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The M.D.'s Surprise Family

Page 10

by Marie Ferrarella


  Whatever that was.

  It had been a hundred years since he’d been a boy. And even then, under the strict discipline of his father, he’d been old for his age, expected to pull an adult’s load long before his time.

  Flipping back the chart cover, Peter quickly reviewed the new entries. Blue was getting his medication on time.

  “I’m kind of hungry,” the boy murmured.

  Peter closed the chart again, looking at Blue in mild surprise. In his experience, most people were nauseated after surgery, not hungry. He hung the chart back in place and returned to the headboard so Blue could see him.

  “Right now, you’re getting all the nutrition you need through this feeding tube.” He indicated one of the IV drips attached to Blue’s thin arm.

  Blue looked at the tube critically. “I’d like the straw to be in my mouth, not in my arm.”

  He noted that the simple request almost broke Raven’s heart. It was obvious that she hated seeing him like this, with tubes running into his arms and as pale as a sheet.

  “Soon, honey, soon,” she told him. And then, bracing herself, willing her lips to curve and doing her best to hide her fears from Blue, she added, “I just want to talk to the doctor for a minute.” She disengaged her hand from his and then grinned at him. “Don’t fly off anywhere, okay?”

  Blue sighed. It was obvious that he thought that if he could at least fly, all this might be worth putting up with. He did his best to return her encouraging smile.

  “Okay.”

  Peter looked at her quizzically. She’d been so adamant all along about Blue being part of everything, what was she going to ask him in private? Raven motioned him to the side. He followed in her wake, trying not to notice that she still seemed to have an arousing scent about her that lingered in her path.

  Turning, she glanced over to watch the back of Blue’s head. She wanted to be sure he couldn’t hear her. Not until she’d had a chance to digest this first.

  “Did you get the results back yet?” She took another breath before she added, “For the tumors?”

  The lab had been his first stop. He’d gotten there as a sleepy-eyed technician was unlocking the door. The latter hadn’t looked too happy about having to search for results first thing in the morning.

  “All benign.” He gave her the answer she’d been waiting for, praying for, with absolutely no fanfare, as if he was reciting a stock market reading. He saw the glint in her eyes and he sighed. “You’re going to cry again, aren’t you?”

  Raven pressed her lips together and nodded. She struggled to keep her voice from cracking when she spoke. “Sorry, can’t help it.”

  “Raven?” Blue called to her uncertainly. He twisted and winced, trying to see her.

  She realized that he’d heard the tone of her voice. He probably thought the worst. She rushed back to his bed, mentally saying, Thank you, thank you.

  “Oh, God, I wish I could hug you right now.” She knew that the slightest attempt would only translate into a world of pain for the boy. Instead, she laced both her hands around one of his and gave it just the tiniest squeeze, converting the surge of joy she felt down to the minus ten power. “It’s good news, Blue. Wonderful news.” Bending, she pressed her lips lightly to the back of his head. “Everything’s going to be perfect. You’re going to be perfect.”

  Peter noticed that the boy was taking his sister’s tears in stride. Turning his head slightly so that he could make general eye contact with him, Blue confided, “She cries when she’s happy.”

  Peter laughed. “So I’ve noticed.”

  She was notably too happy to care that they were making fun of her. Leaning over the top of the bed, she fished a tissue out of the small box on one of the side tables. She dried her eyes. Fresh tears insisted on replacing the ones that had been spent. She wiped those away, too.

  “Men don’t understand these things,” she told them both with a laugh.

  “That’s what she always says when she’s being strange,” Blue told him.

  Peter couldn’t shake the feeling that the boy was trying to bond with him. Obviously this need to connect with strangers ran in the family. The thing was, he could feel himself being drawn in ever so slightly, as if he was part of some greater whole that they were part of as well.

  “Don’t give away all our family secrets at once,” she cautioned her brother with a wink.

