by Scott, Laura
“Hi, Kate, I need a huge favor. Any chance you’d swap Wednesday night for Thursday? I need to get Ty to the doctor Friday morning.”
“Sure,” Kate readily agreed. “No problem. I don’t have any big plans this week anyway.”
“Great.” Shelly blew out a sigh of relief. “I owe you one.”
“Nah, just take care of that cute son of yours.” Kate disconnected from the line before Shelly could say anything more.
Relieved to have that done, she made the changes on the master schedule, then went out to find Ty. Her steps slowed when she found him with Jared who was dressed in street clothes, instead of his usual flight suit. She winced, realizing she’d inadvertently told Ty a lie.
Jared wasn’t working today after all.
“Hi, Shelly.” Was it her imagination or did his gaze hold a hint of longing? “How are you feeling?”
“Much better, thanks.” Because of her illness, her workdays had gotten off track, so she hadn’t flown as much with Jared as she originally had been scheduled. And now she’d changed her upcoming shift, too. Fate was obviously giving her a helping hand in avoiding Jared as if reinforcing that her decision to stay away from him was the right thing to do.
“Mom, Mr. Jared said he’d love to have dinner with us.” Ty dipped and swirled a small toy helicopter, one Reese must have given to him.
Her eyes widened with dismay. “Ty, I don’t have anything planned for dinner. I thought we’d stop on the way home to pick up something.” She could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Not easy being caught red-handed in a fib.
“There’s a restaurant down the road a bit that caters to families.” Jared’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and she hid a wince. The white lie hung heavy between them. “My treat.”
“Jared?” Jessica poked her head out of the debriefing room. “Dr. Evans called to see if you would mind working his night shift tonight and tomorrow night. His wife just went into labor.”
Saved by the birthing mother, Shelly thought with relief as Jared nodded. “Of course. He warned me her time was near. Tell him not to worry about the night shifts and to let us know how things go. I’m rooting for a girl at eight pounds to win the baby pool.”
“Will do, but I have a boy coming in at seven pounds eight ounces, so I’m going to win the pool.” Jess laughed before ducking back out of the room.
“Sorry, Ty. I guess we’ll have to do this another time.” Jared smiled at her son, placing his hand on Ty’s shoulder. “Take care and listen to your mom, okay?”
“I will.” Ty was disappointed, but he didn’t put up a fuss as they left the hangar. To make up for it, and to ease her guilty conscience, Shelly took him to the family restaurant Jared had suggested. Ty appreciated the kid-friendly atmosphere, but she knew he would have enjoyed himself more if Jared had come along with them.
That night, Ty included Jared in his nightly prayers, and Shelly felt the fissure in her heart widen. Her son missed having a father figure in his life, and she was at a loss as to what to do about it.
When she was alone in her room, she took out her journal. She hadn’t written an entry in almost a week, but she needed to pen one now.
Mark, there are thousands of single mothers in the world raising children on their own, but how do they manage to make up for the absence of a father? I can’t bear the thought of Ty being hurt, but at the same time, he clearly yearns for a male role model to look up to.
Then there’s the issue of his potential illness. Even if I found someone to love, someone I could imagine spending the rest of my life with, is that really fair when the road of Ty’s future will be filled with rocks and boulders? Even the strongest of marriages have caved under that level of pressure.
I want to give Ty the best chance at a normal life, but at what emotional cost? Is it better for Ty to live without a father or to have a father that he loves then loses? Neither option is acceptable, yet it’s a decision I could be forced to make.
I would gladly forsake my own happiness if it meant giving Ty what he needed. Times like this, I really wish I had someone else to talk to.
Shelly.
THE NEXT NIGHT, she left Ty with his friend, Alex, and headed into work. When she saw Jared seated in the debriefing room, her pulse kicked up a notch, belatedly remembering he was here, covering for Rick Evans.
“So what’s the news on Mrs. Rick Evans?” She helped herself to a cup of coffee. Working the graveyard shift shot her sleep cycle off-kilter, and she’d need the caffeine to get through the next twelve hours. She’d tried to take a nap while Ty was at school but hadn’t slept well.
