Marie Ferrarella

The Doctor's Guardian


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through something that won’t result in you getting better. He is an excellent cardiovascular surgeon,” she told Ericka. “Patience Memorial wouldn’t give him operating privileges here if he wasn’t.”

      “We’ll see,” was all Ericka was willing to concede. She shifted her eyes toward her grandson. “Coleman, you said you had some questions to ask this very young lady,” she reminded him.

      Nika picked up on the woman’s inflection. “I’m not as young as I look, Mrs. Baker,” she assured her.

      Ericka blew out another breath. “You couldn’t be,” she retorted. “And don’t go dismissing that particular attribute so lightly,” she warned. “Someday, when you’re an old lady like me, looking younger than your years will be something you’ll treasure, not disclaim. Mark my words,” she underscored with a look meant to pin Nika against the wall.

      “You’re not an old lady, G,” Cole rebutted affectionately, taking her hand in both of his. “You’re just a little older than I am.”

      “This is why I keep him around,” Ericka confided to her new doctor. “He’s very good for my ego. Even if he lies really badly,” she added with a laugh. “Now, ask her what you want to ask her, then go before they realize they can do without you at the precinct.” Her thin lips pulled into a frown as she reviewed his attire again. “And maybe you’d better stop at your place to change,” Ericka added with a shake of her head. “What exactly did you rescue Dr. Pulaski from?” she asked, curious. “A garbage dump?”

      When the detective didn’t look as if he would answer right away, Nika was more than happy to fill his grandmother in.

      “The elevator I was on got stuck between floors and the repairman wasn’t going to be able to get here for a few hours.” She looked across her patient’s bed at the detective. “Your grandson very kindly shimmied down the elevator cables to get me out of there.”

      Ericka nodded, as if there was no other course her grandson could have taken. “He is a good boy,” the elderly woman said proudly, giving his hand a squeeze.

      Detective Cole Baker hadn’t been a boy in a very long time, Nika caught herself thinking. What she first saw coming to her rescue, his legs wrapped around the cables as easily as if he was climbing down a rope in gym class, was without question all man.

      She noted that he appeared somewhat embarrassed by his grandmother’s simple declaration, even though he was trying not to show it. She decided one good rescue deserved another and came to his—verbally.

      “So, what are these questions you want to ask?” Nika prompted.

      He seemed surprised at her directness. Did she intend to discuss his grandmother’s case in front of her? “You don’t want to go somewhere private to talk?”

      “Why? This is about your grandmother.” Nika nodded at the woman who was listening intently to every word. “She has a right to hear whatever’s said.”

      Ericka’s thin lips spread even thinner in a pleased, wide smile.

      “I like this girl, Coleman.” She looked at the young woman. “Most doctors treat patients as if their minds had already evaporated. That’s especially true if those patients are my age.”

      “I think you have every right to know and understand what’s going on,” Nika told her simply. She knew she would want that in the woman’s place. “Dr. Goodfellow wants me to carry out a series of lab tests, and run an EEG to make sure that you’re strong enough to go through this procedure. By the way, when you do have the ablation procedure,” she continued as if passing the tests was a foregone conclusion, “you will have to remain awake.”

      Cole eyed her sharply. “They’re not going to put her out?”

      “No, but they will numb the area so that you won’t feel any pain,” she reassured both the patient and her grandson quickly. “They just want to know if something out of the ordinary happens. The best way is to keep you conscious and responsive,” she told Ericka. “You’ll be able to help guide them by saying if you can still feel certain things when they test different areas on your body.”

      This was all news to the older woman. “Well, if I’m going to help, then I shouldn’t have to pay them the whole charge—” Ericka declared.

      “G,” Cole’s tone cautioned his grandmother not to say something that could be construed argumentative.

      “You won’t be paying anything,” Nika pointed out, opening the woman’s chart. “You have Medicare and a supplementary secondary carrier. They’re the ones who’ll take care of the bill.”

      “Yes, well, it’s the principle of the thing that matters,” Ericka said, her voice trailing off slightly as she seemed to lose momentum.

      “How long will it take?” Cole asked, turning his attention to her.

      “The surgery?” Nika repeated, guessing what his question referred to. “Most ablations usually run about—”

      “No, the tests,” he interrupted before she could finish. “How long before you know if she can have the surgery? The last attack she had was pretty bad. It lasted over two hours.”

      “Tattletale,” Ericka accused with an annoyed pout.

      Their roles, it occurred to Cole, had somehow gotten reversed and now he was the parent and she the child. He wasn’t used to this.

      Nika glanced toward the woman in the bed. A hundred fifty years ago, Ericka Baker would have been viewed as the perfect prototype for a robust, determined pioneer woman. Pioneer women didn’t have time to be sick. It got in their way and annoyed them.

      “She doesn’t like the way those palpitations have been restricting her activities.” It was an educated guess on Nika’s part.

      He shook his head. “Not a hell of a whole lot, no. Would you?” he challenged.

      “No, I wouldn’t,” she said honestly. “We should have everything back tomorrow, noon.”

      “That long?”

      Gauging the duration was all in the eyes of the beholder. Nika laughed. “There was a time when a simple appendectomy kept a patient in the hospital for two weeks,” she told him. “In comparison, this is pretty fast and streamlined.”

      She could see that her answer didn’t satisfy him. Hard man to please, she thought. But he wasn’t her concern. His grandmother was. “I’ll call in a favor and we’ll bump you up to the head of the line,” she promised Ericka. “It’s the least I can do, seeing as how your grandson rescued me.”

      Ericka nodded again, somewhat placated. “Sounds only fair,” she agreed, glancing toward Cole.

      Time for him to go, Nika thought, even though there was something about his presence that was oddly unsettling and yet exciting at the same time. Neither had a place within the framework of her duties.

      “And now, Detective, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to make yourself scarce,” she told him.

      Not that he planned on staying any longer—the meeting was swiftly breathing down his neck—but having this snippet of a doctor push him out of the room like this raised red flags for him.

      “Why?” he asked.

      “Because I’m going to have to examine your grandmother now,” she told him patiently, “and I think it would be more comfortable for her if you respectfully waited just outside the door.”

      He looked at his grandmother and then quickly looked away. It was hard to say if he was more embarrassed for himself, or for the older woman.

      “Oh, yeah, well—” Heat rose up along his neck, causing it to turn an unnatural shade of reddish-pink. He was already at the door, turning the doorknob. “I’ll come by after my shift, G.” He tossed the words over his shoulder, along with one last