Hannah's List (Blossom Street #7)(21)

"I don't think so," I said automatically.

"Bill's been substituting for you for two years now. Isn't it time you rejoined the group?"

"Maybe I will," I said. I wasn't sure why I hesitated. I used to enjoy our poker nights, and I didn't understand my own reluctance.

I had hospital rounds that morning. We did it on a rotation basis and this was my week. Because Hannah had spent so much time in this hospital, I'd had the opportunity to see the situation from two different perspectives-- first, as a physician, and secondly, as the spouse of a patient. I could write a book on what I'd learned.

When I arrived at the hospital, I noticed signs everywhere for the annual picnic. The children's ward put on a huge charity function each year, one specially designed for children with cancer. This wasn't a fund-raising event. The sole purpose was to let them be kids and forget about chemo and surgery for an afternoon. Hannah and I had volunteered at the picnic for several years and since I often had a patient or two in the pediatric oncology ward, it was very personal for us.

"Michael." Patrick O'Malley called my name as he walked down the wide corridor to meet me. I hadn't expected to see him; he must've been there for one of his patients. "What's this I hear about you?" he asked.

"What?" I didn't know anyone had much of anything to discuss about me. I'd pretty much stayed under the radar, especially when it came to social activities.

"Friday night at the clinic."

"Oh, that." Actually, I was embarrassed by the altercation and wished I'd kept my cool. I'd just...snapped. I didn't know what had brought it on and had regretted it ever since.

"I hear you threatened some guy within an inch of his life."

I didn't want to talk about it. "His wife fell down the stairs--" I made quotation marks with my fingers "--three times in three months. I figured someone should do something."

"She wouldn't press charges?"

"Apparently not. She wouldn't admit the guy even touched her." I might have maintained my professional attitude, but her chart confirmed that her injuries had become more extensive with each assault. Shamika didn't seem to realize she was risking her life if she stayed with the creep. Still, I was appalled by my own behavior; the audacity of it was completely unlike anything I'd ever done.

"You only did what all of us have felt like doing a dozen times."

No matter, I'd been out of line. "I don't think the clinic wants me back."

"Are you kidding?" Patrick said. "It's hard enough for them to get volunteers. They'll look the other way, at least this once."

I thought so, too, but my decision was made. I'd resigned. My uncharacteristic act of violence simply disturbed me too much. A replacement doctor had already been found, according to Mimi, but I didn't tell Patrick any of this. He'd find out soon enough.

"Speaking of volunteers," Patrick said, glancing pointedly at the posters decorating the hallway. "The picnic's on Saturday."

"It's a little early this year, isn't it?" I asked, stalling for time.

"Not really. It's always in May."

I hadn't attended last year's. Hannah's funeral had been only a couple of weeks before that and I was barely coping.

"We could use a few more volunteers."

"I've got plans," I said, although it wasn't true. Again, my own reluctance baffled me. Until Hannah's illness and death, I'd enjoyed being part of the event.

"Can you change your plans?" Patrick asked. "We're really shorthanded. We need someone to help with the games."

I sighed.

"We need a volunteer to flip burgers, too, if that's more to your liking."

I could see Patrick wasn't going to make this easy. "I might be able to come."

"We need every worker we can get."

"How long would I need to be there?" I asked, hedging. If I could find a way out of this I'd gladly take it.

Patrick shrugged. "A couple of hours should do it."

"Okay, I'll rearrange my plans," I said, continuing the farce. The only thing I had scheduled for Saturday was my routine five-mile run.

"Thanks, buddy." He slapped me on the back and hurried off.

The word that I'd signed up as a volunteer at the Kids with Cancer event spread faster than a California brushfire. Clearly Patrick hadn't wasted any time.

A couple of other physicians stopped me during my rounds to say how pleased they were that I was socializing again. In my opinion, the news that I was volunteering at a charity function shouldn't be treated like a public announcement.

Besides, I wasn't socializing. I'd been pressured into helping what I considered a good cause. I wouldn't be doing this at all if Patrick hadn't cornered me and practically blackmailed me into it. Naturally, I couldn't say that. I smiled at the two physicians and quickly extricated myself from the conversation so I could go about my business.

I hadn't taken more than a few steps when I noticed a couple of the nurses with their heads together, whispering. They looked up a bit guiltily as I approached them, and I realized they were probably talking about me.

"Morning, Dr. Everett," the first one said. She seemed impossibly young and energetic.