Worth the Reward

CHAPTER 2

Anne Dodds had been working as a nurse in the Emergency Department for nearly twenty-five years. In that time, I'd seen a lot of different things when coming to visit. Things that had a way of embedding themselves into the deepest corners of your memory.

I distinctly remembered one Fourth of July several years back, seeing a teenager come barreling through the doors, all the fingers of one hand blown off in a mess of blood and charred flesh. Mom had come home later that night to explain to her three boys that fireworks were not toys to be played with. And we'd shared a mischievous look when she'd turned away, thinking of the secret stash of bottle rockets and roman candles in a box in the shed out back.

Even with a slideshow of traumatizing mental images of cuts and burns and broken bones, I'd never felt as unsettled here as I did now.

It seemed the waiting room had become an extension of the department itself, oozing patients into its lobby like puss from a wound. There wasn't a single open chair, barely even a clear path to the front desk. People sat wherever they could find a space, coughing and sneezing and sniffling.

The room smelled sick. It smelled contagious.

Suddenly the door leading to the patient rooms swung open and my mom came hurrying into the lobby with a tray of needles and small vials. I watched her scurry about, drawing blood and I couldn't help but notice how exhausted she looked. Hair falling out of the small bun at the nape of her neck, scrubs dirty and wrinkled, glasses smudged with what was most likely blood. But as she took the tray of blood samples to the woman at the front desk, her tired eyes met mine and she rushed over to me.

"Hi, baby," she said a little nervously, pulling me away from the chaos. "What are you doing here?"

Usually I'd shuffle uncomfortably from one foot to the other while asking her to please not call me "baby" while I was in uniform –or ever for that matter- but today I got right to the point.

"What's going on here?"

"Did you have a nice trip? Was the drive back okay? How were the roads? Did you have any trouble on your way?"

"It was fine. It was all fine, Mom," I told her as we rounded a corner and finally found some privacy. "I was worried. I couldn't get a hold of you. I tried your cell."

"Oh, honey. It's dead." She pulled it from her scrubs pocket, flashing the black screen. "I'm working an impromptu double today. Forgot my charger at home."

"Oh. Want me to go grab it for you?"

"No, that's okay." She slipped the phone back into her pocket then rubbed a hand against my arm. "You really shouldn't be in here. It's a little hectic."

"I can see that," I agreed, glancing back toward the lobby. "I heard you're not taking any more patients?"

She smiled regretfully. "Not since yesterday evening. I wish there was something I could do, but we're at full capacity."

"Just keep doing what you're doing," I told her with a grin. "I just wanted to check on you. You sure everything's okay here?"

"Of course, dear. Just up to my eyeballs in blood work."

"Okay."

"Oh, can you pick up Luke today? I don't think I'm going to make it out of here until after six probably."

"Sure. Just take him straight home?"

"You'd better." She grimaced and rolled her eyes. "You know how your father is."

I felt my jaw clench. "Yeah."

She patted my cheek, her face the epitome of sympathy. There were so many unsaid words behind her eyes. I could see everything. I knew she was unhappy with Dad, I knew how much it hurt her to see how hard he was on her boys. Sometimes I wished she'd just leave him, maybe she'd be happier that way. But she was afraid. I could see that she was afraid. It wasn't fear of him exactly, it was more a fear of starting over, or maybe a fear of his resentment. Either way, it was just easier for her to stay.