Dust to Dust by James M. Thompson

Author:James M. Thompson [Thompson, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2017-03-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 21

The next morning, Sheila met George Patterson outside the door to Jordan Stone’s room. Sheila had asked Patterson to have him transferred from a ward bed to a private room. When he asked her why, she just shrugged and said she was contemplating putting him in a research project and needed to get a better idea of his past history, both medical and social.

They entered the room to find Stone staring at his breakfast, a wistful look on his face.

“Hey, Jordan,” Dr. Patterson said. “How’re you doin’ this morning?”

Stone turned red, bloodshot eyes to Patterson. “Thinking back to when I could eat steak and eggs for breakfast and never look back. Now I look at this oatmeal—if that is what this concoction before me truly is—and I wonder what the chances are that I can keep it down long enough to digest it.”

Patterson ushered Sheila over to Stone’s bedside. “Jordan, this is Dr. Sheila Goodman. She is head of the department of internal medicine’s geriatrics department.”

He leaned over, put his hand up next to his mouth, and stage-whispered, “She is also one of my bosses, so be extra-nice to her or I might get canned.”

Sheila laughed and playfully punched Patterson on the shoulder. “Now, don’t go telling him that, George. He’ll think I’m a dreadful martinet.”

Stone stared at her for a moment, and she had the strangest feeling he could see all the way down to her soul.

“No, Dr. Goodman, I would never think that. I can see right away that you are a gentle, compassionate doctor filled with the milk of human kindness.”

He glanced at Patterson. “And, George, you and I both know the good doctor here thinks you are one of the best residents in the department. Otherwise they would never have put you on such a difficult case like mine.”

Sheila laughed. “Now I can see, Mr. Stone, why George said you had a line of bullshit a mile long and twice as wide.”

Stone held up a hand. “Please, Dr. Goodman, call me Jordan. I like it when beautiful women call me by my first name . . . makes me feel decades younger.”

“Then you must call me Sheila.”

He shook his head. “No, ma’am. While in the hospital, protocol must be followed, so I shall call you Dr. Goodman.” And then he winked. “Until such time as I feel well enough to ask you to dinner, since I see you are not wearing a wedding ring.”

She laughed again and signaled to Patterson he could leave. Then she pulled up a visitor’s chair and sat next to the bed. “I am here to ask you some rather personal and probing questions—if you don’t mind, of course.”

Stone looked around and spread his arms. “Is that why I was transferred from the dungeons of ward life to the presidential suite?”

This man is still mentally sharp, Sheila thought. “Yes. I thought we might do better with some privacy for our discussion.”

He grinned, exposing yellow, dirty teeth that hadn’t seen a toothbrush in quite some time.

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