“Well, we better get moving, Vin. This is going to be an interesting day, kid.”
The three of them stood.
“I’ll take him up to the floor and introduce him,” Helen said. “It’s on my way.”
Gina reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Give me a call later, let me know how it’s going.”
He gave her a wide smile. “I’ll do that.”
* * *
Dominick stared at his cell phone. He’d been trying to work up the courage to call his parents for the last ten minutes. In agitation, he’d paced around his room, thrown darts at Gina’s picture, until he couldn’t stand the tension anymore.
He’d been in Frisco a week now and had accomplished nothing. He still hadn’t found Gina and he was at a dead end. The city was just too big with too many hospitals to scout out, to find the bitch. And it wasn’t because he hadn’t tried. He’d only gone to a couple when he realized there was no way he could cover all the shifts, all the entrances, all the ... everything.
It was sickening. There were so many ins and outs of these big buildings, she could disappear through one door while he was still scanning another -- and he’d never know he missed her. It was never going to work, unless he was really lucky.
Yeah, and his luck hadn’t been so good lately.
Man, he didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to call home, but he needed to stop spinning his wheels. His money was going down the drain, some on rent, some on food. Mainly, he couldn’t stop popping into bars and drinking– and there were plenty of bars in the Tenderloin. If this kept up, he’d have to get some kind of gig to make some change for his pocket to cover day-to-day living expenses.
He grabbed his cell and punched in his parents’ number.
The phone rang and rang. All kinds of possible situations, possible lies were racing through his head –none of them good enough, especially if his mother answered.
No answer. He breathed a sigh of relief and was about to disconnect when his mother’s voice came on the other end.
“Ye-e-es.”
“Hi Mom.”
She immediately started screaming at him. “What’sa matter with you? You take-a my money and leave-a town. You’re an idiot. Capish?”
“Yes, mom.”
“If it wasn’t for your sister I would-a thought you dead. At least you talk-a to her. No respect … lie to your own-a mama.”
“I’m sorry mom. I’m really sorry.”
“Your parole man, he call, say you gonna go back to prison when they find you. Capish? Back to jail!”
“Please don’t tell them I’m in California.”
“Why-a you there?”
“I came to apologize to Gina for what I did. I shouldn’t have hurt her.”
“So? Apologize, come-a home to the family.”
“I’m having trouble finding her.”
“At least Vinnie’s a good boy. He call his mama, say he gonna work with Gina in the same-a hospital.”
Know what I’d like to do with that “good boy.” If I ever see the little prick, I’ll break his neck. A fuckin’ soldier. Who cares?
“Vinnie’s out here in California?” Dominick held his breath. “So, what’s the name of the place?”
He grabbed up a dart and threw it. It hit Gina’s picture, stabbed her right between the eyes.
Chapter 7
Elyse Kyser lay shivering on her bed. She was naked under the sheets, covered in sweat; the linen had turned clammy and sticky.
Every morning for the past month she’d tried to swallow back the waves of nausea that wouldn’t stop crawling up her throat, but she couldn’t stop them. She pushed herself up and ran to the bathroom, barely making it in time.
The dry heaves and gagging that followed were even worse than the vomiting. She reached out for a washcloth, soaked it with cool water, and pressed it against her forehead to calm the spasms – it was the only thing that seemed to work. She squeezed the cloth and dribbled the moisture down her face, across her breasts, and onto to her belly and thighs.
Tears gushed; she couldn’t stop sobbing.
I’ve always been so careful. How could this happen to me?
She walked on unsteady feet back to her bed and stretched out, arms over her head, hands resting on the pillow. She looked up at a colorful butterfly mobile hanging from the ceiling.
It looked so innocent.
The structure drifted one way, then the other. The room started spinning; she had to turn away.
This was the third day she’d had to call in sick.
I’ve already missed two periods. I have to make a decision, do something, and do it quickly.
Any more sick days and her cashier’s job at Denny’s would be out the window. The money barely covered the rent and her savings account was almost bottomed out.
Need to find a second job. Can I even study, stay in college with two jobs?
Her mind refused to settle down. She couldn’t concentrate on present or future plans while her thoughts were filled with such self-hatred – how could she have been so stupid to go to bed with Thad?
Slowing her breathing, focusing on it, she soon realized how peaceful it was just to lie in bed following her breath.
In some strange way it made her feel translucent. Yes, that was the only word for it. Translucent.
When she closed her eyes she could see and feel every cell in her body float and fill with light. A new life was growing inside of her – she could visualize the frenzied cell division exploding in the embryo buried in the lining of her uterus. That thought consumed her every single day, from the moment she rose from the depths of sleep to the surface of complete awareness.
She looked at all the photographs hanging on the walls of her tiny apartment. Every bit of space was taken, each picture shoved right up against the next one. She particularly liked the one she’d recently purchased from Charlie Fortune – she’d barely had room to squeeze it in even after rearranging all the others. His series of what he called Ocean Flash haunted her. In this picture, he’d captured that single moment when a powerful ocean wave rose up and majestically hung in space before collapsing back into the vastness of an endless sea.
