Her parents kept insisting that she should forgive Dominick and heal their broken marriage rather than testify against him in court.
That was never going to happen.
As soon as Dominick was convicted of first degree felony assault and sent off to prison for three-to-five years, Gina filed for and was granted a divorce. She immediately made plans to leave New York − she could no longer be around her parents, anyone else, or anything that remotely reminded her of her ex-husband.
She and her classic Fiat Spyder made the fantastic, inspiring coast-to-coast trek across the U.S., mostly with the top down. She stopped at every tourist and historical spot along the way, taking about twice as long as AAA told her it should take.
She’d only been in San Francisco for a month, and had just finished her second day of orientation at Ridgewood Hospital, when she climbed into the Fiat, lowered the top, turned the key, and heard the infamous click of her temperamental car − its way of saying she wasn’t going anywhere on this particular afternoon.
She was exhausted. After an exceedingly stressful day, all she’d been able to think about was going home, taking a hot shower, and collapsing.
She pounded on the dashboard.
The tension of starting a new job, of meeting so many new people whose names she had to remember, had her tightly wound. And then there was the strangeness of a new city − the sounds were different, people talked weirdly, and body language was difficult to interpret. Everything gave off signals she couldn’t read. It was all alien to her. So un-New York.
She laid her head down on the steering wheel and let the tears flow.
“Now that’s a car you don’t see around here very often,” said a male voice.
It took a long moment for her to realize someone was talking to her. She looked up. “Yeah,” she blurted. That’s all she could manage to say after wiping away a mess of tears on a sleeve. This guy was standing on the passenger side of the car, waiting for her to say something else. “You don’t see much of this car,” she said with a wave of her hand, “anywhere.”
Gina didn’t want to talk to him, or anyone, but he wore scrubs, so she knew he worked at the hospital; she should be some kind of sociable. And besides, he had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.
“You’re new at Ridgewood, aren’t you?” he said.
“And how do you know that?” she said, her hand doing its usual New York flip.
“Well, Gina Mazzio, RN, fresh from the Bronx, who happens to work on the Oncology Unit, I suppose I could give you some kind of pick-up line. But the truth is, I saw you in the cafeteria and asked around about you.”
She flashed one of her widest smiles. She couldn’t help it – the guy was cute, with longish black curly hair, and, maybe it was her imagination, but there was an aura of special warmth that flowed from those incredible eyes. And there was that smile. It was hard to resist.
He reached a hand into the car. “Harry. Harry Lucke.” He firmly, but gently held onto her. hand for a long moment. “And I do believe this really is my lucky day.”
* * *
Helen and Vinnie took the seats Gina and Harry had saved for them. “Hey, sis, you miss me?”
Helen winked at Gina. “Why didn’t you tell me you had this fantastic guy for a brother? I’d have been nicer to you.”
“How’s the new job going, Vinnie?” Gina smiled at her brother, who looked like a different man. He seemed not only relaxed, but he looked stronger ... more like the old feisty Vinnie.
“Hey, Gina, if you’d ever let on that taking care of people was this great, I might not have joined the Marines.”
“Sure, blame it on me, you little brat.”
“The word has already gotten around,” Harry said to Vinnie. “You’ve definitely got the touch.” He waited a beat. “But how are you really doing, kid?”
Vinnie grabbed Harry’s hand and squeezed it. “I haven’t felt this good in a long time.”
“No nightmares so far.” Helen reached out and covered Gina’s hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of him.”
Gina felt better. Much better.
* * *
Harry and Gina squeezed into the elevator to go to their individual units. When the door opened for his floor, he said, “Stay out of trouble.” He kissed her cheek and was off to Critical Care.
Before she could respond, the door slid shut. She thought about what he’d just said and fought off the urge to get off the elevator, hunt him down, and set him straight about this staying out of trouble thing.
It’s wasn’t like she went looking for those gang beatings when she was growing up. Vinnie was luckier − he was a boy. But they’d been raised in a tough neighborhood, and that was that, no changing it. And she didn’t marry Dominick because she wanted trouble.
Could she help it if she had a knack for ending up in the wrong place at the wrong time?
No! To all of the above.
Her cell buzzed as she walked down the hallway; she yanked it out of pocket.
“Hi, sis.”
“Where are you?”
“Just leaving the cafeteria with Helen. She insisted I call to tell you again that things are really all right. Please don’t worry about me.”
“Didn’t it dawn on you that I might worry when you just moved out like that?”
“Gina, I don’t need another mother; I’m old enough to take care of myself. Capish?”
“Yeah, yeah! To me you’re still a dumb kid. Where are you assigned today?”
“Same as before: Internal Meds. Don’t you ever listen to me?”
“I’m sorry, kid. I have some things on my mind and I can’t help worrying about you. Why don’t the three of us take the early lunch slot and play catch-up?”
Gina could hear muffled sounds as he conferred with Helen.
“Okay. See you then.”
She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until he clicked off. She wondered if Harry thought Vinnie hooking up with Helen was on his list of troubles she should stay out of?
And what made him say that in the first place?