“Baby girl, Clarise Marie Evans, seven pounds, two ounces.” Jared gestured toward the white grease board where the baby pool was written. “Guess what? You won fifty dollars. You beat me out by guessing closest to the weight.”
“I did? Wow. I’ll put that in my hot water heater fund. Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket,” she joked.
Jared frowned and was about to stay something when their pilot, Dirk, came into the room to begin the debriefing.
She didn’t have time to wonder what Jared had been about to say because shortly after the debriefing, their first call came in.
“Seven-year-old needing an ICU-to-ICU transfer to Children’s Memorial. He’s highest on the list for a liver transplant, and they have a match.” Shelly read the page out loud.
“Let’s go,” Jared said.
Dirk had just finished telling them the weather conditions, which were good for flying, so they simply grabbed their gear and made their way to the chopper. Once airborne, Shelly listened as Dirk went over the flight plan.
Their destination hospital wasn’t far, only a thirty-minute flight. Shelly remembered once flying seven hours to Michigan to pick up a pediatric patient who needed to come to Children’s Memorial for a heart transplant.
Even with their gear and helmets on, she was keenly aware of Jared sitting beside her. She couldn’t imagine sitting beside him like this during a fourteen-hour round trip. Small doses of him were difficult enough. Fourteen hours and her nerves would be shot.
Shelly kept her attention focused on the view out the window, although the chances of geese flying at night were non- existent. Still, her job was to help the pilot keep an eye out for any flight hazards, and if that meant staring out the window instead of talking to Jared, then that’s exactly what she’d do.
As if he sensed her reluctance to chat, Jared remained silent as well. Or maybe he was angry with her. He’d greeted her cheerfully enough, but now things were strained between them. She didn’t understand since he’d seemed willing, almost anxious to take them out for dinner when Ty had asked.
“ETA five minutes,” Dirk announced through the headset.
“Roger that.” Shelly pulled the flight bag toward her and double-checked the equipment. The shift prior to theirs should have restocked the bag, but she wanted to make sure. If something crucial was missing, they could restock at the hospital if needed.
“Prepare to land.” Dirk was older than Reese with many more flight hours logged under his belt. But in her opinion, his landing was bumpy compared to what she experienced when Reese was in the pilot’s seat.
She and Jared disembarked from the chopper and wheeled the gurney inside. Their patient, Craig Adams, lay listlessly in his bed. His skin was an eerie shade of orange—Shelly was shocked at how jaundiced he was. The poor kid clearly needed a new liver to survive.
His mother sat beside him, her expression sad but hopeful. Shelly flashed her a reassuring smile as she approached the bedside. “Hi, Craig. We’re here to take you to Children’s Memorial.” She covered his thin arm with her hand. “Have you ever flown in a helicopter before?”
Craig turned his head toward her, and she wanted to weep when she realized just how sick he was. His breathing was shallow, his pulse far too high. Even the whites of his eyes were yellow. “No.” His voice was pathetically weak.
“Well, you’r
e in for a treat.” She had to push the words past her constricted throat. The poor child looked so awful she could only imagine how much worse he must have felt. While she talked, she quickly switched the lines and cables over to their portable monitoring equipment while Jared spoke to the transferring physician. “You’ll be able to tell all your friends how you flew in the Lifeline helicopter.”
“Won’t they be jealous?” his mom gamely added.
The corner of Craig’s mouth tipped up in a smile. Shelly wondered how long he’d been waiting for a liver transplant. Obviously, too long. She swallowed hard. Would this be Tyler in a few years? Too sick to move as he waited for his kidney transplant?
Don’t do this, she warned herself sharply. Tyler doesn’t have liver failure. Kidney dialysis wasn’t the greatest option in the world, but it was a decent bridge to a transplant. There wasn’t an artificial bridge to a new liver. This boy needed a liver transplant or he would die.
