My Soldier Too Page 2
Isabella took a hair clip out of her shoulder bag. “I was kind of tough on him. I might have taken my frustration over what happened with the homeless guy out on him. His persistence about our relationship is starting to wear on me.” She fastened her thick auburn curls into a ponytail. “I don’t know what’s wrong. He’s a great guy, and I really do care about him. But I want what you and Marcy have. I want my heart to skip a beat every time he looks at me. The way he acted this morning reminded me that, most of the time, he carries on as if he’s the only person who matters. He definitely doesn’t respect my work, either. None of the feelings I want to have for a boyfriend are there.”
“Maybe you need to consider he might not be the one for you. Have you thought about dating other guys?”
“No, I haven’t. Ben doesn’t take no for an answer. I guess I’ve been content enough with how things are. But he’s really starting to pressure me for more of a commitment, and I’m not feeling so content. I’m not sure what would be worse though, breaking up with him or having to tell my family about it.”
“Isabella, you can’t choose a husband based on what your family wants. You’ve got to decide that for yourself, even if it means breaking up with Ben. As the old cliché says, there are lots of other fish in the sea. You have to be responsible for your own happiness.”
Isabella didn’t want to spend another second talking about Ben. “I know. You’re right. I guess I’ve been taking the path of least resistance lately where he’s concerned. Listen, you really better get going. Besides, I need to get the General to his appointment. Thanks again for coming over to check on me. I’ll figure things out with Ben, eventually. Have a safe trip. I’ll see you when you get back. Say hi to Marcy for me.”
“I will, honey. You take care.” Beth picked up her briefcase and left the ladies’ room.
Isabella finished tidying herself up and went in search of the General. She found him waiting for her in a chair propped against the wall in the lobby. “Are you ready to go to your appointment, David?”
Even though everyone else referred to him as the General, Isabella always addressed him by his given name.
He stood and, like a gentleman, bent his right elbow away from his body so she could take his arm as they walked. “Thank you for indulging me with a walk,” he said.
“I’m happy to do it. Especially after you got me out of that jam this morning.”
“I’ll always look after your safety, my dear. It feels good to have earned my stroll with you this morning, though.”
“I know you prefer to walk. It’s the least I can do for a friend.”
With his free hand, David reached over and squeezed Isabella’s. “Friend, indeed.”
As they had done once a month for the past several years, Isabella and the old man walked to the small VA clinic housed within Boston Central Hospital.
Chapter 2
Army Reserve Captain Madison Brown stepped out of the subway into the cold morning and turned left toward Boston Central Hospital. As a trauma nurse, she usually worked in the emergency room, but occasionally she worked in the VA clinic as part of her reserve duties. This was one such morning.
Dressed in a finely pressed Class A uniform with dress jacket, skirt, and wool overcoat, she wrapped her arms tightly around her body and shivered in the cold. What was she thinking when she chose to wear a skirt this morning?
Hurrying along, she took care not to slip on the icy sidewalks. The slushy snow from the day before had frozen solid in the morning’s frigid temperature. Despite the cold, she didn’t mind the walk. She enjoyed taking in the city’s varied architecture, old buildings, and seemingly endless changes brought on by continual construction efforts, which would allegedly relieve traffic congestion. Unfortunately, no matter what changes were made, the snarl of vehicles always seemed the same: awful.
Once she’d begun living along the shore in the town of Ipswich, she vowed she’d never live in the city again, but nonetheless, she enjoyed working in Boston. The tour she’d served in Iraq made her especially appreciative of the sights and sounds of this historic American city. Iraq had opened her eyes to the beauty in the simple things that she’d previously taken for granted—things like the hustle and bustle of rush hour as the sun rises over the tall buildings. Or the wild, resourceful birds that made urban homes alongside the city’s human inhabitants. Not to mention the genius of the Zakim Bridge over the Charles River.
Unfortunately this morning, thanks to the treacherous sidewalks, she had to peer down at her feet instead of at the wonders around her. When she did glance up to check her progress, she saw a young woman ahead of her, carefully helping an old man. They were walking the same direction as she was, toward the hospital. The woman was of average height with a slight figure and alluring backside. She was wearing a charcoal-colored skirt that fell slightly above her knees, knee-high black boots, and a waist-length wool coat. They were making good progress, except that the woman was struggling to juggle her shoulder bag and to keep her companion from falling on the ice.
Sensing she could use some help, Madison quickened her pace. She was only an arm’s length away when the young woman lost her footing on a slippery patch. To Madison’s amazement, she managed not to take the old man down with her.
Madison hurried around in front of her and saw the most stunning woman she’d ever laid eyes on. She was adorably cute and alluringly sexy all at the same time. Her silky auburn curls were pulled back into a ponytail. Absolutely gorgeous, she had flawless olive skin and emerald green eyes that Madison found impossible to look away from. Something about the woman made her want to laugh out loud, not at her, but with her. She extended a hand. “Here, let me help you.”
The woman put her hand out.
