CHAPTER 4.
Jessie struggled to unlock the door to her apartment building without dropping her bags. She juggled keys, her briefcase, and a brown paper bag of groceries, and was on the point of putting her baggage down when she heard a shout behind her. She turned, and saw a blond woman with a cheery smile and a similar bag of shopping tucked under one arm.
"Hey, it's okay; I'll get the door," the woman said. "I live in number 6," she added.
"Thanks," Jessie replied, gratefully. "I was having problems there."
The woman pushed open the door and Jessie followed her in. Closing the door, she turned on the light switch, and Jessie could see the woman clearly for the first time.
"Have we met?" Jessie began, cautiously, as they both made their way up the stairs. "I'm Jessie Rhodes."
"Susan Lewis," puffed the woman as they wound their way up to the second floor. "I think I've seen you at County. You're the doctor who's assessing my boss." She smiled at Jessie. "Bad luck on your assignment." She smiled sympathetically, "You must have really pissed someone off to get that job."
Jessie stopped outside her door, and looked quizzically at Susan.
"I'm an Attending in the ER," Susan elaborated, "Dr Romano is my boss."
"Oh, right," Jessie nodded, understanding. "Would you like to come in for a glass of wine?"
Susan smiled.
"Give me a minute to put this lot away, and I'll be right down." She said.
Jessie nodded and unlocked her door, managing not to drop anything. She left the door on the latch and walked through the hall into the sitting room. She had lived in the apartment for nearly a year now, having bought it after finally deciding that renting was throwing good money after bad. The apartment itself was cosy and warm, and Jessie felt very much at home. It had two bedrooms; one with an en-suite toilet and shower room. There was a separate bathroom, a big lounge-diner and a decent sized kitchen with dual aspect windows. Jessie loved her kitchen. She had made a few alterations, in order that she could cook with ease – it wasn't always easy with only one functioning arm. She quickly unpacked the shopping and found a bottle of red wine.
"Hello!" called Susan from the hallway
"Just shut the door and come in!" Jessie replied. She shrugged out of her coat and shoes, and found her slippers in the sitting room. Susan poked her head round the door.
"Hey – I like what you've done with the place," Susan said. She followed Jessie back into the kitchen, where she spied the red wine on the counter. "Do you need a hand with that?" she nodded towards the bottle before realising what she'd said. "Sorry – bad choice of words," she grimaced. "I tend to speak before I think sometimes."
"Don't worry about it," Jessie grinned. "You could get a couple of glasses for me, they're in the cupboard over there."
Jessie expertly opened the wine, using a strange contraption attached to the work surface. Susan noticed. She proffered the glasses, and Jessie filled them halfway.
They wandered into the lounge and Jessie gestured towards the comfy looking brown leather sofa which nestled in the middle of the room. She arranged herself comfortably in a similar leather armchair and tucked her legs up underneath her.
"So how long have you worked at County?" Jessie asked, slowly sipping her wine. She smiled appreciatively at the glass and glanced up at Susan.
"Oh well, a couple of years," Susan replied, "but I used to work here about seven years ago. I went away for a bit."
"What happened? Did you get homesick?" Jessie looked at Susan over the top of her wine glass.
"Something like that," Susan admitted.
Jessie sighed to herself.
"I do miss England sometimes," she mused, "but to be honest, my home is here in the States and I don't think I could go back and start again over there. It just wouldn't be the same."
"Is this your family?" Susan asked, reaching for a photograph on the table. She picked it up and studied it; a much younger Jessie, maybe eighteen or nineteen. Her hair in the photograph was longer, but it was the same rich glossy brown colour she had now. Her dark brown eyes danced with excitement as she stared at the camera; a half smile on her face. Next to Jessie sat a boy who Susan presumed was her brother; younger by a few years, with braces and a shy, awkward manner. Behind the children stood their parents; both looked confident and happy. Jessie resembled her mother in looks, but she had her father's colouring.
"Yeah, we had one of those professional photos done for my Gran's 70th birthday," Jessie grinned as she remembered the day. "Michael didn't want to smile because of his braces, but my mother insisted. I decided I was going to wear my favourite dress – the photo was being taken at two o'clock on a Saturday afternoon, but I wanted to look like I was on my way to the ball! Mum told me not to be so ridiculous so I spent the rest of the morning sulking! In the end it was my Dad who suggested I wear this outfit. He said it was one of my Gran's favourites. God, it's awful, isn't it? I think I was still stuck in the eighties!"
The two women laughed, and proceeded to swap fashion disaster stories of their childhood. Susan mentioned her favourite leggings, and Jessie swore that she used to have a leotard and sweatbands from her 'Flashdance' phase. They talked for a couple of hours; finishing one bottle and starting on another. They found that they had quite a lot in common.
Feeling hungry, Jessie rose from the sofa and strolled into the kitchen to get some snacks.
"So, what's it really like, having Romano as a patient?" Susan asked, from the lounge.
Jessie smiled. She had wondered what Robert's colleagues had thought of the assessment, and of her involvement in it. She knew Luca of course, only through Spanish classes though – she had long decided that he was WAY out of her league! – and she was getting to know Susan; she had some idea of how they felt about Robert, but was interested in what they had to say.
