Chapter 5

I saw Anita in the ER from time to time and we always spent a few minutes chatting and asking after each other. She never alluded to our almost-conjugal encounter and neither did I. Obviously, after her comment at Denny's about wanting me to 'fuck her 'til she screamed for mercy', she began to have second thoughts, and I knew that had to make her uncomfortable every time we ran into each other. But there was nothing I could do about that. I'd alway regret that it didn't happen. I still wanted her.

She was still a couple of months away from graduating from P-school but I could already appreciate the boost in her self-confidence as well as her keen insight into her patients' medical issues. Every time she handed a patient off to the triage nurse, she gave such a detailed, thorough report that follow-up questions were rarely needed. I knew she was going to be an ace paramedic some day, and I would always take a little pride in aiming her in that direction.

As far as my own life was concerned, I was becoming a pretty darned good emergency doc, if I do say so myself. I attribute that as much to the terrible mistake I made with Anita as to any genius on my part. Every time I found myself about to take some kind of shortcut with a patient's assessment or treatment, I'd think about how close the two of us came to disaster. I strove for meticulousness in my patient care.

On a personal level, I'd been dating a few women, mostly nurses, but we never got serious about anything ... like living together. Nobody was on the hunt for a soulmate. Seems we all shared an unspoken common interest, and that was to just go out, have a good time and, if the evening went well, maybe we'd end it with a fun tumble in the hay and breakfast the next morning.

But, while the fancy-free life style had some appeal, I found myself thinking about something more permanent as my thirtieth birthday came and went. If I was going to have kids, I wanted them to be a little closer to my age than a grandchild would be. More and more, I would catch myself mentally evaluating my dates as potential wives and mothers, and that can sometimes have a dampening effect on the evening. When your libido is screaming for gratification and your rational mind is looking for a woman with strong moral and ethical qualities, well, they don't always coincide, do they?

One night, I dropped into El Gato Negro and discovered the reason Anita had lost interest in a relationship with me. It had been a killer shift, with two cardiac arrests (one saved, one lost), a gunshot wound to the chest and a major highway crash with multiple victims with multiple injuries. The whole ER staff worked ourselves into a state of exhaustion and I was very much in need of a couple of beers, maybe a couple of shots of whiskey, to boot.

It was about midnight when I walked in the door. I was about to park myself on a bar stool when I caught sight of Denise in a booth in the back of the room with her arm around another woman and kissing her in a way that was anything but chaste. She wasn't in uniform and I couldn't see who the other woman was because her back was to me. Well, it really wasn't any of my business, was it?

Before I could look away, Denise's eye caught mine and she smiled and waved me over. I was tired and I didn't feel up to much socializing but it would have been rude to ignore her, so I grabbed my beer and started winding my way through the tables. When I was about half way there, the other woman turned to look at me and I saw that it was Anita.

I don't know why that hit me so hard, but it did. No, I do know; it hit me so hard because it made me angry with Denise for putting the moves on the girl I had hopes for, and angry with Anita for not being straight with me (no pun intended). But then, I had no right to get all bent out of shape because Anita owed me nothing and Denise couldn't have known we were about to become an item. It's just the way the chips fell. Shit happens!

By the time I got to the table, the rush and flush of emotion was already ebbing and I managed a smile as I took a seat across from them. Anita looked up at me, a little guiltily, I thought, and Denise said, "Hey, Dr. Ken, how's it goin'?"

I thought I'd make my excuses for a quick departure right off the bat. "Pretty well, but it's been a long, a hard shift and I'm ready for some sleep. Just thought I'd drop in for a nightcap to help me along the way. What's up with you guys?"

Again, Denise did the talking. "We've been at the Corral dancing all evening. We just came by to see if any of the crowd was here before heading home." She slid her arm over Anita's shoulder and added, "You know our girl's gonna graduate P-school on the 15th, don't you?"

"Yeah, well, I knew it was close but I didn't know the exact date." I looked at Anita with genuine happiness and said, "I hope you know how proud of you we all are. I can see already that you're gonna be a top quality street medic."

Anita kind of shrugged it off and said, "I don't know about that but I plan to do my best. You two are the ones that made it all happen. I'm always going to owe you big time for showing me the way out of a dead-end life."

"Nonsense, Sweetie!" Denise kissed her on the cheek. "You did all the work. Ken and I just happened to be in a position where we could help."

She leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially and went on, "And speaking of positions, just between the three of us, I have a little good news to share."

I was ready for some good news. "Yeah? Well let's have it."

She leaned across the table and whispered, "The first part is that I'm gonna be named Chief on Monday."

I sat back feeling pleased but not surprised. I knew the position was open and that she was the top contender. "Congratulations, girl! They couldn't have made a better choice."

Denise was beaming. "Thank you, kind sir. I wanted you guys to be the first to know because ... well because you're both very special people in my life."

Anita prompted her, "You said that's the first part; is there more?"