She couldn’t afford any of these photographs, but she’d had to have them. Like the night she thought she had to have Thad, even though she’d forgotten to take the pill that morning. His lies made her feel beautiful, but he’d used her flesh, then told her it was only a one-night stand. That, right after they’d had sex. And true to his word, he’d ignored her in their Ocean Science class ever since.
What had she seen in him anyway?
That’s what I get for taking a night off from studying and going out with some classmates for drinks. Doing something I shouldn’t have been doing.
That’s how I always get into trouble.
Desperate thoughts flashed through her head.
What am I going to do?
My parents will kill me if they find out.
I can’t raise a child alone. I can barely take care of myself.
One lousy missed pill and I get caught.
Elyse got dressed. She opened her bedside table and pulled out a package of crackers she kept stored next to her iPad. The paper crackled as she opened it and pulled out a cracker; she took a deep breath when it managed to stay down. She swallowed a few sips of bottled water and looked up the address for Planned Parenthood. She had heard how helpful they could be. Maybe if she could talk to a counselor she wouldn’t feel so alone, so frightened.
She forced herself to get dressed, gathered her backpack, purse, and was out the door.
* * *
When Elyse arrived at the small, two-story building, there was a large crowd of people parading in front carrying placards showing pictures of dead fetuses. The men and women carrying the signs were yelling at anyone who dared to walk past them into the clinic.
Elyse edged toward the entrance, but her legs refused to move any farther. She stood paralyzed, not kno
wing whether to walk on into the building, or leave.
One of the jeering men separated himself from the group. Without hesitation, he singled her out, hurried up to her, holding a sign imploring God to save her soul – he held it out and shook it like a rattle in front of him.
“You murdering whore,” he screamed, inches from her face. “I would throw you in prison and let you rot.” Spittle splattered her cheeks. “You will be punished!”
One of the others grabbed his elbow. “Marvin, stop it. Don’t do this!” Marvin resisted, but was ultimately yanked away.
A news team was standing at the edge of the crowd, waiting for any sign of trouble so they could capture it on camera; they started to move in Elyse’s direction.
Shaking, she turned away and hurried back to the bus stop.
Chapter 8
Gina didn’t know whether to be thrilled or annoyed. She’d envisioned taking Vinnie to Internal Meds and introducing him to the nurses.
He’s my brother, after all. Helen just snatched him away.
Gina hated that petty, mean side of her, the part that oozed out when she least expected it.
You want your brother to be happy, don’t you?
His eyes hadn’t lit up like that since he’d arrived in San Francisco. It was almost magical the way he and Helen had clicked.
That really surprised Gina. Helen was not too fond of the male sex – she’d been crushed in too many relationships. Was it the vulnerability written all over Vinnie’s face?
Maybe this was what they both needed.
Gina walked slowly to the overpass that connected the main hospital and the clinics. She had hoped to find a spot in the Oncology Unit when she returned from Nevada, but the only openings were in the Outpatient clinics. At least she didn’t have to go back to Telephone Advice where she’d taken a call that had gotten her into all sorts of trouble. Who would have thought talking on the telephone could be so dangerous?
Well, that was in the past. Now she would be working in the Outpatient Ob/Gyn clinic in a different capacity. At least it was a service she really enjoyed.
She was a few minutes early, but when she walked down the hallway to the Woman’s Health unit, Darcy Yamashita, the manager, was waiting for her.
“Hi, Gina.” She was wearing her name tag on her spotless white coat, and gave Gina a firm handshake.
Darcy was somewhere in her fifties, and Gina had liked her instantly when she’d been interviewed by her for the position; she seemed like a very warm and direct person.
“Welcome to our group. Come on, I’ll show you around.”
They walked through the Ob/Gyn waiting room. “This area was recently renovated,” Darcy said. “Believe it or not, they even asked us to pick out our own colors. What do you think?”
“It’s quite nice.”
The walls were a soft green and there was no particular format or theme to the displayed art. Abstract and representational paintings hung side by side. It was obvious that all the chairs were newly upholstered in a pattern of dark green and coral geometrical designs. It felt cheerful.
As they walked down the hallways, the personnel they passed smiled at them. Darcy greeted most of them by their first names, and made introductions to several nurses and the janitor, who was vacuuming the floors.
Gina began to relax. Things were looking good.
“This wing is mostly devoted to prenatal care,” Darcy said.
“Do you do your own high-risk screening?”
“Yes, and the routine high-risk prenatal care and counseling.”
“Who follows those patients?”
“Mostly the NPs, but there’re a few MDs involved. You won’t be working in this wing. You’re scheduled for Family Planning and Diagnostics.”
Even though Gina had worked the telephones in Ridgewood’s Ob/Gyn Advice Center, these clinics were a whole other universe. She felt a rush of excitement – direct relationships with people was why she had gone into nursing.
They turned into another wing and immediately came to a bold sign.
Procedures in Progress. Please Lower Your Voice.
Gina gave the manager a questioning look.
