She looks worried and I realize that maybe she thinks I’m here to give her bad news about her or the baby.
“Everything is fine. You’re doing well and so is the baby.”
“Not with me,” she says. “Something is wrong with you. What is it?”
I shake my head. “Just a difficult case, that’s all. Nature of the job.”
“I’m sorry.” She reaches over and touches my shoulder in the same way I comforted her the other night. She studies me. “You need a distraction. Something to get your mind off whatever is bothering you.”
“Let me guess,” I say, looking up at the TV. “ESPN? Or maybe you had something else in mind. One of those survivalist programs perhaps? Bare-ass naked guy climbs into volcano whilst trying not to roast his balls?”
She laughs for the third time. Why am I even counting? Then she asks, “Whilst?”
“Sorry, I guess my British attending is rubbing off on me.”
She nods. “Oh, right, the one who sentenced you to babysitting duty.”
“Not a sentence,” I say. “A privilege.”
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever you say, Dr. Stone. And no, I wasn’t referring to watching television to get your mind off things. I was thinking of a game my friends and I used to play in college when we were stressed out over an exam.” She frowns. “But now that I think of it, it wouldn’t work in this situation.”
“Why not?” I ask, intrigued.
“Well, because for one, I’m pregnant; and two, you’re working which probably means drinking alcohol would be frowned upon.”
“Probably,” I say sarcastically. “What game was it?”
Her face pinks up. “It’s totally juvenile. But it was fun. I don’t know why I even thought of it. It’s stupid.”
“After the way you just blushed, now you have to tell me, Elizabeth. What is it?”
“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Her face breaks into an adolescent smile. “Have you ever played ‘Never have I ever’?”
I draw my brows together thinking of the games my brothers and I would play in the old neighborhood. “Is it anything like ‘Spin the bottle’ or ‘Truth or dare’?”
She giggles. “Not that juvenile,” she says. “In ‘Never have I ever,’ you say something you’ve never done before and if anyone else in the room has done it, they take a drink. It’s fun.” Then she looks embarrassed again. “Well, it was when I was nineteen. Sorry, it was a stupid idea.”
I smile. She doesn’t know what a great idea it really is. Elizabeth is a closed book. Not once has she ever given anyone details about her except where her pregnancy is concerned. And I could use something to get my mind off things. Every time I look at my damn hand, I think of the tiny girl I was holding in it earlier. “No, I want to play,” I tell her.
She looks at me awkwardly. “What don’t you understand about the whole drinking thing?”
“We’re not going to drink alcohol, Elizabeth. Although I do have a damn fine bottle of champagne in my locker.”
“Why do you have a bottle of champagne in your locker?” she asks. “Hot date after work?”
“Ha! Hardly. I’m a second-year resident. There isn’t any time for dating. No, I had a professor in medical school, Dr. Williston, who said every new doctor should keep a bottle handy because you never know when you are going to want to celebrate that one great thing. He said for some it would be the first time they do a solo surgery. For others, the first time they deliver a baby. Or maybe for when you save a life by making a difficult diagnosis.”
“And you haven’t opened it yet?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Haven’t felt the urge.”
“It’ll happen,” she says, encouragingly. “Probably when you least expect it.”
“I suppose,” I say. “Anyway, alcohol is not required under my rules of the game.”
I look around the room for ideas when my eyes land on the tray table beside her bed. I stand up and walk around the room to examine the Jell-O cups. There are six different flavors. Six possible things I can learn about the girl lying in this bed. My mind starts to go over all the possible questions.
“We’ll play for Jell-O,” I tell her. “And we play until each of us has tried every one.”
“Jell-O?” she asks, like I’m off my rocker.
“Why not? Abby said you need to pick your favorite flavor; and I, as the great babysitter I am, will play the stupid, juvenile game just to make you happy.” I wink down at her.
She smiles and tucks a lock of wet hair behind her ear. “Fine,” she says, pretending to pout—but I know better. She’s happy.
She reaches over and grabs a couple of spoons encased in plastic. She hands me one. “I’ll go first, just so you’ll know how to play.”
“You better,” I say. “This medical degree I have might not qualify me to understand the rudimentary rules of a childhood game.”
“Shut up,” she says, laughing at me. “Okay, I’m going first anyway. Um . . . let me think.” She looks at me and scrunches up her nose to form a small wrinkle. “Never have I ever been a doctor.”
I roll my eyes at her. “Really?”
“Just trying to make sure you get how to play. Now pick your flavor.”
I open the tinfoil top on the yellow one and take a bite. Lemon—not my favorite.
“Okay, now it’s my turn. Never have I ever been out of the country.”
Her hand doesn’t move at all. “Back to me,” she says. “Never have I ever ridden a horse.”
I pick up the light-green cup and take a bite. It’s friggin’ gross. “Tenth grade,” I say, choking the bite down. “The horse’s name was Beauty. She bucked me off and I broke my damn leg. Alright, let’s see . . . never have I ever had stitches.”
She picks up the yellow one and takes a bite. “You must have led a sheltered life,” she says, pulling her leg out from under the blanket. She points to her ankle. “Scooter accident when I was eight.” Then she shows me her left elbow. “Softball field. Fourteen years old. Didn’t know there was a break in the fence when I dove for a ball. Ripped my elbow from here to here.” She runs her finger along the faded scar.
