A Jolly Step to Start the Day

Happy feet glided across the white-tiled floor. Humming a song he'd heard moments earlier on the radio, a jovial Harvey broadly smiled at the occupants of the nurses' station. The mostly young women hungrily watched him approach.

"Good morning, ladies! And good morning to you, Davey," Harvey added for the male nurse, who already shook his head at his co-workers' fawning demeanor. A chorus of good mornings greeted him back. Turning to look over his shoulder, he added, "Thank you, Biff. You can put them right up here."

The beefy security guard placed his portion of the boxes and cartons onto the top of the station counter. Finished, Biff backed up to await any further orders. Harvey smiled to himself. Only two days ago, Biff had been ready to haul him out of the emergency room and toss him into the parking lot. I'm willing to bet that Norton told his closest minions to give me whatever I need, Harvey concluded. Perhaps I should have a talk with our money-obsessed administrator. I could strongly recommend this type of personal service for all patients and their families.

"Eat and drink up, everyone!" Harvey commanded, throwing his hands out as a welcoming for the breakfast he'd brought. "I can't thank you all enough for your care of my daughter."

Carrying a smaller batch of boxes and a carton, Harvey headed off to Room 414. An irate voice met him as he entered.

"Where the hell have you been?" Whitney demanded.

"Aww, what's wrong, pumpkin? Did you wake up with no around to listen to your complaints?" Harvey teased his daughter.

"That's not--fine, I'm bored. Wouldn't you be if--"

"Yes, I left to get my darling daughter breakfast from The Gassy Spout," Harvey acknowledged as Whitney saw the boxes he carried along with the drink carton. "Honeybuns for my favorite honey."

"Mochaccino?" she asked, hopefully.

"No, no mocha for you yet. Not until the doctors okay it."

"Dammit, Dad!"

"Well, if you don't want the honey buns, then I'm sure another patient on this floor--"

"Give me them!"

"Hmm, I expected your mother or uncle to be here by now," Harvey commented, placing the carton with drinks for them down on the small circular table. "I guess you don't rate an early morning appearance."

"No, I've been all alone," Whitney frowned, ignoring her father's goading. "Unless you count the nurses coming in and out. And I don't even recognize any of them except for the giggly one."

"Ah, yes, that would be Haylie. I think she took a shine to young Mr. Vine yesterday," Harvey recalled. "She's probably hoping that Spencer visits again. I should've had him pick up breakfast."

"You too important to do it yourself?" Whitney mocked back.

"Why to help young love, pumpkin!"

"Or lust," she mumbled.

"Perhaps I should give our giggly nurse Spencer's number," Harvey thoughtfully considered. Whitney rolled her eyes while attempting to slyly examine the labels and grab one of the drinks he'd brought. "Oh, no! Give me that."

"But, Dad!" Whitney whined as her father snatched the carton away from her reach.

"You will be following doctor's orders, missy," Harvey sternly reminded her. "I didn't spend far too long at The Spout, only for you to make me regret going there."

"Was it busy, or did Chappy catch your ear?"

"Both," Harvey sighed. Besides being a popular morning destination, the coffee house's owner, Chappy Noonan, had a reputation as a chatterbox. "According to Chappy, my love life is once again the talk of the town since those articles yesterday morning."

"Love life?" Whitney laughed. "More like who you're banging."

"Don't be crass, pumpkin. That's not what I wanted to hear, particularly with your mother in town. Neither of us needs her on the warpath. Not to mention the charity ball tonight. I don't want Cassandra's event mired in gossip over me." Harvey didn't add his final issue with the gossip. I couldn't even ask Chappy about Orrin Rusk. He wouldn't change the subject. The man even brought up that rumored weekend with that baroness...

"What are you smiling about?" his inquisitive daughter asked between bites.

"Nothing in particular. It's such a lovely start to a big day," Harvey smiled.

"No, something's going on. You seem happy," Whitney noticed, licking the stickiness from her fingers. Suddenly, a possibility entered her mind. "Did you get--"

"Good morning," Dr. Cheryl Fort greeted, entering the room and interrupting Whitney's question. Several paces behind her, Dr. Summer Mayfield followed.

"Good morning, Dr. Fort!" Harvey responded in a chipper voice.

That caused Whitney's eyes to narrow. She also waved at the doctors while scooping out a second honey bun from the box. Clutching it in her hand, Whitney appeared to dare one of the doctors to take it away from her.

