One Sure Thing (Mamma Lou Matchmaker Series) (27 page)

Hope used two fingers to slowly massage her temples then she cradled her head in the palm of her hand and leaned back down on the counter. “I definitely intend to.”

Maxine looked at her again. A concerned expression covered her face. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Hope said as she reached over to pluck a patient’s chart from the carousel. She opened the chart and scanned the first page for effect.

“All right, if I don’t see you before you leave. Have a good one.”

Hope nodded as Maxine walked away. As soon as Maxine disappeared into a patient’s room, Hope slid the chart back in its sleeve. She was in no mood to play twenty questions. She looked around the station. She was in overlap shift so her presence in ER was merely a formality since her relief had already been on shift for an hour and a half.

Hope looked at her watch. She had just thirty minutes left in her shift. She breathed a sigh of frustration that she still had another half hour left. Thanks to Hugh, it had been a long time since she’d been given several consecutive days off. And she intended to take full advantage of it.

She intended to sleep for at least twenty-four hours straight. Then she’d probably grab a bite to eat. Afterwards she’d take a nice long nap for ten to twelve hours. Then after that, she’d really get into some serious rest and relaxation.

A satisfied smile eased its way across her lips. She got light-headed just thinking about it. She was looking forward to five whole days of nothing but sleeping, eating and more sleep. She could seriously get used to that.

She had intended on spending some time with Faith, but ever since the night of the fundraiser Faith and Dennis had been inseparable. They were practically joined at the hip. Dennis even arranged his schedule so that he could spend time volunteering in the pediatric ward.

Hope checked her watch. Unfortunately, getting herself psyched for the last thirty minutes was close to impossible. The ER was unusually slow and she was stuck filling out paperwork and jotting down notes for the doctors on the next shift.

The tedious paperwork that had to be completed before the end of a shift always made her crazy. It was during those times that her mind wandered. And of late, it wandered more and more to thoughts of a certain plastic surgeon.

Hope frowned. She hadn’t heard from Raymond in three days. Maybe Hugh was right. Maybe this thing between them was just a distraction for him while his grandmother was ill. Louise had been discharged and there was no real reason for him to see her again.

Still, she enjoyed being with him. And the way he looked at her made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

Blushing, she often remembered how many times she focused on his hands. Strong, tender, and talented, they were the hands of a healer. Suddenly Hope’s thoughts wavered to a place she’d long avoided. She knew first hand just how talented his hands actually were.

“That must be some kind of daydream.”

“What?” She asked barely audible.

“Girl, you need to take the look off your face before you get yourself in man trouble.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh, I bet you don’t.” With that Maxine continued walking to the nurses’ station. “Did you get your page?”

Before she had the opportunity to respond she was paged again. She quickly grabbed the nearest phone and dialed the central number. She listened to the recorded message, jotted down the phone number then hung up. She looked at the unfamiliar number again. Who in the world would be calling her from California? Tagged as urgent, she got an outside line and dialed the number. She didn’t recognize the area code but dialed the number anyway. Within seconds a familiar voice answered.

“Dr. Adams? Hope?”

“Yes, speaking.” She paused half recognizing the voice. “Mrs. Gates?”

“Yes dear and please call me Mamma Lou.

“What can I do for you?

“I understand that the fundraiser was a huge success.”

“Yes, it was.”

“Did you have a good time?”

“Yes, I did.” Hope frowned not sure where the conversation was going.

“I’m truly sorry I wasn’t able to attend, but I heard all about it.

“Well, maybe you’ll be well enough to attend next year’s fundraiser.”

“I’m sure I will.” Then without missing a beat she continued, “The reason I called Hope is that I need a favor. I need your medical assistance. I’m afraid I’m quite desperate and you’re the only one I can turn to.”

Concern instantly gripped her. “Are you okay? Are you having chest pains again?”

“No. nothing like that dear.

“Is it Mr. Wheeler? Or his friend, Mr. Grant?”

“Oh no dear. We’re all fine. What I need is a favor of a very personal nature.”

Oh boy,
Hope thought to herself.
Here we go.

“What I need-” Louise continued, -is to have someone with medical experience make a house call.”

“A house call?”

“Yes.”

“Mrs. Gates,” she began but was cut off.

“Mamma Lou,” Louise reminded her more firmly.

Realizing she had little choice, Hope relented momentarily. “Mamma Lou, no one makes house calls any more. Whatever the problem is, just go to see your primary care physician.”

“Oh, it’s not me dear. It’s my grandson.”

Hope’s heart lurched. “Raymond?”

“Yes. I’m afraid he’s terribly sick.”

“Where is he?”

“At his apartment.”

“Where is his apartment?”

“In New York.”

“No, I mean where exactly?”

“Oh, the Upper West Side. He’s been laid up for the past three days. I’m afraid he’s not doing very well at all and I’m unable to get there for another few days. You see I’m on the West Coast visiting my son.”

