'Well,' I said, 'I'll be shoving off now. Come by to see you tomorrow morning.'
I bent and whispered goodbye to Cassie. She batted her lashes and turned away.
Chip laughed. 'What a flirt. It's inborn, isn't it?'
Cindy said, 'Your techniques. When can we talk about that?'
'Soon,' I said. 'First I need to get a rapport with Cassie. I think we did pretty well today.'
'Oh. Sure. We did great. Didn't we, pudding?'
'Is ten o'clock a good time for you?'
'Sure,' said Cindy. 'We're not going anywhere.'
Chip looked at her and said, 'Dr. Eves didn't say anything about discharge?'
'Not yet. She wants to keep observing.'
He sighed. 'Okay.'
I walked to the door.
Chip said, 'I've got to be running, myself, Doctor. If you can hold on for one sec, I'll walk out with you.'
'Sure.'
He took his wife's hand.
I closed the door, walked to the nursing station, and went behind the desk. Vicki Bottomley was back from the gift shop, sitting in the unit clerk's chair, reading RN. No one else was around.
A box wrapped with Western Peds gift-shop paper sat on the counter, next to a coil of catheter tubing and a stack of insurance forms.
She didn't look up as I lifted Cassie's chart from the rack and began leafing through. I skimmed through the medical history and came upon Stephanie's psychosocial history. Wondering about the age difference between Chip and Cindy, I looked up his biographical data.
Charles L. Jones in. Age: 38. Educational level.' Master's d'gree.
Occupation: College professor Sensing someone looking at me, I lowered the chart and saw Vicki whipping her head back toward her magazine.
'So,' I said, 'how were things down in the gift shop?'
She lowered the journal. 'Is there something specific you need from me?'
Anything that would help me work with Cassie's anxiety.'
Her pretty eyes narrowed. 'Dr. Eves already asked me that. You were right here.' just wondering if something occurred to you in the meantime.
'Nothing ociurr'd,' she said, 'I don't know anything I'm just the nurse.'
'The nurse often knows more than anybody.'
'Tell it to the salary committee.' She lifted the magazine high, concealing her face.
I was considering my response when I heard my name called.
Chip Jones strode toward me.
'Thanks for waiting.'
The sound of his voice made Vicki stop reading. She straightened her cap and said, 'Hi, Dr. Jones.' A sweet smile spread across her face, honey on stale bread.
