by Grady, D. R.
“Thank you.”
He tapped her nose in that affectionate way of his. “This is what family does.”
She nodded. It was true. “I don’t want to take family for granted though.”
This earned her another kiss. “You could never take people for granted. You know all too well how precious they are.” Mark kissed her a third time before heading to the garage.
The rumble of the garage door rolling up was faint. Trixi got up to check on Gran.
After coaxing a little more fluid into her, Trixi also gave her some over-the-counter flu medicine. It should take away the aches and pains and reduce her fever so she was comfortable. Next, Trixi called her Aunt Miriam.
Her aunt answered on the first ring, sounding as chirpy as usual. “Hi Aunt Mirry. It’s me.”
“Hi sweetheart. How are you?”
“I’m fine. But Gran and Dad are both down with the flu.”
“Oh no.”
Trixi sighed. “Yes. Dad has enough helpers there to look after him, but Gran lives with me now...”
“And you and Mark both work, so you need someone to check on Mom.”
“Yes. It would be helpful.”
“Johnny left yesterday for mysterious parts, so I’m home by myself.”
“Are you okay?”
“Oh yes. I’ll spend the day at your house tomorrow.” She sounded distracted and then a rifling noise filtered over the phone. “I do have the key.”
“Excellent.” Trixi gave her the security code for the alarm system and was reassured by her aunt’s casual acceptance of illness.
It relieved her to know her aunt planned to spend the day here.
Before they rang off, Miriam said, “Don’t you worry about preparing supper in the morning. I’ll take care of it. It will give your grandmother some breathing room if I spend time in the kitchen.”
“Are you certain?”
“Of course I am, love.”
“Thank you.”
They ended the call soon after so Trixi sat and stared into the fire Mark built earlier. He showed up before she finished her thinking, but it was okay. With no fanfare, he tucked her into his side as he enjoyed the fire with her.
He smelled of the cold and fall. The slight chill about him soon dissipated.
“How was Dad?”
“He’s sick with the flu like Gran.”
“Was he coherent?”
“Mostly. He fussed about Nina and I fussing, but he was obviously not feeling well, so we won.”
She smiled. “Right. He’s not a very good patient.”
“No, but he was feeling so raw he didn’t protest too much.”
“Did you take Nina home?”
“Yes, and saw her inside. She’s fine.”
“No symptoms of the flu in her?”
“Not that I noticed. She could still wake up with it tomorrow.”
Trixi shuddered. “I hope not.”
His arm tightened around her as he bent and kissed the top of her head. “We could end up with it as well.”
She nodded, but figured they would deal with the illness if it happened. Right now, she was enjoying the man and the fire.
“I need to let Katy know about Dad.”
Fishing her phone out again, she sent a quick text and then waited for Katy’s reply. “She said she’ll check on him tomorrow on the way to work.”
She snuggled close again and gazed into the fire a little longer. Even with the illness running through her family, a cherished contentment settled within her.
Chapter 38
After a quick check on her grandmother the next morning, Trixi barreled out of Gran’s rooms and nearly knocked Miriam over. “Hello.” She hugged her aunt in the middle of the mudroom. “You’re here super early.”
Miriam shrugged as she followed her to the kitchen. “I wanted to see you before you left for work.”
“I’m glad. Still if I had the chance to sleep in, I so would.”
“I get up with Johnny. I like mornings.” Miriam, with the familiarity of family, poured herself a mug of coffee.
Horror sprang through Trixi. “Are you a morning person Aunt Mirry?”
“Yes.” Miriam’s sunny smile almost turned her stomach.
“Ugh.” Trixi trailed to the coffee maker. “Have you had breakfast?”
“Not yet. I thought I could have it with you.”
“Of course you may. We don’t discriminate against people like you.” Trixi poured herself a mug of much needed caffeine.
Mark strolled into the kitchen then and headed for her. One proprietary kiss later, he finally veered off to the coffee pot. “Good morning Miriam,” he greeted her aunt before turning back to her. “Why are we discriminating?”
“We’re not. Even though she’s a morning person, we won’t hold it against her.”
He didn’t comment, but then he didn’t need to. His shudder spoke well enough of his feelings.
Trixi grinned as she sipped the wake-up-elixir. There were three hungry people in her kitchen so she better find something edible. The bread drawer revealed a new sleeve of bagels so she took it out and split them before setting the halves on a tray to toast in the range. Next she dug around in the fridge for some leftover bacon from a previous meal and warmed it up in the range as well.
Soon breakfast was ready. Mark set the table and she added the bagels and bacon, then grabbed another mug of coffee. Today was going to be a busy one, so she was determined to have enough energy to face it.
Mark and Trixi also filled Miriam in on Gran. Miriam had dropped by Wintermyer and mentioned she saw Katy as she was leaving.
Trixi started. “She’s early today too.”
“Yes, she got called into work around three this morning, I think. When there was a lull, she popped home to shower and change clothes then rushed over to see Rylan before returning to work.”
“The life of a trauma surgeon means missing sleep.” Trixi still felt for her sister.
