*****
Prentice, accompanied by a group of interns, completed his rounds. He updated the patient charts, wrote discharge orders for one post-tonsillectomy eight-year-old, then went to his office at Child Protective Services, which was located across the street from the hospital. He knew Alyssa couldn’t be back yet from speaking to the Simmonses landlord, so he left word that he wanted to see her upon her return.
In his office he sat and gave serious thought to the case of Sienna Simmons. It didn’t look like she’d need grafting, and hopefully her scars would fade with time. Her mother’s concern did seem genuine, but something bothered him just the same…
He looked up at the sound of knocking. “Come in.”
Alyssa entered his office. “What did you think?”
“I’m leaning toward recommending foster care.”
“Don’t you think that might be a little harsh, Doctor? There’ve been no prior complaints leveled against these people, nor have they ever been investigated. I was thinking the usual talk about adequate supervision plus the parenting class might be in order. The child’s mother is clearly beside herself, and the rental agent thinks very highly of them. They’ve lived in the same complex for more than six years, moving to a larger apartment when their baby was born. She’s worked at the same company since she graduated from the College of Lake County, and she works for a vice president.”
“How stable is screenwriting?”
Alyssa nodded knowingly. “You’re worried about the father.”
“Yes, the mysterious father who jets off to the Coast for a meeting while his baby girl is lying in a hospital bed.”
“I checked with the E.R. staff. They remember the Simmonses bringing Sienna in. Her father was holding her, shouting for a doctor. He was still there at change of shift.”
“Does anyone at the nurses’ station remember seeing him this morning?”
“Apparently, he was already here at shift change at seven. They’re not sure, but think he might have spent the night in her room. They do remember seeing him leave; he stopped and asked them to take good care of his baby.”
Prentice grunted. “If he was so concerned, you’d think he’d have stayed here instead of flying out to L.A. He left his daughter to cope with her pain without his hand to hold and left his wife to undergo a CPS interview alone.”
“It probably never occurred to them that there’d be an investigation,” Alyssa pointed out. “Only the guilty think about such things.”
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Alyssa. I think the mother isn’t telling us something, and I think it has to do with the father.”
“She’s going to take it very hard if you recommend foster care for Sienna.”
“It’s the child I have to think of, not the mother. And I’m not talking about a permanent situation, just until I’m satisfied about the home environment. Especially with her planning to take the girl out of this jurisdiction.”
“I’ve set up a home inspection for tomorrow.” Alyssa paused. “Do you want to tell me what’s on your mind, Dr. Blake?”
He hesitated a moment. Alyssa had worked with him on previous cases of child abuse, including sexual abuse, and they had discussed sensitive topics before. Social work wasn’t for the squeamish or the coy. “Her explanation about how she and her husband were ‘talking’ when Sienna tipped that pot over. I think they were having sex, or about to, because Sienna was in her room, but she put a crick in their plans by entering their bedroom. That urge would explain why neither of them made sure she went to her own room. They just wanted her out of their hair for a few minutes. They didn’t count on her wandering into the kitchen.”
Alyssa’s forehead wrinkled. “Doesn’t that fall under the category of an accident?”
“Maybe, but here’s another scenario. The child walked in on them, and one of the parents—my guess is the father—thought he’d punish her by taking her to the kitchen and dumping the contents of that pot in her direction.”
“Dr. Blake!” Alyssa recoiled in horror.
“Maybe I’m way off. But it isn’t as though we’ve never seen this type of thing before, and the mother seemed so nervous, like she was hiding something. She might be protecting her husband. And I don’t like the idea of his going out of town the morning after. I mean, he didn’t even wait to ask if he could delay his arrival; he just rushed to catch his plane.”
“Mrs. Simmons’s explanation made sense to me. After being out of work for so long, he didn’t want to jeopardize his new job. Their family has a lot riding on his success. He probably felt it wouldn’t be appropriate to ask for time off for anything less than a death.”
Prentice still wasn’t convinced. “How do we even know the man’s a screenwriter?”
