Chapter 9

" ... critical that the position of ombudsman adhere to the ethical principles of the International Ombudsman Association: independence; neutrality and impartiality; confidentiality; and informality. The ombudsman must be a member of the IOA."

Abigail paused for a second and reread the sentence. How important was that? As long as they adhered to the principles of the International Ombudsman Association, that should be enough. Of course, they might need a way to measure this. Those principles were nebulous. She quickly erased the sentence from the screen, and typed again.

"The ombudsman should be encouraged to retain membership within the IOA, and his or her services should be regularly assessed."

Abigail glanced down at her notes to get her next thought. A knock on her open door drew her attention.

Ruth Kapowski stood there with her purse slung over her shoulder. "Lunch ... we ... need ... lunch..."

Abigail smiled at the petite blonde. "Just another minute."

"You said that ten minutes ago. If I hear Jerry's stomach growl one more time, I'm stuffing copier paper down his throat."

Abigail laughed. Ruth often made her laugh, but that was only one of the reasons why the patient care coordinator had become one of Abigail's closest friends at the office. She was spunky, for one. She was innovative for another, and her personality just seemed to mesh with Abigail's. She was the employee Abigail felt she could most rely on.

"Fine. Let me print this version off and run it to Fran's office for her to review."

Jerry Thompson leaned around the doorjamb. "Good luck. Our charismatic leader is on the warpath today."

His sarcasm was not lost on Abigail, and that made her frown. Jerry, a good guy and solid employee, had become increasingly more pessimistic during Abigail's short employment, and much of it could be traced back to his feelings for Fran. He and Abigail both reported directly to older woman, but while the middle-aged man was the lead program auditor, Abigail was still a step up on the org chart.

"And this is different how?" Ruth asked him.

"Not different, just interesting. You know the presentation that Ivan has been working on for weeks?"

"The one he's to present to the Board in two days?"

"Yep. Fran reviewed it probably four times during the last few weeks, but she waited until today to give him her edits, ALL of them, pages and pages of notes. Appears she's recommending he change the crux of his presentation."

"Why'd she wait until today?" Abigail asked. She hated getting involved in office squabbles, but she was particularly curious about anything regarding her supervisor.

"That's what Ivan asked, but all he got was something about an essential 'change in tactic' and a demand to have the modifications on her desk by tomorrow morning."

"Well, that explains why she's been staying out of the trenches for the last couple of days," Ruth said.

"Yeah, but now she's prowling," Jerry replied.

Suddenly his stomach growled loudly. Abigail smiled.

"My God, Jer," Ruth exclaimed. "You need to eat a bigger breakfast or something."

"I missed my mid-morning snack," he joked. "Abigail, my hungry soul is pleading with you."

"Fine." Abigail stood and pulled the pages off the printer. "Fran's supposed to be in a meeting, but you guys go ahead and get a table. I'll drive myself and meet you there."

Jerry shrugged. "OK, but we're not waiting to order the Pogacha bread. If you're too long, I'll eat it all."

Abigail's co-workers disappeared into the hall as Abigail grabbed her wallet and keys from her soft-sided briefcase. With the analysis in hand, she headed to Fran's office. As she walked, she thought about her boss.

Fran had been a bit uptight when Abigail first met her in the late spring, but other than that, she was cordial and professional. Abigail chalked that up partly to personality and partly to the stress on Fran's department. However, as the months had passed, she noticed that Fran seemed to become more reserved and aloof. Abigail's conversations with long-time employees of the hospital showed that it wasn't always the case; that the director had always been very ... even, with the same mix of casual involvement for years.

Fran was now withdrawing from her department emotionally, insisting on keeping things focused on business during business hours. Abigail was able to see past the front that Fran put up, beyond the symptoms, and was desirous to confront the root problem, which had nothing to do with work. In her short time at Overlake, she'd come to like and respect Fran. Trying to help her friend was the least she could do.

When Abigail reached the office, she didn't even hesitate to open the closed door. Leaving things on Fran's desk was a common occurrence. As soon as she swung the door open, she saw Fran sitting at her desk. Her head whipped up in surprise and she quickly started wiping her face.

"Oh, um, I'm sorry, Fran," Abigail said apologetically. "I thought you were in a meeting."

She started to close the door.

"No, it's OK, Abigail. Come in."

Abigail hesitated, looking at her boss. Fran was wiping her nose with a tissue. Her bloodshot eyes and splotchy face told Abigail everything she needed to know.

"I brought the ombudsman document over for your review," Abigail said softly, as stood in front of Fran's desk. "Fran, are you OK?"

"I'm fine," she said. "I, um ... Thank you, yes. I'll review the document and have edits to you by the end of the day."

Abigail set the paper on the desk, but instead of leaving, she sat in the seat across the desk from Fran. She remained silent as she watched her boss. Fran began to fidget uncomfortably. After several minutes of silence, Abigail leaned forward.

"Please talk to me, Fran. Something is wrong. I'd like to help, if I can."

