Robin led Gloria from the cafeteria and through the lobby to the elevators. They rode up in silence, Robin’s mind blank and yet unquiet at the same time. She kept her eyes on the elevator door rather than Gloria. As they ascended, Robin’s arms and legs grew heavier, like dead weight. What she’d agreed to do repulsed her. She wondered if it was too late to back out, but Ben’s words echoed in her mind. Sending in the slides promised to be their best hope of escaping the woman.
The elevator reached the fourth floor, the oncology unit. With a ping, the doors opened. Robin stepped out, Gloria at her heels.
Weekdays or weekends, a hospital unit thrummed with activity. On that Saturday, a cast of doctors, nurses, and aides mingled with patients and visitors. Striving to maintain a neutral, businesslike demeanor, Robin led Gloria down the corridor to a door marked Staff. The room housed a copier, mailing supplies, forms, labels, and other clerical materials. A young woman in green exited the room as they approached, an aide, Robin assumed, based on the color of her scrubs, but fortunately not someone she knew. Robin nodded and waited until she’d reached the end of the corridor.
She faced Gloria. “Why don’t you wait here while I take care of this?”
Gloria sneered. “Not a chance.”
“All right, then,” she muttered. “Come on.” She led Gloria inside. To Robin’s relief, the room was empty.
Wasting no time, Robin pulled supplies from cubbyholes on the wall—a FedEx envelope, a pre-printed mailing label to the regional MATCH lab, a patient identification form for the tissue sample. She brought them to a small desk in the corner of the room, took a pen from the holder, and held it poised over the blank form. My last chance to turn back. Robin hesitated, aware of Gloria hovering over her.
“Go on,” Gloria urged. “What are you waiting for?”
The ballpoint pen slick in her hand, Robin filled out the form: Mountainview Hospital’s identification number for the MATCH project, the day’s date, then the name and date of birth of the patient.
“Huh!”
Robin stiffened at Gloria’s harsh laugh when she entered Ben’s data. She gritted her teeth. “It has to be an adult specimen.”
“Mm-hmm,” Gloria hummed.
Robin thrust the slides and the completed identification form into the FedEx package. She affixed the mailing label and sealed the envelope then stood. The office door opened.
Her boss, Dr. Richman, entered.
“Robin, working on Saturday?” He glanced at Gloria, and his eyes narrowed.
“Steve, hello.” Robin’s pulse pounded in her temples. “I’m not really working, no,” she stammered. “I only came by to make sure this sample goes out today.” She held up the FedEx envelope then dropped it into the basket of pickups.
Steve’s gaze shifted back to Gloria.
“Dr. Richman, this is, uh, Gloria.” Robin swallowed. “My cousin.” She reached for Gloria’s arm. “We were about to leave.”
Gloria wore her Cheshire cat grin. “A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Richman. Are you the medical director?”
“Chief of Oncology.” He regarded Gloria with a poker face.
Gloria extended her hand. “I commend you on you and your team’s wonderful work. The MATCH project—so exciting.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Dr. Richman shook her hand. “Thank you, Ms.—uh, Cousin Gloria.”
Robin tugged at Gloria’s arm. “You don’t want to miss your train.” She led her out the door.
The edge in Dr. Richman’s voice followed them. “See you Monday, Robin.”
“Good job, Nurse Robin,” Gloria whispered.
They hurried toward the elevator. Robin scowled. It was bad luck, running into Steve, especially with Gloria in tow. The last thing she needed was to make her actions more conspicuous. She wondered what he might say to her on Monday about her “cousin’s” presence in a staff-only area. Her stomach roiled. She felt like an overtired child unable to fall asleep, unhappy throughout her body.
Gloria raised her eyebrows. “Now the clock is ticking.”
They reached the elevator, and Robin stabbed the call button. She glowered at Gloria. “Just give back the damned dog.”
TWENTY-FIVE
AMBER
IT’S TIME FOR JADEN’S T-ball practice, and Mom is driving. He gets to sit up front, but I don’t care because I’m getting dropped off at Gloria’s house. We turn onto a street with big trees and older, smaller houses than ours. Mom pulls up in front of one. It has a little porch with one of those chairs to swing on. I’ll bet that’s fun.
