“Tony?”
“Yeah, I know. I just wish I were a lot smarter. I don’twant to hurt her any worse, Andy. She’s hurting a big loadright now, and it’s all my fault.”
“No, it’s not. You keep forgetting.”
“But she was doing okay. She was maintaining, ya know?Kids, a career. Hell, she even has her own business. Andthen I have to come along, and two days later she’s wading around in a major flashback.”
“If it hadn’t been you, it would have been something else.She’s just a lucky lady you were the one there to catch herwhen she fell.”
“I wish I could be sure, Andy. I just wish I could besure.”
“I am. PTSD isn’t something that just goes away, man.You know that. It burrows in like a big, nasty mole and thenpops up the worst possible moment it can. You’ve seen it,I’ve seen it. We can help her. We’ll just have to find somebody who shared her experiences to talk to.”
“From what I found out, she was at the Ninety-first Evacin Chu Lai, ‘69 to ‘70. Can you see if anybody’s aroundfrom that time?”
“I’m on it. In the meantime, cut a little slack for yourself. Everything’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, right. Everything’ll be fine.’’
Tony thought of his own time spent walking back throughthe memories, the heart-stopping flashes of rage and fearand crippling grief that, once released, had damn near controlled him for months. He thought of the fragile balanceClaire kept, of the children she protected from her demons,and he prayed Andy was right. Because PTSD wasn’t amole. It was a monster.
Claire refused to be upset. “It’s not a disaster, Nadine.”The broad black woman who stood before her did so withhands firmly on hips, eyes flashing fire. “You’re gonna fireher this time, aren’t you?”
Claire turned away rather than hit this head-on. Besides,she needed some aspirin. “Not my decision to make. I’mjust supposed to let the real boss know when she gets back tomorrow. In the meantime, since Barbara decided onceagain to stay home without explanation, until I can get somehelp up here, I’ll take her patients.”
“You already have two of your own,” her co-workercountered.
Claire got her aspirin from the med prep and washed themdown with cold coffee. “And you have three. So does everybody else. We’ll figure something out. We always do.”
Nadine harrumphed and yanked her stethoscope from around her neck. “Well, I’m glad they’re payingyouthe bigbucks and not me, girlfriend.”
Claire’s laugh was as dry as dust. “Oh, yeah. Me, too.Part-time supervisor’ssomuch more fun than the full-timekind.”
Nadine was all set to head back for the rest of her reportwhen she stopped. Claire could sense it even as she pulledout a paper towel to clean off the already-clean counter area.
“Honey?” Nadine asked, her voice low enough that theother people who bustled through the busy intensive-careunit didn’t hear. “You okay?”
Claire didn’t so much as sigh. She just turned around togive her friend a smile. “I’m just tired. Late night with therestaurant.”
Nadine wasn’t pleased. “You quittin’ here soon?”
“You that anxious to get rid of me?”
“I’m that anxious for you to stop looking so damn tired and pale all the time.”
Claire mugged for her friend. “And miss all this? Don’t be silly. I’d be bored to tears.”
Nadine rolled her expressive eyes. “Well, God knows wewouldn’t want you to be bored.”
“Exactly. Now, if memory serves me, we have guests atthis party who haven’t been introduced yet.”
Nadine took the hint and went to see her patients. Clairedidn’t. Not quite yet. She had to call down to the house supervisor to try to wheedle for a little extra help, and shedidn’t want anyone to see that her hand was shaking as shepicked up the telephone.
“Hello, Marianne?” she answered the terse greeting on the other end. “This is Claire up in ICU. One of my nursesdidn’t show up today, and there’s a full house. Could weborrow one of the techs from over in surgical?”
Claire knew she was in trouble when the supervisorsighed. The supervisor always sighed when she consideredone of her nurses to be taking advantage of her. Clairefound herself biting back an expression of frustration evenbefore she heard the verdict.
“You know better than this,” Marianne Parkinson chastised with that long-suffering tone that so endeared her toher charges. “If you want extra help, you have to notify mebefore seven.”
