.”
Dr. O’Doherty’s look of surprise along with similar ones from the others made her want to pump her fist in elation. She’d managed to wow the man. Why it should matter she didn’t know, but it felt good.
He pursed his lips and nodded as if he might be impressed. “Thank you, Ms. Edwards. You’ve obviously done your homework.”
“The family clearly cares about their child and I gather are willing to do what it takes for Brian to recover. I’ll be speaking with them first thing in the morning to determine any additional needs.”
Dr. O’Doherty gave her a quick nod and with a rap of his knuckles on the door entered the room. Along with the rest of their group, Lucy moved to stand next to the boy’s bed.
The parents of the boy came to stand across the bed from the group. Dr. O’Doherty paid them no attention.
“Brian, how’re you feeling today?” Dr. O’Doherty asked.
The eight-year-old boy offered a weak smile. His entire head was swathed in white gauze. His eyes had dark circles under them and there was puffiness about his face that lingered from having surgery.
“Okay, I guess,” the boy said with little enthusiasm.
“Well, from all I hear from your nurse, you’re my star patient,” Dr. O’Doherty stated. “So give me a high five.”
That managed to get a slight smile out of the boy. He raised his small hand and met the doctor’s larger one with a smack.
Dr. O’Doherty pulled his hand back. “Ow! See, you’re already getting stronger.”
Brian’s smile broadened.
The doctor did have a way with kids.
“I’m going to take a look at your head. Maybe we can give you a smaller bandage.”
“It’s itchy.” The boy wrinkled his nose.
“Yes. That means you’re getting better. I’ll see if we can’t help with that problem.”
As he removed the gauze, Lucy watched the parents’ faces to gage their reactions. Death wasn’t the only time people experienced grief. A major life trauma could bring on the emotion. Lucy knew that all too well. She’d run to get away from hers.
“Will he be able to ride a bike?” the boy’s mother asked. “Do we have to worry about him falling?”
Dr. O’Doherty didn’t look at the mother as he said, “Ms. Walters, my clinical nurse, can answer those questions for you.” He continued to unwrap the bandage.
The mother looked like she’d been struck. She stepped back from the bed.
He continued to examine the surgical site then spoke to the floor nurse standing next to him. “I believe we can place a four-by-four bandage over this.” He looked at the boy. “You’ll look less like a pirate but it won’t be so itchy.”
That statement brought a real smile to the boy’s face.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dr. O’Doherty said, before turning to leave. He shook the big toe of the boy’s foot as he moved toward the door
The mother followed him out into the hall. “Dr. O’Doherty, we were wondering what to expect next,” the mother said, tears filling her eyes.
“My nurse will answer all your questions.”
Lucy compressed her lips. Where had all the charm that had oozed from him seconds before gone?
“Will he ever be like he was?” The mother’s eyes pleaded to know.
“I don’t make those kinds of promises,” Dr. O’Doherty clipped.
The mother looked stricken again.
This man had a sterling bedside manner where his patients were concerned but he sure lacked finesse with the parents. Why was he suddenly so cold?
Lucy stepped forward, not looking at Dr. O’Doherty for permission. She placed an arm around the woman’s shoulders. “Mrs. Banasiak, I’m Lucy Edwards, the family counselor. I think I can help answer some of your questions.”
The mother sagged in relief. She shot a look at Dr. O’Doherty and then said to Lucy, “Thank you, so much.”
Dr. O’Doherty progressed on down the hall with his group in tow without a backward glance. Lucy hung back to speak to the parents further. The watery eyes and fragile smile of the mother touched Lucy’s heart. These were the type of people who needed her. It felt good to be using her skills again.
Ryan paused in front of the last patient-to-be-seen door. Turning, he waited for the group to join him. Ms. Edwards was missing. Should he really be surprised? He discussed the patient, while his frustration grew. She could speak to the parents on her own time.
“We’re glad you could join us,” he said when she finally walked up.
Her eyes didn’t meet his. The woman didn’t like having the spotlight on her. By the way she dressed and spoke so softly, he guessed she spent most of her time in the shadows. “I needed to reassure the parents,” she said quietly.
Pushing the door of the patient room open, he stepped in. “Hi, Lauren,” he said to the ten-year-old sitting up in bed, watching TV. “I believe you’ll be ready to go home tomorrow. How does that sound?”
The grandmother, who was the girl’s caretaker, stepped to the bed. “That’s wonderful. What do we need to do about getting her back in school
