Bobby Hutchinson - The Family Doctor

“People make mistakes,” she began. “No one did anything deliberate.”

“What about that mix-up with the X rays? That was inexcusable. That was negligence. I actually thought for a few hours that I had sarcoma. Thank God the other patient didn’t get my results. I blame the ER staff for such incompetence.”

“I can imagine how terrible the whole thing was for you, but blaming only makes you the problem. The thing we should concentrate on is the solution, don’t you agree?”

He didn’t respond, and he didn’t seem mollified by her sympathy or her appeals to reason. She reverted to facts. “The ER was unusually busy that morning. There were dozens of Shriners with gastroenteritis, as well as the usual run-of-the-mill patients. And the other man did have the exact same name as you.”

He grunted.

It was wicked of her, but she did it, anyway. “Each and every individual who was involved with your case has asked me if they can visit you to apologize,” she said in a sweet voice. “Shall I tell them to come in today?”

He jerked upright, then swore, rubbing his sore leg. “God Almighty, not on your life. Tell them no.” He was horrified, and she hated herself for enjoying it. “I can’t face all those people trooping through here, making excuses.”

“But they feel responsible. And it would make them feel better.”

“Well, it wouldn’t do a damned thing for me. And it’s not up to me to make them feel better about nearly killing me, is it?”

He was a tough case. “Absolutely not,” she agreed. “But keep in mind that it was a system failure. Mistakes were made, but there was no malice whatsoever involved. Everyone is deeply concerned and upset over what occurred.”

“Which makes it all the more frightening,” he said with vehemence. “Concerned and upset aren’t what we’re aiming for at St. Joseph’s, warm and fuzzy as the words might make you feel, Kate.”

His sarcasm finally got to her. She had to struggle to stay calm. She reminded herself that an angry person was asking for love, but it wasn’t easy to believe that of the large man glaring up at her from the hospital bed.

“What is it you really want, Tony?”

Did she imagine it, or did his eyes flicker to her breasts?

He recovered fast and she couldn’t be absolutely sure.

“What I want for St. Joseph’s,” he finally ground out between his teeth, “is professionalism, competence, the best medical care humanly possible. And what I want from the staff is assurance that they aren’t going to screw up this way again.” His voice rose, echoing in the small room.

“Exactly how do you see that assurance? In writing?”

He frowned. She’d confused him. She felt wickedly pleased.

“What do you mean, ‘in writing’?”

“Well, you just told me you want assurance from the staff. In what form do you want it?”

“Are you putting me on? I’m not being literal here, for God’s sake. This isn’t kindergarten.”

“I understand that.” Ah, the power of sweet reason. “I’m simply trying to pinpoint what would make you feel better about all this. Would you like to meet with the staff and tell them how you feel?”

For a moment he considered that. Kate was relieved to see that his anger had diminished.

“Yeah, I sure do,” he finally said in a gruff voice. “Not right away, but in a few days. When I feel better, when I’ve got my strength back, then I’ll meet with them all and lay it on the line.”

Her heart sank. He was going to blast them, in spite of her efforts.

“Great.” It was anything but. “I’d be happy to arrange that meeting for you, if you want me to.”

“Yeah. Get hold of my secretary. She’ll help you set it up.”

There didn’t seem to be anything left to say. Kate stood up and started toward the door just as it swung open and a young girl skipped into the room. She had a mop of stick-straight strawberry-blond hair escaping from a ponytail, an engaging freckled face, and a smile that was like a magnet. Kate couldn’t help but respond to it.

“McKensy begged me to bring her to see you, Tony.” Georgia followed Tony’s daughter into the room and waved her fingers at Kate. “We’re both on our lunch hour, so she can only stay fifteen minutes. The traffic’s a nightmare and I promised her teacher she wouldn’t be late getting back. I’m going to grab us each a sandwich from the cafeteria. Be back in a few minutes.” With that, she hurried out the door.

“Papa, Papa,” McKensy squealed, racing for the bed. She threw herself up and into Tony’s welcoming embrace, covering his face with smacking kisses. “Oh, Papa, I’m so sorry you hurt your foot. I missed you so much. I was scared when I heard you had to stay here. Auntie Judy took me home with her. She drove me to school this morning. Uncle Peter took us all to Pizza Heaven for supper last night and I won a free root beer. Are you better now? When can you come home?”

“Hey, duchess, how you doing? Slow down a little, okay? We’ll take one question at a time.”

Kate was fascinated to see that Tony’s features had undergone a remarkable transformation. The frown had disappeared, and a wide grin lit his face. He had dimples in his cheeks that Kate had never been aware of, and the usual guarded expression in his eyes was replaced by warmth and such obvious affection it made her catch her breath when he turned to her, still smiling.

God, he was downright hazardous to her health when he looked like this.

“Kate, I’d like you to meet my daughter, McKensy. McKensy, this is Ms. Lewis.”

The shape of McKensy’s mouth was the same as his. She had his exact smile, but hers had no restraint. It was spontaneous, trusting and generous. It made her animated little face radiantly beautiful, even though, feature by feature, she wasn’t quite.

“How do you do, Ms. Lewis? Do you work with my papa?”

Kate smiled in return. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, McKensy. And yes, I do work with him. Please, call me Kate.”

“May I, Papa?”

What an endearing child, Kate thought, returning McKensy’s megawatt smile. And such beautiful manners.

“Yes, of course you may. Kate’s just said it’s okay.”

“Goody.” She clapped her hands. “I love it when grown-ups let me call them by their first name. It makes them more intimate.”

Tony rolled his eyes and Kate laughed. “I think you’re right,” she agreed. “It certainly makes it easier to get to know one another.”

“That’s what I think.” McKensy nodded enthusiastic assent.

“Which school do you go to, McKensy?” Kate was enchanted by the little girl.

“St. Regis Academy. It’s so-o-oo fun.”

“I’ll bet it is.” It was known as one of the best private schools in the city. Kate had tried to convince Scott that Eliza should go there, but he’d balked at the cost, even though Kate had offered to pay half.

“Do you have any kids, Kate?” McKensy was perched on the side of Tony’s bed, her gray eyes taking in every detail of the room.

“A stepdaughter, Eliza. She’ll be nine next month.”

“I was nine in April, we’re nearly the same age. Which school does Eliza go to?”

“Collingwood.”

“I think that’s the school right across the street from where I go to dance classes, isn’t it, Papa?”

Tony nodded.

“DanceCo?” Kate asked. “Eliza goes there, too. What are you studying, McKensy?”

“Ballet and tap.”

“So is she,” Kate exclaimed. “She just moved up into Madame Bloor’s class for the last couple of weeks.”

“I take that class,” McKensy squealed, her eyes huge. “There’re two Elizas in my class. Does yours have brown braids or blond, sticky-up points?”