Better to Trust

by Frimmer, Heather

  Emma’s eyes widened, and then she looked away. Without a word, she turned up the volume on the TV and immersed herself once again in the pleasant world of Stars Hollow.

  CHAPTER THIRTY - FOUR

  Alison

  November 1, 2019

  “MY UBER DRIVER WAS SO WEIRD,” Sadie said after Rhea let her in. “He kept offering me food.”

  “That is odd.” Alison felt badly that Sadie had to Uber here. She wished she could pick her up at school and take her to the mall, but she wasn’t there yet.

  Sadie took off her jacket and sat down on the couch. “How are you?” she asked.

  “I have news for you,” Alison said. Sadie had never been particularly close with Michael, but Alison needed to tell her what was going on. “Uncle Michael and I have decided to get divorced.”

  “Really?” Sadie asked, her face scrunched. “I can’t believe this. First my dad moved out and now this. Our family really is falling apart.” She wiped tears from her face with her sleeve.

  “What?” Alison said. She’d been trying to forget what Robin had said, but now she couldn’t pretend any longer. “When did your dad move out?”

  “Right after he came back from rehab. Mom found him a place in Newton Centre.”

  “Rehab?”

  “Yeah. He went there in the spring. To get off the pills. Mom said he’s been taking them for five years.”

  Michael’s horrible accusation had been true. Alison had been hoping it was just a vicious rumor. Had Cynthia known about Grant’s addiction when she’d begged him to take on Alison’s case? If Grant had really been addicted for that long, there must have been some signs: mood swings, unpredictable behavior, pill bottles around the house. Cynthia must have known how quickly things would fall apart if his secret came to light, so she’d wrapped herself in a comfortable blanket of denial.

  “How will you manage on your own?” Sadie asked with a sniffle.

  Alison pulled herself away from her thoughts. She had to be present for Sadie. “I’m doing just fine. I’m much stronger than I thought.”

  “You absolutely are. I’m so proud of you,” Sadie said.

  “And I have lots of people who love me.”

  “I sometimes wondered if Uncle Michael was right for you.” Sadie took a deep breath. “Like you didn’t always click.” She leaned over to give Alison a hug.

  “Enough about this,” Alison said. “What’s happening with you?”

  “Skate America was last week. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  “Why?” Alison asked. “Were you supposed to skate there?” Sadie was a good skater, but Alison knew she couldn’t compete at the national level.

  “No, Emma was.”

  “What happened to Emma?”

  “Oh my gosh,” Sadie’s expression turned serious. “I can’t believe you don’t know. She broke her ankle and it was all my fault.”

  “What do you mean?” Alison had missed a lot when she was out of commission, but surely Sadie was exaggerating. How could a broken ankle be her fault? Sadie launched into a dramatic story about a planetarium show, Emma taking pills that came from Grant’s nightstand, and falling down in the street. Her voice wavered as she finished. Alison put her arm around Sadie and pulled her in again.

  “You’re being too hard on yourself,” Alison said.

  “Emma will never skate again because of me,” Sadie said.

  “That is so sad. But no one person is responsible. You could also blame your father or Piper or Emma. Life is com … complicated.”

  “I guess.”

  “Learning to forgive is important. Even yourself.” As Alison spoke, she thought about taking her own words to heart. Before you can forgive anyone else, you have to learn to forgive yourself. She couldn’t blame herself for everything, just like she couldn’t allow the blame to lie only with others. Her marriage didn’t fail because of her or Michael alone. Maybe if she hadn’t entered the marriage with her eyes closed, things might have turned out differently. Her AVM would have bled at some point, even if it hadn’t happened while fooling around with Becca. Her surgery may have turned out the same even if she’d chosen a different surgeon. And when it came to Grant and Cynthia, she’d been standing on principle, but maybe she needed to stop being so defensive, take off her blinders so she could see other sides of the story.

  “It’s been months,” Sadie said. “I’m not sure Emma will ever really forgive me. Things will never be the same as they were.”

