Bobby Hutchinson - [Emergency 01] - Side Effects (HSR 723).htm Read online

  "Of course, ummm, Hollister."

  "If you're going to eat cake with Emily, you need a chair and a very large bib," Becky announced, guiding Alex to a seat next to Winifred's bed and spreading a towel across Alex's lap. "You'll probably need a shower, too, by the time you're done."

  She removed the little blue sweater. "Don't want to get this all chocolatey, honey." She gave Alex an uncertain look. "You sure you don't want me to take over for this performance, Alex?"

  "Not at all. We'll make out just fine."

  Everyone seemed to be watching now, and affectionate laughter erupted when Emily crowed with delight. She squirmed around on Alex's lap so she could reach the plate and, with Alex holding on tightly to both cake and child, Emily happily began shoving pieces of it into her mouth. She scattered crumbs everywhere, smearing Alex and every exposed inch of her own white dress with liberal amounts of chocolate icing, all the while making sounds that indicated how very pleased she was with this windfall.

  "Don't say I didn't warn you." Becky rolled her eyes and went for a washcloth and a basin, and King led the group in a rendition of "Happy Birthday." With his help, Winifred opened her gifts.

  Smeared with cake, and aware that Emily had wet her diapers through, Alex watched the elderly doctor charm the entire roomful of women. For the first time, she began to understand something of the nature of the relationship that Korbin Lake shared with Hollister King. He was one of their own, Alex mused. He might make mistakes, serious ones, but the community indulged him because of his roots here and the kind of good fellowship he was displaying right now. When his eyes met Alex's, there was both triumph and challenge in his hard blue gaze.

  I can afford to be magnanimous to you if I choose, his look said. Because just like all the others who 've been here before you, you 'II lose. You 'II leave, and I'll still be here.

  "Give her to me, Alex, now that she's totally wrecked you." Becky crouched and gently scrubbed Emily's face and hands and legs with a soapy cloth. "Gosh, I'm sorry about your blouse and slacks. Send me the dry-cleaning bill."

  "Nonsense. They're cotton, and they wash like a dream."

  Becky finished sponging Emily down and lifted her up into her arms. "Miss Muffet here needs to go home and have a bath and a nap." Becky's eyes were filled with gratitude and affection. "Thanks for being so patient with her."

  "My pleasure." Alex's arms felt empty without the warm weight of the little girl. The other guests were all leaving now as well, and Winifred had fallen asleep, her head on one side, her breathing stertorous.

  King chatted quietly for a moment with one of the nurses and then, with a curt nod to Alex and a gentle chuck under Emily's chin, he, too, left.

  Sadie and Lily gathered up the remnants of the party, and Alex walked out to the parking lot with the family, helping to carry the food containers. She waited beside their battered old station wagon as Becky strapped Emily into an infant seat.

  Alex bent and pressed a kiss into one of Emily's palms and folded the flaccid little fingers around it, smiling at the sleepy girl. "Bye, sweets. Thanks for befriending me."

  "You must come over soon and have a cup of tea with us," Sadie insisted. "Emily's going to want to see you again real soon and she pretty much rules the household."

  "I'm off on Saturday, if that's good for you, Alex," Becky added immediately. "Come about three. Emily'll be up from her nap by then. And maybe wear a scrub suit in case she decides to share food with you again."

  They all laughed. "Here's our phone number. Call just before you leave and I'll give you directions." Becky scribbled on the back of an old grocery list. "Not that anybody could stay lost long in Korbin Lake."

  "Don't bet on it. I'm not used to these small towns," Alex joked. They all laughed again and waved as Alex made her way to her own car.

  She drove home feeling happier and more relaxed than she'd felt since her arrival in Korbin Lake, and it wasn't until she turned down her own driveway that she began to wonder if Becky Jones had deliberately orchestrated the meeting with King in Winifred's room.

  Alex knew there were very few secrets among hospital staff, and of course Becky would know every detail of the feud between Alex and King. Perhaps she'd counted on the intimacy of the party to ease the situation. If so, Alex was indebted to the nurse. King would never be a bosom buddy, but at least now they were speaking, and it eased the tension for everyone.