“Is this where Gloria lives?” I ask my mom.
“Yes,” she says. “And she has a surprise for you.”
Before I can ask what it is, barking comes from the house.
Jaden hears it too. “Nina!” He’s out of the car before I get my seat belt off.
“Wait!” Mom calls after him, but he runs right up to the house. I don’t wait, either, and catch up to him on the porch. The car door slams as Mom follow us.
Gloria opens the front door, holding Nina by a new red collar. “Quick, come in.”
Nina’s doing her best to get loose.
The moment we’re inside, Gloria lets go. Boy, is that dog ever glad to see us. Jaden’s standing in front of me, and she jumps up and sends him tumbling against me. We both land on the floor with Nina on top of us, not knowing who to lick first.
“Nina, down!” Mom says, but she doesn’t sound mad. I guess she’s glad to see her too.
I’m hugging Nina and crying a little into her clean, white fur. She got groomed, all right. For once, her paws aren’t dirty, which is a good thing, since she puts them right on my shirt.
“Thank you,” I tell Gloria.
“Jaden,” Mom says, “what do you say?”
“Thanks, lady.”
“Come on.” Mom says to him. “We’ll be late for T-ball.”
“Do I have to go?” he whines.
“You can finish saying hello to Nina later. Let’s go.”
He gives Nina a last kiss on her clean head. “You’re so lucky you get to stay,” he tells me and follows Mom out.
“Where did you find her?” I ask Gloria.
“Robin had her, just as we suspected.”
Gloria tells me how she went to Robin’s and got her. She heard barking coming from Robin’s garage, so she banged on her front door. She told Robin she would call the police if she didn’t open the garage right away.
I’m confused, since Mom said she searched but only found Nina’s collar outside. “Why didn’t my mom hear Nina barking when she went to Robin’s?”
“Well...” Gloria gives me a sad look. “I didn’t want to tell you, but Robin had her muzzled in the garage.”
“Oh no.” I tighten my arms around Nina’s neck.
“She only took it off to give the poor dog some water. Luckily I got there when I did.”
That’s for sure.
Robin told Gloria some lame story about finding Nina wandering around her yard. Ha! Fat chance. I hate her. But at least it doesn’t look like she hurt Nina. We’re so lucky to have a friend like Gloria. She’s practically our guardian angel. I’m happy to sit and visit with her son. It’s the least I can do.
Gloria lets me bring Nina into his room with me. Just this once, she says, on account of her fur being bad for his sinuses. He’s lying in bed with no lights on because of his headache, Gloria says. When Alex catches sight of Nina, he sits up. Gloria goes and opens the curtains a bit so we can see each other better, then leaves us alone.
Nina licks Alex’s hands while he pets her. Alex grins, even though his face looks almost as white as Nina’s fur. He must get cold a lot. His room is warm, but his lips are sort of blue, like Mom says mine turn when I’ve been in the ocean too long, and she makes me come out. His eyes seem funny too. He opened them wide when he spotted Nina, and I saw how tiny those black dots are in the middle. Maybe that’s from having the lights off and the curtains closed.
&n
bsp; Alex pets Nina for a while then lies back against the pillows. Nina whimpers and nuzzles him, but he turns on his side.
“You okay, Alex?” I ask.
He mumbles something. I can hardly hear with him facing away from me. I lean in and say his name again. This time I make out what he’s saying. He has to throw up.
I run and get Gloria, who rushes in with a bucket just in time. She holds Alex’s head while he sits up and pukes. Poor kid. Nina curls up in the corner of his room, whimpering. I feel like whimpering too.
Gloria says we should let Alex get some sleep and leads me out of his bedroom. She gets a leash that matches Nina’s new collar and tells me to fasten her to the porch so she won’t disturb Alex.
I take her outside and tie her good and tight, so she won’t run after a squirrel or something. Before I go back inside, I have to take one quick swing on the glider chair. I would like to see how far out it can swing, but I know Gloria’s waiting.
“In here, Amber,” she calls when I come in. I follow the sound of her voice to the kitchen. It’s a separate little room, not connected to a family room, like our house.
