Chapter One
Melody
“Just one more patient for today, Mel,” Alice says to me, clipboard in one hand, pen in the other. “Gastric distress.”
She makes a face.
I do, too.
We both know what those words likely mean — that we’re less likely to be facing a tummy rumble than we are to be up against Old Faithful.
Last I checked, this hour’s appointment slot was open, which means whoever is coming in is suffering more from a gastric emergency than simple distress. Why deal with running in for medical help when you can just pop a pill or wait it out?
It’s nearly the end of the day, just an hour left before we shut the doors on our little clinic and flip the small sign on the door from saying ‘open’ to ‘closed’. Not that it matters much either way. You have to have regulars for it to mean something.
“Any more details on the patient?” I say, as I start washing up and getting ready some of the wet gear we keep around for the messier cases, like waterproof scrubs and thicker gloves. “Attitude, physical condition, any of that?”
She looks down at the clipboard. “Elderly, obese, male, ornery. Yes, they did say ‘ornery’. I made a point to write that down because only a certain type ever fit into the ‘ornery’ category. Plus, it’s kind of a fun word. Otherwise, sorry, they weren’t that specific when they called in. They just mentioned it was an emergency and could be kind of messy.”
I roll my eyes. This isn’t how I pictured my life turning out when I moved to this small town on the Oregon coast. It was supposed to be a fresh start after a series of disasters that I’d rather forget — a new opportunity, a new chance at making things happen for myself.
This was supposed to be something I could call my own and look on with pride. Not, well, spending the day hovering around an empty office and capping it off with a gastric emergency.
Still, it’s better than where I was before. Even thinking about him makes me shudder, and it’s been almost a year since I left that nightmare of an ex behind.
“Don’t worry about it — we’ll find out the rest when they get here. Besides, beggars can’t be choosers.”
“True.”
I finish putting on my scrubs and look over at Alice. We’ve been spending so much time alone together, because she reads my expression before I even speak. I hate that what I’m about to ask her has become so routine that she’s learned ‘the look’ that goes with me asking her.
“Yes,” she says. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll do it.”
“You’re sure? I hate to ask. It’s just, you know —”
“I get it. No worries, Mel,” she says, trying to sound reassuring. “Besides, I could use the extra time off. My friend Beth is moving, so I’ll go give her a hand. I’ll be in around noon, ok?”
I also hate that she’s always coming up with excuses and reasons to justify me cutting her hours. She’s too good to work here.
I pop off one of my gloves and fish around in my pockets, even though it means I’ll have to wash up again, and pull out a couple crinkled one dollar bills and hand them over. “Treat yourself to some coffee tomorrow, ok? And, Al, could you come in around one, instead? I think our first appointments at 1:30.”
She sighs and makes no move to take the money from me. “You know I won’t take that. But I will get us some coffee. You want the usual?”
I wave the cash at her again. “Please, take it. It’ll make me feel better. And yes — a double — but can you make sure it’s Brianna that makes it? Janet never adds enough caramel syrup to my latte.”
She looks at it, unsure. “Mel, I’d feel better if I didn’t take it.”
The cash goes back into my pocket without any more protest. Business has been so bad lately that I won’t fight her too hard. Besides, the money will probably just wind up going to her paycheck anyways. I haven’t had a paycheck of my own in weeks.
This isn’t what I envisioned for myself when I came to Rockaway Bay. An empty office, a patient roster that barely fills a few lines in a notebook bought from a dollar store, and a dwindling bank account.
But it’s mine. I built it, and even though it’s failing right now, I can still take pride in the fact that I did this. It’s an accomplishment.
I had no big expectations when I came to Rockaway Bay, leaving behind an abusive ex. The only thing I wanted was to find a quiet, anonymous place where I could experience some peace, where I could find myself and live without David Tyson — my ex — trying to control me.
The fact that I built a business? The fact that I rebuilt my life — as small as it is — is something that fills my heart to bursting.
There’s a rap at the door and commotion turns Al and me from our reverie to the work at hand. The two of us head to the front room, smiles on our faces and both of us projecting an air of calm and authority. It’s important, when dealing with patients who might be agitated or upset, to demonstrate that you’re calm and in charge. Even if you have to fake it.
We spot, and smell, our patient right away.
Al heads to the older man accompanying our patient, starting in on the questions that’ll help us diagnose what’s wrong.
“When did the issue first present itself?” she says.
The older man crinkles his wrinkly brow, making it look like the Grand Canyon is carved into his forehead.
