--1--
Amanda pulled into a parking spot in the somewhat filled lot and killed the Fiesta’s engine. The plaque on the side of the building read Sellers Family Practice. Daniel had done well in establishing himself within the first ten years of their marriage. Now he was looking to open another facility in Desmond, which was about ten minutes outside of Bersek on the other side of Eton. When it happened, he told Amanda she could stay at home if she wanted and do nothing until her heart was content. She shuddered at the thought and was leaning towards asking him that if things were still hard for her at Sanford, would he be willing to let her work out of the new building.
Daniel was wondering if Amanda had decided to do something else when he saw her car pull into the parking lot. He smiled and continued to peer out the side of the window. Normally when she came by, he would meet her by the front doors. Today, he decided she could have a receptionist page him. He waited until she was on the sidewalk before returning to his desk where he was finishing the dictation of a SOAP report.
Amanda frowned. She wondered if Daniel had forgotten he had asked her to join him for lunch since it was normal for him to be outside when she arrived. Unnerved by the change she opened one of the double glass doors and entered the building. There were about five people in the lobby as she made her way to the front desk. “I’d like to speak to Dr. Sellers.”
A young woman who didn’t look as if she was old enough to drive sat back as if she had been slapped. She stared at Amanda, speechless, and uncertain of what to do after being addressed so sharply. “Do you have an appointment?”
Amanda looked at her as if to say, “Why would I need an appointment?”
“Amanda,” greeted Jane, taking the pressure off her startled coworker. “How nice of you to drop by. I see you’ve met Cathy. She replaced Alice about six months ago.”
Amanda looked at Jane as though she just told her she finished hanging laundry out to dry. “OK,” she said. “Now may I please speak with Dr. Sellers?”
Jane nodded at Cathy who looked like she was on the verge of tears. She had heard a few things about Dr. Sellers’s wife yet meeting her in person was a nasty surprise. Jane put a hand on the girl’s shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze even though she wanted to go back to her desk and not deal with the woman glaring at her. Not for the first time did she wonder if Dr. Sellers had been on drugs when he asked Amanda to marry him when there were more appealing choices out there.
Cathy picked up the receiver and dialed. Her eyes never left Amanda who had turned and was now looking down the hall at her husband’s closed office door. “Was he busy this morning?”
“I’m sorry, Amanda,” Jane said. “I missed that.”
Amanda did not expect to be overheard, yet repeated, “Was he busy this morning?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary.”
Daniel picked up on the third ring. “Hello?”
Cathy put the phone on speaker and hung up the receiver. “Dr. Sellers, Amanda is here to see you.”
“Tell her I’m coming.”
Amanda heard the other line go dead and began to count. It helped soothe her nerves while she waited. A hush had fallen over the lobby which reminded her of Sanford, where the staff walked on tiptoe when they knew she was in the building. “Would you like to sit down, Amanda?”
She looked at Jane almost horrified. She could deal with patients at Sanford because they were incoherent for the most part. The ones in the lobby were not. She shook her head. “I’ll wait outside.”
Now Cathy could breathe. “So that’s Dr. Sellers's wife?”
Jane didn’t bother masking the sneer in her voice. “Charming woman, is she not?”
Cathy's voice shook. “About as friendly as a cobra.”
Jane squeezed the girl’s shoulder once more. “Just be careful, Cathy. As rude as she is, she’s brilliant. I admire Dr. Sellers for tolerating her.”
They heard a door close and looked down the hall. The soles of Daniel's shoes were soft on the white and blue tiles. He had taken off his lab coat and straightened his tie as he made his way to the front desk. Cathy almost swooned at the way his eyes lit up when he smiled. “Where’s Amanda?”
Cathy’s face fell. “She went outside to wait for you.”
Daniel frowned. He hadn’t kept her waiting long. The least she could do was wait for him. “I’ll be back.”
He saw Amanda standing by his car watching a couple of squirrels fighting over a small pile of acorns scattered at the base of an oak tree that shaded a picnic table in the summer. It was where Daniel could be found eating his lunch or dictating reports during the warmer months. “I thought you’d be inside.”
Amanda didn’t bother to excuse her actions or offer a reason as to why she went out and he didn’t expect one. She had felt uncomfortable, nothing more. “Where are we going?”