“Have a seat,” she says.
I sit down at a round wooden table with cushions on the chairs. It’s kind of old-fashioned but nice. She asks if I would like a Diet Coke while we wait for my mom to pick me up.
“Sure.”
She brings me a glass of soda and sits down at the table. She seems troubled.
“I’m sorry Alex is so sick,” I tell her.
Gloria pats my hand. “It’ll be okay. Robin said she’ll give him the medicine after all.”
“Wow, that’s wonderful. What made her change her mind?”
Gloria shakes her head, but she smiles at the same time. “I don’t know, Amber. Perhaps God heard my prayers and made her do it.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what else to say. We don’t pray in my family, but if Gloria’s right, maybe it works. I might try it.
TWENTY-SIX
ROBIN
ROBIN SPIED BEN ENTERING the Starbucks where they’d agreed to meet for late-morning coffee. He had good news and bad, he’d warned her. The former had been in short supply lately, so Robin braced herself for more of the latter. From her table, she caught Ben’s eye and waved. He motioned that he would get his coffee then join her.
“Well?” she asked as he sat down across from her.
“The kids got Nina back.” He smiled without looking happy.
“So, that’s the good news?” Robin leaned back in her chair. “Let me guess. Gloria returned her.”
Ben sipped his coffee, avoiding her gaze. “Uh-huh.”
“Just like that,” she said bitterly. “Imagine. And how did she explain Nina’s reappearance?”
Ben put up a hand, stopping her questions. “I know. I know. She played the hero, and Vanessa and the kids bought it. But they have their dog back, and we both know it’s thanks to you. So, let’s declare it a victory and move on.”
Some victory. She wished he’d made an effort to defend her. She should have recorded her meeting with Gloria. There had to be a way to do that with a cell phone. Robin eyed Ben. “And the bad news?”
“It’s not all that bad.” The tension in his face suggested otherwise.
Robin sat back and waited.
Ben pushed aside his half-empty cup. “I need to keep the kids away for a while.”
She frowned. “Away from what?”
Ben cleared his throat. “From—uh—you.”
Robin coughed a laugh. “Let me guess. Gloria claimed she rescued Nina from me.”
“Well—yeah. But we know how she operates, don’t we?”
“We do.” Robin twisted her coffee stirrer. “So, I’m persona non grata. Vanessa’s orders?”
Ben grimaced. “Is a time out between you and the kids such a bad idea? You have to admit it’s been pretty stressful lately.”
Robin sipped her coffee, considering his words. Her tenuous relationship with Amber and Jaden had taken a nosedive since Gloria entered the picture. It might be a relief to not face the weekends when Ben had the kids, waiting to hear whether she would be in or out of their plans. A respite might be easier for them all. And yet she’d resolved to be more understanding and compassionate, to seek common ground with Ben’s children. Now that opportunity had been snatched away. Assuming the clouds blew over and she resumed contact, it might be too late to salvage a relationship with them.
Her disappointment must have showed because Ben reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “It will pass, Bird. Once Gloria’s out of our hair, we’ll get back on track.”
Robin bit her lip. “I don’t know, Ben.” She had a grim suspicion that, match or no match, Gloria wouldn’t disappear.
“Hey.” He squeezed her hand. “I love you. You know that, right?”
Robin withdrew her hand. “You say that, and I believe you mean it, Ben. But what kind of future can we have when you’re torn between your children and me?”
“I’m not torn,” he protested. “It’s not a contest. I’m not about to give anyone up. I love you, and I love my kids. I’ll make it work for all of us. I promise.” His dark eyes implored her. “Have faith in me.”
She wanted to. She yearned to be rid of Gloria, to get back to building a future with Ben. “I do,” she murmured. Still she wondered how that faith would hold up over ten long days of awaiting Alex Reyes’s lab work.
TWENTY-SEVEN
ROBIN
BY MIDWEEK ROBIN HOVERED like a vulture, anticipating every FedEx delivery to the clinic. Though it was too soon to expect the MATCH lab report on Alex Reyes, she rifled through the envelopes and packages the moment the delivery boy placed them in the bin every morning and afternoon, each time hoping to find the report and relieved when she didn’t. Although it shamed her, she couldn’t help wishing the lab would fail to find a match for Alex’s tumor specimen, the only outcome that might free her from Gloria’s demands. A positive match would pose the question, What next?
