by K A Moll
“Dr. Wade,” he greeted, his hand trembling as he reached to shake hers. “Hyrum Broderick, chairman of the board. Welcome to Afton Memorial.”
Keegan lowered her head. “Thank you. And thank you for granting me privileges.”
“There was never a question of that,” he responded, sending the paramedics and Nicole to the ER.
“I’ll join you shortly,” Keegan promised, reminding the paramedics that she wanted labs and an abdominal CT STAT.
As the gurney disappeared through double doors, Dr. Broderick resumed their conversation. “It’s my understanding that you’ll be with us for a few days.”
“Yes,” Keegan said. “If the timing works out, we hope to catch our train on its return trip.”
“We have a VIP suite on the third floor,” he said. “It’s yours for as long as you need it.”
“That’s very kind,” Keegan answered. “Thank you.”
“I assigned one of our nurses to you,” Dr. Broderick continued. “She’ll assure that you get where you’re going, have what you need.” He motioned to a middle-aged woman, standing near the nurse’s station. “This is Sherry. She knows this place as well as I do.”
Keegan extended her hand. “Keegan Wade.” She turned to Willow. “And this is Willow Lord.”
“Pleased to meet you,” the nurse responded.
“You too,” Keegan and Willow said in unison.
“Well, I should let you see to your patient,” Dr. Broderick said. “When things settle down, I’d like to treat you to lunch.”
“We’d like that,” Keegan answered, turning to Sherry. “First stop, a comfortable waiting room.”
“I could sit with Nikki,” Willow suggested.
“I’m afraid she’s gonna be busy for a little while,” Keegan answered. “How about the waiting room for now? We’ll get you back there as soon as we can.”
“Okay, whatever works best.”
“Alright if we set our bags in the corner,” Keegan asked, “get them up to the suite when we get a minute?”
“You bet,” Sherry answered. “Or better yet, how about I have someone from maintenance come down to take them up for you?”
“That’d be perfect,” Keegan responded, feeling Sherry’s watchful eye as she kissed Willow’s lips. “I’ll come back out to talk with you when I know something,” she promised. Two hours passed before she did. “It’s rare, but it happens,” she explained. “And in Nikki’s case, the most likely cause is anorexia nervosa.”
“Acute gastric dilation,” Willow said, her brow furrowing, “I’ve never heard of that. But you said it’s rare, so I guess that’s not surprising.”
“No, not surprising at all,” Keegan responded, continuing. “So, air is almost completely filling the left upper quadrant of her stomach. It’s a serious condition, definitely not something to mess with.”
“Thank God you caught it, got her here.”
“For all the good it’s doing,” Keegan said. “Afton had one surgeon, one elderly surgeon—and he died. For two years, they’ve been unable to fill his position.” She released a breath. “And I get that. There’s a shortage of general surgeons, especially in rural areas, and who in their right mind would want to work here?”
“But you’re a trauma surgeon. You can do general surgery, right?”
“Yes, but surgery is a team effort, and after two years, the surgical team has disbanded, moved on to other positions.”
“So, what do we do?”
“We identify staff with the skill set we need, assemble a team.”
“A team with little to no experience.”
“Unfortunately,” Keegan responded. “And then, I perform the surgery in an OR that’s outfitted with ancient equipment. Oh well, enough whining, at least they have an anesthesiologist. Don’t worry. I’ll do what needs to be done.”
“I know you will.”
“So, if you want to go back to see her,” Keegan continued, “you can. She’ll need to be prepped soon, but you can stay until they come to get her.” They walked in silence down the corridor, pausing outside Nicole’s room. “I’ll send a nurse out with updates during the surgery. Afterward, I’ll come out to talk with you.” She smiled tenderly, kissing her. “See you soon.”
*
“Keegan, wait up.”
Keegan stopped, turned, allowing Naomi’s arms to come around her neck. “Okay, so I’ve gotta admit you’re a sight for sore eyes,” she greeted. “What are you doing here?”