  Cameron's Jeep was in the yard, so he was home from work. Her heart soared, and she leaped out of the car and hurried into the house, eager to tell him all about her new patients, the party, Emily, and especially the fact that she and Hollister King were now on a first-name basis.

  "Cam? Cam, where are you? You'll never guess what happened." Her voice echoed through the house, and Pavarotti came and wound around her ankles.

  There was no answer, and Alex made her way into the kitchen.

  There was a note taped to the fridge.

  "Gone fishing with Dave. Packed a lunch, so don't wait supper. Love ya, Cam."

  The cat meowed, and across the lake the inland gulls shrieked and dipped over the sun-speckled water. The empty house suddenly seemed too large and far too lonely. On impulse, she went to the telephone and dialed Thea's number, needing to talk to someone. To her surprise, Thea answered instantly.

  "Alex, hi. How's it going up there? How's it feel, being a country doctor?"

  "I'd starve if I had to depend on what I'm earning," Alex said with rueful honesty. "But I've met some nice people." She told Thea about Becky and her family, and the other woman asked questions and seemed interested.

  Alex, feeling guilty at talking only about herself, said, "How's it going with you?"

  "Busy. Nutty. We're doing a catalogue right now for next spring, heavy sweaters and leggings. We'll be shooting swimsuits in December, just as usual, and then I'll freeze my butt off."

  Alex laughed. "How is it with Wade? I tried to phone him and he refused to speak to me, so I guess he's still pretty difficult."

  "He sure is, and I'm getting sick and tired of it." Thea sighed, and Alex could sense her exasperation. "He's getting the tongs off tomorrow. He's regained a lot of sensation in his legs, and his other injuries are healing fast. Things are going so well, and yet he's still being such a bonehead, picking fights with me over nothing, doing everything he can to drive me away." Thea's voice revealed how upset she was.

  "Honestly, Alex, I don't know how much more of this I can take. I talked to that therapist you suggested, and she says it's a deep fear of being abandoned that makes Wade act this way. He figures I'll leave him anyhow now that he's injured, so he's doing everything he can to make it happen." Thea's voice changed, and now she sounded really angry. "Talk about not trusting me, the jerk. I still love him, but I sure don't like him very much right now. If he wasn't flat on his back, so help me, I'd give him a fat piece of my mind."

  "Why don't you do exactly that?" The words were out before she had a chance to think about them, and Alex hoped to God she was giving Thea the right advice. "Stop letting him get away with it, and tell him how you feel for a change." She thought of Cameron, and her own festering anger, and it dawned on her that maybe she ought to take her own advice.

  "You think I should?" Thea sounded uncertain. "Your mother keeps on and on at me about not upsetting him, how we have to understand how he must be feeling."

  Alex snorted. "My mother's never had the slightest idea how Wade was feeling, or anyone else for that matter. Don't let her bully you." Again, her own words surprised her. She'd never really realized until this moment that her mother was a bully.

  "I try not to, but if s hard. She's pretty overwhelming. But it's not her I want to live with, it's Wade. So you really figure I should level with him, huh?'

  "I do." As she thought it over, Alex was sure it was the right thing. "It's time he started appreciating you a little more. If I were there, I'd tell him so."

  "Thanks, Alex." Thea's voice was suddenly thick with emoti
on. "Y'know, I used to feel so inadequate around you—me a model with a measly grade-twelve education and you a doctor."

  Alex protested, knowing all the while that she had harbored some of the wrong ideas about Thea, too.

  "I want you to know I don't feel that way anymore," Thea went on. "I'm really glad we got to know each other, even though it took Wade's accident to do it."

  Alex was deeply touched. She felt the same way, and when she hung up a few minutes later, it was with a sense of warm affection for Thea. She prayed she'd been right in suggesting a confrontation with Wade.

  Again, she thought of Cameron and the problems the two of them were having. She hated confrontation, but it was cowardly of her to recommend it to Thea and avoid it herself.

  "HEY ALEX, WE'RE HOME."

