Right As Rain (Complete)

Chapter 4

Maelee

The organized chaos I call my life has placed me in some pretty extraordinary situations. It's probably not fair for me to say it all led me to this, but saving the life of an international celebrity on a restaurant patio has to be one of my most unanticipated occurrences to date. Call it fate, call it God, call it what you will; Noah crashed and I was there.

I saved him.

Based on the scant number of staff running outside to assist the incoming ambulance, I assume the emergency department is busy. I shoo away the few nurses who do arrive, and assure them I can handle it. I'm not willing to risk Noah's privacy; the fewer people who know he is here, the better.

I lead the two paramedics down the long circular hall of the emergency department. The treatment rooms, separated by half-walls and thin curtains, are mostly full. I point to the first opening I see. If all goes well, Noah will only be here long enough for me to run some tests and have him admitted to my floor. The paramedics assist Noah in moving from the gurney to the hospital bed while I pull the curtains closed to hide him from any nosey onlookers.

"Are you working today, Parker?" the younger of the two paramedics asks.

I briefly glance at my watch. It's 14:50; my shift starts in ten minutes. "I am, actually," I answer while, hooking Noah up to the necessary monitors.

Like claps of unexpected thunder, the rings securing the curtain to the ceiling slap against each other when the curtain is forced open. A jolt of anger streaks down my spine.

A short, middle-aged woman with wash worn scrubs and bottle-dyed hair stands in the opening with her hand on her hip. "Excuse me!" she says. "Who said you could be in here?"

I'm not sure what pisses me off more, the ripping open of a curtain I just closed or her imperiously brusque tone. Several staff members and patients look towards to commotion and through the open curtain. Noah fidgets with the pieces of his cut shirt, trying to hide his exposed skin as much as possible.

I snatch the paramedic's clipboard from his hand and hold it up to hide Noah's face. "I did!" I say. "Can I help you?"

The woman, whose sun damaged face makes her look older than she must actually be, shrinks away. "Dr. Parker!" she gasps. "I um...." She takes a large step back and reaches for the curtain she just opened, pulling it towards her.

I look at her, waiting for an explanation. She looks towards Noah, obviously able to see him over my clipboard, and blushes. Not willing to take the time to explain to her my choice of room, I divert her attention. "Please have Ashley paged and tell her where to find me."

The woman fumbles for an answer, settling with a "yes, ma'am," before rushing away. Noah laughs to himself and relaxes again once she is gone.

"I'm going to make this as easy as I can," I promise him, handing the paramedic his clipboard.

Noah shakes his head and chuckles. "I'm not worried," he says.

The paramedic looks on, somewhat bemused. "What department are you in?" he asks.

I reach for Noah's hand and tape the pulse ox meter to his finger. "Trauma," I answer.

"Are you an intern?" the paramedic continues. "A resident?"

Can he not?

"I'm a fellow," I say, not shifting my attention from my patient.

"A fellow?" the paramedic repeats. His surprised reaction isn't unexpected. Generally, people are shocked to learn I'm a fellow, especially in trauma. My age, stature, and unfortunately, my sex, isn't exactly typical of a physician in my specialty.