Authors: Bonnie Blythe
***
After several days in orientation, Meredith’s first official day in the Peds unit went smoothly. She had four patients, ages six to ten—two recovering from tonsillectomies and two from myringotomy surgery—tubes in their ears.
From working with adults for so long, Meredith assumed the children would be whinier and more demanding than her older patients. Instead, at least in these instances, the kids were tough, bearing their discomfort with a minimum of fuss. She enjoyed talking with them and their parents. It made her a little wistful about having kids of her own someday.
Of course, one needed a man for that. Technology aside, a conventional girl like herself needed to get married. So where was the future father of her children? Maybe she should consider placing a personal ad. Shy, passably pleasing twenty-something wants kids in exchange for fifty or so years of marriage. Meredith smiled to herself. That would bring them in droves. Oh, yeah.
When she got home that afternoon, she pulled the scrunchie from her hair, stretched it in her fingers, and snapped it across the room. It landed on the kitchen counter, next to the answering machine. The little red light was blinking.
Meredith walked over and hit the button, only mildly interested in who might be calling. As the machine clicked and whirred, she bent down and picked up Bitsy.
“Merrie, it’s David. Give me a call when you get this message.”
Setting her dog on the floor, she found a pencil and played the message again to get the number. Resting her elbows on the counter, she wondered what David might want. Drat that Rosa for giving him her phone number.
She glanced at the clock. It was nearly five. If he was working today, she wouldn’t be able to talk to him so close to the broadcast. Well, there was one way to find out. First things first. She headed for the shower. Meredith tripped over the dog, who’d been rolling over and playing dead.
“Not now, Bitsy!”
Fifteen minutes later, Meredith emerged from her steaming bathroom in her robe. She flung herself sideways onto the bed and used the remote to turn on the TV set. The weather came on with Meteorologist Stan Peterson predicting cooler temperatures and rain. After a commercial break, the news came back on. Suddenly, David was there, smiling and telling about the latest injuries of a player on the Oakland Raiders football team.
Meredith didn’t hear a word of it. She gazed at the screen, knowing she had a fatuous expression on her face, and unable to do a thing about it.
Will I ever get over David? Or will I always be admiring him from afar?
When his segment ended, she rolled over and closed her eyes.
Help, God. I’m embarrassing myself. And maybe You, too. I need to get a life...without David Steller.
When she opened her eyes, the phone rang. Meredith reached over to her nightstand and picked up the phone. Her eyes bugged out of her head when she heard the voice on the other end.
“David! What are you doing! Weren’t you just on TV?”
“So, you watched? You’re my best fan, Merrie.”
Meredith blew out an impatient breath, forcing a more formal note into her voice. “What can I do for you?”
“Did you see the story about the blood shortage?”
“No, I turned on the TV just before your segment started—” Meredith stared up at the ceiling in disbelief and wanted to bite her tongue.
Do I have to sound so obvious?
“Well, I’m flattered. Anyway, I only have a minute. The station is having a blood drive next Saturday.”
“Really.” Meredith wondered if he knew she was a volunteer with the Red Cross. Holding the cordless phone to her ear, she got up and went to the kitchen to look at her schedule of blood collections. She usually just glanced at it the day or so before to find out where the drive was to be located. There it was in black and white. KVL building, nine A.M. Saturday.
“Would you be available to help with the blood drive at KVL? You know, be one of the vampires, er, nurses that draw blood?”
Meredith smiled wryly. “Sure, I can be there.”
“Just like that? You can just show up and start sticking needles into people’s arms? I went ahead and got the number for you to call and volunteer.”
“I already am a volunteer, David.”
“You’re kidding! That’s great!” He paused. “And here’s an added bonus. Since the employees at KVL will be donating blood, it’ll be taped for airing on the evening news. You’ll get to be on TV. Your big show biz break.”
“You forget, I’ve already been on TV. Without consent.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.”
He didn’t sound at all repentant. Meredith bit back a smile.
“Um, just think about all the exposure you’re getting. Soon you’ll be a celebrity.”
She laughed. “Like you?”
“That hurts, Merrie.”
She smiled at the teasing in his voice. “I’ll be there.”
“Just think about your chance to stab me in the arm with something really sharp. It could be therapeutic for you.”
“There’s no guarantee I’ll get you, you know. There will be several other nurses there.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t deprive you a chance at causing me some pain. See you Saturday.”
Meredith smiled as she hung up the phone. Was this just another coincidence or could God have a hand in the way their lives continued to intersect? She drummed her fingers on the kitchen counter. Nah. This was just David, being friendly and gregarious as usual. She might as well enjoy it while it lasted.
Besides, he could use a good poke in the arm.
***
David entered the station cafeteria area, which had been rearranged to accommodate the Red Cross equipment. He spotted Meredith over by one of the cots, setting up her area and checking her supplies. He went over and plopped onto the cot next to her.
“Good morning, Merrie. I’m ready for you. Did lots of extra push-ups this morning to get those veins to stand out.” He shoved up his shirtsleeve and flexed his muscles for her, showing her the network of bulging veins in his tanned arm. “Impressed?”
Meredith peered at his arm, a placid expression on her face. “They might do. If it doesn’t work out, don’t worry. We’ll give you a nice sticker to wear that says ‘I tried’.”
He grinned when he saw the twitch of her lips. “No sticker for me today, unless it says something like ‘They hit a gusher and I broke a record’.”
“Just a pint or so,” she said. “But first you’ll need to go through registration and the health check to see if you’re even eligible to donate today.”
