by Grady, D. R.
“No, but it did.” Trixi’s mouth pulled down. “I know everyone is overworked up here. I know we’re understaffed, but this information is too vital not to be recorded as soon as it’s issued.”
She sent off an email to Louisa and then one to every single nurse who worked on the floor. Louisa could determine when to hold the meeting, where, and what to say.
Her heart in her mouth, and upset about her part in Brandon’s distress, she finally signed out of her shift, an hour late. There was still so much more work to do, but she was exhausted, her headache had returned with a vengeance, and her throat was a little sore.
Trixi climbed into her car, since Mark hadn’t worked today. She wanted nothing more than to go home and crawl into bed. Then she remembered Mark was at home.
No he wasn’t. He had some family commitments this weekend, and while she had been invited, she worked all weekend. At least she regretted missing out. Last weekend had been fun. She purposely didn’t think about the events of Saturday night into Sunday.
The memory of someone trying to burn her house down wasn’t conducive to improving her mood. Since her headache had increased and her stomach teetered on unsure, Trixi instead turned her attention to Gran. That lady had improved through the latter part of the week and was feeling better, although still not her cheerful, usual self.
When she got home, Trixi first hunted her down. “There you are,” Gran greeted her. Her voice was still nasally, but she sounded better. Talking set off a coughing spell though. Trixi handed her a glass of freshly squeezed juice and then poured herself a glass as well.
They drank in companionable silence. “How was your shift besides long?”
“Hectic. We discovered we’re so busy some of the patient information isn’t getting into the computers. It’s a huge problem.”
“Yes, I imagine it is.”
It could cause them to be sued from here and back, among other awful things, although the worst would be to lose a baby unnecessarily. Since her head thumped even more now, Trixi said goodnight to her grandmother who looked like she was also ready to go back to sleep and carried both glasses to the dishwasher. She loaded them and as an afterthought grabbed a granola bar, the only thing her stomach didn’t protest.
Trixi trailed upstairs to shower and change into sleeping clothes then sat in the chair by the window. She left the light on so Mark would see it the minute he got home.
Moments later, exhaustion came to whisk her away.
Mark wasn’t surprised when he tapped on the partially open door and didn’t get a response. The only reason he had come upstairs was because he saw Trixi’s light was on. It cast gentle shadows across the soft features of the most beautiful woman in the world.
She looked warm and sweet and everything a woman should be.
Smiling at the lovely picture, he gently scooped her into his arms. She snuggled close and murmured something. It sounded like his name.
“Hey, I’m home,” he whispered into her hair.
Her response was to sigh happily and settle more comfortably against him. He laughed, and the rumble must have woken her.
Those gorgeous silvery-blue eyes opened and stared into his. He stopped on his way to the bed.
“Hi.” His voice sounded husky.
Trixi’s lips curled up. “Hi. What are you doing?”
“Carrying you to your bed. It looks like you fell asleep in the chair.”
“I did. I meant to stay awake until you got home.” She swallowed, and it looked painful.
“You didn’t have to.”
“No.” Her eyes were bright and steady. There was a glow there he recognized because he was feeling it too. Mark hesitated to pin the word “love” to it, but love seemed like the most appropriate description.
“I wanted to though.” She ran a hand through her hair. It tumbled down her back. “It’s been a really long day.”
He resumed his journey to her bed. “It was weird to have a Saturday without you here.”
“I dislike working weekends. Fortunately it won’t happen often.”
“Do you work tomorrow?”
She nodded. “Seven a.m. to seven p.m. again. This flu has made us short staffed.”
Arriving at her bed, he carefully placed her on it and watched as she scrambled under the covers. “So you have to be up early again?”
“Yes, unfortunately.” Her hand shaped his face and he could see the regret in her eyes.
“I’ll take care of Gran, so no worries there.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes smiled at him, but her weariness was evident.
“You need sleep.”
Her smile increased even as her eyelids drifted shut. “Yes.”
Mark leaned forward to kiss her goodnight and while he got a response, it was evident she was already well on her way to visit the Sandman.
He watched her for a few moments. It was amazing to him this small, quiet woman had swathed herself so tightly around his life. Now he couldn’t imagine her not being there. In fact, he didn’t want to imagine a world without her in it.
Mark snapped out the light and then meandered across the room to the door. He left it propped open and made his way down the stairs to his own room.
He was already missing her.
“I’m done here Steph. Do you need anything else?” Trixi’s hands were raw from all the washings. She didn’t feel bad, but she didn’t feel all that good either, so if she was coming down with something, she didn’t want to infect her small patients. On the same vein, she, Stephanie, and the other staff had all worn masks so as not to transfer germs. Little Brandon was holding his own, barely.
“No, I have to finish this paperwork and then I’m right behind you.” The nurse flapped a hand but kept her attention on the screen in front of her.
Trixi waved back and turned to speak with the physician assistant in charge of second shift. He was everything Louisa said he was, excellent with the babies, staff, and parents. She was happy to hand things over to him, who was also filling in because of the flu.