  Peter shifted, but didn’t move. He had other patients to see, more rounds to make. Why he hesitated didn’t make any sense to him.

  Neither did the fact that his shoes felt as if they’d been glued to the floor.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” he told Blue.

  The boy sighed staring at the wall. “I’ll be here.”

  As he began to leave the ICU, Raven followed him to the entrance.

  “Something else?” he asked, thinking that she’d undoubtedly come up with another question for him to wrestle with.

  “I just wanted to thank you.”

  He thought of the way she’d kissed him outside the operating room. The way she’d managed to unseal his tight control. “You already did.”

  “No, I meant for putting the blanket back on me.”

  “You were awake for that?”

  The smile she gave him could have melted the Titantic’s iceberg without leaving a hint of its existence.

  “As you pointed out, that wasn’t the most comfortable surface. I’d only dozed off for tiny snatches at a time. Thank you,” she repeated.

  “Yeah. Don’t mention it.” He inched toward the double doors that automatically sprang open when he was close enough. “Really,” he added.

  She watched him go through the doors and then have them yawn shut again. The man had a problem accepting gratitude, she thought. He was swiftly becoming her project of the month.

  “Nurse, where’s the boy in bed six?” Peter asked when he returned that evening to the ICU. Preparing himself for another encounter with Raven, he’d found himself staring at an empty cubicle. The bed and the machines were gone.

  Sonia looked up from the circular desk where she watched all the monitors for any signs of change. “You mean, the Songbird boy? Mr. Grissom had him moved to one of the tower suites.”

  “Would have been nice to have been told,” Peter growled.

  “Must have slipped everyone’s mind,” she murmured, getting back to her post.

  Keeping his response to himself, Peter crossed to the bank of elevators that were programmed to take him straight to the top floor where the tower suites were located.

  He had figured as much. Given half a chance, George Grissom would find a way to transfer the boy and everything he needed up to the tower suites. It was where all the VIPs who came to Blair stayed, no matter what the reason.

  Better suited to a grand hotel, the suites were the last word in luxury, erasing every hint that the patient was staying in a hospital. He had no idea what being in one of the rooms cost, but he had a feeling that the people who occupied one of the suites didn’t worry about such trivial things.

  He was feeling unusually edgy tonight and the sensation grew with each step he took toward Blue’s room. Peter caught hold of himself just before he knocked on the door and entered the vast room. It was like entering a florist’s shop, or a nursery. There were flowers everywhere, with teddy bears and stuffed animals pock-marking several surfaces.

  Blue still lay on his stomach, his middle suspended a couple of inches from his bed while his feet and head just barely made contact with the mattress. But unlike in the ICU, here his bed was turned around so that he could see his visitors. A large television was positioned so that he was able to watch its reflection in the full-length mirror that ran along the opposite wall.

  “All the comforts of home, huh?” Peter noted as he walked in.

  Raven’s smile was immediate and warm when she saw him. And no amount of sealing himself off rendered him immune to it.

  “If he was a trapeze artist,” Raven quippe
d.

  She’d changed her clothes, he noticed. Instead of the mass of swirling colors she’d had on earlier, she was wearing something soft and blue that brought out the intensity of her eyes.

  As if she needed that, he thought. “You went home,” he observed.

  She looked down as if to remind herself what she had on. “No, actually the clothes came to me. I had Connie bring them when she came to visit Blue. I haven’t been out of the hospital since yesterday.” She glanced toward the private bath. Instead of just the regulation handicap toilet, it was also equipped with a shower. “I did make use of the shower, though.”

  He nodded. “No extra charge.”

  An appreciative smile bloomed on her lips and she looked pleased. Why? he wondered. What had he said?

  “You have a sense of humor.” The fact took her completely by surprise.

  He didn’t think he’d ever been accused of that. “Not so anyone would notice.”

  “I did,” she pointed out.

