On Opposite Sides Page 3

  She should refuse. He was administration. The other union officers might accuse her of selling out, but for some reason she didn’t understand, she wanted to see him again.

  “Friday, then.”

  “Friends.” He stopped at the mailboxes.

  “Friends,” she repeated. “You know, I have a feeling I know you.”

  As she ran down to the basement laundry room, her sandals clicked on the stairs. Friends? She stopped short. Friendship she could handle, but what could she do about the currents gathered beneath the surface of the morning’s encounter?

  *****

  Long after Jenessa vanished, Eric stood in the sunlit lobby. Was he certifiable? Had he forgotten the games Gail had played and how she’d used him to gather information? From her, he’d learned that mixing business with pleasure ended in pain. After that fiasco, he’d kept his relationships with women skimming the surface like stones skipped across a pond.

  Now a week after meeting Jenessa, he’d shanghaied her. He groaned. She could prove more dangerous to his career and his emotions than ten Gails.

  He crossed the lobby and paused at the top of the stairs. The potential for more than friendship built like the humidity.

  On the third step, he paused. “I have a feeling I know you.” She’d presented him with an opportunity for a confession that would drive her away.

  Why hadn’t he told her he’d been the ICU supervisor at Claremont Hospital the day her husband had died? Or that he’d been the first person to respond to the Code? And that he’d been responsible for the staffing that day?

  He couldn’t understand why he felt guilty now. He certainly hadn’t felt this way before. His decision had been the right one, but since meeting Jenessa Robertson, he’d begun to question his judgment.

  As the answers to his questions emerged, he gripped the railing. He hadn’t told her because he liked her courage, admired her willingness to fight for her co-workers and wanted her friendship. Determined to tell her about their previous encounter, he headed to the laundry room. She wasn’t there.

  *****

  On Wednesday morning, Eric paused outside Sandra’s office. This morning, he planned to visit several of the nursing units. Though he preferred to go alone, courtesy demanded he invite his second-in-command to join him.

  “Just one minute.” Sandra’s voice, harsh with anger, carried into the hall. “What do you mean you have another plan? I was given a year and I want every minute of it.”

  Who was she talking to? He wished he knew more about her background, but when he’d pulled the administrative files, hers had been missing.

  “You want results. You’ll get them.” She strode toward the window until the cord was stretched to its limit. “We’re on schedule.”

  Eric walked away. He would talk to her later. He headed to the elevators. Jenessa was on duty. Impatient to see her, he increased the length of his stride.

  A short time later, he paused at the L-shaped desk in ICU. Jenessa exited one of the cubicles and entered the next one. Though he’d planned to speak to the nurse manager first, all thought of protocol vanished. He crossed the hall.

  “Mr. LaPonte, I’m back.” The patient’s words were garbled. Jenessa took his hand. “Slowly. Think of each word before you form it. Tomorrow, I’ll bring a word board and a pointer. Let’s exercise.”

  As Eric watched her interact with the patient, his admiration grew. She praised each of the man’s small successes.

  Finally, she pulled up the side rail. “Let me find someone to help while I make your bed.”

  “Will I do?” Eric asked.

  She turned. Mischief sparkled in her blue eyes. “I didn’t think DON’s remembered how to work.”

  “This one does. Until last year, I worked one weekend a month as a per diem.”

  “I’m impressed.” Jenessa patted the elderly man’s hand. “You’re in for a treat. The boss is pitching in.”

  Ten minutes later, she finished tucking in the sheets. She stopped to wash her hands and to jot a few notes on a flow sheet. “Thanks.”

  He responded to her smile. “My pleasure.”

  She paused in the doorway and waved to the patient. “See you in an hour.” She turned to Eric. “What brings you to ICU?”

  “Rounds.”

  “Without an entourage? Sandra drags the supervisors and nurse managers with her.”

  The sarcastic tone of her voice made him glad Sandra had been busy. “I see more this way. I’m impressed with your exercise cycle. Part of your Master’s thesis?”

  “You’ve got it.”

