She pondered. “About a four.”
That was half the level of discomfort from yesterday. “Let’s have a look.” Robin drew back the cover and sheet to examine the afflicted limb. The redness had abated, and the swelling reduced. She replaced the covers. “Feel like going home tomorrow?”
The woman’s face lit up. “Can I?”
“We’ll keep an eye on you today. If you remain stable, you’ll be discharged in the morning. You’ll need to continue taking the blood thinner medication at home until we see you for your follow-up next month.”
Mrs. K nodded. “I will.”
“I’ll have the physical therapist come by today with a cane. She’ll show you how to use it to support your leg. We’ll want you taking short walks around the house two or three times a day.” Robin patted the woman’s shoulder. “No half marathons or anything, just enough to keep you limber.”
“Okay,” she agreed.
“Good. I’ll go over everything with you and your husband before we check you out.”
Mrs. Kerwood beamed. “I’m not sure which of us will be happier about me coming home.”
“Celebrate, but no break dancing, okay?” Giving Mrs. K a last shoulder squeeze, she walked out to find Dr. Richman waiting in the corridor. Robin’s relief gave way to wariness.
He cocked his head toward Mrs. Kerwood’s room. “How is she? I heard about the DVT.” He frowned, his salt-and-pepper eyebrows forming a disapproving furrow.
“Better.” Robin filled him in on her status.
Richman’s expression softened a bit. “And the referrals?”
Robin cleared her throat. “About to get to the last of them.”
His eyes bored into Robin’s. “Then I won’t keep you from it, nurse.”
“No sir,” she mumbled, hurrying to her office.
The stack of pink message slips awaited her. Her voicemail added two more new referrals. She had at least ten prospective subjects to schedule for intakes. She wondered where she would fit all the appointments. It might be time for one of her staff to pick up some sessions. But training someone in the intake protocol would take even more of her time, and Richman might view that as a sign of being in over her head.
Perhaps she was. Robin recalled her talk with Will at the briefing. Try to view the study from a macro perspective rather than a personal one, he’d told her. She realized at that moment that she’d reached a transitional point in her career. Always a hands-on nurse, she needed to shift her eye to the big picture and delegate judiciously.
Confine her personal worries to off-work hours.
Robin picked up the first of the pink slips, determined to get caught up on the backlog. Then she would train one or two staff members to assist with future intakes. Richman would see the delegating as a response to increased patient flow rather than a dodge for her own negligence. After she tackled the referrals, perhaps she would send an email to Will and see if she might borrow another cup of his mentoring. The prospect made her smile.
Half an hour later, when Robin had put a dent in the pink mountain, her cell phone played her son’s ringtone. Sean almost never called her during work hours. She still intended to keep personal matters out of her workday, but Sean was another story.
“Hi,” she greeted. “Everything okay?”
“That’s what I called to ask you, Mom.”
Robin kicked into yellow alert. “What do you mean, Sean?”
“It’s really weird. I got this letter—vague, threatening—warning me you were in some kind of danger. Mom, what’s going on? Are you all right?”
“Oh no.” The words left her mouth before she could self-edit. “I mean, yes, I’m fine, dear. Exactly what did the letter say? Who sent it?”
“That’s partly why it’s so strange. No signature or return address, but the postmark is from New Jersey.”
Robin’s heartbeat quickened. “What does it say?”
“It says, ‘You’d better come home and keep an eye on your mother. She’s heading for serious trouble.’ Mom, what does it mean? Should I get on a train and come down there?”
“No!” She hadn’t meant to put such vehemence in the word, but the last thing Robin wanted was Sean neglecting his end-of-semester work to become embroiled in her mess. She softened her tone. “No, dear. It’s—I think it’s a practical joke.” Lame, but the best she could come up with. If he knew the situation, he would insist on coming.
“Not very funny.” Sean sounded unconvinced.
“No, it’s not,” Robin agreed. “But it’s nothing you need to worry about. Finish your semester. Don’t let this foolishness distract you from your exams.”