  There it was again, that feeling that she was looking into him, into his thoughts, his soul. He knew it was absurd, but he couldn’t shake the feeling.

  “We’ve already established that you march to a different drummer.” Trying to distance himself from his reaction to her, Peter looked back at the reason he was here. “How are his spirits?” It was a question he’d never heard himself asking before. Spirits or lack thereof weren’t his realm. He dealt in what he could see, touch, taste, not assume. But somehow, the question seemed to be relevant here.

  “Pretty good. The nurse and I already took him on a tiny stroll around his room.”

  Hearing them discuss his maiden run, Blue interjected, “Tomorrow the hall.”

  It was what she’d told Blue as he was placed, exhausted, back in the sling. It had quickly become his goal.

  “He’s amazingly resilient,” she told Peter, affection emanating from every syllable. As Peter did a quick exam of the surgical site, she forced herself to watch despite the fact that the sight of blood made her stomach flip over. She was relieved when he moved the bandages back into place. “Some of his friends came by earlier with their mothers.” She exchanged grins with her brother. “He’s now officially the coolest kid in his group.”

  A program came on that Blue was particularly fond of and Raven took the opportunity to move away from the bed for a moment. She lowered her voice as she said, “He’s pretending that his back doesn’t hurt, but I know it does. He’s always been a very brave little trouper. When do you think he can go home?”

  She stood close to him again. So close that he could smell the soap she’d used. Something floral. Life up here in the tower suites was a world apart from the seven other floors below.

  “Four days should do it,” he told her. “Ordinarily, the hospital likes as fast a turnaround as is medically feasible, but in this case I think George’ll arrange a few extra days if you feel more comfortable with that.”

  “What I’d be more comfortable with is taking Blue home as quickly as possible. If you said the word, he’d be out of the door like a shot, a slow-motion shot,” she qualified, “but a shot nonetheless.”

  In the true nature of a child, Blue was already healing faster than an adult in his place. “We’ll take it one day at a time,” Peter responded.

  Raven looked at him for a long moment, her eyes holding his. “That’s all that anyone can ask.”

  He had the strangest feeling that she wasn’t talking about the same thing he was.

  As he began to drive home after more than a full day at the hospital, he remembered that it had been some time since he’d even picked up a phone to call Renee. Taking out his cell phone, he placed an order for pizza at a local restaurant that wasn’t far from her house.

  He picked it up on his way. The aroma filled his car before he even got out of the parking lot, managing to block the scent that still lingered around him. Her scent.

  “Hi, stranger.” Renee’s greeting was warm as she opened the door to him. “Bearing gifts again? Or is this your subtle way of telling me you don’t like my cooking?”

  “I thought you could use a break—and I haven’t had a pizza since I can’t remember when.”

  “You also can’t remember to wear your coat,” she chided, closing the door. “Pete, it’s cold out there.”

  He saw she was wearing the scarf he’d dropped off the day after he’d received it. “Not if you’re wearing a scarf.”

  She fingered it, smiling as she led the way to the kitchen. “Lovely, isn’t it?”

  “On you,” he allowed.

  She opened the cupboard and took out two plates. “You are good for me, Pete.” Placing the plates on the table, she took two sodas from the refrigerator, then made herself as comfortable at the table as her condition allowed. “So, how’s your patient coming along?” She fingered the scarf again to indicate who she was talking about.

  Opening the pizza box, he took out a slice for his mother-in-law and then put one on his own plate. “Surgery was uneventful.”

  She laughed shortly at his modesty. “Which is neurosurgeon shorthand for only one miracle was called for instead of three.”

  He was doing his best to distance himself from the event as well as the boy and his sister. So far, he was having only marginal luck. Especially with Raven.

  “He’s mending fast. I discharged him at the end of last week and he’s due for his follow-up visit at the end of this week.” It seemed that every time he looked at his calendar, that was the only appointment he saw. A hell of a thing for a man who liked to keep his surgical patients at arm’s length.