“The woman who works at the rental office of their apartment complex was very helpful. She told me they’re a lovely young couple, and that he’s the one who stays at home with Sienna while the mother works. She said he would give her free copies of magazines that published his short stories.” Alyssa looked at him carefully. “We should probably withhold final judgment until after the home environment is looked at, but Dr. Blake…I honestly think you might be reading something into this that isn’t there.”
Prentice wondered if his own trust issues were affecting his judgment. It was true that he held parents who didn’t protect their offspring 24/7 in low regard. Children were the most precious gifts of all, and they deserved love and good care. He’d looked forward to becoming a father himself, but he’d divorced his wife when he found her cervical cap birth control while looking for a new bar of soap when they were supposed to be getting ready to start a family. She lied to him, afraid to tell him she “wasn’t into parenting right now.” Instead she wanted to have fun, travel, dine out, and meet her girlfriends for twelve-dollar cocktails at trendy restaurants and bars in downtown Chicago, where she worked. His role was either as companion or as the one who’d foot the bill.
To Alyssa he replied stiffly, “I always make it a point to be objective in all the cases I handle. And my impression of Mr. and Mrs. Simmons is that they can be very doting parents…when it’s convenient.”
Alyssa winced. “I’m sorry, Dr. Blake. I didn’t mean to imply any improper behavior on your part.”
“It’s all right, Alyssa. I understand. Let’s just forget it, shall we? As far as Sienna Simmons is concerned, go ahead and do your home inspection. She won’t be ready for discharge for several days at least. In the meantime I’ll try to observe Mrs. Simmons, see if I can determine if her devotion to little Sienna is real or more because she’s covering for her husband.”
Alyssa nodded. She picked up her notebook and silently left the office.
As Prentice headed for an early lunch before seeing patients that afternoon, he thought about Alyssa. She’d looked so hurt at his tight response to her comment. Bright and ambitious, she worked hard and did an excellent job, free of the weariness that plagued some of her older co-workers who’d seen some truly horrifying cases. She was also, as several of his colleagues pointed out, quite pretty. Prentice was human enough to notice, but was content to keep their interaction professional. He wasn’t too keen on workplace romances, and besides, Alyssa Palmer was about a dozen years his junior.
Prentice hardly lacked for female attention. He was aware of admiring glances from female staffers at the hospital, and one of his early post-divorce relationships had been with a nurse practitioner in OB/GYN before she relocated to the Sunbelt. He enjoyed his time with her, but he knew from the beginning of her wish for a warmer climate and saw no reason to ask her to stay in Illinois, so they parted on good terms. They’d been discreet, and no one knew about the affair.
His colleagues constantly urged him to get to know some of the flirtatious females he came in contact with daily, but Prentice was reluctant. He’d made the mistake of confiding the circumstances of his divorce to one of his physician colleagues, who later admitted having mentioned it to two other
people he was lunching with. Before long, it was all over the hospital. Anyone who knew Prentice Blake knew he’d been made a fool of. Even after three years, he still smarted from knowing his divorce had been a topic of gossip around the water cooler.
The only woman he wouldn’t mind getting closer to was a colleague, general surgeon Hailey Booker. About his own age, never married, their professional paths rarely crossed, for most of his patients who needed surgery were related to either ENT or orthopedics. He did see her every now and again at the restaurant in the medical building that was a popular alternative to the hospital cafeteria. Unfortunately, whenever he was unattached she always seemed to be dating someone, and vice versa. The last he heard, she was seeing a retinal specialist from Chicago. Apparently the man came up to Lake County one day a week to see patients locally and came by to take her to lunch. Hailey seemed very happy as she performed introductions and graciously invited Prentice to join them, but he declined, cocking his head toward some other colleagues who were beckoning him to come over.
Maybe it was for the best, he told himself. He did have occasion to consult with Hailey every now and again. It might not be a good idea if they took it to a social level, for they’d still have to work together, even if it ended badly, and that might be awkward. Best to leave it alone.
Hard to believe he was now thirty-seven, and he wondered if his dream of becoming a father would ever happen.
Love Will Follow, coming Spring 2013!
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