“But—”
“Everything’s fine. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, as we planned.” At least, she hoped so. Once Sean started his summer internship, it would be hard for him to visit. “Thanks for checking on me, sweetheart.” A lump rose in Robin’s throat. Her love for Sean was the one uncomplicated fact of life.
“Are you sure?”
“No worries. Go ace those exams.”
“Okay.” He still sounded uncertain. “But I’ll be calling to check on you.”
“And you’ll see that I’m fine.” She hoped her voice sounded light and reassuring, even while her pulse raced. “Talk soon, dear.”
Robin ended the call. For a moment, she sat immobilized. Then she frantically grabbed her wastebasket as her stomach lurched, and she became violently sick.
THIRTY-TWO
AMBER
ALEX IS SITTING UP in bed when Gloria lets me into his room. He tells me hi and pats the side of his bed, so I sit there.
“How did you like the book?” he asks.
“It’s pretty good.” I hope he won’t ask how much I read. I only got through a couple of chapters. “That boy in the story...” I try to remember his name.
“Joe Rantz.”
“Yeah, Joe. He was really poor, and his family treated him so mean.”
“They did,” Alex agrees. “Back during the Depression, everybody was poor, and parents didn’t even get in trouble for neglecting their kids.”
I’ve heard of the Depression, I think. It reminds me of how Mom always complains about being depressed. Maybe that’s why she ignores me and Jaden so much. Like Alex said, depression makes parents neglect kids. I shouldn’t complain when Alex has it so much worse. At least these days I get to see Dad without Robin. I just wish he and Jaden wouldn’t keep bugging me about going to see that therapist.
“You have a good mom,” I tell him. “She doesn’t neglect you.”
He mumbles something and looks over my shoulder. When I turn, Gloria’s holding a glass of water and a prescription bottle.
“Time for your medicine, dear.”
Alex screws up his face. “Aww, Mom. I hate those pills.”
She passes him the glass. “But you need them.”
He takes the water, and she opens the bottle, shakes a pill onto her hand, and holds it out to him.
“Can’t I wait? Amber and I are talking.”
“You know the rules.” She moves her hand so the pill is right by his face.
I can tell he’s unhappy. Maybe the medicine tastes bad. One time my mom made me eat liver because it was good for me. Poor Alex.
“Is that the medicine from Robin?” I’ve been praying, like I promised Gloria.
Gloria sighs. “No, dear, not yet.”
Alex opens his hand for the pill. As Gloria drops it, he pulls away, letting it fall onto the bed.
“Very funny,” Gloria says, only she doesn’t laugh. She puts the pill bottle on Alex’s night table and feels around his bedcovers then holds the pill between two fingers. “All right, Butterfingers, down the hatch.”
For a moment, Alex keeps his mouth shut tight while his mother offers him the pill. Then he opens up, and Gloria pops it in. He takes a gulp of water and washes it down. I realize I’ve been holding my breath, waiting to see if he’ll swallow the pill, kind of hoping he won’t.
The phone rings in the other room. Gloria goes to answer it, leaving the pill bottle sitting on the night table. I stare at it but can’t make out the writing on the label. I wonder what medicine Alex takes while we wait for Robin to help him.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying the story about Joe Rantz.”
I almost jump when Alex speaks because I was busy trying to read the medicine label. I shrug. “Yeah, sure.” I don’t want to tell him I only read books when I have to for school. Again, I picture the library book I drew in and got in trouble over. “Actually, I like art better.”
Lucky for me, Gloria comes back into the room before I have to make up more stuff to impress him. “Your mom just called, Amber. She’s running a little late.” She glances at Alex. “What’s wrong, dear?”
I turn and see he’s gone pale, like the last time. Uh-oh.
“Do you need to be sick?” Gloria asks.
Alex nods, his lips squeezed tight. Gloria rushes over, and I barely make it off his bed before she pulls him out of it.
“Let’s get you to the bathroom.” She hurries him away, and in a minute, I hear barfing noises. Ugh. Throwing up is the worst.