Did Craig’s mother know how serious the situation was? By the hopeful expression in her eyes, Shelly wasn’t certain. Surgery in and of itself was always a risk. Anesthesia, bleeding, infection—the complications were many. And once he made it through surgery, he’d have to take a boatload of medication to keep his tiny body from rejecting the new organ. All transplant patients—heart, lung, liver, or kidney—had to take the same antirejection medication.
Her fingers fumbled with the IV tubing. She blinked, trying to focus. Jared reached around her and gently took the tubing from her hands.
“I’ve got it.” His voice was kind and gentle as if he sensed her inner turmoil.
Her smile of gratitude was brittle. She longed to lean on him, to verbalize her worst fears, but this wasn’t the time or the place. Craig needed her. This transplant was needed in order for him to survive to see his eighth birthday.
“Ready?” Jared asked.
“Yes.”
“Let’s go.”
Jared told Craig’s mother they would meet her at Children’s Memorial hospital, reinforcing the rule against parents riding along. Once they were back up on the helipad and had Craig loaded safely in the helicopter, years of training took over. She and Jared fell into a well-executed rhythm.
Shelly placed the patient headphones over Craig’s ears, then pushed the button on her microphone. “Craig? Can you hear me?”
The boy’s yellow eyes widened with excitement, and he nodded. She smiled. “Good. If you need anything, just let us know. We can hear you, too. First, we need to listen for a minute while the pilot takes off.”
“Ready for takeoff,” Dirk intoned over the intercom.
“We’re ready back here,” Jared responded.
Craig seemed to enjoy the novelty of flying, and after they reached their cruising altitude, Shelly helped prop up his shoulders so he could look out the window.
“The lights are so pretty,” he whispered.
Shelly gently squeezed his bony shoulders, her heart breaking over how thin and weak he was. “Yes, they are,” she agreed.
The only problem they encountered during the flight was a mild bout of motion sickness. Jared gave Craig medication to ease his nausea, and he felt better by the time they were approaching Children’s Memorial.
“We’re almost there,” Shelly encouraged the boy as Dirk announced their ETA of five minutes.
“That was fun,” Craig said with a weak smile.
“I’m glad.” Shelly blinked away the tears that threatened, hoping and praying that Craig would survive long enough to brag to his friends about how he’d ridden in the Lifeline helicopter.
JARED WATCHED Shelly as closely as he watched over their young patient. Something was wrong, she seemed distracted, emotional. Just as he was wondering if he needed to ground her from flying, she quickly grabbed his arm.
“Craig’s breathing is worse,” she said. “I noticed a five-second pause between breaths. His pulse oximeter readings are okay, but I think he’s retaining carbon dioxide. I think he needs to be intubated and don’t want to wait until we get to the PICU.”
As she spoke, she pulled the necessary equipment out of their flight bag.
Jared nodded, taking the laryngoscope and the endotracheal tube from her fingers. They were already starting to land, but he’d rather intubate now, in the chopper, than in the middle of the hospital elevator.
“Dirk, make it a smooth approach. We’re intubating back here. Shelly, give him a milligram of versed and then use the Ambu bag to give several deep breaths.”
Shelly gave the medication, then provided two deep breaths. Jared use the scope to visualize Craig’s vocal cords, then proceeded to place the breathing tube. Shelly placed a device on the end of the tube to verify placement, then taped it into place.
“We’re down,” Dirk informed them.
“Just in time,” Jared murmured. He and Shelly quickly pulled Craig out of the helicopter, then got him into the pediatric ICU. Upon arrival, Jared insisted they draw an arterial blood gas. He was relieved to know that the boy’s levels were abnormally low but weren’t as bad as he’d initially thought. Placing the breathing tube had been the right thing to do.
“Ready?” he asked, looking at Shelly.
She nodded, although she seemed loath to leave. Their pagers went off, indicating they had another call. They rushed back out to the chopper and were in the air within ten minutes. But almost as soon as they reached flying height, the call was canceled. Dirk banked the helicopter and headed back to the hangar.