"It's alright, Whitney. You can have that as a breakfast treat," Dr. Fort warmly reassured her patient. Then, nodding at the carton of various coffees, "But none of those for today."

"Crap!"

"That's my bad news for you. The good news is that your vitals all show consistent improvement."

"Can I go home?" Whitney blurted out, even as her father barely started to open his mouth.

"Hmm, I don't know. What do you think, Mr. Diamond?" Dr. Fort inquired, tapping her pen against the chart.

"I think another night or two could be beneficial for Whitney. The peace and quiet are improving her attitude dramatically," Harvey added with a wink at the doctors. Cheryl got the teasing, but Summer ran down the list of any medical issues that could cause one's eye to wink involuntarily. "No phone, no friends, and no gossiping might be the new way of life for--"

"Haha. Very funny, Father," Whitney sarcastically laughed until she turned her attention back to Dr. Fort. "Can I leave?"

"Yes, you can leave today."

"Alright!" Whitney shot up in the bed, carelessly tossing her half-eaten and now forgotten honey bun into its box. "Dad, you need to call--"

"Whoa! Slow down there, Miss Diamond," Dr. Fort cut off. "You're not leaving right this second. Based on how this works, you probably won't be discharged until around lunchtime."

"Lunchtime?" Whitney repeated, glancing at the clock. "Not until noon? But I have a long list of things that I need to do! Dad, we need to stop at the manor. I've decided to wear a different dress. Then we need to head back to the cabin, gather the girls, and get to the hotel. Donatello and his staff are meeting us there to do our hair! Do you have any idea how long that will take? I do!"

"That's another area we need to go over, Whitney. Whitney!" Dr. Fort repeated her name louder the second time, tapping the food tray with her clipboard. Once she got the young patient's attention, she continued. "While you've shown considerable improvement, you experienced a traumatic event. There will not be a swift continuation of your previous life. You need to take it easy. Got that?"

"But, I have the ball tonight!" Whitney whined, sounding her age.

"Yes, and I realize that you will want to attend. I also realize that forbidding you from attending is likely hopeless."

"Got that right," Whitney mumbled.

"What I need from you is an agreement to take things slow. First, you need to avoid prolonged exposure to the cold, so keep warm. Further, you need rest and not to exert yourself unnecessarily. So take a nap before you leave for the ball."

"A nap?! I don't have time for that!"

"She'll make the time. I can assure you on that, Dr. Fort," Harvey firmly declared.

"Don't forget to take what I'm going to prescribe for you," Dr. Fort said, scribbling down several notes. "Finally, you need to drink plenty of fluids. And while I understand it's New Year's Eve, that does not include ****."

"****? Why Dr. Fort, I'm only eighteen. I would never break the law as an underage drinker," Whitney denied, causing her father to close his eyes in disbelief and pinch his brow.

Before a chuckling Cheryl could reply, Summer finally spoke. "You appear to be the sort of young woman that partakes in underage consumption."

"Yes, she does," Harvey agreed. "Doctors, you have my word that I'll keep an eye on Whitney and away from any liquor."

"It's New Year's!"

"Miss Diamond, do you want me to pull up Nosy Nectar? I'm quite sure that there must be photos of you on there with a drink or bottle in your hand," Dr. Fort pointed out.

"Fine. I won't drink."

"And while I want to believe you, Dr. Mayfield will keep an eye on you tonight."

"What?!" Whitney exclaimed while her father raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, I will monitor your health and behavior at the charity ball tonight," Summer informed a highly disappointed Whitney.

"You don't have to do that. New Year's Eve is a fun night, and I don't want to ruin your fun," Whitney attempted to change her mind.

"No, I'm happy to do it. As the late Mrs. Singer was Dr. Tarver's close friend, I feel compelled to attend. However, I do not like to mingle--as Bridget puts it--so I'm more than relieved to have a work-related activity at this event."

"That's not necessary, Dr. Mayfield. I already planned to have an employee act as a chaperone for Whitney if she was able to attend," Harvey revealed. That caused Whitney's head to whip around in her father's direction in horror.

"A chaperone! Who?!"

"All the more eyes on your daughter is for the best, Mr. Diamond. Knowing Bridget, I expect her also to keep watch over your daughter," Dr. Fort responded.

"I agree with you on that point. Won't you be attending?" Harvey inquired.