While I’m alone, I pick up the medicine bottle from the night table. The first thing I notice is that the prescription’s under Gloria’s name, not Alex’s. It seems strange that she would give him her pills. Maybe it’s because they’re waiting for the real medicine from Robin. I take a closer look at the label and see a long word that starts with “O,” and has the letters “HCL” after it. Then it says “Aspirin” next to that. I wonder why he would need a prescription for aspirin. Maybe it’s a special kind or something.
I hear Gloria talking to Alex in the bathroom, so I go ahead and open the medicine bottle. I take out one of the pills. It’s round and white with a line down the middle and numbers on it, 117. I can’t remember any numbers on the aspirin we have at home, so it must be a special kind.
The toilet flushes. I hurriedly close the medicine bottle and put it back on the night table. I still have the one pill in my hand, so I shove it into my pants pocket just as Gloria and Alex come into the bedroom. Close call, but I don’t think she noticed.
She helps Alex back into bed then closes the blinds. “He needs to rest now.”
“Okay,” I say. It’s the usual routine, almost. “Bye, Alex.”
As I follow her out, I run my fingertip over the pill in my pocket. I sure hope she didn’t count them.
THIRTY-THREE
ROBIN
HAVING NO APPETITE AT lunch break, Robin locked her office door and called Gloria on her cell phone.
“Robin, so nice to hear from you.”
“How dare you threaten my son?”
“Now, why would I do that?” Gloria sounded cool and coy as usual, a cat playing with its captured mouse.
Robin’s pulse pounded in her ears. “I don’t care why,” she snapped. “Just leave Sean out of this.”
“Then you need to keep me up to date,” Gloria retorted, all business. “I want a status update. It’s been a week. Do you have the lab report on Alex’s tumor yet?”
“No. I’d have called you if I did.”
She tsked with disapproval. “Robin, it’s imperative that we get Alex on the right medication before it’s too late. I need to know you’re taking this seriously.”
Robin found it incredible how Gloria managed to seize the upper hand. She called Gloria in a fit of anger over the anonymous letter to Sean yet found herself instantly on the defensive. She took a breath. “Remember, the lab may not come up with a targeted drug to match his tumor. I explained that, Gloria.”
“But they will.” Iron certainty filled her voice.
Robin swallowed. “I think you should prepare yourself for the possibility.”
“No, Robin. You’re the one who needs to be prepared.”
A shiver rippled down Robin’s spine. “What do you mean?”
“In the event that there’s no match, it can only mean one thing.”
Robin held her breath.
“The biopsy specimen was too old.”
“I don’t see how. They don’t go bad, and you told me they drew it only a year ago.”
“If there’s no match, you’ll have to arrange for a new biopsy.”
The audacity of her demand left Robin flabbergasted. “Gloria, that’s impossible. It’s out of the question. There’s no reason the specimen wouldn’t be valid, but in any event, I’m not a physician. I don’t have the authority to order a biopsy for Alex, not even from my own unit, which doesn’t treat children. You’d have to take it up with the pediatric oncology unit, and I don’t think—”
“Not those people,” Gloria broke in. “I’ve had enough of them. They’re useless, incompetent. You’re the one who’ll have to take charge.”
Insane. She was dealing with a crazy woman—relentless and desperate, to boot. Robin had sent in Alex’s specimen in the hope of ending Gloria’s crusade. She saw that hope rapidly fading. She backpedaled. “Gloria, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. The lab results will be here any day. Why don’t we wait and see what we’re dealing with? We’ll take it from there?” Jeez, I’m starting to sound like Ben.
“What we’re dealing with?” Sarcasm laced Gloria’s voice. “I’ll make it crystal clear. Tell me, nurse, how much does Dr. Richman know about what happened at Valley Memorial? Does he know his new research coordinator pleaded guilty to malpractice?”
