Vanessa refused to budge. “When Emma was brought in, she was quite altered. She wasn’t oriented to place or time, and she was unable to follow simple commands.”
“That’s odd,” Grant said. “Doesn’t sound like her.”
“I thought it was strange, too, which is why I decided to send a tox screen.”
“I’m not sure that was necessary.” What a waste. Emma had always been a good girl, the ultimate rule follower.
“Unfortunately, it was completely necessary.”
“What do you mean?”
“It came back positive for opiates.”
“Holy shit,’ he said. “Should we wait until Derrick gets here to discuss this further?” Grant didn’t know how Emma got her hands on drugs, but he knew her father would want to be here for this conversation.
“I didn’t pull you aside to discuss Emma’s care,” Vanessa said. “That I will reserve for her family. I wanted to talk to you about the pills.”
Grant could feel his pulse quicken. He didn’t like the accusative look on Vanessa’s face and the way she’d kept her arms crossed for the entire conversation.
“I don’t understand.”
She pulled an orange pill bottle out of the pocket of her white coat. “Sadie had this in her pocket. She owned up when I gave them the blood results.”
“Where the hell did she get that?”
“Why don’t you take a closer look at the label.” Vanessa held the bottle up. He scanned the print on the label and found exactly what he’d dreaded, his own name listed under prescriber information. Usually, he peeled off the labels from the bottles he collected, but he must have forgotten this time. If he hadn’t been so lazy, he could have avoided this predicament. Grant reached out to take the bottle, but Vanessa stashed it back in her pocket before he could grab it.
“I assume you must have an explanation for how your daughter got this bottle,” Vanessa said. “It seems to have been prescribed to a patient you performed surgery on a few months ago. Robert Ward? I looked him up in the system.”
“What are you trying to say?” Grant honestly wasn’t sure how Sadie had gotten ahold of that bottle. There was no way he had been careless enough to leave it in a drawer in the kitchen or in the cabinet in her bathroom, and he couldn’t imagine Sadie snooping in his nightstand.
“I’m just trying to figure out how your daughter ended up with this bottle.”
“I don’t like where this conversation is going.” Grant took a deep breath, trying to clear the Oxy from his system. He needed all his wits about him for this conversation. “You know me. We’ve worked together forever.” Maybe appealing to her sense of loyalty would get him off the hook.
“I do know you, which is why I found this so surprising,” Vanessa said. “Do you have any idea where she got the bottle? If you can’t illuminate me, then I’ll have to ask the girls.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Call it whatever you want. I’m just trying to take care of my patient.”
“And taking care of your patient includes threatening a senior surgeon on staff? I bring so much fucking money into this place. Much more than you ever will.” He hoped Vanessa wouldn’t notice the slight slurring of his words.
“I don’t think that’s relevant right now. Do you have an explanation or not?
“What was the question?” Grant stalled. Pulling rank didn’t seem like it was working, so he had to take a different tack.
“Maybe I’m not being direct enough with you, Grant. Let me make my question perfectly clear. How did your daughter get ahold of a bottle of pain pills prescribed for your patient?”
“Sadie shadowed me at the office for her school’s career day a few weeks ago,” Grant lied.
“And on career day, you give out samples?”
After this sarcastic jab, he knew he had to come up with something better fast. “She must have found the pills in the disposal bin.” He knew the explanation sounded lame, but it was the only thing that came to mind. He hoped Vanessa would cut him some slack and move on.
“You expect me to believe that you leave bottles of controlled substances lying around your office in open bins?”
“Not in bins exactly. I meant to say that maybe Mr. Ward left his bottle in the exam room and Sadie picked it up.”
“Now you’re changing your story altogether.”
“No, I’m just trying to explain—”
“Grant, I have an ER full of patients to see.”
“I know. I’m trying to tell you how this happened.” He could feel his armpits getting damp.
“Well, you’re not doing a very good job,” she said. “Is there anything else you’d like to say?”