“Want Italian?”
Amanda nodded. “Florentino’s has the best calamari.”
Daniel walked over and kissed her on the cheek. Amanda pulled away fast, but not before he did. He knew how she felt about showing affection in any type of public setting, no matter how small. She watched as he unlocked the passenger side and held the door open so she could get in. After he shut the door, Amanda leaned over and pulled up the button on his side. It was a small act that assured him his wife cared about him, even though it was almost impossible for her to show it physically.
At Florentino’s, the hostess was familiar with the couple and led them to a table in the back, away from the lunch crowd. She handed them menus and took their drink orders. Daniel opted for Coke and Amanda asked for the same. She wrote it down, starting their tab then excused herself so they could view the lunch specials. “I don’t know what I want today,” Amanda sighed. “Why don’t you order for both of us?”
“Alright.”
They sat in silence as Daniel studied the menu. There was nothing under the lunch specials that sounded good to him. “Maybe you should look under dinners,” Amanda suggested, then went on to explain she would probably not be home again until late after going into Sanford.
“I do hope you are going to be home before 9:00.”
Amanda shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m going to try to talk to the patient when I get in and I want to do it when Wilson isn’t around. Maybe she’ll talk if he’s not there.”
A waiter approached their table with their drinks and asked if they had decided. Daniel placed their order and then turned back to Amanda. “Do you think he’s doing something to her?”
“It’s possible,” she sighed. Nicholas had been in trouble before and Dr. Thompson had almost fired him. She did not know what made the medical director change his mind, but things had calmed down afterward. Then he retired and Amanda stepped into his position, and less than two months she could feel the established peace of her predecessor begin to crumble. “I don't think it was wise to take Dr. Thompson's position.”
Her last statement almost didn’t reach Daniel’s ears due to the sound of silverware being dropped into a tub from a nearby table being bussed. His hand reached out and caressed her cheek. “Amanda," he said. "Dr. Thompson never would have asked you if he didn't think you could do it."
In an uncharacteristic gesture, she covered his hand with hers, squeezed it, and kissed his palm. “Thank you,” she said. “For believing in me.”
Daniel sat back, stunned. “Of course, Mand. Why wouldn’t I?”
She shrugged. “It gets hard sometimes, you know? I think Dr. Thompson should have picked someone else.”
“Look at me, Mand,” he said, gripping her chin when she tried to pull away. “He wouldn’t have made you the medical director if he didn’t think you could do it. He thought that highly of you.”
Amanda’s look was one of exasperation, yet her tone was flat. “I’m not liked, Daniel. You know that.”
He shrugged. “So what? Are you there to make friends or are you there for the patients?”
Her smile was small and tight. “Why did you ask me to marry you?”
His smile was tighter. “Why did you say yes?”
--2--
Amanda stood in front of her desk. Her meeting with Samantha had left her drained and frustrated. The hope Dr. Thompson had for the brain-fried, acid junkie amazed her, yet she understood why Dr. Wilson’s notes read the way they did. He was right in saying the patient was reticent and monosyllabic at best. It didn’t make sense to her how the years of progress Dr. Thompson had made with Samantha could fall apart so rapidly.
Amanda looked over the notes she had taken which were similar to Dr. Wilson’s observations. She then reread through the ones she had taken while she was talking to Pamela. The words dirty whore sprung out at her. Was Daniel right about Nicholas behaving inappropriately towards Samantha? And if he was, what was she the only one?
She looked at the seemingly benign, wooden rod close by in the corner of her office. Had Dr. Thompson put his away when he talked to his patients or just put it out of view, yet within reach? Maybe Samantha had felt threatened to see it within her grasp, though in all her time at Sanford, she saw no need to use it and often reprimanded the nursing staff if she felt a patient was being struck for undue purpose. The only time rods were to be used was if a patient became aggressive towards them.
Amanda took a bite of her leftover, cold chicken Alfredo and chewed in time with the gears grinding in her head. She put her fork down and called the nurse’s station as an idea began to take shape. The answer was there. Of that she was certain. It was just a matter of finding it. “Is Pamela there?”