Madison grasped it and pulled her up so quickly that they both lost their balance and started to slip. Madison grabbed her, steadied herself, and kept them from falling. She was instantly even more attracted to the woman she held in her arms. A flutter of something she hadn’t felt in a long time passed through her. She wasn’t sure she wanted to feel it now and pushed it away as quickly as it had come. The woman stared at her speechless, as if the wind had been knocked out of her. “Are you all right?” Madison asked.
“Yes, I’m okay, thanks to you.” She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “I must have been quite the sight splattered all over the sidewalk.”
“You could say that. It might not have been the most graceful fall I’ve ever seen. But on a scale of one to ten, I’d still give you a nine for style.”
“That’s something to be proud of, I suppose.”
The woman laughed, and her grip on Madison’s forearm tightened. Her infectious mirth caused Madison to laugh easily with her.
The old man spoke. “If you two are done giggling like a couple of schoolgirls, I’d like to get moving before I freeze to death, right here in my tracks.” He winked at them. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d guess you were a couple of long-lost friends seeing each other for the first time in ages.”
The woman’s gaze lingered on Madison’s face. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually hang onto strangers as if my life depended on it.”
“It’s okay. I don’t either.” Madison let go of her and extended her hand. “I’m Madison Brown.”
The woman clasped Madison’s outstretched hand. “I’m Isabella Parisi. It’s really nice to meet you, and thanks for stopping to help us.” She gestured toward the General and said, “This is my friend, David. We’re on our way to the VA clinic at Boston Central.”
“It’s nice to meet you both. I’m on my way to the clinic, too. I’d be happy to walk the rest of the way with you, if you’d like.”
The General tipped his hat to Madison. “This is one fine morning. We’d be happy to have your assistance, Captain. It’s some good luck for an old man to be flanked by two beautiful women on a walk through the city.”
Madison put one hand on the General’s shoulder while shaking his hand with
the other. “I’m happy to help. It’s nice to meet you, sir.” She turned her attention to Isabella. “Here, let me carry your bag.”
“Thank you. We really do appreciate the help.” Isabella took the General’s arm as they resumed their journey. “I’ve never seen you at the clinic. Do you work there?”
“Not usually. I normally work in the emergency room of the hospital, but the Army assigned me to work at the clinic for about a month as part of my reserve duties. How about you? What line of work are you in?” Madison asked.
“I’m a social worker. I mostly work with veterans.”
The General chimed in. “Isabella takes me to my appointments. We go the third Wednesday of every month. She’s the best social worker in the city and an even better friend. I don’t know how I’d manage the guys at the shelter without her.”
“You mean the Pepine?” Madison asked.
“Yes. I stay there to watch over my brothers. Isabella would prefer it if I lived in the veterans’ home instead. But I’m sure you can understand that the call of duty to our brothers and sisters in arms can be stronger than a man’s need for his own comfort. I see from the service medal on your chest that you’ve been to Iraq.”
“I have, and I do understand, all too well.” The sense of connection to the old man because of their shared war experiences didn’t surprise Madison. What did surprise her was the connection she felt to Isabella.
“No veteran,” Isabella said, “should ever live on the streets. I only wish we spent half as much money caring for them when they come home as we do on the wars we send them to. Then maybe my friend here would let me help him find a warm, safe place to live.”
“That would be awfully nice,” David said. “But until that happens, I’ll keep doing my part to take care of those boys. I’d be bored out of my skull otherwise. You’re no different, my dear Isabella. You work just as hard as I do to look out for them.”
David addressed Madison. “She’s a special lady. Karma blessed you today because you got to cross paths with her.”
“I guess I was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time this morning,” Madison said.
When they reached the clinic, Madison shook hands with David. “It was a pleasure to walk with you. Take care of yourself.” She handed Isabella her bag and extended a hand. “I’m glad to have met you, too.”
Isabella took Madison’s hand. “Me, too, and I really do appreciate your help. Could I buy you a coffee sometime to say thank you?”
“I’d like that. Please stop by the clinic anytime. Like I said, I’ll be here for the next month or so.” Madison motioned over her shoulder to the entry of the building. “I better get going or I’ll be late for my morning appointments. I’ll see you around.”
Chapter 3
The clock on the wall read almost eleven. Madison glanced at the day’s list of patients on the clipboard that she carried. David Cutter was on the schedule for early afternoon. A month had gone by since she met him and Isabella out on the street. She hated to admit it, but she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. He’d said that Isabella always accompanied him to his appointments. The prospect of seeing her again made butterflies dance in her stomach.
Only one person sat in the waiting room. Madison watched the lanky man fidget on the stiff aluminum chair. His face was lined with the wrinkles of time. The name Ernie Gilmore was the next one on the schedule. She assumed the fellow in the waiting room was Ernie. When he shifted his body, dried corn kernels dropped from the hole in the left pocket of his worn jacket. He leaned down and, with shaky hands, picked them up one by one. Madison guessed that the city’s pigeons wouldn’t go hungry if Ernie Gilmore had anything to say about it.
She called out to him. “Mr. Gilmore?”
Ernie looked up from his task. “I don’t like this place. It’s full of sick people and needles.”
Madison walked to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “I know, sir. But I promise, no needles for you today.”
