Love's Healing Touch
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He took a gulp of coffee.
“Do you have any college hours?” The question sounded rude. She really needed to work on her delivery.
He paused before nodding, again not meeting her eyes.
She was stymied. He clearly wasn’t going to give her any more information than he had to, and he didn’t have to give her any. “I know I have no right to ask you, but I’d really appreciate it if you’d answer a question or two.” After a pause when the orderly didn’t say a word, she added, “Please.”
When he raised an eyebrow but didn’t say no, she asked, “How many college hours?”
“I have a degree.” He drank the rest of his coffee, placed the cup on the table and pushed the chair back.
“Please don’t go.” She put her hand on his.
The touch was not the friendly pat she’d intended. As she pulled her hand away, she glanced up to gauge his reaction. His eyes held a spark of interest before he looked down at his empty cup. The man had gorgeous brown eyes, a slight stubble on his cheeks and a square chin. A pleasant glow spread through her. Obviously, more was involved in her feelings for Fuller than mentor for student. Why hadn’t she noticed that before she asked him to meet her for coffee?
“Dr. Ram'irez, I prefer not to continue this discussion.” His words were polite but, when he stood, he glared at her, as much of a glare as an orderly dared give a doctor. She couldn’t blame him.
“I’m sorry, Fuller. I don’t mean to make you feel uneasy.” She forced her attitude back to the purely professional. “I don’t have a gift for subtlety, and I know I don’t have the right to expect you to sit down and talk to me, but I’d really be grateful if you would.”
At least he didn’t bolt for the door. Instead, he pulled his chair back to the table, sat and asked in a voice that showed more than a little exasperation, “Why?”
“Fuller, I’m impressed with you.”
She tapped on her cup. When she looked into his eyes, he immediately lowered them. “You are intelligent and have so much ability. I’d like to encourage you to go back to school, to pursue a career in medicine or science.”
“Thank you.” He fiddled with the handle of the cup.
A lot of playing with their cups, Ana noted. Obviously neither of them felt comfortable with the exchange.
“Have you thought about being a doctor?” she asked bluntly in an effort to hurry the conversation along.
“Tried med school. One year. Didn’t work out.”
“It didn’t work out?” she repeated.
Ignoring her question, he said, “Thank you for the coffee, Dr. Ram'irez,” placing great emphasis on doctor.
“You’re welcome.”
This time he did bolt for the door.
The conversation had not gone the way she’d planned it. She’d acted pushy and nosy. She’d sounded like a superior expecting the orderly to comply with whatever she demanded.
Obviously he had no desire to discuss this or anything with her. Why should he? He seemed like a very private person, just like her father.
No matter. She wasn’t about to give up on Fuller. He should be a doctor or a nurse or a medical technician, not an orderly, and she was going to help him see that.
As her mother had said, Ana always had to have a project. Fuller seemed to be her latest one.
She’d find out what he meant by, “Didn’t work out,” another time.
Mike strode back to the E.R. to finish his shift.
What right did the woman have to interrogate him? To expect him to sit there while she dug for personal information? Why hadn’t he left earlier?
He threw a swinging door open with one hand and watched it hit the wall with a satisfying smack. But when he got to the E.R., an RN shouted, “Fuller, transfer.”
He didn’t have time to think about Dr. Ram'irez’s prying now. Maybe he should remember the other parts, the good parts: he’d had coffee with a beautiful woman and all the male staff was jealous. In addition, Dr. Ram'irez had complimented him on his intelligence and how well he was doing. After the recent problems in his life, it made him feel a lot better.
Only two hours later, Mike was asleep at home when the phone rang. He pulled himself out of bed and dragged his tired body into the living room. Light filtered through curtains, which made it possible for him to find the phone on the coffee table but not before he narrowly avoided falling over a box of clothes.
“Good morning,” Francie said. “Will you please drive me to church this morning? Wake your brother up and bring him, too.”
Mike glanced at his watch through eyes still blurry with sleep. He groaned. “I’ve only been asleep for an hour. Why don’t you let me sleep a few more?”
“Because church will be over by then. You can take a long nap when you get home. Or you can sleep through the sermon.”
“Reverend Miller won’t like that.”
“But God will be glad you’re there. Besides, you said you’d take me wherever I need to go.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be taking it easy?”
“The doctor said church is fine as long as I don’t drive.”
“What about Brandon?” Could he think of any more reasons to go back to bed? If this one didn’t work, he’d have to go, because he could never tell Francie no.
“He’s at a training session in Dallas,” she explained patiently. “Well?”
“Okay, I’ll pick you up at ten.”
“Thanks. Bring Tim.”
Driving her to church was the least he could do. When he was eighteen, he’d held up a convenience store. He groaned, hating to relive that act and its consequences. To save him, so he could be a doctor, Francie had confessed and was serving time before he could take the blame himself. They were the same height and he’d worn a ski mask and jacket so she looked like the person in the surveillance tape.