The pause was brief before the receiver thunked on the desk. In the distance, she heard the person who answered the phone calling out the nurse’s name. A moment later she was speaking in the mouthpiece, “Nurse Horscham.”
“It’s Dr. Blake. Come to my office.”
There was something about the tone in the medical director’s voice which she didn’t like. It made her want to quit. “Yes, Dr. Blake.”
She hung up the receiver and walked to Amanda’s office.
Amanda had opened her door so Pamela wouldn’t have to knock. “You wanted to see me?”
“Shut the door, please, and have a seat.”
‘Hello to you too,’ the nurse thought, clenching her jaw. The metal rungs of the chair scraped across the wooden floor as she pulled it out and sat down. Amanda picked up a glass, filled it with the pitcher of water, and handed it to her. Pamela’s look of surprise did not go unnoticed as she relaxed. “Thank you, Dr. Blake.”
Amanda nodded. “The reason I called you in, Pamela, is because I’m still concerned about Samantha. I was wondering if Dr. Wilson ever talked about his sessions with her to other staff members.”
She chewed her lip as she gave it some thought. “Not that I’m aware of. He did escort her back to her room after he gave her a shot.”
“Yes. You said he took her back to her room and told you to take care of the scissors. Did Matthews go with him?”
“I honestly don’t remember.”
“Do you know what days he sees her?”
Pamela looked puzzled. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
Amanda sighed. “I was wondering if you knew anything about his schedule with her.”
The nurse shook her head. “No. Would you like me to find out?”
Dr. Blake sat back against her chair and peered down her nose at Nurse Horscham. It could be seen as if she was trying to spy on Nicholas if she didn’t have a reasonable cause, especially when the one who held the true secrets was a former drug addict. “No,” she sighed. “It bothers me how she was able to obtain the scissors. She said, ‘Tray,’ when you asked her where she got them?”
“Yes Dr. Blake,” Pamela answered. She looked down at her hands clasped in her lap while her chewed nails dug into the soft flesh of her palm.
“Did she seem out of sorts before I got here?”
‘You mean besides her messed up haircut,’ she thought but was wise enough to hold her tongue. She shook her head. “She seemed alright.”
“Hmm.” Amanda pursed her lips. The clock on her desk read 7:42. In 18 minutes the patients would receive their final round of medication and the lights would be dimmed. She pulled out a lab slip from her top drawer. “See that Samantha has this done.”
“Yes, Dr. Blake.”
Amanda got up and waited by the door for Nurse Horscham. Pamela hurried past her austere superior and headed towards the nurses’ station. Amanda went to the small office where the medical records were kept. She unlocked the door, turned on the light, and walked over to the file cabinet. The wheels sounded dull against the metal track as she pulled out the drawer and paused at the end with a hitch. Amanda ran her hand over the documents' labels until she came to Collins, Samantha.
She pulled out the thick folder, placed it on the only table in the room, and sat down. Instead of reading through the notes again, she found herself studying the medication list. She looked at the ones Samantha was currently getting and compared them to the Lithium Dr. Thompson had her on. She let go of the papers and sat back. The uncomfortable steel back of the metal chair seeped through her lab coat. The breath from her nose was heavy with frustration as she ran her finger over the documented medication administered for the day. She frowned and looked at what was written. Whoever had applied the correction fluid had done it with a meticulous hand that was almost flawless. The discovery left her head reeling.
Amanda’s heart thudded against her chest as she scribbled a hasty note in Samantha’s chart before she put it back and slammed the drawer shut with more force than she intended. The click had the impact of a gun being fired as she turned the key in the cabinet’s lock and heard the tumblers fall into place. She switched off the light, locked the door, and headed to the nurses’ station, the squeak of her rubber soles pronounced against the tiles.
Nurse Matthews was at the desk when Amanda approached. “Dr. Blake, is everything alright?”
“No,” she snapped. “Did Samantha have her blood drawn?”
“Yes. It’s in the lab.”
Amanda’s lips were pursed tight enough to make the pale outline of her mouth whiter. “I want the results before noon. Am I clear?”
“Yes, Dr. Blake.”
“Starting tomorrow, Samantha is to be back on Lithium 250 milligrams, three times a day. Understood?” Amanda pivoted on her heel and left Nurse Matthews in a state of bewilderment.