  “It will take time,” Alison said. “You need to be patient with her.”

  “I’m trying,” she said.

  “You’ll have to prove yourself worthy of her trust. You’re a very special person, Sadie Kaplan. Don’t you ever forget that.”

  Sadie nodded, her eyes clouded with thought. Alison hoped at least some of what she’d said had struck a chord with her.

  “There’s something else …” Sadie said. “I heard my parents arguing a couple nights ago. It sounded like therapy assignment, like he had to be honest about everything as part of his treatment. My father was telling my mom about what happened during your surgery. My dad mentioned a panic attack and leaving the room. Then he said something about a lot of bleeding.”

  Alison’s mouth dropped open. She couldn’t believe it, but she knew Sadie would never lie. Not to her. How could Grant leave the operating room with her on the table? Was Grant high when he’d sawed open her skull and removed chunks of her brain? Is that why things had gone so disastrously wrong? Had Grant and Cynthia been trying to hide this from her? So many questions flew through her mind, but she did her best to control her anger and listen.

  “Then my mom said something about being pulled over by the police when you started bleeding the next day. I’m not sure what that’s about.”

  What? Why wasn’t Grant at the hospital watching over her? Why would he get pulled over? The questions screaming through her brain had no acceptable answers. She took a breath, trying to prevent the fear and confusion from showing on her face.

  “I’m sorry you heard that,” Alison said. The last thing she wanted to do was put Sadie in the middle of the family feud. Though she acted mature, she was still a child. Alison knew now she could never sue Grant. It would destroy Sadie. Alison had always protected Sadie and she wasn’t about to stop now. No matter how bad things were, she’d have to find another way to work them out.

  After Sadie left, her words played over and over in Alison’s mind. She had trusted Grant with everything, and he had betrayed her trust in the most horrifying ways. Anger and hurt surged through her all over again. She’d been duped, convinced by Cynthia and Michael that Grant would be her savior, when in reality, he’d been the worst possible choice.

  CHAPTER THIRTY - FIVE

  Grant

  March 27, 2019

  OUTSIDE THE ADMINISTRATIVE CONFERENCE ROOM, Grant’s necktie threatened to cut off the blood flow in his carotid arteries. Maybe that was why he had weird tingling in his scalp and pounding in his temples. He loosened the knot and took a deep breath. What was taking them so long? They’d asked him to be here at 8 AM and it was almost 9:00. The only other times he’d been called to the conference room had been for accolades: five-star reviews on the hospital surveys, glowing patient letters sent to the CEO, focus groups on how to bring in more surgical volume.

  At least he didn’t have to wear a monkey suit on a regular workday. On the rare day he escaped for lunch, he saw financial guys on the streets around the hospital wearing identical gray suits, phones glued to their ears while they walked. How could they focus on work while wearing such constricting clothing? In his usual scrubs, his body felt comfortable, freeing his mind to focus on the surgical field and his hands to work their magic.

  His suit jacket stretched tight across his back. He really should get back to his schedule of going to the gym on Tuesdays and Thursdays after office hours, but nothing about his daily routine had been normal in the two weeks since Alison’s surgery.
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br />   “Dr. Kaplan has had a family emergency,” he had heard Laura in his office saying on the phone when he’d stopped in to pick up an extra bottle of Oxy. Though the explanation was entirely true, it was incomplete, like one of those beautiful Russian dolls that looks so perfect on the surface but is completely hollow inside, all form and no substance. Of course, his staff couldn’t tell his patients that he’d caused the family emergency, that he was taking time off to try and clean up the mess he’d made. Grant could feel the collar of his shirt getting damp. He wondered how much longer they’d make him wait. The sooner he got this misunderstanding cleared up, the more quickly he could put it behind him.