“Something came up; I had to tell you,” Naomi answered. “I tried to call, but of course, you’d already changed your number.”
“Something came up? And you dropped everything, flew across the country to tell me?” Her eyes widened, looking at her. “Naomi—”
“It was important, and you weren’t easy to find, let me tell you.” She went on to explain that she’d flown to catch the train, but before she could board, it changed its route. “So, I rented a car, eventually caught up. And when I boarded, they told me you’d gotten off here.”
Keegan told her about Nicole, the situation, but not about Willow—needing her help in the OR and wanting her head to be clear.
“So anyway,” Naomi said, “what I needed to tell you was—”
“Later,” Keegan said firmly. “Let’s get through the surgery first.” She introduced Naomi to Hyrum Broderick, who immediately hired her for a temporary stint.
And they scrubbed, stepped into the operating theatre.
“Ready to rock-n-roll?” Keegan asked, moving to stand at Nicole’s bedside.
“As ready as I’m gonna be,” Nicole answered. “One thing before you put me under though. Willow, you have to promise me that you’ll watch out for her.”
“Nikki—”
“I know, I know, I’m gonna be fine. But in case I’m not—”
Keegan bent down, speaking quietly. “Always and forever.”
Nicole smiled. “I knew I could count on you. Let’s rock-n-roll, Doc.”
And with that, Keegan nodded to the anesthesiologist.
“You want music?” a surgical tech asked.
“On my iPhone,” Keegan said, “I have a playlist called ‘Love Songs from the Nineties.’ Play that.”
Naomi tilted her head. “Well, that’s different. No ‘Hard Rock from the Eighties?’ If I didn’t know better, I’d say you met someone.”
“Ten blade,” Keegan responded, holding her palm toward the ceiling.
“Oh my God, you did,” Naomi said, snapping the sharp instrument into her hand.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Willow knew without knowing. There’d been no need to look into the hall; no need to see the brunette catch up to Keegan, to watch her throw her arms around her; no need to see Keegan light up when she saw her, to hear her tell the attractive woman that she was a sight for sore eyes. There’d been no need, because she knew, knew before she’d unlocked Nicole’s cell phone, knew before she’d opened the process server’s email, knew before she’d seen the photo. In the pit of her stomach, she knew, but seeing it in real-time had broken her heart. Slim to no chance that she was single. That’s not a surprise. In the pit of her stomach, she knew that, but the fact that Keegan hadn’t told her, that she’d been prepared to sleep with her, allowing her to believe that she was unattached, ripped her beating, broken organ from her chest. She wanted to run, hide, to be anywhere but where she was, but couldn’t go, not when Nikki was so sick. You have no choice but to tough it out. Minimize your contact with Keegan, that’s the way you get through it. She took the long way back to the waiting room, thankful that Nicole had been asleep, sure that she’d have fallen apart had she talked with her.
“Ms. Lord,” a woman in scrubs greeted, “the doctor asked me to let you know that the surgery is going well. She expects to finish in about an hour.”
“Thank you,” Willow responded, before re-reading the job postings on the announcement board—General Surgeon—Certified Nursing Assistant—Registered Nur
se—Community Care Coordinator, MSW preferred, will work collaboratively with a multi-disciplinary team to meet the needs of a rural community, salary commensurate with degree, experience, and ability.
“There you are,” Keegan greeted, smiling a smile that on any other day would’ve lit up the room. “The surgery went well.”
Willow swallowed, breaking eye contact as she clung to the edge of composure. “When can I see her?”
“When she’s out of recovery,” Keegan answered, concern creeping into her tone. “She should be in a room within a couple of hours.”
Willow nodded, still avoiding eye contact.
“She did well, Willow,” Keegan repeated quietly. “We’ll leave the NG tube in for two to three days, and she’ll be on a liquid diet for a while, but she will be able to eat normally. We’ll still need to sort out issues related to her heart and of course, the anorexia nervosa, but at this point, the prognosis looks good.”
Willow clenched her jaw, thanking her for her help.