Grant was out of ideas. He couldn’t think of anything believable to get her off his back.
Vanessa gave up waiting for a response. “Fine, if you don’t want to give me the straight story, I’ll leave it to the administration to sort out.” She turned and walked out.
Watching Vanessa disappear down the hallway, Grant prayed she was just blowing smoke. Once she calmed down, she’d realize that reporting him to the administration would only cause them both unnecessary aggravation. Meanwhile, it was time to have a talk with his daughter.
CHAPTER TWENTY - SEVEN
Alison
October 12, 2019
AS ALISON SMOOTHED THE FRONT of her black jersey dress and chose a pair of silver ballet flats, she noticed she hadn’t shaved her legs in weeks. Oh, well. Rhea had already gone home and it took too long to do it herself. Becca had called an hour ago to say she’d planned a surprise date for tonight and Alison had been turning in circles ever since. It had taken Becca over a week to make good on her promise. Alison had sort of hoped Becca would let it go so she wouldn’t have to deal with it, but maybe it would be fun after all.
When she heard Becca’s car pull into the driveway, Alison grabbed her purse. Becca came to the door and offered her arm, opened the car door and helped her inside. Alison couldn’t recall the last time Michael had been so attentive. In their marriage, chivalry had kicked the bucket ages ago.
“Where are we going?” Alison asked.
Becca turned the car toward town. “It’s a surprise. I have a whole evening planned.”
“Nowhere too crowded, I hope.” Alison should be proud to have Becca by her side, but it wasn’t so easy. Everything she thought she knew about herself, about her identity and her place in the world, had changed. It was like the tectonic plates she taught the kids about in the science unit were shifting over each other. She wasn’t sure she was prepared for the aftershocks.
Becca parallel parked in front of Alison’s favorite bookstore. Golden light emanated through the large windows, the display tables in front stacked with colorful hardcover books. “Don’t worry so much and try to enjoy yourself,” Becca said.
Alison used to come here all the time, but since the surgery, she’d been ordering her books online. The store was nearly empty, only a few people in the front browsing the new release tables. Lorraine, the owner, came over to greet them.
“Alison, it’s so good to see you,” Lorraine said. “I’ve heard you haven’t been well.”
“On the mend,” Alison said. Becca introduced herself and shook Lorraine’s hand. While the two of them made small talk, Alison meandered into the stacks, breathing in the smell of books and running her hand over the rows of spines.
Becca caught up to her. “Are you happy?” she asked.
“I’ve missed this place,” Alison said. “The feeling it gives me.”
“I know. There’s something I want to show you.” Becca led Alison to a display table in the middle of the store, full of books wrapped in brown paper, some on display stands, others stacked on top of each other in piles. Each book had a few clues written in black marker on the cover.
“What’s this?” Alison asked.
“Blind date with a book,” she said.
“You buy the book without knowing?”
“Isn’t that fabulous?”
Alison wasn’t sure how she felt about it. On one hand, the mystery was enticing. Maybe it would be a book she’d always wanted to read or one she’d never even known was right up her alley. But what if it was one she’d already read or the type of story that just wasn’t for her? Not knowing what was inside seemed unnecessarily risky.
Becca grabbed a few of the wrapped books and flopped down on the large beanbag chair in the corner, patting the spot next to her. Once Alison got down there, she’d need help getting up, but she decided to go for it.
“Close your eyes and choose,” Becca said, holding three books in front of her.
Alison closed her eyes and pointed to one.
“Okay,” Becca said. “I’ll read the clues and then we take turns guessing what book it is. You ready?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Just relax and enjoy it. Okay here they are. Clue number one, young love. Clue number two, tragic end. And clue number three, different family backgrounds.”
“That’s easy,” Alison said. “Romeo and Jul … Juliet.”
“But maybe it’s a trick. You’re supposed to think that, but there’s lots of other books that fit that description.”
