It was the moment of truth.
Paige looked at Jason and thought, He's the first man I've been attracted to since Alfred. He's adorable and bright and genuine. He's everything a woman could want in a man. What's the matter with me! I'm holding on to a ghost. Yet deep inside her, she still had the overpowering feeling that one day Alfred was going to come back to her.
She looked at Jason and made her decision.' 'Jason..."
And at that moment, Paige's beeper went off. It sounded urgent, ominous.
"Paige ..."
"I have to get to a telephone." Two minutes later, she was talking to the hospital.
Jason watched Paige's face turn pale.
She was shouting into the telephone, "No! Absolutely not! Tell them I'll be right there." She slammed the phone down.
"What is it?" Jason asked.
She turned to him, and her eyes were filled with tears. "It's Jimmy Ford, my patient. They're going to take him off the respirator. They're going to let him die."
When Paige reached Jimmy Ford's room, there were three people there beside the comatose figure in bed: George Englund, Benjamin Wallace, and a lawyer, Silvester Damone.
Did you know I'm getting marriedl . . . Her name is Betsy. . . . We're going to have half a dozen kids. The first girl is going to be named Paige.
He had so very much to live for.
Paige stood there looking down at him, tears blurring the room. "Damn you!" she said. "You're a quitter!" She was sobbing now. "What happened to those dreams of yours? I thought you wanted to become a doctor! Answer me! Do you hear me? Open your eyes!" She looked down at the pale figure. There was no reaction. "I'm sorry," Paige said. "I'm so sorry." She leaned down to kiss him on the cheek, and as she slowly straightened up, she was looking into his open eyes.
"Jimmy! Jimmy'!"
He blinked and closed his eyes again. Paige squeezed his hand. She leaned forward and said through her sobs, "Jimmy, did you hear the one about the patient who was being fed intravenously? He asked the doctor for an extra bottle. He was having a guest for lunch."
Chapter Nineteen
Honey was happier than she had ever been in her life. She had a warm relationship with patients that few of the other doctors had. She genuinely cared about them. She worked in geriatrics, in pediatrics, and in various other wards, and Dr. Wallace saw to it that she was given assignments that kept her out of harm's way. He wanted to make sure that she stayed at the hospital and was available to him.
Honey envied the nurses. They were able to nurture their patients without worrying about major medical decisions. I never wanted to be a doctor, Honey thought. I always wanted to be a nurse. There are no nurses in the Taft family.
In the afternoons when Honey left the hospital, she would go shopping at the Bay Company, and Streetlight Records, and buy gifts for the children in pediatric care.
"I love children," she told Kat.
"Are you planning to have a large family?" "Someday," Honey said wistfully. "I have to find their father first."
One of Honey's favorite patients in the geriatric ward was Daniel McGuire, a cheerful man in his nineties who was suffering from a diseased liver condition. He had been a gambler in his youth, and he liked to make bets with Honey.
"I'll bet you fifty cents the orderly is late with my breakfast."
"I'll bet you a dollar it's going to rain this afternoon."
"I'll bet you the Giants win."
Honey always took his bets.
"I'll bet you ten to one I beat this thing," he said.
"This time I'm not going to bet you," Honey told him. "I'm on your side."
He took her hand. "I know you are." He grinned. "If I were a few months younger ..."
Honey laughed. "Never mind. I like older men."
One morning a letter came to him addressed to the hospital. Honey took it to him in his room.
"Read it to me, would you?" His eyesight had faded.
"Of course," Honey said. She opened the envelope, looked at it a moment, and let out a cry. "You've won the lottery! Fifty thousand dollars! Congratulations!"
"How about that?" He yelled. "I always knew I'd win the lottery one day! Give me a hug."
Honey leaned down and hugged him.
"You know something, Honey? I'm the luckiest man in the world."
When Honey came back to visit him that afternoon, he had passed away.
Honey was in the doctors' lounge when Dr. Stevens
walked in. "Is there a Virgo here?" One of the doctors laughed. "If you mean a virgin, I doubt it."
"A Virgo," Stevens repeated. "I need a Virgo." "I'm a Virgo," Honey said. "What's the problem?" He walked up to her. "The problem is that I have a
goddam maniac on my hands. She won't let anyone near her but a Virgo." Honey got up. "I'll go see her." "Thanks. Her name is Frances Gordon."
Frances Gordon had just had a hip replacement. The moment Honey walked into the room, the woman looked up and said, "You're a Virgo. Born on the cusp, right?"
Honey smiled. "That's right."
"Those Aquarians and Leos don't know what the hell they're doin'. They treat patients like they're meat."
"The doctors here are very good," Honey protested. "They—"
"Ha! Most of them are in it for the money." She looked at Honey more closely. "You're different."
Honey scanned the chart at the foot of the bed, a surprised look on her face.
"What's the matter? What are you lookin' at?"
"Has he beaten you up before?"