  Renee popped the top of her soda can. “And then?”

  He followed suit, taking a long drink. “And then what?”

  Renee grinned at him as she took a bite of her slice. “I asked first.”

  “I don’t think I understand.”

  “Yes, you do, you just want to play dumb, that’s all.” Renee shook her head. “Doesn’t become you, Peter.” Playing along, Renee spelled it out for him. “Are you going to see the boy after that?”

  He’d already made his mind up about that. He’d talked to a neurologist earlier in the day. “Dr. Rhys can take over.”

  Her expression was patient. Understanding. He balked slightly at it.

  “Maybe he won’t be comfortable with Dr. Rhys,” she suggested.

  He could see the same argument coming from Raven once he told her about the change. So far, he’d held off, telling himself it was because the opportunity hadn’t arisen yet.

  “I’m a surgeon, Renee. That means I do surgeries. I make sure they take and then I move on.”

  She looked at him knowingly. “Seems to me that this one is a little different than the others.”

  “Why?”

  “For one thing,” she pointed out blithely, “you’ve never talked about any of the others. For another, his sister is very generous. I heard she’s donating money for new equipment.”

  Renee was an endless source of surprise to him. “How did you find out about that?”

  Taking another slice, she slipped it onto her plate. “Unlike you, my doctor doesn’t need much encouragement to talk.” She became more animated. “Seems that the hospital is very excited about this.”

  “Free is always good.” Uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was heading, he turned it back to her. “So, how have you been feeling?”

  She lifted only one shoulder, and marginally at that, in a half shrug.

  “Can’t complain.” And then she paused, a self-depreciating smile curving her mouth. “Well, I could, but what good would it do? Doesn’t change anything.” Her eyes met his. “I’ve got good days and bad—just like you, Pete.” Leaning over the table, in typical motherly fashion she pushed back the hair that was falling into his eyes. Her voice was soft as she said, “She would have wanted you to be happy, you know.”

  “Who?”

  “Lisa. She wouldn’t have wanted you to spend your whole li
fe mourning her.”

  His appetite waning, he put the second slice down and looked at the woman across from him. “It’s not something I can control.”

  “Sure you can. Mind over matter, Pete.” Her tone was firm, encouraging. “You of all people know that.”

  He picked up on the words she’d used and fed them back to her. “In my mind, ever since Lisa’s been gone, nothing else seems to matter.”

  “It should,” she insisted. And then, because she must have known how Peter reacted when too much pressure was applied, she backed off. “Now then, did you tell her how much I liked the scarf?”

  He hadn’t said anything to Raven about the gift she’d given him for his mother-in-law. “Slipped my mind.”

  She passed a napkin to him. “Then you’ll have something to talk about the next time you see her.”

  Accepting it, he wiped his fingers before picking up the soda can again. “The next time I see her will be for her brother’s follow-up.”

  Renee nodded, reading between the lines. “I think you should do a follow-up of your own after that.”

  He sighed. He knew she meant well, but at the end of a long day, it was hard to hang on to his temper. “You don’t stop, do you?”

  Renee just smiled back at him. “Not until I reach my goal.”

  “Which is?”

  “Seeing you happy,” she answered simply, then added, “And maybe getting a grandchild out of the bargain.”

  “Just how do you figure that?”

  Renee laughed. “At your age and position, I’d think you’d have a pretty good handle on the birds and bees by now, but if you want—”

  He cut her off. “You know what I mean.”

  The amusement faded. Renee grew serious. “You’re my son-in-law, Pete, and you’ve become like a son to me. Nothing is going to change that. When a son has a child, that automatically makes his mother a grandmother.”

  “Overlooking a few things here, aren’t we?”

  “Only way to go through life, Pete. Fix what you can, accept what you can’t and always, always look for the upside of everything.”

  He suddenly felt very tired. “What was the upside of Lisa and Becky dying?”

 

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