“You look terrible,” he said. Not unkindly, just stating the facts as he saw them.
“That’s pretty much how I’m feeling.”
“Are you off tomorrow?”
“Yes, and Tuesday.”
“I suggest you stay in bed.”
“That’s my plan. Goodnight.” She finally left the unit.
It was nice to think of home and her bed. The headache that had bothered her yesterday persisted, her throat scratchy. All she wanted was to see Mark and Gran and then go to bed.
Mark would understand. It was then she remembered he had another family function tonight and wouldn’t be home until late. She had missed him all day. Silly and romantic, but true nonetheless.
Turning her phone on once she hit the parking lot, there was a message from Gran. She needed more tissues and cough drops. Trixi thought those items might come in handy, so she stopped by a store on her way home. She was heading toward the checkout counter with a loaded basket when Chrissy stepped into her path.
Suppressing a groan was hard.
“That man is your boyfriend?”
It was sad how mushy her brain felt. Maybe it was because of her long shift. “What man?”
“The doctor you were holding hands with last week.”
“Yes, Mark and I are dating.” Mushy brain or not, she was still effervescent about their relationship.
“You already have the perfect home, now you need the perfect man?” There was a trace of venom in Chrissy’s voice and more than a little accusation.
“Actually, I also have the perfect job.” Trixi smiled, although another wave of weariness washed over her.
“He’s far too good for you.”
Trixi almost didn’t hear her, but she tilted her head to the side, and asked, “How do you figure?”
“He only wants you because of your house.”
Thinking about it, Trixi eventually shrugged. “I don’t particularl
y care why he’s with me. I’m just super happy he’s in my life.” This time the wave crashing over her was compassion for Chrissy. “Maybe if you appreciated the people in your life, you wouldn’t be so unhappy. I hope you find happiness like I have.”
Chrissy’s cheeks stained with red, whether from embarrassment or anger there was no telling. Either way, it was uncomfortable, so with a faint nod, Trixi hefted her basket and headed for an open line.
The threatening tiredness from before added another serious warning so she hurried through the checkout process and then home. After a quick check on Gran, she handed over some of her bounty before hurrying upstairs, and then changed her mind. She wrote Mark a quick note and left it taped to his door.
One quick but thorough shower later and she was on her way to bed. Her throat wasn’t on fire, but it did hurt, so she took the nighttime flu pills she had bought and they added the final element to her weariness.
Chapter 40
When Trixi awoke the next morning, it was to find Mark sitting on her bed. He counted her respiration and then checked her glands.
“What are you doing?” Her question came out raspy.
“I’m guessing you have the flu.” He leaned forward to kiss her nose.
She groaned. “Headache, sore throat, and tired.”
“My advice is for you to stay in bed today.”
Trixi wrinkled her nose. “I don’t have time to stay in bed.”
“Yes, you do. You’re off work, since you just worked seven days in a row, right?”
“Yes.”
Mark traced a pattern across her nose. “If you stay in bed today, you should be able for more tomorrow.”
He rose. Trixi shoved the covers aside and made to follow him.
“What are you doing?”
“Bathroom and then I need some liquids,” she replied.
“I’ll wait.”
She didn’t waste time in the bathroom. Orange juice sounded amazingly good to her. Not that she felt rotten. She didn’t. However, spending the day in bed wasn’t going to be a hardship.
When she joined Mark at the door, she was a little unsteady. He wrapped an arm around her and she was grateful.
“How did you suspect I have the flu?”
“I came in to say goodbye and your breathing was off.”
“Oh. Makes sense.” Her chest was tight, like her lungs were constricted. She had a new appreciation for her tiny patients.
“You’re feeling congested?”
She nodded. “Yes. It goes along with the flu.” Then she sneezed and nearly knocked herself off her feet. Only Mark’s arm around her kept her upright as they descended the stairs, very slowly.
Gran was in the kitchen when they arrived. “You’re sick too,” she said flatly.
Trixi dropped into the chair beside her to catch her breath. “Yes. I wasn’t feeling well yesterday or Saturday. I’m planning to stay in bed today.” She visually examined her grandmother. “You’re looking better.”
“I’m feeling a little more human now.” Gran spoiled this statement by sneezing. It started a coughing fit.
Shoving to her feet, Trixi headed for the fridge. She found orange juice and poured generous glasses for all three of them.
Mark dispersed them. They drank those before he sent them both back to bed. Trixi spent the day there with a few trips to check on Gran.
When Mark got home later, she tucked a pizza into the oven for him, despite his protests. It was something easy and he liked pizza.
With a generous salad, he enjoyed the fare while she and Gran tried chicken soup and crackers. Her stomach wasn’t even certain it wanted soup.
Everyone went to bed early that night.
When she awoke the next morning, Trixi was feeling much better. She got up, showered, and then made her way downstairs. Hoping to see Mark, she frowned when she didn’t hear the distant sound of water running through the pipes or the faint creak of wooden floors.
He should be up and about by now. Otherwise he’d be late for work. She strolled to his door and tapped on it. This room led into his sitting room. It was dark. She passed through to his bedroom door. Knocking, she thought she heard something but then wasn’t certain. She cracked the door and called softly, “Mark?”