Fran waved in dismissal. "It's ... it's nothing. They're personal issues that I shouldn't be worrying about at work. My apologies for bringing them into the office. They really aren't issues anyone else needs to concern themselves with."

"No apologies necessary, Fran, but I am concerned. You haven't been yourself lately."

Fran started to defend herself, but Abigail held her hand up.

"You haven't. I'm not the only one that sees it."

Fran slumped a bit, an odd reaction from a woman who had the most rigid posture Abigail had ever seen.

"Then, I truly am sorry."

"It's all right, Fran. No one's really upset." Abigail chose to keep Jerry's words to herself. "We're just worried about you. I'm worried about you. I'd like to help, as a friend, if I can."

Fran appeared conflicted, apparently warring within herself as to whether or not to cross that line between a professional and personal relationship with Abigail. Finally, she gave a sad smile. "I appreciate that, Abigail, really, though. There's nothing that you can do."

"I can at least listen. I'm told I'm a good listener."

Fran hesitated as if trying to find the right words. "I'm ... my partner and I are going through some things at home. We have a few challenges were working through, but there's nothing that she and I can't work through together."

Abigail masked her surprise. Partner? She? Fran was ... gay? She decided that was irrelevant to the conversation, but it was interesting nonetheless. She smiled warmly.

"Well, that type of commitment between two people can work wonders."

Fran nodded, her eyes taking on a wistful look. "Yes. Yes, it can. But really, Abigail, we're fine. I'm sure things will work themselves out soon enough and I'll be back to my normal cheery self."

Abigail almost laughed, but quickly bit her tongue. Cheery was never the word one would use to describe Fran. Fran chuckled, and Abigail realized that Fran actually made a joke. Abigail really did laugh this time.

"Well, I'm always willing to help, if I can, even if it is just to listen. I'll keep you and..."

"Margaret ... Margie..." Fran shifted uncomfortably. Having such a personal conversation obviously was out of her comfort zone.

"I'll keep you and Margie in my prayers."

Seth stood back and waited his turn, but he couldn't help but smirk.

"Thanks, Mr. Williams," the tiny, sexy blonde co-ed said as she stashed her book in her backpack. "I get it now."

Her two friends stood next to her and watched the interaction between Blondie and their instructor. All three giggled at the little humor Jack weaved into his casual conversation. Seth took a moment to admire the three delicious rumps as they swayed out of the classroom.

"Damn, Teach," Seth said.

He leaned back to watch them as long as he could before they disappeared around the corner at the end of the hall. He turned to Jack, who was chuckling at Seth's behavior.

"I have a proposition for you, Williams. I'll take your lovely wife off your hands so you can freely pursue one of those ... well, damn hot admirers. Deal?"

Jack smiled. "Sorry, Seth. Why don't you take a shot at one of them instead?"

"Those three? Nah, they're just girls. I want a woooman."

"Well," Jack laughed, "I already have a 'woooman, ' so I'm good."

Seth sighed. "Lucky bastard."

This was typical of Seth's post class interaction with his favorite instructor. After realizing that the sexy brunette that caught his attention the previous spring was Jack's wife, he knew he didn't stand a chance. That didn't mean he couldn't tease the couple about his infatuation. He flirted with Abigail each time she came to meet Jack after class and she flirted in return, but they all knew it was just in good fun. Seth's infatuation with Abigail had turned into brotherly affection, and his respect for the couple continued to grow each time he saw them together.

He looked back at Jack, who had a silly smile on his face.

"Yeah, I am a lucky bastard, aren't I?"

"So we on for tomorrow? Ready to take another whoopin'?"

"Of course, I love to be abused." Jack waggled his eyebrows.

"Oooh. Kinky, but I'd appreciate it if you'd save it for the bedroom."

Seth's cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out.

"Yeah?

"Dude, where's the extra key to your car?" came his roommate's frantic voice. "I got to pick up this hot chick in like 15 minutes."

"Did you look through my desk drawers?"

"Yeah, Man. Twice."

"Well, that's where I put it."

Seth rolled his eyes at Jack, who shook his head and chuckled.

"It's not there. I'm telling you, I looked twice. Seth, you got to get over here and give me your other key."

"Well, hell. Fine, I'm on my way."

"When can you be here?"

"A couple of minutes, Man. Jeez, I said I'm on my way."

He disconnected and slipped the phone back in his pocket.

"Well, I'd love to stay and chat, Teach, but my roommate is having a crisis, so I need to make a rescue."

"Get out here, then. I'm tired of looking at your ugly mug."

Seth pulled his bag up higher on his shoulder and left the room. As he burst out of the doors of the building, he almost ran straight into a startled girl. A very hot, startled girl.

"Excuse me," he said, apologetically.

The brunette, who appeared to be a freshman at best, smiled at him.

"That's OK. You just scared me a bit."

He almost caved to habit and began to flirt, but his roommate's panicked voice echoed in his head. Instead he held the door open, bowed to the girl and motioned into the building.

"Thanks," she said with a smile.

Just as before, he watched her until she disappeared around a corner, her tight jeans showing of her very sexy ass. He sighed and bounded down the steps. Just then his phone rang again. It was his roommate.