“This morning’s been the worst of it. Mighta started last night — he was a bit gassy after dinner — but this morning, woo-wee, I gave him something to eat and lord above, I ain’t seen a gusher like that since I was on the fire department and some daggum teenagers broke open a hydrant.”
My stomach hitches a bit listening to the old man while I check our patient over. Alice gags too, though she manages to cover it pretty well by faking a cough.
His pulse is steady, though a bit elevated, temperature feels a little high, but nothing too abnormal, nothing dangerous.
“You’re doing very well,” I whisper while I place my stethoscope on his abdomen. “Just hold still while I take a little listen.”
I frown.
It feels like I’m listening to an earthquake in slow-motion.
Rumble rumble rumble.
Al sees the look on my face and she stops questioning the old man. “You want my help getting him to the observation room?”
I nod. “Yes. Let’s go to the back one. It’s got a floor drain. And we should hurry. It sounds like things are pretty active in there.”
I can’t hide the urgency in my voice and the patient picks up on it, giving me this fix me now look and I just shake my head and give them a reassuring pat on the head while Al comes over to help me.
Together, we get him up and into the back observation room, while the old man follows behind us, still talking about fire hydrants and teenagers and babbling in the way that only old people seem able to do.
The patient hardly struggles when we get him on the table and I take a second listen at their abdomen. It sounds like a witches cauldron at full toil-and-trouble boil.
He whines a little and I hear a big bubble of something pop inside.
“Al, I need you to fetch me an IV, we have to keep the patient from getting dehydrated” I say. “And, then I need you to get a mop and bucket.”
She hustles away to get everything I’ve asked for and then I turn to the old man.
“What’s your name, sir?” I say.
He keeps his eyes on the patient while he talks to me. It’s obvious how concerned he is — that canyon-sized frown hasn’t left his face the entire time he’s been here.
“David,” he says. “David Belweather.”
I smile at him. “Nice to meet you, David. I’m Melody. And what’s that good boy over there’s name?”
“That’s Rex. He’s a Great Dane-Husky mix.”
I look over at Rex on the table and my smile gets bigger. Even though he’s in obvious gassy discomfort, he’s still wagging his tail and sitting exactly where I left him. He’s a beautiful dog, big like a Great Dane, but with a darker, fluffy coat and some black and white spotting from his husky genes.
“We’re going to make sure he’s comfortable, set him up with a little IV to keep his fluids up, and give him a little something to soothe his GI tract. He should be right as rain in the morning. There’s no fever, and his heart rate is normal, which is really good. He probably just ate something that upset him.”
David has his eyes glued to Rex. “You think so?”
“I’m pretty sure, David.”
“He’s my best friend. Only friend, really, since my wife passed,” his voice shakes a little. “He’s the one who makes sure I get up each morning to take a walk.”
I look over at Rex again, who’s whimpering and moving a bit like he wants to get off the table and get closer to David. I head over and pet him while Alice comes back in with the IV. Even though Alice knows how to hook an IV up and has done it plenty of times on her own, I do this one myself.
“You’re going to be all right, boy,” I whisper as I slip the needle in.
Rex doesn’t make a peep. Except when he lets out a bit of gas and then he whimpers and puts a paw over his face like he’s embarrassed.
“He really is a sweetheart, isn’t he?” Alice says, petting Rex while I double-check the dog’s vitals. I’m pretty certain of my diagnosis, but I want to make sure as heck that this dog is going to turn out fine.
“Did he eat anything unusual lately?” I say.
David shrugs. “Not that I know, but it’s possible. I lost track of him at the park for a little while and he’s always been curious,” he pauses, considering. “It was after that when he started having problems, and I know the fire department had a bbq at that park the other night.”
“Well, there you go. Rex probably helped himself to some leftover steak when he shouldn’t have,” I say, still petting the dog. “We’ll need to keep him overnight for observation. Al, can you take David up front and get him set up with the paperwork?”
She nods. Though I’m all focused on making sure Rex is comfortable, inside I’m heaving a great big sigh of relief. Finally, a paying customer.
Out front, I hear Al saying goodbye to David, and David calls out goodbye to Rex, who burps and then barks happily, then burps and makes the kind of mess that has me holding my nose.
The little bell we have hanging on the front door chimes to signal David’s departure.
“Drinks later? Once we get Rex settled in?” I call out to Al. “My treat.”
“You sure?” she answers, coming down the hallway.
She stops. She sees.
“Oh.” She sniffs. “Shit.”
I nod. “Yeah. So… Drinks?”
She nods.
“Drinks.”