"Oh, yeah, there is more and it's about you!" She hugged Anita's shoulder. "I've already talked to my boss and he said it was kosher to do this. I'm holding a position open in the paramedic division for you when you graduate. We'll start the paperwork the day after you get your state test results. Of course, you'll still have to be on probation through a six-month field internship."

Anita's eyes popped wide open and she gasped, "Oh my god! I can't believe it! I thought it would be months before I could even apply!" She threw her arms around Denise and cried, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Then she stood up and moved around the table to hug me as well. "And thank you, Ken for being such a good man and starting me off on a new life. I'll never be able to repay you for ... well, for everything."

I felt a flash of the old guilt as I thought back on the night we first met. It just slipped out of my mouth, "Actually, it was me repaying you, Anita."

She gave me a confused look as she sat back down next to Denise, "How do you mean?"

Did I really want to say this? O'Malley would slit my throat if he knew what I was about to reveal! Maybe it was the fatigue or maybe it was her unquestioning trust, but I decided I'd lived with it long enough. "I have a long overdue confession to make if you feel up to hearing it."

They both gave me a skeptical look and Anita asked, "What would you have to confess, Ken?"

I took a deep breath, reached over to take her hand and laid it all out. "Remember that night you came into the hospital a little over two years ago with PID?"

"Of course I do. That's when we first met up. What about it?"

"Well, Anita, the truth is, I completely blew your diagnosis. First, I unfairly marked you as a prostitute, then I was in a hurry to leave and sidestepped an important diagnostic test that would have identified your ectopic pregnancy. On top of all that, I discharged you while you were still drunk. I violated a whole series of protocols, and those mistakes earned me one royal ass-chewing from O'Malley and a remedial class in OB/GYN from Jane Willard. I could have lost my job, but far more importantly, you could have lost your life. It's been a tender spot on my conscience ever since. So, you don't owe me anything, Anita. I owe you a profound apology for being such a jerk. There! I've said it and I hope you're not going to sue my pants off."

She sat there looking at me for several seconds before asking, "You thought I was a hooker?"

"Yeah. Sorry."

She looked at Denise and they both burst out laughing.

I couldn't see what was so damned funny. "OK, ladies, wanna let me in on the joke?"

When she got control of herself, Anita picked up my hand and kissed it, saying, "It's just that Denise and I were talking just last week about how much my life has changed since that day and I told her that I bet you had me pegged for a hooker when you first saw me because I was drunk and me and my friends were all dressed up to go cruising for boys. So I was right!" And they started laughing all over again.

Maybe she didn't understand. "Anita," I tried again, "that's not the point! I mean, mistaking you for a hooker was bad enough but I shouldn't have let you go home, hooker or not! You should have been referred directly to surgery to repair the damage before it ruptured and bled. That was the big screw-up!"

Still trying to control her laughter, she reasoned, "But it turned out OK, didn't it? So what's the big deal?"

"The big deal is that it was sloppy medical practice on my part. My mistake might have caused you to die!"

I guess she could see that I was feeling terrible about what had happened and got serious. "Ken, if there's one thing I've learned about this business since I started P-school, it's that trying to figure out what's wrong with people is so complicated sometimes, it scares the pee out of me. And that's in P-school! I can't even imagine what it would be like for a doctor.

"And you know what? Everybody I talk to thinks you're one of the best ER docs they've ever seen. Jesus, don't go beating up on yourself because you made a mistake once while you were still learning the business. Besides, wasn't the attending supposed to be looking over your shoulder so that stuff wouldn't happen?"

She was right, of course, but that didn't erase my guilt. It was important for me to get it out in the open, to give her a chance to either forgive me or to kick my ass. She deserved that choice.

I finished my beer, stood up to leave and stepped around the table to kiss her on the cheek. "So, now you know. Thanks for being so understanding, Anita." I reached over her and patted Denise on the shoulder and said, "Congratulations again, Chief!"

I was halfway across the room when I had an idea. I turned and walked back to their booth. "Would you girls like to come over to my place next Saturday for dinner? I'm not much of a chef but I have a couple of dishes I'm pretty good at. It'll be kind of a celebration of your good work and good fortune."

They looked a each other and nodded their agreement. Denise nudged Anita out of the way and slid out of the booth to give me a big hug. "You've got a party on your hands, Mister! Want us to bring some hooch?"

"Bring whatever you want as long as it includes an appetite. I'm making lasagna."

"What time?"

"Um, sevenish?"

"We'll be there with bells on." She giggled, "Well, we'll have something on, anyway."

"Great! Make it casual. See ya then!"

My mother is second generation Italian and looks upon cooking as an art form, not a chore. She tried to teach me and my sister how to be creative in the kitchen but, for the most part, it was only my sister who took it to heart. Among the few recipes that stuck in my head was one for a super marinara sauce that I liked to use for my lasagna. I hate commercial spaghetti sauces because they're usually loaded with sugar and other things that are generally bad for the human body. The marinara simmered all afternoon before I ladled it onto the layers of goodies. I also used freshly-made Italian sausage from a little Italian market downtown and three different kinds of cheese; provolone, mozzarella, and asiago. Well, four, counting the ricotta. I always got high praise for my lasagna.