  Cameron dumped three lake trout in the kitchen sink and rinsed his hands under the tap. He could hear the television in the small sitting room, and he went along the hallway and into the room where Alex was curled on the sofa watching an awards show, the cat asleep on her knees.

  "Sorry we're late. We met a guy who took us out in his boat, and then we had a beer with him when we got back. He's a supervisor up at the mine, and he says there's a job opening that Dave should apply for.''

  Alex gave him a vague smile. "Where is David?"

  "Gone to have a shower. He's going into town."

  "You going with him?''

  The tone of her voice set off a warning bell. "Of course not. He's probably going to check out the action at the local pub." He frowned at her. "What's the matter, honey? You mad at me because I went fishing? Tonight's practically the first free time I've had all week."

  She shook her head. "It's not the fishing." There was a silence and then she said, "It does seem as if you're gone all the time, though. I thought when Greg got back we'd have some time to spend together, but it hasn't worked out that way, has it? Greg's been back all week, and still I've barely seen you."

  He knew she was right, and guilt made him defensive. "That's ridiculous. I've been home every evening."

  She nodded. "Yeah, you have. You're here, but we don't really communicate much anymore. You and David are either playing chess or fishing or watching football. I wait for you to come to bed, but I'm usually asleep before you get there."

  For some reason Cam didn't care to explore, her accusation made him angry. "I didn't invite Dave out here, Alex, but you know as well as I do that he needed to get out of the city. And I can't just ignore him now that he's here, can I? I figure maybe he'll have a chance to straighten out his life, being with you and me. Obviously you don't see it that way."

  She clicked off the television, moved the cat and wrapped her arms protectively around her drawn-up knees. "I admit I'm not overjoyed about David staying here right now." She drew a breath and let it out again with a whoosh. "But it's you I have a real problem with, Cam. You've been using David as a reason to distance yourself from me, and it hurts." Her voice trembled. "Do you realize that we've never once sat down and really discussed this move and the effect it's had on our hves? You talked a little about the reasons you felt it was necessary, but you seem blind to the fact that having to come here has affected my life, my work, just as much as it has yours."

  Her voice wobbled, and he realized she was on the verge of tears. "Because of you, I left a job I loved to come to a place where my skills are being wasted. I sit around waiting for patients, grateful if I get two or three a day. Damn it, Cameron, I used to see fifty cases a day, maybe more, at busy times at St. Joe's. It's your choice we're here. The very least you owe me is sympathy and an opportunity to complain about what's bothering me without having to make an appointment with you to do it."

  Your choice. Your fault. Cam could feel cold sweat trickling down his back, soaking his armpits. Again, guilt made him defensive, and he knew he sounded harsh, but he couldn't control it. "I've told you I'm sorry I screwed up our lives, what more can I say? You're not the only one having problems at work. I'm having a hell of a time learning everything I need to know to run this detachment. And I'm not working long hours to avoid you, Alex. I'm just trying to do my job as well as I know how."

  "At the expense of our marriage, Cameron? You know, I still can't really understand why you made the decision to move here without so much as consulting me. We've never had a chance to talk it out between us."

  "I've talked about it all I ever intend to, Alex. The move was a value decision on my part, and I made it. If that's not good enough for you, well, I'm sorry." He knew he was being hard and unfeeling, but at the moment he didn't care. His own emotions were threatening to overwhelm him. "I know you and your family feel the need to discuss everything to death, but believe it or not, there are people around who handle their problems differently."

  "You call this handling a problem?" She was visibly trembling now, and part of him was ashamed, mortally ashamed for upsetting her this way.

  "This is avoidance, Cameron. This is sticking your head in the sand and pretending that everything's fine. And in case you hadn't noticed, it's not fine at all. Whether you want to admit it or not, this move is affecting our relationship in a terrible way. And on top of that, you've closed yourself off from me, and no matter how hard I try, I can't communicate with you anymore."