“Like what?”
“There are so many. You just have to open your mind a little. Me Before You fits this description.” She stopped to think for a few seconds. “Oh, what about The Notebook? That works, too.”
“The Notebook?” Alison tickled Becca’s side. “Take that back.”
“No way.”
“I’ll go home.”
“You don’t have a car,” Becca said, her eyes twinkling.
“I’ll hitchhike,” Alison said. “I know another one. Love Story. That fits, too.”
“Should we buy it so we can see what’s inside?” Becca handed Alison the book.
“I like the mystery,” Alison said, warming up to the idea. “You can imagine anything.”
“I know what I’m imagining right now.” Becca leaned over for a kiss. All Alison could think about was Becca’s soft lips, and her warm breath and the way Becca made her feel so alive. The sound of Lorraine answering the phone, the weight of the book in her hand, and the crunching of the beanbag chair all faded away.
A familiar voice jolted her back to reality. She pulled away and saw Michael standing at the display table looking straight at them.
“Make out session in a bookstore?” he said with a sneer. “Really classy, Alison.”
“Uh … what … you doing here?” In all their time together, she and Michael had never gone to a bookstore or a library together. His idea of reading was scrolling through the ESPN app on his phone.
He held up a book, a photo of a guy wearing a Red Sox uniform on the cover. “Kyle from the firm said it’s a must read. I’ve got a lot of time on my hands now, thanks to you.” Alison had had enough of sad sack Michael. She wished he would quit feeling sorry for himself already.
Becca extricated herself from the beanbag chair and helped Alison up. “Glad to see you’re using the time to improve yourself,” Becca said with a smile.
“Not only do you leave me for a woman, but now I have to deal with her sarcasm, too? Spare me.” He directed his response to Alison, refusing to look at Becca.
“Please,” Alison pleaded. “This won’t help anything.”
“I’m sorry I’m such a burden on you,” he said. “You didn’t seem to feel that way when I was taking care of you for all those months.”
Becca put her arm around Alison. Whether she was trying to protect her or claim possession, Alison wasn’t sure.
“Michael,” Alison said. “Maybe you should leave.”
“Get out while the going is good.” Becca would never say something so trite, so Alison knew she was heckling Michael, poking fun at his fondness for clichés.
Lorraine walked over. “Can I help anyone find anything?” she asked.
“All set.” Michael held up his book. He headed for the register without saying goodbye, Lorraine following behind him.
When they’d gone, Alison and Becca started giggling. It felt good to release the bubbles of nerves from the confrontation with Michael.
“This is the last place,” Alison said.
“I know,” Becca said. “Small world.”
They pretended to peruse the display table, waiting for Michael to pay and leave the store. He stepped away from the register, then looked back at Alison with a pained look in his eyes.
“One minute,” Alison said. As she walked toward Michael, the thumping of her cane on the hardwood floor pierced the stillness.
“Let him go,” Becca said.
Alison continued walking, Lorraine and Michael both watching her slow progress.
“Can I speak with you outside?” Alison whispered once she’d reached Michael’s side.
He grunted and followed her out the door.
“What do you want, Alison?” he said, facing her on the sidewalk. “You’re the one who just told me to leave.”
“I know.” She never expected their separation to be this hard. Michael was no longer the right partner for her, but she hated to watch him suffer. “I’m sorry.”
“Bullshit,” he said. “I don’t believe you for one second. You tell me you want a divorce and the next thing I know, you’re making out with your girlfriend in public. Enough with the innocent act, Alison.”
This was a new side of Michael, so full of venom and vitriol. He had always been so passive and agreeable. She tightened her grip on her cane. There had to be a way to separate from each other without hostility, to work things out civilly. “Don’t be angry,” she said. “We’ll figure this out.”
“Looks like you’ve already figured it out. Dump the chump and take up with the hot chick. I’ve got your number.”