I'd just taken it out of the oven to rest and was about to make a salad when Denise and Anita showed up at my door with a bottle of good chianti and a six-pack of Heineken. They were both wearing tight jeans and form-fitting tops, both of which they filled out very nicely. I was so used to seeing Denise in her uniform that it was a treat to see how hot she could look in civvies. But she'd long since made her sexual preference known, so I, as well as the rest of the male population, would just have to drool from afar.

"Come on in, ladies and make yourself at home! Maybe I could talk one of you into helping me in the kitchen and the other into setting the table. Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes."

Hugs all around.

Anita said, "I know where everything is so I'll set the table."

"OK by me," Denise agreed, "Tell me what to do, boss 'cause I'm ready for a big plate of whatever smells so yummy!"

"Um, if you'll finish making the salad, I'll pop the garlic bread into the oven. If you want some of the wine or a beer, help yourself. I wouldn't mind a glass of the chianti."

She poured a glass for me and opened beers for herself and Anita.

All through dinner, I basked in their kudos for the lasagna. Nobody's appetite was wanting and we all had seconds. Most of the chatter was the latest gossip floating around the hospital plus some interesting EMS cases, pretty much an inevitable topic of discussion among our ilk. It was one of those long, pleasant dinners that are all too rare, these days.

An hour after we sat down, I began clearing the table and offered gelato for desert, but there were no takers because we were all stuffed. I shooed the girls into the living room to relax while I made a pot of coffee and loaded the dishwasher. When I brought in the tray with three steaming cups, cream, sugar, and a bottle of brandy, I took notice that Anita sat on the couch while Denise took the wingback chair. I guess I expected them to be sitting together.

I poured a pretty good slug of the brandy into my coffee but both ladies declined. I sat on the couch with Anita but at the other end; I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable. "So, is there some sort of ceremony for your graduating P-school class. If there is, I'd like an invitation, please."

Denise answered, "Nothing formal but we're all gathering at El Gato Negro for a celebratory bash after the final exam. You're sure welcome to come join us. Since I was the course coordinator, I'll be handing out certificates of completion. Of course, they all still have to take the state paramedic certification exam next month so there's still some cramming to do. The learning never really ends, as you well know."

I leaned back, propped my feet up on the coffee table and took a sip of my heavily laced, aromatic coffee. "So, how was your first week as Chief, Denise?"

"Busy, busy, busy! I had meetings with O'Malley, hospital administration and all the shift supervisors. Monday, I'm meeting with the Fire Chief to talk about co-responses. Of course, everybody has their own opinions about how things around the division could be improved. That means I'm also learning the political side of the job, like how to smile and say 'Thank you' while I'm really thinking, 'Well, that's just stupid!'. But all in all, I'm going to like it because I know for a fact that we have the best paramedic service in the state, maybe in the country. And I intend to make it even better."

"I don't doubt that for a minute." I looked over at Anita and asked, "See what you're going to have to live up to?"

She rolled her eyes and answered, "Yes, and it scares the hell out of me!"

I tried to reassure her, "Believe me, it's nothing you can't handle. I know your boss well enough to know she wouldn't have even considered bringing you on board if she didn't have every confidence in your abilities." I looked over at Denise for confirmation. "Am I right?"

She laughed, "You know you are."

Then she got this strange look on her face and said, "So, Ken, on another subject, what's this I hear about you and Jane Willard having a thing? Any truth to that rumor?"

I was totally unprepared for that one. "Where'd you hear about that? I thought we were being very discreet."

She snorted, "Come on, Ken! You know nothing gets past the grapevine."

"Yeah, well, we were seeing each other for a little while but it was never serious. She found someone she liked better and that ended that."

"So, are you seeing anybody else now?"

"No, not really. I've had a few dates but they were just that, dates. Why the interest in my personal life?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just curious."

"Come on, Denise," I pushed. "I know you and I can tell when you have an agenda. What are you getting at?"

"No, really!" She caught my look and knew I wasn't buying it. "Well, OK, I was asking for a friend, that's all."

"And what friend would that be? You brought the subject up so don't leave me hanging."

She flashed a wicked grin. "None of you bees wax! Let's just change the subject, OK?"

In a barely audible voice, Anita said, "It was me. She was asking for me."

Now, I was totally confused. I looked back and forth between the two of them, wondering what was going on. "Uh, I guess I don't understand. I thought you two, um, had something going. I mean, it's none of my business, Anita, but I thought you'd decided that guys were out of the picture. Did I miss something?"

Anita set her coffee down and wiped a tear off her cheek. "No. Well, yes. Oh, I don't know!" With that, she covered her face with her hands and broke down weeping. Denise and I moved at the same time to comfort her, hugging her from both sides.

"Hey," I apologized, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to say anything to upset you. I just thought that was the way it was."