A Family at Last

Turning a corner, she stopped short to avoid colliding with Chris. He halted, his face warming until he caught her stern look.

She wondered why he’d worn his white coat from the clinic and wished it didn’t look so good against his lightly tanned skin. “Can I help you?”

“I’m trying to find the director of nursing. She doesn’t seem to be around.”

“That’s Bailey O’Connor. She has the flu.” Abruptly, Karen realized he must be making rounds in Jenni’s place. She’d expected a substitute from Mill Valley, not him. “She left a list on her desk of patients to see. Are you sure you’re supposed to be here?”

“That’s what Jenni told me.”

“I guess she would know. Just a sec.” She nipped into the adjacent office and retrieved the list along with a stack of charts Bailey had prepared. “There’s nothing serious, or we’d have arranged for immediate treatment. Mostly adjustments to medications. I’m not sure how current you are about treating high blood pressure, high cholesterol and diabetes.”

“Diabetes is something I treat occasionally. High blood pressure and high cholesterol are rare.” Chris scanned the material. His quiet confidence inspired respect, although it still felt strange, viewing the boy she’d grown up with in the role of physician. “After I talk to the patients, I’ll phone Dr. Hardison in Mill Valley to discuss any changes.”

That sounded reasonable. Since Bailey had listed the appropriate room numbers, Karen supposed she could turn Chris loose to pay his calls. However, that was hardly fair to the residents.

“I’ll introduce you around,” she told him. “Even though people realize Jenni’s on her honeymoon, it might upset them to have a new doctor show up.” Less than half of the seventy occupants had met him at the winter party, and some of those suffered from mild memory loss.

“I can understand that.” He didn’t seem intimidated by the prospect of meeting a bunch of oldsters. Judging by the glint in his eye, he enjoyed the prospect. “I’ll do my best to loosen them up.”

“You aren’t going to blow bubbles through your sleeve, I hope,” Karen blurted.

“I thought I’d claim I’m here to give tango lessons,” Chris replied with a straight face.

She couldn’t keep from smiling. The guy had that effect on people, even her. “Who’s first?”

It was Mae Anne’s roommate, Fanny Granville, who’d been having circulation problems.

Since Fanny already knew Chris—as it turned out, she’d met him often enough to recognize him, despite her occasional forgetfulness—the meeting went well. So did the subsequent visits. His positive attitude and genuine liking for the elders encouraged them to talk freely.

They enjoyed his jokes, even the corny ones. “You folks are so young at heart, I can hardly tell you from my regular patients,” he teased one woman.

“That’s all right,” she replied merrily. “I’ve been telling my kids I’m entering my second childhood. Won’t they be amazed to find out I’m seeing a pediatrician!”

After finishing the list, Chris paused in the hallway beside Karen. “I’m having to dredge up a lot of knowledge I haven’t needed since my internship,” he admitted. “It’s fun in a way, but I’m going to recommend that the city contract with an outside physician to make these rounds the next time Jenni’s gone.”

Karen wasn’t sure she agreed. “Dr. Hardison isn’t always available. In the past we’ve had consultants who treated the symptoms but not the individuals. A big part of medicine is psychological, and the folks like you.”

His eyes widened. “That’s quite a compliment, especially from you.”

She hesitated, torn by a sense of disloyalty to Barry. “My residents come first,” she said at last.

“Whereas personally, you wish I’d drop off the face of the Earth,” he murmured.

“Something like that.” She didn’t mean to sound churlish, and was trying to decide whether to apologize, when she remembered that she’d meant to ask him about Davy. “Wait, we’ve got one more patient. He has eating problems and he’s uncooperative, to say the least. I suspect his medications might be affecting his appetite.”

Chris cleared his throat. “Saved the biggest challenge for last, eh?”

“You’re not kidding.”

They found Davy in the library, where Karen had amassed a collection of fiction and nonfiction titles. She also arranged rotating selections from the town library next door, since not all the residents were able to visit the facility in person.

The elderly man sat in an armchair, a large-print volume on his lap. He scowled at the sight of Chris’s white coat.

“Don’t need any dad-blamed doctors,” he announced. “Especially not some kindergartener.”

“Actually, I just finished elementary school.” The pediatrician glanced at the book. “What’re you reading?”

“Pornography.”

Chris nodded approvingly. “Large-print pornography. What a great idea.”

Davy snapped the book shut. “It’s about World War II. Ever heard of it?”

“Was that the war with Napoleon?” Chris asked. “Or the one where Teddy Roosevelt charged up San Juan Hill?”

Karen held her breath. If the grumpy fellow took the remark seriously, he’d never deign to discuss his medical problems.

However, he gave a bark of approval. “At least you’ve heard of San Juan Hill. Most of these youngsters, they don’t know what century we fought the Civil War in.”

Chris took a seat. “You’re a history buff?”

“People don’t expect that from a mechanic. They don’t think we can read anything more complicated than automotive manuals.” Davy regarded him cautiously. “Used to be, when a fellow graduated from high school, he knew plenty. Today, they give diplomas to gosh-darned illiterates.”

“And medical degrees to elementary students,” Chris added.

A guffaw escaped his patient. “What can I do for you, doc?”

“Tell me why you aren’t eating.”

Karen braced for a diatribe against Marquis’s menus. Instead, with unaccustomed mildness, Davy said, “My teeth hurt.”

“You need to see a dentist,” Chris replied promptly.

“Can’t stand dentists!”

“That’s why your teeth hurt,” came the calm admonition.

“We schedule regular checkups.” Karen searched her memory. “I don’t understand….” The truth hit her. “You always manage to get sick that day, don’t you? And put off rescheduling. Darn, I let you do an end run around me, didn’t I, Mr. Marshak?”

He cackled. “Got away with it, too.”

“Not anymore.” Chris regarded the man firmly. “Would you like me to come with you?”

“To the dentist?” Davy frowned. “You mean that?”

“Sure, if it would help.”

“I hate when they lay that chair back. Makes me feel helpless,” the old man admitted. “Nobody listens, either, not that I can talk with tools stuck in my mouth.”