“No.” She felt her pulse quickening. “That’s not what happened.”
“Sure looks that way to me.” Michael took a breath. “Listen,” he said, his voice calmer, “I’ve been thinking about something and I want to run it by you.”
“What?”
“I think we should sue Grant,” he said. “He clearly has a problem. Maybe he was under the influence when he operated on you. Plus, he’s the reason our marriage fell apart. He deserves to pay for that.”
“I don’t think—” She didn’t know why Michael insisted on harping on the drug use allegation when it was all based on hearsay. He had no proof that rumor was true.
“Hear me out. We’re going to need the money to pay for your care. Physical therapy, speech therapy, and who knows what else. Why should we be strapped while he’s rolling in dough?”
“I don’t know.” As bad as things were, Alison couldn’t picture bringing a lawsuit against Grant. Such a drastic step would ensure they would never repair the rift in their family. “I’m not sure it will solve anything.”
“Just think about it, okay?” Michael took his car keys from his pocket and unlocked his car with a beep. “For me.”
Alison watched him get into the car and drive away, leaving the conversation unfinished. When she went back inside, Alison felt jittery and uneasy, like she’d been spun around in one of those zero gravity rides at the carnival where the floor drops out suddenly and just when you think you can’t stomach the spinning anymore, the floor rises back under your feet.
Should we head to the restaurant?” Becca rose from the beanbag and checked her watch.
“You’ll never believe what Michael suggested,” Alison said.
“I can’t wait to hear.”
“He wants to sue Grant. For malpractice.”
“Oh,” Becca said. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“What do you think?”
“I’m not sure I want to take sides in your family feud. Can we just focus on us? Our reservation is in twenty minutes.”
“I don’t think I can go,” Alison knew Becca had planned a whole night out, but all she wanted to do was go home, get into
her pajamas and watch TV. When she desperately needed Becca’s opinion and support, Becca had excused herself. Alison couldn’t sit at a restaurant and pretend everything was fine.
“What do you mean?” Becca said. “You don’t want to have dinner?”
“I’ll have to take a raincheck,” Alison said. Tonight, she needed some time to herself.
CHAPTER TWENTY - EIGHT
Sadie
March 23, 2019
AFTER EMMA’S FATHER ARRIVED in the ER, Sadie followed her dad into the hospital elevator and he told her to press the button for the fifth floor. When she was little, she’d always loved coming with him on weekend rounds because he would let her press the buttons. The elevator doors opened up again and a couple stepped in. The man gripped the woman’s hand so tight it had to hurt, but the woman looked calm, like she was the one guiding her husband through the medical crisis.
“What’s the fifth floor?” Sadie asked.
“ICU,” he said. “Intensive care unit.”
“I know what ICU means, Dad.” Sadie knew this unit was for the sickest of the sick, the patients who couldn’t walk to the bathroom, couldn’t breathe on their own, couldn’t tell their family they loved them. Sadie hadn’t pictured Aunt Alison that sick.
“Of course, you do,” he said.
“Will I be allowed to see Aunt Alison?”
“Yes.”
It was pathetic that she had to show up in the emergency room in order to see her aunt, but she’d take it. It’s not like her parents would send her home alone in a cab in the middle of the night. Piper and the guys were probably already fast asleep by now.
“Will Emma get better?” Sadie asked. Fractures weren’t her dad’s thing, but he must have some idea of how well Emma’s ankle would heal. This mess was all her fault. She had convinced Emma to come downtown; her friend’s typical Saturday night usually involved a bag of microwave popcorn and binge watching The Gilmore Girls.
“She’ll be fine,” her father said. He had been very short with her since he’d spoken with Dr. Hidalgo. When he’d left the room, he seemed his normal self, but when he returned, he looked different, more serious and reserved. She had a sinking feeling she knew what they had talked about. The pills. She’d been so focused on making sure Emma was okay, she hadn’t thought through the consequences of handing them over.
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