“Lifeline to base, what was the reason for the cancelation?” Jared asked. The call had been for a severely premature infant to be transported to the neonatal intensive care unit.
“Baby took a turn for the worse,” the base dispatcher informed him. “Survival is doubtful, so the emergency transport was canceled.”
He felt bad about the baby, but some things just weren’t meant to be. “Roger that, ten-four.”
Shelly continued to appear withdrawn when they returned to the hangar. Jared let her stew for a while before he couldn’t stand it a moment longer.
“Shelly, what’s wrong?” He didn’t tap-dance around the issue; the next call could come in at any moment. “You’re not in any condition to fly.”
“What?” A green spark flared in Shelly’s eyes, and she straightened her shoulders. He wanted to applaud with approval at her instant reaction. “Of course, I can fly. Why would you question my ability to care for patients?”
“You’ve been seriously preoccupied since we responded to Craig’s call. I wasn’t sure who I needed to worry about more, you or Craig.” Jared gestured toward the sofa. “Talk to me. Are you worried about Ty?”
“I—yes.” Shelly momentarily rubbed her eyes. “I’m fine to fly, honest. I’d never risk any harm coming to my small patients.”
He held her gaze, waiting for more.
She squirmed, then sighed. “I’m a little worried about Ty, that’s all. He has some testing scheduled on Friday morning.”
Pleased with her admission, he gentled his tone. “What sort of tests? I know he had a bladder infection several days ago, but that’s not totally uncommon in kids. I had a series of bladder infections when I was young, but eventually grew out of them.”
“You did?” Her eyes widened with interest. “What happened? How did you grow out of them?”
“Well.” He cleared his throat and told himself there was nothing to be embarrassed about. “My right ureter was crooked when I was born. It eventually straightened out, and the infections went away.” He reached over to take Shelly’s hand. “I’ll go with you to Ty’s tests if you like.”
She didn’t answer right away but stared at their joined hands. He ached to pull her into his arms. When she finally spoke, her voice was so low he had to strain to listen.
“I suspect Ty’s problems are more serious than that. During his last routine checkup, the pediatrician told me his kidney lab values were on the high side, heading toward abnormal. Based on his history with the
bladder infections, the doctor recommended additional testing. Seeing Craig so sick, waiting for a transplant, was like visualizing Ty’s worst-case scenario.”
“Shelly, as a nurse I can understand why you’re thinking the worst. But you also know that the chances are good that Ty will be fine.” His thumb stroked the back of her hand. Her skin was soft, and he remembered their embrace as if it were yesterday. She’d haunted him in the days they’d been apart. He’d missed her, more than he thought possible.
Had she missed him? He suspected not. The Wonder Woman persona had returned. She was one of the strongest women he’d ever known.
“Maybe. But with his creatinine on the high side, it’s hard not to suspect the worst. Lately, being surrounded by these sick kids has started to bother me.” She hesitated, shrugged. “It may be time for a career change.”
“Don’t jump to leaving pediatric nursing just yet.” Jared tried not to show his panic. Shelly was a great peds nurse, one he’d hate to lose. “Sick kids are always more difficult to care for, that’s why they’re so rewarding.”
“Yes. But you mentioned I looked preoccupied and that’s concerning.”
“You also picked up on Craig’s abrupt respiratory decline,” he was quick to point out. “You’re an excellent nurse, Shelly. Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’m sure you’ll feel better once Ty’s testing has been completed. I’d really like to be there for you on Friday.”
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine.” She gave his hand a slight squeeze, then gently pulled away. He tried not to grind his teeth in frustration. Why was she so determined to do everything alone? Why couldn’t she accept his support, even as a friend?
Or as more than a friend?
“I care about Ty, too.” He tried one last time to make her understand. She held herself aloof, but he craved so much more. “He’s a great kid. Will you at least call me when his test results come back?”
“I—yes. Of course. I’ll let you know his results.” She sent him a perplexed look. “I didn’t realize you two were so close. Ty talks about you all the time.”