“She said this is absolutely common and she had close to five hours before the call, so she didn’t sound worried.” Miriam frowned at Mark. “Do you ever go in during the night?”
He nodded. “If a brain injury comes in while I’m on call.”
“How often does it happen?” Trixi knew he hadn’t left in the middle of the night so far.
“It depends on the patient and the injury.” He shrugged. “If they need me, I go. It’s the life of a specialist.” Mark finished off the bacon.
Glancing at the clock she said, “We need to hurry.”
He was right behind her as they carried their dishes to the sink.
“You lot go, I’ll take care of this.” Miriam waved them away.
They didn’t argue.
Adjusting the humidity on one incubator, Trixi watched the numbers on the monitor that told her a lot about her tiny patient. Brandon was fighting for his life, and only she and her colleagues stood between him and death. So premature his skin was only two cells deep, he couldn’t even be held right now. All touching was kept to a minimum because of his utterly thin skin.
Since he came so early, it was up to her to help him grow and gain weight, which was a challenge because of his underdeveloped gastrointestinal system. He had a feeding tube in the hopes of helping him to take in the nutrients he so desperately needed to grow.
She noted the humidity numbers on his incubator as her patient slept. “Trixi, Brandon’s parents are outside wondering if they can see him,” one of the nurses she worked with said.
“Thank you, Tracy. I’ll go speak to them.”
The anxiety on Tracy’s face cleared. “I didn’t want to,” she admitted with an engaging grin. “You’re far better with concerned parents than I am.”
“We both know that’s not true,” Trixi admonished as she cleaned her hands again before she took a deep breath and went to assure fretful parents. This was often far harder than the actual care of the tiny babies. However, it was a huge part of her job.
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She spoke with them and then took them in to see their son. She also allowed them to touch his hands, briefly and to talk to him. It was necessary for all of them to create a bond, but with Brandon so fragile, this was difficult.
Trixi checked his chart again and noted he had gained weight. When she told his parents this, their relief and happiness was palpable. Weight gain—something so small but significant in a desperate little life like Brandon’s.
Eventually his parents left, reassured, and Trixi moved on to her next patient. Each baby was unique and each needed proper medical care and attention.
One good thing was the day sped by. When she looked at the clock at one point, it was already two o’clock. No wonder her stomach had been sending up distress signals.
“Tracy, I’m leaving to eat lunch.”
The nurse frowned at her. “Lunch was two hours ago.”
“Dr. Forrester was concerned about little Madison.”
Tracy peered down the hall. “You better run or you’ll miss it all together.” The nurse indicated the small team marching their way.
Trixi turned tail and fled the unit.
It had been a long day already, but a good one.
“I need to stop off at the grocery store. Is that okay?”
“Yes.” Mark’s easy agreement earned him a sunny, if weary, smile.
This man made her life so much nicer.
She had her dream job, and now her dream man, on top of a great family and home. It was as though her entire world was finally coming together.
After Mark parked the car, they exited and he tucked her hand into his as they strolled into the store. She selected a basket which he took and then with him holding the basket for her, she choose what they needed and rarely had to release his hand. Trixi decided she loved shopping this way.
Humming in contentment, they turned the corner and came face to face with Chrissy.
“Trixi.” Chrissy’s tone bordered on hostile. It took Chrissy a moment to notice Mark, still holding Trixi’s hand. Her eyes roved over Mark, assessing him, and then her full lips turned down as she turned back to Trixi.
“This is my boyfriend, Mark. Mark, this is Chrissy, a former girlfriend of my father’s.”
“I’m his fiancée,” Chrissy corrected. She was all smiles for Mark, but her eyes hardened whenever she looked at Trixi.
Trixi felt sorry for her. Chrissy was so busy calculating Mark’s net worth she completely missed how impressive he was as a person.
Tightening her grip on Mark’s hand, Trixi wasn’t surprised when he slid closer to her. His solidarity was appreciated so she squeezed his hand. How she had gotten so lucky, she didn’t know.
“Chrissy, you and Dad broke up weeks ago.” Trixi reminded her softly. “He’s in a new relationship.”
Chrissy’s back stiffened. She didn’t say anything, but Trixi was certain she was well aware of this. She felt for Chrissy. Trixi wondered if the woman was mentally ill, but there were no other indications. She was simply in denial that the Wintermyer estate and wealth had slipped through her avaricious grasp.
It was sad.
“It was nice meeting you,” Chrissy cooed at Mark, whose hand tightened around Trixi’s.
His reply was noncommittal and quiet.
When Chrissy turned back to her, those blue eyes glittered like diamonds. Was there a harder substance on earth?
“Trixi.” Her tone was nothing like she had used on Mark.
“Chrissy.” Trixi adopted the same quiet manner as Mark. Really, this woman’s life was the saddest she had ever seen. She had beauty and money of her own, but they weren’t good enough. Her air of discontent and greed did more to mar her natural beauty than a huge wart would have done.
Chrissy flounced away, her shopping basket filled with some lettuce and a carrot.
“That is one unhappy woman,” Mark commented.
“Yes. Maybe it’s why I never liked her for my dad.”
