Doctor Clause (Doctors of Eastport General)

Chapter Ten

Stephen

She was nowhere to be found—not in his office—not in the cafeteria. Where else would she be? Sadly, that was almost the full extent of his knowledge of her. They hadn’t even exchanged contact information.

The moms’ club!

She was a member. Maybe that’s where she was hiding. Too bad that was on the one floor he never visited: the pediatric ward.

It wasn’t that he disliked children. They were like other people, only smaller. It was the questions they came up with which were brutal, plus, during the most magical time of the year, they had a tendency to ask for things he wasn’t able to give.

They wanted to go home for the holidays.

They wanted to play with other kids.

They wanted to go to school.

They wanted all the things healthy children took for granted.

He was just a regular doctor. Those things were well out of his reach. No red sack contained magical cures. If it were possible, he would have happily spread that sort of cheer on every floor and then some. It wasn’t though. That’s why he never visited the children’s wing. That’s why he only treated adults. While still sad, losing someone who’d already lived a full life was easier than watching youth lose their battles, day after day.

Abandoning his own rules, he was already there, moving swiftly through the corridor to the waiting area. A set of double doors pulled open.

“Leeona?”

The room fell silent, a half-dozen sets of curious eyes glaring back at him. Most were probably wondering what his relationship with Leeona was. There were also a few slowly undressing him. The difference between the two types of leers was obvious.

“She’s not here,” one woman stated firmly. “We haven’t seen her all morning. Might I ask, are you the newest calendar doctor?”

He nodded. “Do you know where I can find her?”

“Have you tried her son’s room?” another woman suggested. “She spends a lot of time there. It’s to be expected, of course.”

“Thank you,” he replied, backing out rather than turning around. Part of him was quite leery about the group, which was intensely eyeing him up and down. There was even a bit of drool action happening. His butt certainly wasn’t there for their amusement. Smacking or pinching was strictly prohibited, at least by that group. For Leeona, allowances could be made.

Ever since he joined the staff at Eastport General, there’d been plenty of cougars chasing him. One elderly group in particular, staying at the SunSleep, actually mistook him for a role-playing stripper. Once grandma latched on, she wasn’t letting go. That night was going to haunt the corridors of the hotel until the end of days as their biggest scandal. It took four large security guards, and a call to the local police, to clear up the misunderstanding. The mishap ended all future group discount rates, hen parties, and stag-and-doe events on the property.

Dirty old ladies aside, he wasn’t opposed to nakedness. Looking at another human form was a healthy part of life. Being aroused by an attractive body was a normal response. Touching without permission was a totally different situation. There lay his dilemma with Leeona. She’d consented, but to what? He wasn’t sure she even knew. Until she directly asked him for his involvement, it was hands-off.

“Look don’t touch,” he mused, arriving at his destination.

Leeona’s son’s room was easy enough to find. In fact, he’d already located it during the long walk to the moms’ support team at the very end of the corridor.

Despite being semi-private, there was only one bed occupied. That wasn’t uncommon for any cancer ward. It was a brutal disease, which resulted in a large turnover of patients. One day there’d be a neighbour to chat with, the next an empty bed with new sheets. Sometimes there wasn’t even enough time for neighbours to exchange names.

“Hi,” he gleefully said, entering as if he were visiting one of his own patients. “How are you today?” Instantly, the visit became less about Leeona and more about her son. Maybe it was the child’s appearance; the delicate skin under his eyes unnaturally darkened, sunken, and hollow. That was the only colour to be found on an otherwise pale complexion.

“Who are you?” the boy replied, face expressionless. “A new doctor? No one mentioned anything about seeing someone new.”

“You’re Tommy, right?”

The thin child nodded slowly, without saying a word.

“I’m a friend of your mom’s,” he said, pulling up a chair. The physician in him glanced over at a chart hanging on the end of the bed. It wasn’t his place to look though. He had no right to interfere. “Has she been in today?”

“No.” Chapped lips pursed together. “She was supposed to be here a while ago.” He shrugged. “Something probably happened.”

“Like what?” he asked.

“I dunno,” the boy snapped. “Maybe the car broke down again. Maybe she got a speeding ticket. Maybe she just got caught up in some charity work.” He went back to staring out the window at nothing in particular.

“You’re pretty calm for your age,” he said.

“Not really,” Tommy sighed. “I’m just bored. There’s nothing to do here but wait for the next dose of medicine. The meals aren’t even worth looking forward to. I hate food now. I used to love my mom’s cooking.”

“She’s a good cook?” Stephen asked.

His head slowly nodded, expression remaining blank. “From what I remember.” He paused, heaving a sigh. “It all tastes like cardboard now.”

His thumb jutted out, pointing toward the door. “Do you want me to grab you a book or maybe get you a puzzle?”

“Nah,” Tommy replied. “I’ve read them all, and the puzzles are missing pieces.”

“Oh.” Once again hospital protocols of not throwing anything away were in full play. “What about a toy?”

“There aren’t any,” Tommy answered. “Unless you count the waiting room ones. I don’t. Most of them are broken, or for really small kids.”

“Right.” He never considered what it meant to be a child stuck in Eastport General before. The hospital prioritized medical needs over books, toys, artwork, and even magazines. It never crossed his mind or anyone else’s, other than the moms’ club, how dull that was.”

For adults, there was no need to provide activities. They came, waited, had their appointments and, for the most part, left. Those who needed extended stays owned smartphones or tablets to pass the time when they weren’t resting.

“Can I get you a magazine from the shop in the lobby?” he suggested, thumb sticking out, pointing toward the door.

“No,” Tommy replied. “I’d just flip through it and then toss it. It’s not worth wasting money. If you want to do something for me, do it for everyone. We are all on the same journey, going to the same destination, and taking the same boring route getting there.”

Tommy was beyond his years in wisdom.

He glanced over the boy once more. “It was nice to meet you, Tommy. I hope we can talk again some time.”

“You!” Jordan exclaimed from the doorway, before strutting in like a runway model. “What are you doing here? Where is Leeona?”

“I don’t know,” Stephen said, pointing. “But you are just the person I wanted to see.”

Jordan’s newly pencilled-on eyebrows arched. “I am?”

“You are,” he replied. “Come with me.”

“Ha-ha,” Jordan chuckled. “I thought you’d never ask.” He walked quickly, taking small steps while keeping up to the doctor leading the way. “Where, exactly, are we going?”

“To the parking garage.” Hands folded together after pushing the button for sub-level one. “This way.” One hand motioned for the orderly to exit the elevator first.

“This is all so sudden,” Jordan said. “I wasn’t expecting this sort of invitation. Are you sure I’m the one you need?”

“Quite,” he replied. The back hatch of his Jeep opened, both arms reaching in. “Here. What do you think?”

“Ducks?” Jordan said. “They are adorable, but I’m not sure why you are giving them to me. Roses might be a better touch.”

“What would kids do with roses?” he snapped.

“Oh. Ohh.” Jordan’s mouth remained open. “You want to give these to the kids to play with. I get you.” He nodded, cracking a half-smile. “S. Clause to the rescue.”

“It’s not like that,” he huffed. “I was going to toss these out anyway. I just figured, before going to the landfill, maybe someone else could make use of them.” He glanced away. “Do you think the kids would want them?”

“Heck yeah,” Jordan answered. “They will love them. Believe it or not, their wish lists are pretty tame. Trust me, I’ve seen them. Anything will bring a smile to those little faces.” The box juggled in his arms. “You’re okay, Dr. Clause.” The box lifted. “I’ll go drop these off at the nurses’ station.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled. “I have work to do.”

And a certain mom to find.