* * *
Harry knew he’d overstepped the line as soon as he walked away from Gina.
Man, that was stupid.
He thought about the recent business with the death of the nurse from her unit. Right there. That was out of line. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He was sorry he’d thrown trouble up in her face, but it was true. She needed to stay out of trouble, even though it followed her like a shadow. No matter what she did or didn’t do, trouble always seemed to find her.
He pulled out his cell and hit the button for her number. After getting her voice mail he hung up without leaving a message.
Yeah, she’s pissed at me.
Chapter 24
Jody Simms stood in front of her closet-door mirror, dressing and undressing, trying this top with that bottom, adding this sweater atop that blouse. She’d been at it for almost thirty minutes, going through almost her entire closet and dresser of clothes.
If she didn’t pick out something soon, she was going to be late for school.
“Nothing's going to hide it!” she angrily told herself in the mirror.
She eventually assembled a jumble of things to wear on top, in layers – a yellow, one-size-too-big tee-shirt over a magenta tank top, both covered by an unbuttoned purple blouse. All three hung out over her oldest faded jeans.
She looked in the mirror one last time. “Only two years to go and you’ve literally screwed your way out of ever getting into Stanford.” She shook her head and sneered at herself before leaving the room to go downstairs.
“No time for breakfast,” she announced to her mother as she came rushing down the stairs.
Her mother looked at her, tilted her head to one side, and said, “I thought you gave those clothes away after you lost all that weight.”
“Obviously I kept them.” She snatched a piece of dry toast off the kitchen table. “It’s what I felt like
wearing, Mom.”
Her mother handed over her lunch bag and kissed her on the cheek. “It doesn’t matter, Jody. You always look beautiful.”
Jody ran out the door, afraid she would burst into tears. She threw her books in the back seat of her new VW Bug, tossed her bagged lunch on the passenger seat, climbed in, and started bawling. It had taken everything she’d had to act like it was a normal day, that nothing was new or unusual in her life.
Sure. Normal! Absolutely normal. That’s me all right.
She knew her mother was watching from the living room window. When she looked up, the curtain was parted and her mom was waving. It made her sad. Her mother was so proud of her, trusted her to be sensible, to always do the right thing.
I’ve let you down, Mom. Sorry!
Like any good liar, she smiled and waved back.
When she pulled away from the curb, her stomach did a string of flip-flops. What was she going to do?
Something! She had to do something! She was three months late for her period.
When she should have been doing homework last night, she’d scrolled through all of the networks and blogs all the kids visited, searching for anything with her name in it. She had to know if Richie or Bobbie had posted something about that night. They hadn’t yet, but...
She searched for a long time, but couldn’t find a posting anywhere.
In the movies, everyone in trouble headed for Mexico. Maybe she should go, get an abortion down there. No questions. No problems.
Sure, like they’re free in Mexico.
The school was up ahead. As she had the past few days, she waited t until almost everyone was inside before getting out of her car and making a run for the door.
* * *
Jody slouched in her seat, trying to listen to her English teacher go on and on about a book Jody should have finished reading two days ago. Ms. Wood’s voice was soft, so soft that Jody wanted to close her eyes and escape for just a moment.
Not sleeping for the past three nights and worrying the daylight hours away after missing that third period left her exhausted. It got so bad yesterday she’d fallen down during a tricky cheer leading routine and twisted her ankle. Her mom had to come get her and drive her home.
It’s not like she didn’t try to sleep. She knew she needed to rest, especially after that stupid accident. But she couldn’t stop thinking, searching for an answer, hoping for some miracle to save her.
I have to do something about this, something about this thing growing inside of me. It’s taking up my space; taking away my life.
Pangs of desperation melted in her chest.
She didn’t fit into her regular clothes anymore – only loose fitting shirts like she’d put on this morning were able to hide her growing middle. She couldn’t stop poking her belly day and night to see if it had grown.
It had.
Why won’t it stop? Die?
Each night, awake in the dark, she tried to be logical, treat it like a difficult math problem – she was very good at math. Jody would examine every segment of an equation, try out every possibility. But X and Y always narrowed down to two choices: keep it, or get rid of it.
Yeah, well, that really left only one possibility: Get rid of it! She didn’t want a baby. And even if she did, her mom would totally freak.
Was she being unfair to her mom? Maybe she would help.
No. Can’t tell her. All she’s ever wanted was for me to go to Stanford. That’s all she talks about. Besides, she doesn’t believe in abortion.
Staring into the darkness last night, Jody had decided there was only one solution to save herself and her family from humiliation.
“Jody! Jody Simms!”
Her eyes snapped open. The teacher was leaning over her, pressing a hand on her arm. Jody sat up tall, looked around. It was only the two of them. The other students had emptied out.
Jody, still half asleep, said, “I’m so sorry, Ms. Wood.”
The teacher wasn’t angry; her eyes were filled with concern.
“Jody, what’s going on with you? You’re one of my best students. This is so unlike you. Is there anything wrong?”
Jody felt a gripping chill – she was sure the teacher was looking at her bulging belly.