Darcy seemed embarrassed. “There have been a number of complaints about the noise level in the corridors,” she said. “I guess if you were having an abortion, you might complain about people laughing and carrying on outside your door.”
“Do you do many therapeutic abortions in the clinic?”
“Quite a few TABs. People like the anonymity of coming to clinics that have all kinds of medical services other than birth control and abortions,” Darcy said. “That way they’re not singled out and subjected to protest groups that and harass them outside places like Planned Parenthood. That kind of attention makes a lot of women feel even guiltier than they do already.”
“I can understand that.”
“Speaking of which,” Darcy said, “you’ll be expected to rotate with two other nurses to assist with TABS and diagnostic procedures, along with three medical assistants.”
“What kind of diagnostics are you referring to?”
“The standard treatments for fibroid problems: uterine artery embolization for one, or endometrial ablation for bleeding problems. You know,” Darcy said, “the usual garden variety that goes along with a GYN practice.”
She pointed to the nurses’ station. “That’s where the nurses hang out … but of course, I don’t need to tell you about that place.”
“No, I’ve spent a lot of time in them.”
A woman dressed in scrubs started to hurry past the two of them, but Darcy said, “Hang on a minute, Thelma. I want you to meet our new nurse, Gina Mazzio.”
“Hi,” Gina said, offering a hand to the woman. Thelma barely shook her hand. Her only other response was the hint of a smile.
“Thelma is one of our best medical assistants,” Darcy continued. “She’ll be a great help to you.”
Darcy and Gina walked into the station, where two RNs were studying computer notes at a long desk, the exact size of the overhanging counter above it. Both nurses looked up and away from their computers.
“Gina Mazzio, meet Taneka Gray, the unit team leader, and Carrie Donovan, currently our only other staff nurse.”
“It’s about time we got some more help,” Carrie said, her voice quavering.
Gina noticed her eyes seemed glassy, too bright.
Does she have a fever?
“We’re really glad to have you,” Carrie said. “We’ve been drowning here.” She shook Gina’s hand and then picked up the antibacterial foam container on the desk. “Sorry, you know how it is.”
Her hand was so hot.
“Oh, yeah,” Gina said. “I practically bathe in the stuff.”
Carrie’s body language was off. She seemed sick to Gina. Her hands were trembling when she rubbed them together to absorb the puff of foam.
Something’s definitely wrong with this one.
“Welcome,” Taneka said, friendly but reserved. The black woman had a beautiful smile, but it seemed that she had other things on her mind that probably had nothing to do with Gina.
“Why don’t the two of you take over and introduce Gina to the unit and the rest of the personnel,” the manager said. “She’ll learn a lot more about how everything works from you.” She raised a hand and wiggled it. “See you later, gang.”
* * *
“Carrie seems ill,” Gina said as she and Taneka wandered through the unit. Taneka hesitated before responding. “She hasn’t felt well today.” She paused, then added, “And that after just taking a few days off.”
“Maybe she should go home.”
Taneka laughed. “She’d better not. There’s too much to do and not enough hands to do it.”
“But if she’s sick—”
“And this is the TAB room,” Taneka said, as though she hadn’t heard. They walked past a crash cart and into a small surgical suite.
Gina looked around. It wasn’t exactly
spacious, but there was room enough to do what had to be done. A counter with drawers and a row of cabinets above and below it had labels pasted on all the outer surfaces telling what supplies were hidden out of sight. The white Formica countertop had jars of the usual 4x4s, packaged syringes, solutions, applicators. Operating room lights hung over the table, and equipment stood ready to hook up, follow and record a patient’s vital signs. An IV stand, sentinel-like, waited for someone to hang necessary fluids. Floor-to-ceiling cabinets were at the back of the room, and in the corner at the foot of the table was a TAB suction machine with all its tubing.
“As you can see,” Taneka said, “it’s all pretty much standard.”
“What’s in the cabinets over there?” Gina pointed to the back of the room.
“Literature ... all kinds. After-care instructions. Birth control info.” Taneka laughed. “Also, extra pillows, a blanket … whatever else needs to be stuffed out of the way.”
“How many abortions do you do in a day?”
“Usually two or three, three times a week, depending on the available room status. Any more questions?”
“No. Like you said, all standard stuff.”
“Okay,” Taneka said. “Let’s wander over to the GYN procedure rooms.”
* * *
It looked like a smooth, well-organized clinic. Gina mentally patted herself on the back for her luck in slipping into this job.
This is going to be great.
When they came to the nurses’ station again, Carrie was sitting at the desk, her head in her hands. When she looked up, her eyes were wild, unfocused. She jerked up and clutched her chest. Gina and Taneka rushed and caught her as she started to fall to the floor.
“I knew there was something wrong,” Gina said. “Carrie, can you talk, tell us what’s going on?”
“My heart … it’s racing … I can barely breathe.” Carrie began to shake so hard they could hear her teeth chattering.
“We need to get her to the ER,” Taneka said, grabbing a phone from the desk.
Gina grabbed Carrie, reached out to take her pulse.
Bone of Contention: A Medical Thriller With Heart (The Gina Mazzio Series Book 4) Page 3