“I been called all kinds of things on the street, but no one ain’t never called me ‘sir’ before.” Ernie stood. When he did, several kernels fell again from the pesky hole in his pocket to the floor. “Especially by an officer like yourself.”
Madison bent over and picked up the kernels for the old man. She put them into the pocket of the dark green Army sweater she wore over her scrubs. “Maybe they should. You served your country. You deserve that much, even from an officer like me. Your service was as valuable as mine.”
Ernie beamed. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome. Feel free to call me Madison if you’d like. Please, come with me.”
He followed her into the examination room. She pulled open a stainless steel drawer and removed a roll of white medical tape. She cut off a piece big enough to cover the hole in Ernie’s pocket and gently smoothed the tape over it. “I see that you carry food for the birds. I live in Ipswich. I know the birds out there pretty well, but I’m not sure about the ones in the city.” She handed him the kernels from her own pocket and asked, “What kinds of birds do you feed around here?”
He seemed to relax with the conversation. “Pigeons, mostly, but sometimes starlings. What kinds of birds do you got where you live?”
Madison reached for the blood pressure monitor. “In winter, mostly cardinals and chickadees. Would you mind taking off your jacket so I can take your blood pressure?”
Ernie eyed the monitor with suspicion as he reluctantly removed his coat. Unease crept into his expression when Madison wrapped the cuff around the upper part of his right arm. She kept him talking in hopes of making him feel less nervous. “Where do you feed the pigeons?” she asked.
“On the sidewalk out in front of the veterans’ shelter where I stay sometimes.” His focus turned to the cuff. “Is that thing going to hurt?”
“No, it won’t hurt.” She squeezed the bulb attached to the monitor several times. “I met a man named David Cutter who stays at the shelter, too. Do you know him?”
“Oh yeah.” Ernie perked up. “Everybody knows him. We call him the General, though. He might be the oldest guy in the city, but for sure, he’s damn near the toughest. A few weeks back, he scared some angry bastard half out of his mind for grabbing our girl Isabella.”
“Isabella Parisi?” Madison asked.
“That’s her.”
Concern for Isabella tugged at Madison. “Did she get hurt?”
“No, but we thought he’d squeeze the life out of the poor girl until the General stepped in.” Ernie shook his head. “Nobody messes with him. We would have had his back if he gave us the word, though. Besides, we love Isabella, too. We’d never let anything bad happen to her.”
Isabella must make everyone who knows her crazy about her. Madison felt justified in her preoccupation with Isabella. “She’s lucky to have you guys.” Madison removed the cuff from his arm. “Okay, Ernie, your blood pressure’s fine. I’ll let the doctor know you’re ready to see him. Don’t be nervous. He’s only going to ask you a few questions and give you a quick exam.” She patted his arm. “You’ll be all right. You take care of yourself and the pigeons.”
A familiar voice called her name as she headed back down the hallway toward the patient waiting area. She turned to see the source. “Hey, Dr. Barns, great to see you. I’m so glad you’re home safe and sound. Have you been assigned a rotation here?”
“It’s Jim, remember? Yes, I’m here for the next month or so. You, too?”
“The same. When did you get back from Iraq?”
“A few weeks ago. I sure did miss having you there those last days of my tour.”
“I can’t say that I missed being there, but I’m glad to see you now. It’ll be nice to work together under less harsh circumstances.”
“Funny you should say that. I just got a call from the veterans’ shelter. Apparently there’s been a skirmish, and they’ve managed to draw blood. The two guys involved refuse to go to a hospital. Plus, the
social worker who got caught up in the middle is being just as stubborn.”
“Did you catch the social worker’s name?”
“Isabella Parisi. Do you know her?”
“Yes, I do. We should send someone over to check on them.”
“That’s what I thought. The schedule’s light today. Dr. Evans suggested I go over there now. You interested in coming along to give me a hand?”
“Absolutely.” The word left her lips before her brain had a chance to form a less urgent-sounding response. “I’ll grab my coat and a medical bag.”
Jim pulled on his suit jacket, “Okay. Meet me out front. We’ll take the clinic van. On your way out, stop and let Dr. Evans know we’re both going.” He went out the door.
* * *
The shelter was only five blocks away, but to Madison, the drive seemed like miles. When they arrived, she followed Jim up the steps through the entrance. Her stomach was in knots—both with worry over Isabella’s welfare and in anticipation of seeing her again.
A balding, middle-aged security guard came out of the dormitory and ambled toward them. He pulled his wrinkled uniform trousers up over his belly. The unpolished name tag over his left breast pocket read “Billy Dean.” Madison suspected his wide girth suggested a fondness for sitting in front of the television while drinking beer and eating potato chips.
“Hey, Doc, thanks for coming over. Buxton and Louis got into a fistfight over a card game. They shoved each other around pretty good. Louis got the better of Buxton this time,” Billy said with a sneer. “Buxton’s busted lip bled all over the place, and I had to get the mop out to clean up the damn floor. They’re lucky I didn’t knock some heads together to get them to behave themselves.”
“We got a report that one of the social workers may have been involved. Is that true?” Jim asked.