Nyc Angels: The Wallflower's Secret. Susan Carlisle

a look at your head. Maybe we can give you a smaller bandage.”

      “It’s itchy.” The boy wrinkled his nose.

      “Yes. That means you’re getting better. I’ll see if we can’t help with that problem.”

      As he removed the gauze, Lucy watched the parents’ faces to gage their reactions. Death wasn’t the only time people experienced grief. A major life trauma could bring on the emotion. Lucy knew that all too well. She’d run to get away from hers.

      “Will he be able to ride a bike?” the boy’s mother asked. “Do we have to worry about him falling?”

      Dr. O’Doherty didn’t look at the mother as he said, “Ms. Walters, my clinical nurse, can answer those questions for you.” He continued to unwrap the bandage.

      The mother looked like she’d been struck. She stepped back from the bed.

      He continued to examine the surgical site then spoke to the floor nurse standing next to him. “I believe we can place a four-by-four bandage over this.” He looked at the boy. “You’ll look less like a pirate but it won’t be so itchy.”

      That statement brought a real smile to the boy’s face.

      “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dr. O’Doherty said, before turning to leave. He shook the big toe of the boy’s foot as he moved toward the door

      The mother followed him out into the hall. “Dr. O’Doherty, we were wondering what to expect next,” the mother said, tears filling her eyes.

      “My nurse will answer all your questions.”

      Lucy compressed her lips. Where had all the charm that had oozed from him seconds before gone?

      “Will he ever be like he was?” The mother’s eyes pleaded to know.

      “I don’t make those kinds of promises,” Dr. O’Doherty clipped.

      The mother looked stricken again.

      This man had a sterling bedside manner where his patients were concerned but he sure lacked finesse with the parents. Why was he suddenly so cold?

      Lucy stepped forward, not looking at Dr. O’Doherty for permission. She placed an arm around the woman’s shoulders. “Mrs. Banasiak, I’m Lucy Edwards, the family counselor. I think I can help answer some of your questions.”

      The mother sagged in relief. She shot a look at Dr. O’Doherty and then said to Lucy, “Thank you, so much.”

      Dr. O’Doherty progressed on down the hall with his group in tow without a backward glance. Lucy hung back to speak to the parents further. The watery eyes and fragile smile of the mother touched Lucy’s heart. These were the type of people who needed her. It felt good to be using her skills again.

      Ryan paused in front of the last patient-to-be-seen door. Turning, he waited for the group to join him. Ms. Edwards was missing. Should he really be surprised? He discussed the patient, while his frustration grew. She could speak to the parents on her own time.

      “We’re glad you could join us,” he said when she finally walked up.

      Her eyes didn’t meet his. The woman didn’t like having the spotlight on her. By the way she dressed and spoke so softly, he guessed she spent most of her time in the shadows. “I needed to reassure the parents,” she said quietly.

      Pushing the door of the patient room open, he stepped in. “Hi, Lauren,” he said to the ten-year-old sitting up in bed, watching TV. “I believe you’ll be ready to go home tomorrow. How does that sound?”

      The grandmother, who was the girl’s caretaker, stepped to the bed. “That’s wonderful. What do we need to do about getting her back in school when the time comes?”

      A soft but strong voice beside him said, “I’ll help with that.”

      “This is Lucy Edwards,” he said to the grandmother. “She’s my family counselor.”

      The only indication that Ms. Edwards didn’t appreciate the word “my” was the slight tightening around her lips. That had been entirely the wrong thing to say. He didn’t know how to repair the faux pas gracefully in front of a patient’s family so he continued speaking to the grandmother. He’d apologize to Ms. Edwards later.

      This quiet, gentle-voiced woman wasn’t his anything. She wasn’t even his type. He was used to dating freer-spirited women, who thought less and laughed more. Those who were loud and boisterous and were not interested in emotional attachments. Ms. Edwards had already demonstrated she was the touchy-feely type.

      He left the room while the grandmother rattled off a list of questions for Ms. Edwards.

      After answering a page, he returned to the nurses’ station in search of Ms. Edwards. Not seeing her, he was forced to ask where her office was located. He’d never paid much attention to the family counselors. He knew they had a job to do and as far as he was concerned they did it. Rarely did he interact with one outside other than when they asked him a question or left a note on a chart.

      He knocked lightly on the nondescript door with a small plate that showed he was in the correct place. The door was opened by a woman he recognized. “Hi, Ryan. What’s up?”

      “Hello, Nancy. I was trying to find Ms. Edwards.”

      “Yes-s-s.” The word being drawn out came from inside. He’d found the right place. Ms. Edwards put far too many syllables in a word. He glanced around the woman in front of him. Ms. Edwards looked at him with wide, questioning eyes.

      “I’ll get out of your way. It’s time to head home anyway,” the older woman said. “Nice to see you, Ryan.”

      “You too.” He smiled as she left and stepped into the doorway, holding the door open. “Do you mind if I come in a minute?”

      The new counselor looked unsure but nodded her agreement.

      He’d received warmer welcomes but guessed he couldn’t blame her, considering their less than congenial start. She sat at the desk furthest away from the door. Her eyes resembled those of a startled animal as he pushed the door closed behind him. The look eased when he sat down in the chair furthest from her. Was she afraid of him? He conjured up one of his friendliest smiles.

      She gave him an inquiring look.

      “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the comment about you being my family counselor. I misworded the statement. It won’t happen again.”

      Her bearing softened. “Dr. O’Doherty—”

      “Please call me Ryan. I’m a pretty casual guy generally.” She looked unsure about the idea. “May I call you Lucy?”

      She nodded slowly. “Uh, Ryan, I know you’re not a fan of this coordinated patient care arrangement but I’d really like us to work together with as little conflict as possible.”

      He liked the way his name sounded when she said it. Kind of easygoing and warm. “I’ll do my part but there have to be some ground rules.”

      She pursed her lips and her delicately shaped brows drew closer together. “And those would be?”

      “I expect the people that work for me to be punctual and to stay with me as I make rounds. I don’t wait.”

      “Dr. O’Doherty, I don’t work for you. I work for the hospital, and ultimately for the patients. If I understood Mr. Matherson correctly, we do coordinated patient care. Which means we work together.”

      “My OR schedule, which the hospital dictates, means I don’t have time to stand around waiting for you.”

      “And my job, which the hospital and the human heart dictate, is to care for the patient and the family during a difficult time. My job is to help the whole family. We…” She waved a hand around, broadly including him. “This hospital should care for the whole person. That’s my job