“Huh?” David’s face fell as he looked to where she pointed at some tables across the room. Several of his co-workers were already in line. “Oh, of course. I’ll see you in a few.” He leaned over. “By the way, that soup I brought over must’ve worked wonders for your cold. You are looking very pretty today.”
Meredith blushed. “Does that mean you’re saying I didn’t look so good the other day?”
David made a face but quickly recovered. “My point is that you look to be in excellent health.”
“Well, I do want to thank you for the soup and flowers. I’m sure they were responsible for my improvement. You better get in line.”
David saluted her and did as he was bid. After giving his name and other information to a woman at the first desk, he moved on to the second. He was asked several health-related questions that made him look askance at the interviewer. There was nothing quite like having a sweet, blue-haired grandma calmly ask about sexual relationships. Yikes! From there, he had his blood pressure and temperature checked. Next, the lady pricked his finger.
“Ow!” he said through clenched teeth.
The lady gave him a broad smile and squeezed his finger. When she checked his iron, he failed the test.
“What!” David’s plan of talking to Meredith without the chance for her to leave was going up in smoke.
“We’ll check it in the hematocrit,” the lady soothed. Finally fifteen minutes later, while he fidgeted and tapped his foot, his iron level was pronounced acceptable—barely. He joined the line to give blood and found to his dismay that Meredith was busy with another donor, which was his producer. One of the other nurses waved him over.
David felt himself turn red. What could he say without sounding rude? Meredith came to his rescue.
“That one’s mine, Amy.”
The other nurse shrugged and waved over the next person in line. David saw Meredith fix him with an unwavering gaze. He resisted the urge to shudder.
Maybe she really does have it in for me
.
While he waited for her to finish, his co-workers edged past him to donate, ribbing him about being a chicken.
“What’s the matter, Steller, still trying to get your nerve up?”
“You aren’t going to faint, are you Steller?”
“Ha ha, very funny,” he said in a humorless voice. At length, his producer rose up from the cot and was escorted to the canteen for juice and cookies.
David hurried to Meredith’s cot. He sat down and leaned back. “Alone at last,” he said, kicking up his feet.
Meredith didn’t say anything. She just gave him a Mona Lisa smile while she stripped the gloves from her hands. He rolled up his sleeve and submitted his arm to her care.
“Let’s have a look at those veins now.” She took a piece of rubber and tied it around his bicep with a half-loop, and handed him what felt like a balloon filled with sand. “Squeeze, please.”
David watched her face unabashedly while she worked. Her expression was composed, though he thought he detected a glimmer of humor in her periwinkle eyes. With her finger, she pressed lightly on the largest vein in the center of the inside of his arm and seemed satisfied by what she saw.
“Nice median cubital, Mr. Steller.”
“I aim to please. I think.”
Ah, that got a smile. She put on a fresh pair of gloves and cleaned the site on his arm with Betadine and a swab. David swallowed when she opened a packet, producing a sterile needle.
“Man, that thing’s huge!” He eyed what looked to him like a sharp, steel harpoon.
“Are you doing all right, David? You look a little pale.”
Never taking his eyes from the needle, he swallowed. “I’m fine!”
“Maybe you’d be more comfortable if I explained the procedure.” Without waiting for his consent, she continued. “I’m re-palpitating the vein. Next, I’m stabilizing the vein by holding it between my index finger and thumb.”
David licked his lips and glanced at her. Meredith had a decidedly wicked gleam in her eyes.
“Squeeze the ball a few times. Good. Now I’m entering the site, with the needle bevel up, directly above the median cubital and in the same direction at a fifteen-degree angle relative to your skin. There, we have a smooth entry.” She looked at David’s face. “That didn’t hurt, did it?” she asked in a sugary voice.
David blew out a ragged breath. “Just like a mosquito bite. A big hairy gorilla mosquito!”
Watching the flow of blood into the unit bag, she grinned. “A big, strong man like yourself? I bet you barely felt a thing.” After a moment, she released the tourniquet and took the ball from his hand. Massaging the unit bag, she cocked her head. “Just think, this one unit of blood has the potential to save up to three people’s lives. It can be used whole or broken down into components of red blood cells, plasma, platelets, and factor concentrates.”
“Oh, goody.”
Meredith gave a soft laugh. “You’re doing great, David.”
David averted his eyes from the warm, red plastic tube looped over his arm. “I can just imagine what it would be like being married to you. I come home early from work and find something from the hospital lab sitting on the dining room table. You say brightly, ‘Look, honey! We’re having a science lesson!’ And I say, ‘That’s wonderful. Where will we eat dinner?’”
She lowered her gaze. David studied her face, wishing he could read her mind. He was curious what she thought about him in regard to marriage—even if it was just in a joking manner.
Meredith leaned over. “Let me check to make sure that vein is stabilized.” She gave the needle a light tap. The pain it caused was anything but slight.
Well, I have my answer
.
“Did that hurt? I’m so sorry.” She gave him a patently false smile and rechecked the unit bag. “Almost done!”
David wracked his brain for something else to say. He had imagined having a good ten or fifteen minutes to flirt with her and thaw her out with his witty banter. So far all he’d done was look like a wimp and tick her off.
Meredith took a gauze pad and put it over the needle. Then she withdrew the needle. “Hold here, please.” She placed his other hand over the gauze and pushed his arm up into the air before disposing of the needle. After stripping the blood in the tube into the bag, she capped it off and handed it to a waiting volunteer. She reached up and pulled down his arm, checking under the gauze to make sure the bleeding had stopped. Replacing the old gauze with a fresh one, she taped it securely in place.
“That might hurt a little when you take it off.”