  “Do you have time for coffee?”

  “Jen, could you give me a hand?” The call came from the next room.

  “There’s your answer. See you.”

  “Friday at eight thirty.” He hadn’t planned to make an announcement, but his words had emerged in a near shout. The brassy blonde Sandra had introduced him to at the picnic rose from a chair at the desk. Her sly smile promised he and Jenessa would be featured in the latest round of gossip to sweep through the hospital. He shrugged. Then, wondering why he didn’t care who knew he was seeing Jenessa, he headed for the nurse manager’s office.

  *****

  On Friday evening, Jenessa dashed into the apartment fifteen minutes later than she’d planned. Instead of counting the number of tranquilizers, sedatives and narcotics in the cabinet, the night nurse had been intent on gossip. Her story, a greatly embellished version of the one Jenessa had heard at the picnic, stated that a member of the administration had an inside line with the company seeking to purchase the hospital.

  The woman had speculated about Eric. Where had he worked before coming to Eastlake? Who besides Sam Gray did he know? How had he beaten out Sandra for the job?

  Jenessa frowned. She didn’t know the answer and she refused to believe the rumors.

  The apartment door slammed behind her. She dropped her purse on the couch and unbuttoned the stained and rumpled uniform that had been pristine that morning. As she sprinted for the bathroom, she heard Megan singing. Her roommate stood in front of the mirror making minor adjustments in her make-up.

  “Are you going to be long?” Jenessa asked.

  “Why?” Megan asked.

  “I have a date at eight thirty.”

  Megan raised an eyebrow. “Anyone I know?”

  “Eric,” Jenessa mumbled. She hadn’t told her roommate about the encounter in the laundry room or about coffee at Frank’s Place because she hadn’t wanted to face one of Megan’s interrogations. Jenessa entered her bedroom, opened the closet and took out an aqua jumpsuit.

  Thirty seconds later, Megan appeared at the door. “Is this the Eric, otherwise known as the enemy? The bathroom’s yours. Why don’t the two of you join Josh and me at the Cove?”

  “We have other plans.” Jenessa slid past Megan and closed the bathroom door. Her roommate’s prediction rang in her thoughts. “An opposition can be exciting. He’s perfect for you.”

  So why were her emotions coiled like the spring in a Jack in the Box? Any discussion with Megan would pop the lid. Jenessa knew if she let an inkling of her confusion escape, she wouldn’t have a moment’s peace. She soaped, rinsed and toweled dry.

  The doorbell rang. Not Eric, she prayed. Now while Megan was still home.

  Megan charged down the hall. “Have a good time. I knew this would happen.” A second ring punctuated the end of her sentence. “Josh, I’m coming.”

  Jenessa faced the mirror and practiced deep breathing. Slowly, her back muscles released their grip on her spine. Then, realizing she was hungry, she ran to the kitchen for a container of yogurt. When the doorbell rang, she swallowed the last spoonful and carried the container to the door.

  Eric nodded. “Just a snack? We could hit the buffet at the Cove.”

  She thought of Megan’s relentless curiosity and shook her head. “I’ve been craving buttered popcorn all day.” She dropped the yogurt container in the garbage and returned to the livin
g room for her purse.

  “Then that’s what you’ll get.” He held the door for her. “Glad you got off on time. I knew your unit had a sick call for tonight and I was afraid you’d be tapped for overtime.”

  “I’m on tomorrow and Sunday. Even Sandra wouldn’t have the nerve to ask.” She entered the elevator. “So when do contract talks begin?”

  “The Board hasn’t addressed the issue.”

  “We won’t accept that.”

  “You’ll have to.”

  During the drive to the movie theater, they talked about music, food and books. Jenessa slipped in questions about his previous jobs. His deft evasions stirred her suspicions. Why was he being so secretive? She didn’t want to believe he was part of a plot.

  Somewhere between the ticket booth and their seats, the last shred of ease vanished. Why had she agreed to this sedentary activity? Bowling would have been a better choice. The physical activity would have kept her awareness of him from racing like a heart out of control.