“Are you okay?” Keegan asked, her eyebrows drawing together. “Because I get the sense that something’s wrong, something unrelated to Nikki’s health.”
“I’m fine,” Willow answered, moving over when Keegan scooted closer. “I’m just concerned about Nikki, overly tired; that’s all.” She bit her lip, wanting to add that Keegan shouldn’t feel like she needed to stay around, that they’d be fine on their own, but didn’t think she could say the words without crying.
“I need to change clothes,” Keegan said, “you want to go check out the suite with me?”
“No, I think I’d better stay close to Nikki,” Willow answered, her eyes moistening. “In fact, I think I’ll sleep in her room tonight. You know, in case she needs something.”
“What’s wrong, Willow? I know something’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong. Go on; change your clothes.”
As Keegan stood, Naomi came around the corner.
Willow’s heart sank, watching her come toward them.
“Before I go,” Keegan said, “I want you to meet someone. Naomi, this is Willow. Willow, this is Naomi, my scrub nurse at NYC General.” She shook her head, her eyes widening. “Can you believe it? She just shows up at the moment I need a scrub nurse?”
“What a coincidence,” Willow answered, forcing a thin smile. “How lucky for you.”
Keegan’s eyes narrowed. “And Nikki, lucky for her, too.”
“Yes, and Nikki, too,” Willow responded, her belly knotting as she stood. “Please excuse me,” she said, “I need to visit the lady’s room.”
Naomi’s eyes followed her. “She’s pretty. Did you meet her on the train? I assume so since she’s friends with your patient.”
“Yes,” Keegan answered, distracted by Willow’s unusual behavior, “when I was fourteen.”
“Childhood sweethearts?”
“You could say that.”
“So, are you sleeping with her? You either are, or you want to. Did you sleep with her at fourteen?”
“Enough with the questions.”
“She’s pissed,” Naomi persisted. “Did you do something? Or forget to do something?”
“I said enough with the questions.”
They walked without speaking for several paces, stepping onto the elevator.
“I assume you’re heading back in the morning.”
“Not necessarily, but probably.”
“You can use our suite tonight if you want to.”
Naomi lifted an eyebrow. “You’re not going to?”
“Not tonight,” Keegan responded. “Willow wants to stay with Nikki. I figure I’ll catch a few winks in the on-call room.”
“Let down, I’m sure,” Naomi responded, following her into the beautifully decorated room. “Okay, so if you’re not gonna use it, I will.”
“Good,” Keegan said, “I’ll go ahead and grab our bags while I’m here.” She unzipped her carryon, stepping into the bathroom to change clothes. “So, what’d you come to tell me?” she asked, buckling her belt as she returned to the room.
“That you need to watch out,” Naomi responded, going on to relate what had happened the morning she’d asked for the favor. “So, I come out of your office with a partially filled rocks glass in one hand and an almost full bottle in the other.”
“I was stupid to pour it,” Keegan commented, her upper lip curling. “I wasn’t going to drink it, not at the hospital. It’s just habit, you know?” She’d purchased the bottle at a nearby liquor store, planning to take it home with her.
“I know,” Naomi responded quietly. “So, anyway, I come out of your office, and this guy, the process server who’s been trying to serve you on that new lawsuit, he’s in my face, snapping one photo after another. I tell him to stop, demand that he hand over his camera, but he ignores me, takes off at a run.”
Keegan shook her head, smiling thinly. “Nikki, Nikki, the lengths you’ll go to win a case.”
“As in Nikki, your patient?”
“Yes, indeed,” Keegan responded. “She’s supposed to be one heck of a malpractice attorney.”
Naomi’s eyes widened. “Talk about sleeping with the enemy.”
“She’s Willow’s friend, and mine, I think I’m okay.”
“I hope you’re right,” Naomi answered, slipping the room key onto her ring. “Because if not, you might find yourself swimming in a shark tank.” She walked Keegan to the door, putting her arms around her, and thanking her for the use of the room.
