Aunt Opal had also come through the worst of it, but she would remain in Overdale Isolation Hospital for a few more weeks. If Ivy hadn’t sent her to hospital when she had...
A tiny shudder, and she worked up a smile for her three-year-old patient. “Be sure to drink all your milk, Penny, so you grow big and strong.”
A knock on the examination room door. “Another patient, Ivy.”
The third time Fern had interrupted, and Ivy stiffened. “In a minute, Mrs. Le Corre.”
“I’m sorry to be such a bother.” Mary Surcouf wrestled her daughter’s arms into a tiny blanket coat. She blinked rapidly, her eyes red.
Ivy settled a hand on Mary’s arm. “You are never a bother. You love your daughter, and you’ve been worried about her.”
She nodded a trembling chin. “I—I thought I was going to lose her.”
They’d come dangerously close. “Look how much better she is.”
“Thank you.” With a watery smile, Mary departed with her daughter on her hip.
Out in the surgery’s waiting room, Fern stood before a seated young man. “I do apologize. Ivy is running late again. I’m afraid she’s rather easily distracted.”
Ivy gapedat her sister.Aunt Ruby said she’d talked to Fern about this. All Ivy wanted was harmony in the family, but Fern kept striking discordant notes.
The young man stared at Ivy. “I—I’ll come back another day.” He dashed out the front door.
Fern clucked her tongue as she returned to the receptionist’s desk. “We can’t afford to keep losing patients due to your tardiness.”
Struggling for words, Ivy glanced at her wristwatch. “I’m only ten minutes behind.”
Fern sat and wrote in the appointment book. “He didn’t want to wait.”
Ivy squeezed her eyes shut. After she prayed, she smoothed her white coat and approached her sister’s desk. Fern had styled her sable hair in a fashionable roll framing her lovely face, and Ivy unstuck her tongue from the back of her teeth. “He didn’t leave because he had to wait. He left because you made me sound unprofessional.”
Fern’s mouth puckered on one side as if to say that Ivy had brought it on herself.
No, she hadn’t. “You called me ‘Ivy,’ not ‘Dr. Picot,’ although I’ve reminded you not to do so—and although I always call you ‘Mrs. Le Corre.’”
Long black eyelashes fluttered. “It’s hardly—”
“You said I was easily distracted. That doesn’t inspire confidence in me as a doctor.”
“Then make a better effort.”
Ivy’s hands coiled at her sides. “I am never distracted when seeing patients. They have my full attention, which is why I took longer with Mrs. Surcouf. She needed reassurance after her little girl almost died.”
“You have more than one patient.” Fern waved a hand toward the door. “Well, you did until Mr. Wilson left.”
All her life, Fern had sloughed blame off her own back and onto Ivy’s. Not today. Ivy wiggled her shoulders to release the weight. “He left because you belittled me.”
Fern gasped. “How can you speak to me like that?”
“How can you speakaboutme like that?” Ivy’s voice strengthened.
“We don’t have time for this.” Fern shoved back her chair and stood. “You need to start your rounds.”
Ivy braced herself against the desk. She’d seen patients in the surgery for four hours straight. “After lunch.”
“You’ll have to eat on the way.” Fern handed Ivy her timetable and marched toward the kitchen. “I prepared your lunch.”
Ivy scanned the timetable as she walked. This was all wrong. She’d told Fern home visits required thirty minutes. With all the niceties, they took longer than appointments in the surgery, with the offer of tea and the polite refusal, the decision on where to sit, and the “never mind the cat.”