"Well, it's certainly not boring!" She grinned, thinking about their first session. It had been out of character for her to tell her own story so openly, but she knew that Romano had needed something from her before he could begin the sessions. She had shown him that she trusted him, and expected him to do the same. It had seemed to work. He'd been opening up slowly, but sometimes, Jessie felt it was like trying to prise open a can of tuna with her fingernails.
Jessie wandered back into the lounge carrying a tray with some bowls of crisps and nuts. Susan took a handful and waited for Jessie to elaborate.
"Well, let's see – what can I tell you? Or more appropriately; what am I allowed to tell you? Jessie mused, pretending to concentrate.
Susan leaned forward with anticipation.
"Well, let's see. He's certainly a character!" Jessie continued, looking at Susan and raising an eyebrow. " I can't tell you about our sessions," she said, "but we seem to be making progress. He's a lot less angry than when we first met." Jessie's voice trailed off and she smiled into her wineglass, thinking about the most recent session. Robert had been in a really cheerful mood which, to be honest, was not a frequent occurrence. He had laughed and joked and been really responsive to her questions. The session had been about the practicalities of only having one arm, and Jessie had left with several ideas for future sessions; she'd been buzzing with inspiration ever since.
"Less angry? Are you sure we're talking about the same guy?" Susan asked, incredulously. "Short, bald, miserable?" When Jessie nodded, she continued. "Romano's full of anger, Jessie. And hatred, and bitterness, and resentment. He's not a nice person." She looked at Jessie, her brow furrowed. "Last week he refused to treat a homeless guy because he said that he's already seen him twice during the previous fortnight and he still couldn't get the man's smell out of his clothes."
Susan paused and took a sip of her wine. She looked at Jessie and smiled sadly.
"The guy had internal bleeding. The wall of his heart had given way. He haemorrhaged and died. Romano just ignored him, refused to treat him and laughed when the guy said he was in pain. The man's an asshole, Jessie. Before the accident he was just a jerk; now he's a jerk with a big chip on his shoulder. We've been trying our best not to give him too hard a time, but it's so difficult when he's so nasty to everyone." She shrugged. "Maybe he's not the same when he comes to see you."
Jessie considered what Susan had said. She knew Romano was rude and nasty – that afternoon she'd spent following him round the ER had been very revealing. He'd been particularly cutting to both the medical staff and the patients, and the nurse she had spoken to had confirmed that it was his usual behaviour. There wasn't much to like about Robert Romano, but Jessie was trying to find some redeeming qualities in the man. If there were any, they were buried a long way down and she'd yet to find them.
"I appreciate what you're saying, Susan," Jessie acknowledged, "and I'm lucky that I don't have to work with him. I'm not here to make friends with him. And you're right – he is an asshole. But you have to understand though, that Romano's whole life has been turned upside down and he doesn't know what the hell he's going to do about it. It's like falling in love, or losing your job, or getting pregnant. When something comes along that completely throws you – you know?"
Susan nodded. She understood.
"And then to make matters worse," Jessie continued, "the Board of the hospital where he works has told him that he's got to spend six months with a total stranger whose job involves finding out his most hidden feelings, and who will ultimately decide whether or not he gets to keep his job. I can at least understand why he's a jerk!"
They sat in silence for a minute while each considered what Jessie had said. Eventually Susan roused herself from the sofa.
"I really must go!" she said, putting her wine glass on the table and performing a particularly painful looking stretch. "I've got to be at work in the morning."
Jessie walked Susan to the door.
"I've had an excellent time this evening," Jessie said "hopefully we can do it again soon."
"Absolutely," Susan grinned. "It's been great!"
The two women embraced, and Susan shuffled back to her apartment, singing softly to herself. Jessie giggled as she shut and locked the door; it had been a nice evening, she thought. Always good to see what someone else thinks of Romano. And nice to make a new friend. That makes two in one day. Aren't I doing well!
Smiling to herself, Jessie cast her mind back to earlier that evening. She had stopped in at the store to buy some fresh pasta on the way home and had picked up more than just shaved parmesan. His name was Craig, and they'd met in the produce section whilst she was juggling with her basket and several vine tomatoes that had chosen that exact moment to cascade across the floor.
Trying to stifle giggles, Jessie had managed to drop to one knee, and attempted to gather up the tomatoes. Suddenly she heard someone say "Oh no!" and looked up to find a man staring down at her with a look of mock horror on his face.
"I hope this one wasn't your favourite," he smiled, lifting his foot to reveal a perfectly squashed tomato stuck to the base of his shoe.
"Oh, not Fred!" Jessie cried, trying not to laugh as she struggled to her feet. The man's arm shot out and helped her get her balance. "Fred was one of the juiciest looking tomatoes I'd ever seen! What am I going to do now?"
She looked up at the man, and saw for the first time, that he was young, and, in Jessie's eyes, very nice looking. He was a little taller than she was, with collar length hair and mischievous blue eyes. He looked very smart in a business suit and carried a shopping basket over his arm, the contents of which screamed "single".
"Well, what's wrong with Craig, here?" the man asked, holding out an identical looking tomato. I understand he's house trained, and he's very well educated!"
"Yes, but can he put up shelves?" Jessie deadpanned.
The man winked at her and held out his hand
"Craig Peck, architect." He said, adding with a grin, "shelves a speciality."
The rest of the conversation had continued in the same vein and by the time Craig had asked for her number she had already decided that she was going to ask for his.
Jessie sank down on the sofa and continued to think about Craig Peck, architect. Perhaps this would be the start of something interesting?