Robin had already crossed a line. Although Dr. Richman hadn’t mentioned Gloria’s presence in the mailroom on Saturday, he had been frosty toward Robin all week. She’d tried to imagine a way to advocate for Alex if a target drug existed for his tumor, but she saw no viable scenario. She’d already asked her boss about admitting Alex to the study, and he’d adamantly refused. If he found out she’d sent in his sample anyway, she would be hard pressed to advocate for herself, let alone Alex. For the time being, all she could do was continue checking the mail—and hope she would come up with an answer when the results arrived.
As she scoured the delivery bin on a Thursday afternoon, one of the day nurses sought her out right before the shift change.
“Robin?”
She picked up the note of concern in the woman’s voice. “Is something wrong, Roxanne?”
“I wanted to catch you before I leave.” She drew in a breath. “It’s Mrs. Kerwood. The edema in her left leg is much worse. I think you should check on her.”
A frisson of alarm skittered down Robin’s spine. All their patients mattered, but Mrs. Kerwood was special to Robin. She’d been among the first to enroll in the MATCH study, and something motherly about the woman touched her. Perhaps her nurses had been too slow to pick up on the edema, and maybe she’d been too distracted to supervise properly.
“Go ahead and finish your charting, Roxanne,” Robin told the nurse. “I’ll check on her right now.”
As Robin approached Mrs. K’s room, beeping signaled a problem with her IV drip. Hurrying to her bedside, Robin checked the IV. A crimp in the line had impeded the flow of the chemo drip. She unsnagged the line, and the beeping ceased.
“Thank you, dear.” Mrs. K’s face appeared drawn. “I signaled for the nurse a few minutes ago, but I guess it must be the shift change.”
“I’m sorry you had to wait.” Robin felt a pang of guilt. Someone should have responded. “How are you feeling today?”
�
�I told the nurse earlier this afternoon that my leg hurts.” Her voice caught. “A lot.”
“Let’s have a look.” Gently, Robin pulled aside the sheet and thin blanket covering Mrs. K’s lower body. She winced at the sight of the afflicted leg. The left thigh showed visible swelling and redness. Robin swore silently. Very likely, she had a deep vein thrombosis—a blood clot with the potential to break loose and carry the risk of a stroke. Someone should have attended to it sooner. Thank heaven Roxanne had given her a heads up. She’d been wandering around on autopilot, counting on her staff to take up the slack. She should know better. She’d learned the danger of that at Valley Memorial.
“How bad is the pain?” Robin asked. “On a scale of one to ten.”
Mrs. K’s lip trembled. “About a seven? Maybe an eight.”
“I’m sorry you’ve been so uncomfortable.” Robin smoothed loose strands of gray hair from her patient’s forehead. “And probably frightened too.”
Mrs. K nodded, her eyes tearing.
Robin squeezed her hand. “I’ll talk with your doctor right away about sending you down to radiology for an ultrasound. We’ll find out what’s going on and take care of it. I promise. Don’t worry.” She would do the worrying for both of them.
Fortunately, they located Mrs. Kerwood’s attending physician on the floor. Within half an hour, she’d examined the patient, confirmed Robin’s diagnosis, and ordered the ultrasound. If the procedure confirmed their physical assessment, Robin knew the doctor would start Mrs. K on a blood thinner. She would ensure her nurses monitored the edema and limited Mrs. K’s physical exertions—not that any patient attached to an IV pole would be jogging or doing jumping jacks. But after the current round of chemo, Mrs. K’s discharge instructions needed to caution against any strenuous activity. Blood thinners could keep a clot from getting worse, but they wouldn’t make it disappear.
Returning to her office, Robin wrapped up her paperwork and glanced at the clock. The long day left her drained yet determined to await the result of Mrs. K’s ultrasound before she left. Unless Radiology had gotten backed up, which sometimes happened, she would hear shortly. Robin shut her eyes, massaging the tension in her forehead. She steadied her breathing until it slowed and deepened.
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