The question hit Robin like a punch to the stomach. Richman knew there’d been a nondisclosure agreement, though he didn’t know the specific details. She didn’t see how Gloria could possibly know them, and she couldn’t imagine who would have violated the NDA. “Gloria, I don’t know what you think you know, but it’s not a situation I can discuss.”
“Well, Robin, I haven’t signed an NDA. And I might enjoy having a conversation with your boss, if necessary—or maybe even the local newspaper. It so happens I’m friends with a reporter. Don’t you think it would make a juicy story? ‘Nurse With History of Malpractice Heads Up New Cancer Program at Mountainview.’” She chuckled.
Robin’s breath caught. “You’d do that?”
“If you make it necessary.”
Deeper and deeper into the quicksand. Robin tried to calm her racing mind. “Gloria, you don’t want to jeopardize my job. You—you need my help. Don’t you?” Robin’s own words left her disgusted, but she had to buy time to find an escape from the nightmare.
“As long as you prove helpful. As long as you show me you’ll stop at nothing to get my son the treatment he needs. You know, Robin...”
She braced for what Gloria might say next.
“Other hospitals are involved with MATCH. But if I’m forced to take Alex somewhere else, I will make you pay dearly, and Ben too.”
Robin jolted upright in her chair. “What’s Ben got to do with this?”
“Ask him.” Gloria chuckled again. Leaving Robin thoroughly bewildered, she added,
“Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes.” Robin barely managed a whisper.
“I expect to hear from you the instant those lab results arrive.”
“I’ll be in touch,” she said, but Gloria had already ended the call.
THIRTY-FOUR
ROBIN
ROBIN’S HAND TREMBLED AS she put down her phone. Apparently, Gloria’s malignity knew no limits. The letter to Sean was disturbing enough. Now she’d upped the stakes with a blackmail threat—even bringing Ben into the mix. She had no inkling how Gloria could know about the malpractice suit at Valley Memorial. Even if Robin were tempted to head off the damage by telling Richman the real story, she couldn’t. She’d signed the nondisclosure agreement, which Gloria also knew.
Robin wondered where Gloria had gotten her information.
She replayed their conversation in her head, searching for any thread she might latch onto to save herself. The suggestion that she arrange another biopsy for Alex appalled he
r. Such an order was completely beyond her purview. She tried to deflect and redirect Gloria to the pediatric unit, but that tactic didn’t work.
Gloria had described the staff there as useless, incompetent. Robin wondered about the history that had soured Gloria to the pediatric oncology unit. Perhaps if she knew, she might find something useful. It was a longshot but the only idea she could come up with.
Using her work phone, Robin dialed LaToya Johnson, her counterpart for the pediatric oncology unit. Requesting confidential data from a fellow nurse without a signed release was a no-no. But perhaps their collaboration on the hospital’s quality assurance committee might dispose LaToya to help her out, even though her request fell far short of QA standards.
Robin held her breath as LaToya’s extension rang. She hoped it wouldn’t go to voicemail. She was rewarded by the sound of LaToya’s husky voice.
“Robin, hi.” She must have seen Robin’s name on her caller ID. “What’s up, girl?”
“Hi. I—uh, LaToya, I know this is kind of—irregular.” Robin cleared her throat. “But I need some medical information on one of your former patients.”
“Uh-huh. Want to email me the release? Or you can fax it.”
“Well, see, that’s the issue. I don’t exactly have a signed release.”
A long silence greeted Robin’s admission. Finally, LaToya spoke. “I know I don’t need to explain ethical and legal requirements to you, Ms. Quality Assurance. What’s the deal, Robin?”
Robin took a breath. “You know I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important. The patient’s name is Alex Reyes.”
LaToya paused again then asked, “What are you asking about that one for?”
Robin exhaled. She acknowledged knowing him. “The boy’s mother, Gloria, is...” A bit of truth might help pave the way. “A friend of a friend.”
LaToya grunted. “I can’t give out information. But off the record, I’ll tell you this much. You want to stay away from that lady. You understand me? Gloria Reyes ain’t gonna be your friend, Robin.”
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