“Mrs. Gates-”

“Mamma Lou,” Louise corrected her.

“- Mamma Lou, if he’s that sick, you need to have an ambulance take him to the nearest hospital.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

“Why not?”

“He wouldn’t go. You see, he’s quite stubborn.”

“No kidding,” Hope said louder that she intended.
Tell me something I don’t know
.

“Obviously you’re familiar with my grandson’s temperament.”

“You could say that.”

“Then you’ll help him?”

“Exactly what’s wrong with him?”

“Poor dear, I’m afraid he has the flu or a twenty-four hour bug or something.”

“The flu this time of year is rare, but I’m sure he’s had his flu shot so just give him a few days. If it’s a virus that too will pass. He’ll be as good as new in no time.”

“Well that’s not the only problem. He’s all alone in the apartment without a single thing to eat.”

“What do you mean without anything to eat?”

“Exactly that. Raymond always eats out. As a matter of fact, I don’t even think his apartment has any pots and pans. I’ve already spoken to his doorman and he’ll let you in with no problem.”

“Mrs. Gates, I didn’t say that I’d do it.”

“You’re a healer dear. It’s in your nature. You couldn’t allow anyone to lie suffering anymore that I could let a begonia go without water. Healing is part of you and there’s no way around it.”

“Mrs. Gates,” she sighed heavily, “Mamma Lou-”

“The doorman’s name is Jimmy. He’s expecting you. He’ll be on duty until midnight so take your time. You might want to stop home and pack a few things. No telling how long that nasty flu bug will last.”

Realizing that saying no to Louise Gates was not an option, Hope surrendered. “Okay Mrs. Gates, I’ll stop by when I get off work. But that’s it. If Raymond needs serious medical attention I’ll make sure he gets to Manhattan Medical and have them contact you.”

Louise smiled happily. “Whatever you see fit to do dear. I trust your judgment.” She gave Hope the address. “Thank you dear. Good-bye.”

Hope hung up the telephone and looked at it as if it were from outer space. “What just happened?” She asked aloud as she folded the paper and put it into her jeans pocket.

Hope arrived at Raymond’s upper west side apartment ninety minutes later. She looked up at the very recognizable building. Somehow she wasn’t surprised that it was one of the most renowned apartment buildings in New York City.

Jimmy, the doorman, escorted Hope to Raymond’s apartment and handed her a sealed envelope. “Mrs. Gates said that I should give you this. It’s the office key to the elevator and Doc Gate’s apartment. She said that you already had the security code.”

“Yes I do Jimmy, thank you.” Hope took the envelope and turned it over reading her name neatly printed on the front. “Excuse me, Jimmy, when exactly did you speak with Mrs. Gates?”

“She called early this afternoon and told me to have the keys ready for you to pick up.”

“Mrs. Gates called you early
this
afternoon?”

“Yes, just after noon. She said that if you need anything, I should help you out. So, you need anything just call me. I’m on the intercom.”

Hope nodded her head knowingly. She’d lived in New York City too long not to know when she was being played. And this set-up reeked of a scam. She opened her purse to reach for her wallet. She pulled a large bill out and offered it. “Thank you, Jimmy, I appreciate your help.”

“Nah, don’t worry about that. Doc and his grandmother always take care of me and my family,” he said as his head bobbed up and down. He tipped his hat to her and stepped back into the waiting elevator. “Don’t forget, use the intercom if you need anything. The number should be by the kitchen phone. I’ll be here ‘til midnight.”

The doors closed leaving Hope standing in the posh hallway staring at her reflection in the polished brass chrome of the elevator doors. She stood there a second, her medical backpack slung over one shoulder, she finally looked around. The lavish open corridor, larger than her living room and dining room put together, was complete with ornate mirror, decorative wall prints, two high-back chairs and a beautiful silk floral display. It was breathtaking, torn right out of the pages of some opulent interior design magazine layout. “What am I doing here?” She wondered aloud t the empty space.

She walked over to the gilded mirror and looked at herself closely. Her starched white cotton shirt was buttoned to the top and tucked neatly into her blue jeans.  She looked down at her white sneakers. Ideally, dressed as she was, she looked more like a college student then a thirty something professional.

The only give away to her true age was in her face. What little makeup she had used ha long since vanished, her tired eyes betrayed a long hard day. She fluffed at her curls and subconsciously ran her fingers over the scar.
“What am I doing here?”
She questioned again as she opened the sealed envelope and dropped the key ring into her hand.

She gathered up the short chain and eyed the cast metal several times before tilting her head in wonder,
“what are you up to Louise Gates?”
Her inner voice, naturally suspicious, sang out loud and clear. There was something else going on, she was sure of it. Louise Gates had an agenda. The question was, how and why did she fit into it?