Closet Confession

He shoved open the door with a little more force than necessary and stepped inside the room. Burch lay there in all her normal sophisticated elegance. She was tall, thin, and fully dressed in a sweater-set and khaki capris, looking very much like an aging model from any nautical magazine you could pick up off the shelf. She slightly turned her head to look his way. Her well-aged face showed a narrowed, furrowed brow, clearly irritated at the small team of nurses that formed around her right arm, trying to draw blood.

“What’s wrong with these people? They never get it right the first time. And who’s this one? He must be new.” She knew them all so the surprise was clear in her voice as she pointed to the man expertly drawing blood from her arm.

“Mrs. Burch, it’s always a pleasure,” Derek said formally, making his way across the room to stand at the foot of her bed. He brought her record up on his iPad to see a note written in large letters: She’s in a mood tonight. Derek bypassed that obvious statement and saw nothing in the way of notes indicating why she’d made this trip.

His act of defiance was to ignore everything she had just said to him. Mrs. Burch never gave an inch and her veins were almost non-existent, making things like conversation and blood drawing almost impossible.

“You’ve had a birthday since I last saw you.” Derek never looked up from the tablet. His smile grew big, but he kept it hidden. He’d missed her birthday yesterday. Damn, he’d be in trouble for that one. So he diverted from that monumental mistake. She’d hate what he was about to say more than him missing the blessed day. “So that makes you eighty-three now, right?”

Tension wafted throughout the room.

“You aren’t near correct as usual. I don’t know why I keep coming here, you all are always misinformed. Ow!” she gasped, swiping her free hand toward the nurse who untied the rubber tourniquet around her upper arm and withdrew the needle from her vein.

This male nurse was an expert at drawing blood in terrible situations so Derek didn’t scold her for trying to move at such a critical time in the process.

“What brings you in to see us on such a busy night? Your vitals look good. And it appears you wouldn’t answer any questions for the nurses, so you’re being your normal disagreeable self, I see,” Derek tossed out. Mrs. Burch ignored him completely. Her frown was now aimed toward the female nurses still in the room. They were probably the first to attempt a needle stick and fail. He knew firsthand what that glare could do to a person. Truth be told, she had scared the shit out of him more than once when that same look landed directly on him as a boy.

Derek looked up, making brief eye contact with each of them, and cocked his head toward the door. He was certain drawing blood was a complete waste of time in this instance. He got a mouthed ‘thank you’ before they moved quickly out of the room. The auburn-haired male nurse, Justin, who was working at her arm never lifted his gaze, but Derek knew he was aware of everything going on around him. He was new to the hospital, straight off his third military tour and hadn’t lost that military vibe about him—quiet, efficient, always watching, and only spoke when spoken too. There wasn’t a time when he wouldn’t pitch in to help in any given situation. A total team player, and extremely easy on the eyes.

Mrs. Burch kept her gaze on the male nurse as he quickly and efficiently finished labeling the vials and added them to the cart. He appeared to never notice her stare as he worked. Derek surveyed her arm. She usually left with big ugly bruises already forming on her thin skin, but this time he saw none of the discoloration that typically formed. She didn’t acknowledged how quickly the male nurse had done his job when the others couldn’t find a vein, but he hadn’t missed the sudden interest she’d shown. Her brows lifted as she watched the nurse stroll from the room never looking back at either of them.

“Not even a ‘have a goodnight’?” she stated as the door clicked firmly shut behind him.

“We’re alone now. What brings you here so late tonight? You’re clearly not sick.” Derek anchored a hip on the side of the bed.

“I have hemorrhoids,” she offered defiantly. These moments were designed for shock and awe. She just never remembered that he’d seen it all.

“No, you don’t, Aunt Vera. Why are you here wasting everyone’s time? You could have just called me tomorrow,” Derek said, forcing her to scoot over to let him sit fully on the bed.