Keegan smiled. “My pleasure.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Willow rode to the third floor, stepped off, and back onto the elevator, seeing them together outside the suite she might have shared with Keegan, shattering the last shreds of her control. Close doors, close. She wept out loud, rocking back and forth, as she rode down. She’d gone up to collect her bag, wanting to do so while Nikki was still in recovery, and had almost been spotted by the couple. You should have expected that they’d seize the opportunity to be alone. She swallowed, wondering how Keegan had explained knowing her. Probably exactly as it was, as childhood friends whose paths had unexpectedly crossed. Maybe they have an open relationship. Maybe Naomi’s okay with her stepping out. Maybe that’s why Keegs didn’t tell you about her because she didn’t see having sex with another woman as wrong. It was unlikely, but in a sad, sick way made her feel better. It killed her thinking that Keegan would lie to her. She got off, boarding another elevator, and getting off on the second floor. Pediatrics, Keegan wouldn’t look for her there. She’d hide, peer through the nursery window for a while, give Nikki time to get to her room. She checked her watch, deciding that nine-thirty was a safe time to go back down. “Nicole Randle,” she said, stopping at a nurse’s station, “could you direct me to her room?”
“Around the corner, three doors down on your left.”
“Thank you,” Willow responded, padding quietly into the darkened room. She found the sofa near the window, sheets already on, and her bag in the corner. As she thought about Keegan, the loss of what had never been hers, her heart twisted into a pretzel.
“Is it over?” Nicole asked, not remembering speaking with Keegan when she was in recovery.
“It’s over,” Willow said softly, moving to her bedside. “Keegan said your surgery went very well, that you’re gonna be alright.” She stroked her cheek. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be right here.”
Nicole lifted her hand, touching the tube that carried food and medicine to her stomach.
“That’ll be in for a couple of days,” Willow explained. “Go back to sleep. Everything’s okay.”
Nicole nodded, closing her eyes.
*
“How’s our patient?” Keegan asked quietly. She stepped in, her gaze lingering tenderly, a stethoscope draped around her collar.
“Awake now and then,” Willow responded. “She’s been moaning this past hour.”
Keegan nodded, moving to Nicole’s bedside. “How are you feeling?”
>
“Like you took a knife to my stomach,” Nicole answered, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly. “Glad to be alive.”
Keegan swallowed hard, her mind whisking her back to the day she became a doctor, to the amazing high of her first life saved, and the devastating low of a young patient dying in her arms. She clenched her jaw, feeling the passion she’d thought long gone, and choking up like an intern.
Nicole reached out, squeezed her hand.
Keegan clamped down on raw emotion. “Sorry, I’m not sure where that came from.”
“From your heart,” Nicole answered softly. “Before we’re finished, you just might single-handedly change my opinion of doctors.”
Keegan smiled thinly. “We’re a mixed lot; I think more of us good than bad.” She looked over for Willow, finding her gone. “I’ve done something,” she said, shaking her head slowly, “but I’m not sure what.”
“She’s been quieter than usual. I figured that she was worried, didn’t say anything because I’ve already told her a million times that things will be okay.”
“And things will be okay,” Keegan assured. “You came through the surgery well. We have issues to address, but—”
“Oh, she’s not worried about me,” Nicole said. “I think she knows that I’ll be fine. Being able to make payments on her student loans, the first one’s due next month, that’s what she’s worried about. I have every intention of making those payments for as long as she needs me to, but if I tell her now, she’ll assume that I don’t think she’ll find a job.”
“Money, she doesn’t need to worry about money. I wish she’d have talked with me about it.”
“I’m not surprised that she didn’t. She takes great pride in being able to take care of herself.” Nicole pursed her lips, her eyebrows drawing together. “But you know, as I think about it, she seems sad more than anything else. I assume you’ve asked her if she’s upset about something.”
Keegan nodded. “And she insists that nothing’s wrong. But things are different. She was fine when I went into surgery and distant when I came out. I think she’s pissed, but—”