"No, I'll be here for the next twenty-four hours. As you can imagine, the emergency room experiences an uptick in patients on New Year's Eve."

"That's a shame, Dr. Fort. I would've liked to buy a drink as thanks for your care," Harvey warmly smiled.

Whitney rolled her eyes at her father's regular flirting commenced.

"I'll have to ask for a raincheck on that offer, Mr. Diamond," a bemused Cheryl replied, taking his extended hand.

"Maybe I can upgrade that drink into a lunch," Harvey smirked, his handshake lingering longer than necessary.

"That sounds like a possibility for the new year," Cheryl responded, lost in thought. Shaking her head, Dr. Fort remembered where she stood and quickly explained that she had paperwork to finish. "Once everything is sorted, I'll stop back in before you leave, Whitney."

Harvey couldn't help but admire the dark-skinned woman's curvy ass as she left the room. Quite an intelligent woman in a high-stress career. Her type love to blow off steam in the most delightful ways. I should ask Bridget more about her. Coming out of his thoughts over a potential conquest, Harvey noticed Whitney attempting again to convince Dr. Mayfield not to monitor her.

"Sean's going to be there. You know, I bet he's going through a lot of pain with his foot. And you know how boys are...you should consider watching over him."

"Yes, I will additionally monitor Sean. Yet, as the son of two medical professionals, I fully expect that he'll follow his doctor's advice. You, I have no such expectations," Dr. Mayfield bluntly stated.

"And we both strongly appreciate your concern and care, Dr. Mayfield. Or can I call you Summer?" Harvey queried, stepping closer to her.

"No, you may not. I'm one of your daughter's physicians. That excludes any familiarity of that kind."

"Now, Dr. Mayfield, I recall that Bridget said you needed to work on your bedside manner with patients and their families. Surely, a step in that direction would be to accept my offer of a drink this evening," Harvey remarked, shrugging off her dismissive tone.

Summer's response didn't go the way Harvey hoped. The gorgeous strawberry-haired doctor scanned Harvey if he needed an MRI on his brain. He'd already made a similar offer the other day, and she'd rejected it. A follow-up offer didn't make sense to her.

"I believe I already stated previously that I don't have time for those types of social interactions, Mr. Diamond. And I also believe that is not what Dr. Tarver had in mind when it comes to correcting my substandard bedside manner."

"Dr. Mayfield, a young, beautiful, and talented professional such as yourself, needs to socialize. Perhaps I can offer you several tips on the subject."

"Once again, I do not understand how my appearance matters to my practicing medicine, Mr. Diamond," Summer curtly replied. She jotted down a reminder on her notepad to ask Bridget about Mr. Diamond and others commenting on her physical appearance. Finished, she decided to extract herself from the awkward conversation. "Good day. I have other patients to visit. I will see you at the ball tonight, Miss Diamond."

As the second attractive doctor left the room, Harvey's eyes stayed on the retreating toned ass. Damn shame. Redheads are always fun to teach new tricks to.

"Poof!" Whitney blew out while flicking her hand away from her mouth. "There goes the legendary charm of Harvey Diamond."

"A life lesson for you, pumpkin. You can't get everything you desire."

"More like I need to recognize my kryptonite and avoid it. Not like my father," Whitney sassed back.

"It's not a big deal, pumpkin. I've experienced my share of life more than I ever expected. Be happy with the fortune that comes your way. Wallowing in what you missed is a spiral to misery," Harvey spoke with a smile. "Now, let's look forward to tonight."

"You don't seem all that fazed by Dr. Mayfield's rejection," Whitney noted.

"I just explained--"

"No, I've seen several of the rare times you were shot down that badly. You weren't this...happy," she recalled, peering at her father's face. Then, a lightbulb went off in her brain, and her face brightened. "You got laid, didn't you?"

"Whitney, how many times do I have to-"

"You did!"

"Pumpkin, please--"

"And in a hospital, no less! Wow! So did you get a doctor's check-up in an on-call room? Did you take a nurse's temperature in an empty room? Or did you give a patient's grieving family member an extra gift in the gift shop? Maybe you performed a surgical strike in an operating room to save a life?"

"That's enough! No, I did not get laid last night."

"But you definitely had sex last night! You know, I can see the glow coming off you right now," Whitney continued her teasing. "It's incredible! Close the curtains and turn off the lights. I want to see if you glow-in-dark."

"Pumpkin, do you want to recuperate at your mother's place in Guzzle Crossing?"