  "Communicate." He spat out the word. "You're beginning to sound exactly like your mother, Alex. That's her catchword for everything, communicate." He knew all too well that the last thing she ever wanted was to be compared to Eleanor. Again, a tiny part of him was horrified by his own cruelty, but he couldn't seem to stop. He snarled, "Just don't try to psychoanalyze me, okay, Doctor Ross?"

  Shock and pain tracked parallel paths across her mobile features, and her full lips trembled. He watched her throat contract as she swallowed hard.

  With visible effort she got to her feet and moved past him, careful not to touch him in any way. He heard her footsteps going up the stairs, and he heard their bedroom door close softly. He knew he should race up those stairs after her, drag her into his arms and apologize his fool head off. He should somehow make it right between them, this instant, he knew he should.

  But it was like a treadmill. The moment he apologized, she'd want to talk, she'd ask again for an explanation of the whole mess, and he just didn't have one to offer. A sense of humiliation made him cringe whenever he realized how he'd messed up their lives, yet his pride wouldn't let him discuss it. He needed to forget about it all. Why didn't she understand that?

  He cursed in a steady stream, located the keys to the Jeep in his pants pocket and headed for the front door. Being a policeman meant there were always stacks of reports to write, forms to fill out, requisitions to sign.

  For the first time in his career, Cam thought of the endless paperwork on his desk as an advantage.

  IT WAS THE WORST FIGHT they'd ever had, because it didn't get resolved.

  Alex lay awake hour after hour that night, waiting for Cameron to come home, planning what to say. She heard David arrive just after midnight, and she lay, tense and expectant, thinking Cam would be right behind him. But when 2:00 a.m. came, and then 3:00, and still her husband hadn't returned, hurt turned to icy anger and rebellion.

  She wouldn't allow him to control her like this. She wouldn't lie awake waiting for him to choose to come to her. With her pillow under her arm and an extra comforter from the closet, she moved into one of the spare bedrooms for the remainder of the night, finally slipping into exhausted slumber just at dawn.

  She woke with a pounding headache to a silent house and the certain knowledge that she'd overslept—she hadn't brought the alarm clock in with her when she changed bedrooms. A quick survey indicated that although Cam hadn't slept in their bed, either, he must have returned at some point to shower and put on his uniform—his gun was gone from the dresser, and the towels in the bathroom were wet. He must have been especially quiet so as not to awaken her, and her spirits sank even further.

  His actions confirmed what she a
lready knew, what she'd accused him of doing—he was isolating himself from her.

  As she quickly showered and dressed, her stomach in knots and her fingers clumsy, she recalled other quarrels they'd had. Always, within a few hours or a day at most, they'd been resolved, the wounds they'd both created with harsh words soothed and healed with lovemaking. Inevitably, at some point during the night, they'd ended up in each other's arms, which in turn made it possible to discuss whatever was wrong.

  Maybe having extra bedrooms were more of a curse than a blessing, she thought miserably. She hurried down to the kitchen just in time to surprise Pavarotti up on the counter, happily finishing off three fresh fish Cam must have left in the sink.

  She scolded him, cleaned up the mess, then put out fresh water and an open tin of cat food to try to keep him honest, reminding herself that she and Cam had made love since she'd come to Korbin Lake and it hadn't helped one bit.

  Just as she was getting into the car to drive to work, her ambulance beeper went off, and she used her portable phone to make the call as she steered out onto the main road.

  There'd been a car accident at a level crossing on the highway five miles east of town, and Alex hurried to the site.

  There were already a half-dozen cars lined up, and she pulled onto the verge and got out, taking her medical bag and running along the row of cars to the scene of the accident.

  A woman was screaming. Broken glass littered the pavement. A blue pickup truck lay wheels up in the ditch, and an older-model black car with its passenger side smashed in sat at an angle in the middle of the highway, blocking two lanes of traffic.

  The ambulance crew was already there, as well as the police cruiser. Greg Townsend was directing traffic around the scene, and Cameron was crouched on his haunches beside three teenagers, two boys and one girl. It was the girl who was screaming and sobbing hysterically. The teens were sitting in the grass on the edge of the highway. One of the boys sat hunched over, his head resting on his knees. Martha was kneeling beside him, examining his shoulder.