On Saturday
morning at a few minutes after ten, Eric left his apartment. Moments later, his sneakers slapped against
the asphalt surface of the path leading to Community Park
Today promised to be as hot as
Eastlake Community would be if the problems that beaded like the sweat on his
forehead weren’t solved. For an instant,
he allowed himself to regret the injury that had ended his career as a cop and
his decision to become a nurse, the way his father and a number of ex-cops he
knew had done. During the week since his
arrival, he’d asked himself a dozen times why he’d listened to Sam and applied
for the position as Director of Nursing.
“Something fishy’s going on. I’m not sure who, what or why. You’ve got the training to dig out the info.”
In the past week, he’d learned a
number of facts, but none were illegal.
The nurse managers and supervisors couldn’t see or didn’t care about the
signs of unrest among
the
nurses. Sometimes, he thought
administration was the problem. But
since their contracts protected them, he couldn’t fire the lot.
He emerged from the tree-sheltered
path and stopped to let a herd of children charge past. Where was Sam and where was the
ballfield? His buddy had volunteered him
as first base umpire for the game between the nurses and a team from the other
departments.
“Eric, over here.”
He jogged toward the picnic table
where Sam sat. The children
returned. With the adroitness he’d once
displayed on the football field, he twisted and evaded until he cleared the
crowd.
“Just like old times, my man.” Sam’s brown hand slapped Eric’s.
“Hardly. Where’s your gaudy uniform?” When Eric had played football, Sam had been a
member of the marching band. He’d also
been pianist for the jazz ensemble. Eric
rested his hands on his thighs until he caught his breath. “I’m too old for this.”
Sam laughed. “At thirty-two? In five minutes, I guarantee you’ll be
rejuvenated.”
“About the game. Fun or serious?”
“A bit of both.” Sam slid from the table. “The captain and pitcher for the nurses is
intense. She likes
to win.”
“Is this a warning?”
Sam’s laughter rolled the way his
fingers moved along the piano keys.
“You’ll see. Wait ‘til you see
her legs. Long and lean and stretching
forever. Simone threatened to blacken my
eyes if I leer. Grab a beer and let’s
go.”
When Eric reached the field, he
forgot the beer. The hospital’s problems
vanished. He put the beer on the ground
several yards from first base and stared at the pitcher. Sam had been on target.
He studied her exceptional legs
until they vanished beneath brief red shorts.
His stare lingered on the white tee short that clung to her small yet
perfect breasts. Sunlight caught the red
glints in her brown hair and turned them into flames. As she moved from the mound, his body
reacted. How was he going to remember he
was her boss?
No comments:
Post a Comment