Wildflower Hearts

2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

I t wasn’t until six hours later that she took her first break. Lyla sat in the break room and lowered her coffee on the table. She closed her eyes, leaning back against the cold metal of the seat, and waited for the hot liquid to cool. Her feet and back ached, but she couldn’t complain. She loved her job. The feeling she was helping those who couldn’t help themselves motivated her to keep going. It made her feel useful and needed, things she didn’t feel anywhere else.

“You’re wasting your time with these people,” her mother’s voice echoed through her ears. “They’re below you, Lyla. You should be ashamed.”

She grabbed her coffee cup. She checked the clock on the wall: ten more minutes left. She stared at the liquid and watched steam steadily rise.

“Look at your sister; she’s enjoying her life, not gallivanting into some disease-infested hospital with silly fantasies of saving the world. Do you really think you’re doing any good? So, you save one person? It doesn’t help the millions suffering around the world, does it?” The cold chuckle still echoed through her mind. “Come home before you embarrass this family more than you already have.”

Four months had passed since she had spoken to her mother. She had done a complete one-eighty from what her parents desired, a daughter who threw herself into helping others and being in places most wouldn’t have volunteered. She donated her time to homeless shelters, worked at Salvation Army food drives, and helped with the local blood drives. They were appalled when she applied to a school for nursing instead of business like they wanted. She wasn’t interested in their high life of fame and fortune, making money to blow on expensive things and partying all the time. Instead, she turned down offers to join the family business and help run one of the largest family-owned corporations in the city. Her father prided himself on providing jobs in the manufacturing of electronic devices and automobiles for what he considered low-income families.

Her sister, however, was sucked into the life of glitter and lies, becoming Mother’s perfect carbon copy and doing anything in her power to be more like her as the days passed. She hadn’t spoken to Amelia in over a year but imagined the worst for the sweet, pigtail-wearing girl she once knew as her big sister. At times, she wasn’t sure who had it worse: herself who lived daily on her paycheck, or her sister who would one day find that she was alone, surrounded by money that didn’t give her the advice she desperately needed.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, Lyla finished her coffee and tossed the empty cup into the trashcan by the door. She headed for the outside employee lounge, the electronic doors opening and shutting swiftly behind her.

The Chief of Medicine sat there alone. Dr. Bruce Stewart was nice-looking for a man in his late forties with chiseled solid cheekbones, dark eyes that were always twinkling, and a strong nose that accentuated his face. He had been nice to her since she had taken a job there almost seven years ago, quickly becoming the father figure she never had. He was unmarried, and she constantly teased him for spending too much time at the hospital. He always twisted it back around, blaming her lone ranger status on her desire to help patients no matter how busy she was.

Smiling, he waved her over to join him. “Lyla, it’s a surprise to see you out here. I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t.” She sat across from him. “I thought some fresh air could do me some good. Why are you out here? I know that you don’t smoke. You teach annual lectures against it down at the university.”

He chuckled and fidgeted with his glasses that rested on the bridge of his nose. “You’re correct. I’m on active duty.”

“Doing what?”

“Catching smokers unaware in their natural habitat.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “I must warn you; they’ve been known to sway even the strongest protester over to the dark side.”

“How are things? I noticed you clocked in late today. That’s unlike you. What does that make it? Your first tardy in three years?”

“It’d be my second tardy in four years,” she admitted sheepishly. “My first tardy happened six months after I started on thirds when my car broke down.”

“You’re not still driving around that metal form of death on wheels, are you?”

“Thankfully, no. After I graduated from nursing school this past summer, I could afford something a little more… Well, a vehicle with doors on it.”

Bruce chuckled and fidgeted again with his glasses. He always did when he was deep in thought. “You’ve been here since you were fifteen, Lyla. You’ve come far from that volunteer I once knew.”

“Thank you. I enjoy working here.”

“We’re blessed to have someone with such a good heart.”

Face flushing, she glowed from the compliment. “Thank you, Chief Stewart.” She glanced at her watch. “Well, my break is over. I best get back to my patients.”

“It was nice to see you again. Take care of yourself.”

“You, too. It was nice chatting with you.”

“Don’t work yourself too hard.”

She flashed him another smile over her shoulder. “Good luck with your smoker safari hunt.”

He let out a deep chuckle, saluting her. She smiled hello as she passed two registered nurses entering the patio area.

“Sam! John! Come have a seat,” Bruce called out. “Still smoking, I see!”

There was panic all around when she reentered her floor, staff rushing back and forth. Lyla picked up the pace of her steps, eventually breaking into a run past the nurse’s station. She skidded to a halt by Noah Kingsley’s room, catching sight of his brothers and family being detained outside, while nurses and Dr. Moore hovered around the his bed.

She signaled to the family she’d be a minute and dove into the room, cleaning her hands with disinfectant from the wall dispenser. “What’s going on?”

“Patient is experiencing TC syndrome.” Dr. Moore shot instructions at the nurses as Noah shook violently on the bed. “I need you to take position by the patient’s head, Nurse Hamilton.”

She followed directions while the nurses removed all the loose objects from around the bed.

“Let’s move him to a recovery position on the count of three,” he instructed. “One. Two. Three.”

They shifted Noah on the final count onto his injured side. Lyla bent close to his face, checking his mouth to ensure his air passage remained unblocked.

“I need ten ccs of Diazepam!”

A nurse handed him a syringe while another tied a tourniquet around his arm. Everyone went quiet as he tested the vein and injected the shot. He handed back the empty syringe, and they watched Noah’s movements slow, his body relaxing. His chest began to move in and out in a steady rhythm.

“Good work.” He took the clipboard handed to him, scribbling down a few notes. “Nurse Hamilton, I will need you to stay on this floor as much as possible. As you’re aware, we’re running short on staff, so I need you to oversee Mr. Kingsley in the case of any more emergencies.”

“You’re giving me clearance to administer?”

He handed the clipboard to a nurse. “That is, if you think you can handle it. Seven years is enough time to know your way around this hospital blindfolded, don’t you think?”

“Yes, Dr. Moore.”

“Good.” He capped his pen and slid it into his front coat pocket. “You’re in charge of this floor seeing how you have most of the runs until shift change. I will need you to pull a double shift. Are you up to the challenge?”

She wasn’t sure, but she nodded anyway.

“Excellent.” He made his way out of the room, stopping at the door. “Take care of the family. I have another operation I need to oversee.”

Lyla nodded again, and he disappeared into the hall. She glanced around to check that no one was watching and took a moment to jump up and down, shaking the tremors out of her hands. As she calmed down, she took another look at the patient, checking to make sure he was breathing fine and that his IV tubes were unrestricted. Satisfied, she flattened her hands over her scrubs and stepped away from the bed.