  She clutched a tub of buttered popcorn. He held a box of plain. She sat on the far side of her seat and he pressed against the right arm of his. As she watched scenes from the coming attractions, tension gathered like a developing storm.

  The feature, a comedy, began. While trying to find a comfortable position, she shifted in her seat. He moved in an equally restless dance. Because she didn’t want to put her arm on the armrest they shared, she dug into the popcorn. His hand moved to his mouth with the same regularity as hers.

  The slapsticks of the hero bordered on absurdity. She laughed. His deeper voice echoed hers. Soon their blended laughter vanquished her stiff self-consciousness. His elbow rested on the shared armrest. She wiped butter from her hands.

  Dumb, she thought as her fingers twined with his. Even though she sensed the danger of the action, she didn’t move away. Friends? As a soothing warmth enclosed her, her breath halted. What was she going to do? A friend didn’t hold hands and wish for more. How long could this union of opposites last?

  When the feature ended and the lights came on, she stared at the blank screen. His hand moved away and he rose. She followed him up the aisle and outside. A few fat drops of rain fell on the sidewalk.

  “I’ll get the car,” he said.

  “Let’s race. If this means cooler weather, I’ll gladly get soaked.”

  He reached the dark blue sedan and opened the passenger’s door. “I guess you’re too wet to stop at Frank’s for dessert.” He slid behind the wheel.

  She laughed. “I’m never too anything to miss dessert.”

  *****

  An hour later, Jenessa stood with her back against the apartment door. Eric rested one hand on the wall and stared down at her. She focused her gaze on his chin. He stood close, but not near enough to invade her space, though the pine scent of his aftershave did.

  She looked up. His gaze held temptation. A wish to touch his lips with her fingertips grew, but she knew any movement on her part would destroy the sense of ease she felt.

  “What are you doing over Labor Day weekend?” he asked.

  “Heading to my family’s cottage on Shadow Lake. We go up every year with a group of friends. It’s a tradition. Why?”

  “I thought -- Never mind.”

  She could ask him to come along. Friends were always welcome, but were they really friends? She hesitated.

  He lightly tapped her chin with his knuckles. “Night.”

  Before making a move she might regret, Jenessa opened the door. “See you.”

  Inside the apartment, she leaned against the door and fought a blaze of desire. Flame-like fantasies danced in her thoughts. She shook her head. Physical attraction wasn’t enough. She’d fallen into that trap before.

  She walked to her room. Why him? Why now?

  *****

  Why her? Why now? Eric waited for the elevator and curbed a wish to knock on her apartment door. He’d come to Eastlake as a favor to Sam. Becoming involved with one of the nurses who might be working to undermine his career was a foolish step.

  He pressed for the elevator again. He should have told her about Claremont Hospital. That would have ended the rapport growing between them. Though he would have still felt attracted, she would have walked away. He didn’t want that to happen.

  Chapter 3

  Jenessa leaned against the counter in the break room and licked the last bite of yogurt from the spoon. She eyed the chairs at the small table against the far wall and groaned. There wasn’t time to eat a sandwich or collapse for fifteen minutes. As usual, the unit was under-staffed. She rotated her shoulders to relieve the tension caused by working four thirteen-hour shifts in five days.

  Nothing had changed. Though she’d sent memos to the Board requesting negotiations begin, there’d been no response. Nan might be right. A complaint to the Labor Board might be the only way to go. Somehow, that seemed like an admission of failure to her.

  She crushed the container and tossed it in the trash. Would Eric know anything? Maybe she -- She shook her head. She couldn’t ask him or even see him again. Their date last week had been a mistake and had filled her with yearning and grief.

  “Would Chuck want you to lead a nun’s life?” Megan had voiced a dozen variations on the theme.

  Jenessa had no idea what her husband would have wanted. There’d been no time for that kind of discussion. She had known him forever, but they had been strangers.

  With a groan, she pushed away from the counter and strode to the desk. The middle-aged unit secretary motioned. Her fingers fluttered furiously. What minor problem had baffled Mrs. Sikes? The woman’s usefulness for the crisis centered ICU bordered on zero.