  The conference room door opened and Vanessa Hidalgo stepped out. Instead of scrubs and a white coat, she was wearing a black dress and heels, a necklace of silver beads around her neck. Her fancy dress ramped up his anxiety level even more. When he’d come home Monday night after Alison had woken up, all he’d wanted to do was take a few Oxy, have a glass of wine, and forget about the day. He needed a break from the hospital, an hour without talking about complications, and percentages, and therapy options. As soon as he took his pills and sat down at the kitchen table to go through his emails, he’d noticed one from Vik’s hospital email account, the red and navy shield-shaped hospital logo emblazoned at the top. Why would Vik have sent him an official hospital email? He scrolled down past the heading to the body of the email.

  To Dr. Grant Kaplan,

  A fellow staff remember has reported an incident to this committee in good faith. The professional assistance committee is obligated to investigate all reports received in a timely and thorough manner. This correspondence should not be cause for alarm. The goal of the investigation is to ensure the highest level of safety and compliance at our institution. Please report to the seventh-floor administrative conference room on Wednesday March 27th at 8 AM.

  Sincerely,

  Vikram Chawla, MD

  Chairman of the Professional Assistance Committee

  Vik had been known to kid around, but it was too early for an April fool’s prank. Grant’s stomach dropped. This was no joke.

  Now, Vanessa walked by him without making eye contact. How could she act like he was invisible, like he wasn’t sitting right in front of her?

  Grant stood up and followed her.

  “Vanessa,” he called when he’d almost caught up. When she refused to turn around, Grant grabbed her by the arm. He wouldn’t let this stupid misunderstanding ruin their working relationship.

  “Don’t touch me,” Vanessa said, shaking her arm free.

  “This is getting a little out of hand,” Grant said. “We’re friends and you’re acting like I’m some sort of monster.”

  “I never said that.”

  “The look on your face certainly did. I’m an excellent surgeon. You know that.”

  “I never said you weren’t,” Vanessa said. “Patient safety is my number one priority. When I see anything that threatens that, I have an obligation to speak up.”

  “I didn’t hurt anyone.”

  “A young girl with a promising ice-skating career may never skate again because of you. I would classify that as hurting someone.”

  Grant’s breath caught. With all of the craziness of the past few days, the repercussions of Emma’s injury hadn’t even crossed his mind. After he’d made sure she was plugged in with the best orthopedic surgeon, he’d moved on. He made a mental note to text Derrick later and see how she was doing.

  “What did you say in there?” he asked.

  “I told them the truth,” Vanessa said.

  “The truth about what?”

  “Oh, come on, Grant. You know as well as I do exactly what happened and who was at fault. Don’t play games with me.”

  “Grant?” Vik stood in the doorway of the conference room. “We’re ready for you.”

  Before Grant could respond, Vanessa turned and walked away.

  He walked back to the conference room door, trying to assess the situation by the look on Vik’s face, but he looked like the same guy who’d been by his side for years. And now, Vik was tasked with investigating him. They were supposed to be on the same side, not on opposing teams.

  “Everything okay?” Vik asked.

  “Well, let’s see. My sister-in-law may never walk or talk again, my daughter has befriended the devil, and my best friend is accusing me of God knows what. Never been better.”

  “Listen, I know this isn’t the best situation,” Vik said. “I’d much rather talk with you over dinner and a few drinks, but this is part of my job. Can we try to make this as smooth as possible?”

  “You tell me, Dr. Chawla. You’re the one in charge.”

  “Enough with the sarcasm,” Vik said. “We have to take this seriously. Between the alleged drug use and the pending legal action, there’s a lot to unpack. I trust we can all cooperate on this.”

  Grant adjusted his collar.

  “I hope we can put this all behind us.” Vik motioned for Grant to enter the conference room and pointed to an empty chair at one end of the long oval-shaped table. He then made his way to the head and sat down so that he was looking directly at Grant.