A faint rustling of the covers indicated there was life there, but it was also all she heard. She eased around the door and hurried to his bed. In the meager beam of the bathroom light she snapped on, his eyes looked bright and a little glazed.
“You have the flu,” she stated, and reached out to check his temperature. Sure enough, he was overheated, but shivering and he looked like death.
“Trixi?” His voice was as raspy as hers had been yesterday.
“Yes, sweetheart. You’re sick. I’m going to call in to work for you today.” When he didn’t argue, it told her all too well how miserable he felt.
She quickly made the call from his study. There were a few patients out with the same virus and their appointments already needed rescheduled. His colleagues, with the aid of his team, could handle those who were still on.
Relieved, she hung up and then hurried into the kitchen where she made a fresh batch of orange juice from the tree in the conservatory. Once finished, she poured him a glass. She also filled a pitcher with water and carried both in to him. He drank all the juice, but didn’t want the water. Leaving it for later, she repeated the process with Gran.
“Baby girl, I’m much better.” Gran no sooner finished speaking than she started coughing. Trixi observed for a moment and then made a phone call. It was evident Gran did feel better except for the cough.
There were meds available to help with that. “Gran, I called your doctor about a medicine to help with your cough.”
“I don’t...” but then she started coughing again, and Trixi raised an eyebrow.
“I need to go pick it up.”
“Did Mark get to work?”
“No, he’s home with the flu.”
“I didn’t think I heard him up making coffee.”
“He’s in bed.”
Gran nodded weakly, the coughing fit having taken a lot out of her. “Without this cough, I would feel nearly back to normal.”
“I’m leaving soon to pick up your prescription. It should help a lot.”
“You only had this a couple of days, why did I get it so bad?”
“Normally we in the health care professions don’t get sick at all. Since many of us have gotten this, it’s a doozy.”
“So Mark wouldn’t normally have gotten sick?”
“No. I imagine he’ll feel okay enough to go back to work tomorrow. It’ll just be a nuisance by then.”
“I can hear you’re feeling better, like your father.” It wasn’t an accusation. Not exactly.
Trixi smiled. “Except for the occasional sneeze, I am better. Dad said he’s fine too.”
“Wish I was.” Gran coughed again and Trixi handed her some cough drops before heading for the mudroom where her coat and purse hung.
It didn’t take her long to hop into her small car and point toward the pharmacy.
There was no sign of Warren, thankfully, but a pharmacist Trixi had seen a few other times. Gran’s physician had sent in the prescription and it would be ready in a few minutes. She headed down the cold and flu aisle and picked up a collection of necessary items for Mark.
By the time she made her selections, the prescription was ready. She hurriedly paid and then made for her car. Once home she handed the prescription to Gran, watching as she took the first dose, and then headed back to Mark.
His eyes were red-rimmed as was his nose. He thanked her profusely for the items she bought him, but looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. She understood and left him alone to sleep until lunchtime. They all tried chicken soup, but she was the only one who really seemed interested in it.
She rested all afternoon and was ready to return to work on Wednesday. Mark awoke Wednesday morning still a little raspy, but o
bviously feeling better. They were both amused by Gran’s mutterings. And gently reminded her they were medical professionals so their immune systems had to be excellent. It went with the job.
They set off to work and Trixi wondered what she would find when she arrived. Parting ways in the main hallway, she waved goodbye to Mark, aware she couldn’t kiss him like she wanted to. He looked like he wanted to kiss her as well. Of course, his look might indicate he wasn’t back to normal yet and wanted to go back to bed.
She preferred her version.
Arriving on the floor a few moments later, Trixi was greeted by solemn faces. “What happened?” she demanded and hightailed it to Louisa who was in conference with Brandon’s parents. She caught enough to realize their little trooper must have died. With tears in her eyes she turned to one of the day nurses.
“What happened?”
“Brandon went into cardiac arrest early this morning.”
Trixi’s own heart seized. “He died?” Her roughened voice had nothing to do with the flu.
“Yes. His body wasn’t up to that sort of distress.”
Everyone who worked in neonatal understood there were babies who didn’t make it. This knowledge didn’t make losing a patient any easier. It didn’t make it easier to inform the distraught, grief stricken parents who had waited eager months to meet their child.
Only now, they needed to make funeral arrangements for the same child who had garnered such hope. It was heart wrenching and made neonatal personnel consider transferring to a new unit.
Louisa and Trixi both hugged Brandon’s parents, and then the grieving couple turned away. Once they left the unit she and Louisa converged on each other. Trixi’s heart didn’t stop aching as they made for Louisa’s office.
“How much of this is because his records weren’t up to date?” Trixi asked baldly.
“I don’t know,” Louisa answered just as bluntly. “Don’t blame yourself though. Even if his incubator had been perfect, he still didn’t have great odds.” She shoved a hand through her springy curls, as though it had already been a long day.
“That doesn’t make it any easier to lose a patient.”