  “Mrs. Robertson, Ms. Wallace just called.” The woman’s nasal voice rose to an ear-piercing pitch. “There’s been a sick call for nights. Someone has to stay until eleven. You tell them. They’ll yell at me.”

  The whine in Mrs. Sikes voice made Jenessa’s head ache. “Why doesn’t Bev handle this? It’s her job.”

  “She left at noon to take some comp time.”

  Or to avoid an unpleasant duty. Five minutes later, Jenessa assembled her co-workers at the desk. “Sick call for tonight. Someone has to stay until eleven.”

  A panicked look crossed Pam’s face. “Again? Wonder who’s using their sick time before they resign?”

  Claire twisted a strand of brassy blonde hair around her finger. “Aren’t I the lucky one? I worked ‘til eleven last night.”

  “I’m doing an extra tomorrow.” Rachel rested a plump thigh against the desk. “If they give me tomorrow off, I’ll stay.”

  Jenessa reached for the over-time book. “Let’s see who’s up.”

  “Don’t bother.” Pam’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s me. What am I going to do with my kids? My sitter refuses to stay after eight thirty and I can’t afford to lose her.”

  “I’ll stay.” The words were out before Jenessa realized she’d decided to volunteer. As a single mother, Pam should be exempt.

  “Bless you...Wait a minute. Aren’t you and Megan going to Shadow Lake after work?”

  Jenessa nodded. “No problem. If she doesn’t want to wait, she can go up with her brother.”

  “I hate this place,” Rachel said. “Guess the float pool’s signed with X-tra Hands.”

  “What’s that?” Jenessa asked.

  “Where have you been?” Claire stood with her hands on her hips. “It’s a staffing agency.”

  “They run a mini-van to the city,” Pam said. “If they had child care, I’d sign on in a minute.”

  Was the staffing agency responsible for the recent spate of resignations? Even with a decent contract, could the hospital compete? She reached for the phone and called Megan’s unit.

  “Jen, what’s up?”

  “Can you hitch a ride with Alex?”

  “Sure. Are you backing out again? You’ve got to face being there some time.”

  “I’ll be there. I’m working until eleven. Sick call.”<
br />
  “Then I’ll see you in the morning. You can help me with Johnny while my brother is golfing.”

  Jenessa laughed. “You mean run after your nephew while you work on your tan. Bring sandwiches. I’ll bring the drinks.”

  By eleven, Jenessa felt drained. As she trudged across the street, she considered waiting until morning. Inside the apartment, she tripped over her duffel. A note from Megan was pinned to the strap.

  “Packed what I thought you’d need. The beach at nine. The kid and I will be waiting. Don’t chicken out.”

  She lifted the duffel and headed for the car. Megan was right. Since the night of Chuck’s accident, she’d avoided the lake. The time to face her ghosts had come.

  In the parking lot, she tossed the duffel behind the seat of her red sports car. After sucking in a deep breath, she backed from the parking space and shot into the street.

  A half hour later, a huge yawn made her eyes water. Exhaustion swamped her. Her foot hit the gas. The needle on the speedometer swooped past seventy. The car veered toward the other lane. Her heart pounded in staccato rhythm.

  She should have waited until morning. She should have requested to work this weekend. The sixteen hour tour of duty had eroded her reserves and dissolved the barriers she’d erected against the past. She turned the radio to blaring and the air conditioner to frigid.

  The car swerved again and seemed to bump. She pulled off the road and glared at the flat right rear tire.

  What luck for this to happen on the most deserted part of the road. Even if she had a cellular phone, everyone would still be in town. Stifling a groan, she opened the trunk. Being the only girl in a family of car jocks had some benefits. She positioned the jack.

  Twenty minutes later, she arrived at the rambling cottage and pulled into a space between her brother’s cars. She wheeled the tire into the car port and carried her duffel into the house. As she entered the kitchen, she turned on the lights. She was here where the happiest moments of her life had begun and ended.