  About ten other people sat around the table, some of whom Grant recognized from his years working here. A heavy woman seated to Vik’s left used to be a nurse in the ICU for many years. She’d been promoted to nursing administration, but Grant recalled she was always a stickler for protocol. He would never forget the time she yelled at him for forgetting to put on one of those stupid yellow gowns to see a patient on contact precautions. A lanky man wearing thick black glasses along the side of the table had been the head pharmacist for as long as Grant could remember. Joel Hitchens, the obstetrician who had delivered Sadie, was seated to his left. In the complete silence of the room, Grant couldn’t exactly start up a conversation with Joel and he didn’t know what he would say anyway. He decided to nod and Joel nodded back.

  “I’d like to welcome Dr. Kaplan to our monthly meeting of the professional assistance committee,” Vik said. “Some of you may know that Dr. Kaplan and I have been friends since our residencies right here at the mother ship.” While a few people smiled at Vik’s attempt to lighten the mood, the nurse remained serious. Sadie would have said she had a bad case of RBF, resting bitch face. Grant was sure Sadie had learned this expression from Piper. “Despite our relationship, I assure you that our friendship will remain separate from the matter before our committee today. I’ve asked Nancy Kovatch to take the lead on questioning to make sure we don’t introduce bias.”

  Grant wasn’t sure which one was Nancy until he saw the fat nurse put on a pair of reading glasses. She looked down at a paper on the table and cleared her throat.

  “Dr. Kaplan, this committee is going to put your malpractice suit aside for now. We’ll leave that for legal to sort out. In an effort to get straight to the point, I would like to ask you some questions about what happened on the night of March 23rd.” Nancy stopped talking and looked at him.

  Grant wasn’t about to say anything until there was an actual question at hand. He couldn’t help but think about all of those legal TV shows he’d watched over the years. Did he have the right to remain silent like all those people on Law and Order who were arrested and brought into one of those windowless interrogation rooms for questioning? For a second, he thought that maybe he should have contacted an attorney in preparation for this meeting, but that would have been ridiculous. This wasn’t a legal proceeding. No one was threatening to arrest him.

  “Dr. Kaplan, do you have an answer to that question?”

  “I’m not sure what the question is.” Grant knew what she was asking, but he chose to play dumb rather than offer up information.

  “Would you kindly explain what happened to your daughter and her friend, Emma Wright, last Saturday night?”

  “Emma broke her ankle,” Grant said.

  “Could you elaborate for the committee?”

  “I’m no
t sure what you want to know,” he said, his pulse throbbing in his temple.

  “From what I can glean from the medical record, Emma Wright fell and broke her ankle and was brought to the emergency department by your daughter, Sadie Kaplan. Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “When a tox screen was sent by the ER doctor, it came back positive for opiates. Am I doing a good job summarizing so far?”

  “I wasn’t there at that point. Everything you’ve said I’ve heard from Vanessa, so it’s really hearsay.” Grant wished he could take back that word. Using legal terms was certainly not going to him help him here.

  “Fair enough,” Vik said. “Let’s ask Dr. Kaplan about things he has direct knowledge of.”

  “I’m trying to make sure all of the facts are straight.” Nancy flipped her page over. “So, Dr. Kaplan, what the committee would really like to know is, how did Emma Wright get access to opiates?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Grant said. He certainly wasn’t going to admit that his daughter stole the pills from his bedside table and then gave them to her friend. That would be akin to signing the death certificate of his surgical career. “She’s not my daughter.”

  “Are you trying to evade the question?” Nancy took off her glasses and stared at Grant, her eyes narrowed.

  “Let’s not get hostile,” Vik said. “We’re all colleagues here.”

  “Yes, we should maintain respect for Dr. Kaplan,” Joel Hitchens said.

  “I’m sorry,” Nancy said. Grant knew she only apologized because two doctors had cut her down to size. “Let me backtrack for a minute. Everyone in this room knows that you are a skilled neurosurgeon as well as a world-renowned expert on the treatment of vascular malformations. We know that you have written numerous scholarly articles, treated thousands of grateful patients, and trained scores of residents to become master surgeons themselves. However, that is not why we are here today. Our sole purpose today is to figure out what happened on Saturday night in the hope of maintaining patient safety at our institution.”