"I'm coming, I said!"

"It's good, Man. I found the key."

"Where was it?"

"In your desk drawer."

Seth held the phone away from his ear and pretended to scream into it. He put it back to his ear. "I told ... Shit, just don't wreck the thing, OK?"

"I'll keep my eyes on the road and my hands on the wheel."

"No, you won't. I hope the girl sees your true colors and slams the door in your face before it's too late."

"Thanks, Man, I owe you."

"Whatever."

Seth stuffed the phone in his pocket. He scowl slowly turned into a grin. Without another thought, he headed back in the building in search of the cute brunette, hoping beyond hope that he could find her. Most of the classrooms were empty, though a few students milled about. He almost skipped his classroom, but instead poked his head in to tell Jack that he was on the prowl again. His words froze on his lips, and his heart sank to the floor.

He found the brunette. She was in the arms of his favorite instructor, who just happened to be married to one of his favorite ladies. He watched for a bit, just to be sure he wasn't misinterpreting what he saw. It was quickly clear there was only one way to interpret it.

Her arms were wrapped tightly around Jack's neck and his around her waist. He was leaning back onto his desk, his hands full of her sweet little ass pulling her body tight to his. They were kissing passionately, and continued to do so for a long time. There was no doubt that they were lovers, and well acquainted lovers at that. Seth went from shocked, to dejected, to angry, as he watched. When they broke the kiss, he stepped back quickly so he wouldn't be seen. His heart was thumping.

'Fuck!' he thought.

He quickly retreated out of the building, his mind in turmoil. He couldn't believe it. Jack was cheating on Abigail. That fucking bastard was cheating on her! Seth didn't know how to react. Should he confront Jack? Should he tell Abigail? Should he just butt out? He liked Abigail too much to do the last, but he had no idea how to deal with this.

"Fuck!" he hissed quietly, as he hurried across the campus.

Abigail parked her car and started walking across the parking lot to the bank of mailboxes to retrieve the mail. She looked up into the gray, gloomy sky. Just as she approached, Mary Jones appeared from in front of the mailboxes.

"Hi, Mary," Abigail said, warmly.

Her shy neighbor gave a little smile in return.

"How are you feeling today?" Abigail asked.

Mary shuffled her feet in discomfort, her skittishness magnified whenever Evelyn wasn't present.

"I, um, I'm a little better," she answered, a nervous warble in her voice. "The doctor says I can start exercising again, so Evelyn said I should come get the mail."

Abigail smiled. Mary was not only shy, but she was often "ill", slowed up by one ailment or another. Abigail hated to label the sweet woman a hypochondriac, but the truth of the matter was that her illnesses were pretty hard to substantiate. Evelyn, Mary's partner, and the more outgoing of the pair, sweetly handled all of Mary's medical issues, providing just enough sympathy to appease Mary while helping her mend. That she questioned the validity of Mary's medical problems was evident in her tone of voice or her facial expressions whenever the topic of Mary's health came up. The most recent issue was some problem with pain in her knee.

"Well, I'm glad you're up and about."

"Um, yes. Thank you."

The sound of paper tearing drew both women's eyes down to Mary's hands. Her constant fidgeting has ripped the front page of their Fred Meyer circular. Mary's eyes got big.

"Oh!" she squeaked. "Oh, my."

She shoved the circular in Abigail's direction.

"Will you, um..." She shook the circular anxiously. "Um, please..."

Abigail slowly reached up and took the circular. Almost immediately, Mary's anxiety lessened.

"Is everything OK?" Abigail asked.

"Yes, thank you."

"Do you want this back?" Abigail held the paper up.

Mary shook her head emphatically. "Oh, no. Paper cut, you know? While I'm on my blood thinner ... that's a problem."

Abigail smiled again, then mentally chastised herself for finding joviality in Mary's situation.

"I'll just put it in the garbage for you."

Mary's eyes widened. "Oh, no. Please recycle it."

Abigail nodded. "Yes. Yes, of course, Mary."

Mary glanced up at her apartment, then back at Abigail. She shuffled a step closer to the building.

"Um ... Um, I should go in now so I don't get too tired."

"Have a good night, Mary."

Mary nodded and quickly hurried away. Abigail watched her until she disappeared in the stairwell, then grabbed her own mail from the box. She flipped through the stack as she walked slowly back to her car. The normal stuff. Bills for the electricity and their credit card, Crate & Barrel catalog for Analise, National Geographic for Jack, Fred Meyer circular for whoever did the shopping this week. Her attention was drawn to the only oddity of the stack—an envelope from the Greater Nashville Women's Health Clinic. It was addressed to Jack.

She stopped at the rear driver's side door of her car and stared in confusion at the envelope. She stuffed the rest of the mail between her elbow and her side and tore open the correspondence. The single sheet of paper appeared to be an invoice for services for prenatal checkups on a variety of dates over the last six months, the most recent being earlier that month. Now she was really confused. What was this all about? Just then Jack's car turned into the lot. He blew kisses to Abigail as he rolled slowly past her and into his place a few spots down from hers.