Oh, my God, can she tell that I’m pregnant?
Jody pulled on both sides of her blouse, buttoned the middle button. “I haven’t been sleeping well. I guess it’s catching up to me.”
“I’m here if you need to talk, Jody.”
“No, I’m fine. But thank you for asking.” She gave the teacher a silly grin. “Just sleepy.”
* * *
A small group of seniors was gathered outside Ms. Wood’s classroom. Richie and Bobby among them. As Jody limped by, they suddenly stopped talking and, as a unit, turned and looked at her with salacious expressions.
Richie called out, “Hi, Jody. How’s it goin’?"
She nodded at him and kept walking. The laughed behind her back.
Farther down the hallway, other kids turned to look at her. She felt her face burn. Everyone was staring. They all knew.
Oh, my God!
She almost ran for the door, then outside she saw Sarah, her friend and head cheerleader, talking to the other members of the squad. She pretended she didn’t see them and headed for the parking lot. As she opened her car door, she heard Sarah call her name.
Jody waved a hand, climbed in, and rapidly backed out of the parking space, almost hitting someone in the process.
“Watch it!” the kid yelled, giving her the finger at the same time. In the rearview mirror she could see Sarah running toward her. She pressed down on the accelerator and kept going. She needed to get away, take some time to think, and she knew exactly where she would to go.
She was only a couple of blocks down the street when her cell rang. It was from Sarah; she let it go to Messages.
After that, she drove in a daze for a long time until she reached the beach. She was relieved when she saw there were only a couple of cars in the parking lot.
She parked at the far end of the lot, rolled down the windows, and let the ocean breeze cool her flushed face. After a moment, she got out and walked across the sand to where the waters of the incoming tide were lapping at the damp sand.
She took off her shoes and socks, held them in the crook of her arm, and waded out into the shallow waves. The cool ocean water sloshed across her feet.
She tried to remember the Fourth of July party that was now threatening to take away her independence.
Most of it was lost in a drunken haze, with flashes of her lying naked between Richie and Bobbie. The sex had seemed to go on forever ... and it hurt like hell.
She shouted into the wind: “You are a stupid girl!”
She turned and walked back to the dry sand and plopped down.
Chapter 25
Taneka hung up the phone. The black woman’s face was a pasty gray; she held tight to the edge of the desk before collapsing into a chair,
“What’s the matter?” Gina said, taking her arm.
Taneka said nothing for a long moment.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Gina prompted.
“Elyse Kyser is in the ER. She was brought in by the EMTs.”
“What happened?”
“Sounds like the same problem as Carrie ... infection. Probably septicemia.” Taneka reached for her bottle of water and took several gulps.
“I ... I don’t understand,” Gina said. “She was perfectly fine when we discharged her. That’s awfully quick to go sour … like septicemia the day after the procedure … that’s really sour.”
“Two in a row.” Taneka emptied her water bottle, tossed it into a recycle bin under the desk. “We’ve never had this happen before … at least not since I’ve been here.”
“I saw the post report on Carrie,” Gina said. “It’s in the computer.”
“And?”
“The TAB was complete ... no retained tissue or perforations. No evide
nce of surgical incompetence. The diagnosis: systemic organ failure, probable cause: Bacterial Sepsis ‒ Streptococcus.”
“Nothing to tell us how or why she was loaded with strep.” Taneka seemed to be recovering. “Maybe it’s just a run of bad luck.”
“You really think so?”
“No, but it doesn’t matter what I think,” Taneka said. “Things are going to heat up around here when Infection Control starts to climb all over us.”
Gina turned around and saw Thelma standing near the corridor.
Has she been standing there and listening to us all this time?
* * *
Harry finished listening to the report from the night shift nurse, whose face was as pale as bleached laundry sheets.
And who wouldn’t be done in? Twelve hours flying solo because someone called in sick.
“I heard about that post abortion disaster,” the nurse said.
“Pretty rough,” Harry said. “The poor gal bled out while we stood there … helpless.” He pointed to a computer read-out on the desk. “The autopsy result was just posted. The real deal? She died from septicemia. I’d have bet on it. If I didn’t see that coming, I might as well give up this gig and start looking for some other way to pay the rent.”
“Heard she was one of us, a nurse who worked in the clinics … Women’s Health.”
“Yeah, she’d been back at work after a TAB. Gina, my fiancée, works on that floor … took her from the unit to the ER.”
“Septicemia?” The nurse stood, grabbed her purse from a drawer, ready to take off. “Don’t see too much of that after a therapeutic abortion.”
“True enough.” Harry waved the nurse away. “Hey, get out of here and get some rest.”
“See you, man.”
Harry started moving among the six patients in ICU before the night nurse was out the door. He wondered if he was going to be able to snatch more help – soon as he checked out these people, he was heading straight for the phone – the ratio of patients to nurse was supposed to be four to one. Right now it was six to one, and the day was still young. Guess the bigwigs figured they could get away with slipping in a couple extras.
Bone of Contention: A Medical Thriller With Heart (The Gina Mazzio Series Book 4) Page 10