His eyes were understanding. “What is there to like?”
“She hated the fact I own my house, instead of Dad.”
“Let me guess, she informed you as soon as they were engaged you needed to move out.”
“Yes. It came as a nasty shock to realize it was Dad who was moving, not me.”
“What did she do when she realized your dad inherited the Wintermyer estate?” His voice indicated he knew all too well.
She grimaced. “The conversation wasn’t pleasant.”
“Was he dating Nina by then?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“He moved fast.”
“I think meeting Nina finally made him realize he didn’t want to be with Chrissy.”
“Meeting a real woman does that.” He raised their clasped hands to his lips and kissed hers. “A man knows a good woman when he finds her.”
Her heart melted all over again. She thought she heard a gagging noise from somewhere behind them, but Trixi didn’t pay attention. She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him for real. His ensuing grin told her he didn’t mind in the least.
“A woman knows when she finds a good man, too.”
“I hope so.”
Chapter 39
A dull, achy headache proved persistent by Saturday, during her twelve-hour shift. When Trixi realized she couldn’t concentrate, she finally gave in and took some painkiller.
“Trixi, can you come and look at Brandon?”
“Of course.” Trixi hastily took another swallow of coffee, to wash down the painkillers, hoping the caffeine would not only keep her awake, but open the blood vessels in her head and therefore lessen the pain.
She set her travel mug down and then followed Stephanie, one of the best neonatal nurses Trixi had ever met, to the incubator where Brandon dozed. Except he wasn’t dozing now. His underdeveloped lungs wheezed as he tried to cry. It was pitiful and heart wrenching.
His miniature fists waved listlessly in the air, while his skin was mottled and... something else. Trixi leaned closer to inspect his fragile skin. It looked dry and uncomfortable. In addition, there was a patch that might be the start of an infection on his right arm.
Her heart tripped as the ramifications of Brandon developing any sort of infection tore through her mind. His immune system would never be able to combat even the most innocuous infection—it could easily steal his life away.
She checked the humidity levels in the his incubator. They were normal.
“His skin looks really dry,” Stephanie said.
“Yes, but his humidity levels are fine.” Trixi gestured toward the readout.
Stephanie sucked in a horrified breath. “That’s why his skin looks terrible.”
“What?” It wasn’t hard to feel Stephanie’s horror. The nurse lunged for his chart and flipped through it, first carefully and then with frenzied impatience.
“It’s not in here,” she wailed. Stephanie quickly adjusted the humidity control, then a few other dials, before she painstakingly recorded everything in his chart, making certain the notes were in a different color and blinking.
“What’s going on Steph?”
“Brandon needs higher humidity, more oxygen.” Stephanie checked the chart again before rattling off a few medical terms.
Trixi’s mouth dropped open. “Oh no.” Horror lanced through her. “I changed the humidity levels.”
“Of course you did.” Stephanie sent her an incredulous look. “It’s what you should have done. There was nothing in Brandon’s chart about his modified levels.” She clenched a fist and took a deep breath. “Those instructions should have been recorded the minute Dr. Forrester issued them after Brandon’s test results came back. But the nurse on duty failed to do so.”
“This is not good.”
“No, but I can say it was really busy, and she called in with the flu the next day.”
“Oh no,” Trixi moaned. “Did the virus affect any of the babies?” She brought up Brandon’s results and perused them. The modified levels Lo
uisa called for were exactly what any good doctor would have done. Trixi immediately added additional notes in his chart, based on his test results which she thoroughly perused.
“No, she’s extra particular about spreading germs. Thankfully.” Stephanie bit her lip.
It didn’t make the situation any better though. Stephanie was right; the information should have been added to Brandon’s file immediately. This type of mistake often meant the difference between life or death for their struggling patients.
“This is a tragic series of events.”
Brandon’s spindly arms fell back to the mattress, minuscule head listing to the side as his little mouth quivered. Lost in the land of dreams, he trusted them to do their jobs. The fact they hadn’t sliced like a scalpel through her.
“Steph, we need to go through every single chart and make certain they’re up-to-date.”
“Yes,” the nurse agreed. They were already too busy, with not enough staff and more sick babies.
Trixi made an executive decision. “Let’s call in whoever is on call to take over the patient care for now. Those charts are too important.”
Trailing into the office, Trixi notified the on-call nurse and explained what was happening. It turned out she was the same nurse who had failed to originally input the orders. Trixi accepted her apology and asked if she was up to coming in, since she was battling the flu.
“Yes, I’m still tired and a little headachy, but I’m fine.”
“Okay.” Trixi took her at her word. Then she turned her attention to their tiny patients until the second shift nurse who had been on break returned. They put him in charge of the babies and were thankful when Brenda, the nurse on call, also came in. She helped with their tiny patients while Trixi and Stephanie scoured through every single patient chart, with test results, currently in the Level Three neonatal unit line by line. There were other notes that hadn’t made it in.
“We need to hold a mandatory meeting about this.” Trixi rubbed her forehead.
Beside her, a subdued Stephanie nodded. “This shouldn’t have happened even once.”