“And this one?” I ask, touching the faint scar on her collarbone.
She looks up at me, frozen. Damn it. I shouldn’t have touched her.
Why the hell did you touch her?
I pull my hand back as she clears her throat. “Uh, I forgot about that one. It’s not nearly as interesting, I—I fell into the corner of a table.”
“Age?”
“Huh?” she asks.
“You were eight when you fell off the scooter and fourteen when you dove for the softball. How old were you when you fell into the table?”
“Oh . . . uh, twenty-three,” she says.
“After a night of playing ‘Never have I ever’?” I joke.
She smiles morosely. “Funny, but no.” She pushes the yellow Jell-O across her tray table with her nose in the air. “Definitely not that one,” she says. “Okay, never have I ever flown in an airplane.”
I pick up the red cup and open it before dipping my spoon in. “Mmmm, pretty good,” I say, swallowing the strawberry confection. “My parents moved us from New York to California when I was fifteen. They still live there so I fly out when I can, which isn’t much these days.”
“It’s nice that you get to see them,” she says sadly. “Even if it’s only occasionally.”
The look on her face. Jesus. She really doesn’t have anyone, does she?
“My turn again.” I can’t think of one. My mind is blank. She’s going to think I’m a lame doctor who can’t think up a stupid question. I just spout out the first thing that comes to mind. “Never have I ever been married.”
“I, uh . . .” She looks at the cups in front of her and then out the window.
Damn it. I went too far. I am a lame fucking doctor. What was I thinking?
There’s a knock on the door. I turn around to see Mallory
standing in the doorway with a few bags in her hands. I walk over to help her with them, relieved to be saved from my stupidity.
“Hi, Mal. Thanks for coming. Elizabeth, this is my sister-in-law, Mallory. I thought that since you two are about the same age and you obviously have something in common, you should meet.”
Mallory rubs her pregnant belly as she walks over to the bed. “Hi, Elizabeth. It’s really nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” Elizabeth says, looking confused.
Mallory notices her reaction, too. “When Kyle said he had a pregnant patient who was on bed rest for what could be weeks, I told him I wanted to stop by and keep you company. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to be quarantined away from the world. Would you mind if I sat with you for a while?”
Elizabeth smiles, looking more at ease. “Mind? Not at all, it would be great to have some company.”
She looks guiltily at me. “Not that you aren’t good company, Kyle, uh . . . Dr. Stone, but you have no idea what it’s like to be pregnant.”
“It’s still Kyle,” I tell her. “Mal is family.” I walk around the bed to clean up the Jell-O. “We’ll finish our game another time, okay?”
She nods.
“I’m off after rounds, so I’ll see you tomorrow, Elizabeth. Thanks again, Mal.”
“Anytime,” she says.
I walk out the door and stand there for a minute, eavesdropping.
“My brother-in-law is a pretty great doctor, don’t you think?” Mallory asks.
“He is,” Elizabeth says. “He’s a lot nicer than most doctors I’ve met.”
“He’s a lot nicer than most people,” Mal says. “You won’t find a better breed than the Stone brothers. Then again, I may be a bit biased. So how far along are you?”
I leave them to their conversation, walking down the hall with a huge smile on my face, realizing just how much better I feel leaving her room than when I first entered it.
Chapter Eleven
“Sorry I bailed on you the other day. Would have been nice to play ball with the guys.”
“Not a problem,” Chad says, taking a bite of his dinner. “It’s what you signed up for. It’s not like it hasn’t happened a thousand times before with Mom and Dad.”
I nod, laughing. Many dinners, soccer matches, and family outings were interrupted due to my parents’ chosen careers. They are both doctors. I know they like to think they influenced me to follow in their footsteps, but the truth is, I’d have become a doctor anyway. I think I was born for it. There was never even a choice in the matter.
Mallory starts to get up from the table. “You need a refill,” she says, nodding to my empty wine glass.
I put my hand on her arm to stop her. “Stay put, Mal. I’ll get it.”
“Thanks,” she says, rubbing her growing belly.
“So, how long are you in town for this time?” I ask Chad.
“Well, since Defcon Three is pretty much wrapped up, I’ll only need to head back to L.A. for some voice-overs and promo spots. Dark Tunnels won’t be released until after the baby comes, so that means press junkets won’t start until early next year. And filming for Out of the Deep starts in the spring.”
He puts a hand on Mal’s pregnant belly. “All in all, I don’t think we could have timed this better.”
“You’re forgetting how we’ll need to go to L.A. to collect your Golden Globe and your Oscar,” Mal adds.
Chad smirks at her. “Yeah, right.”
“That’s no joke, bro,” I tell him. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
My uber-famous brother, who was going to be a school teacher like his wife, was randomly discovered while saving my ass at a shopping mall shortly after our parents moved us to L.A. It was tough on Chad, leaving Mallory, who was his best friend; which is why when the opportunity presented itself, he turned to drugs. And women. And gambling. Pretty much anything to distract him from the girl he’d left behind. But in the end, they found each other. And they’ve never been happier than they are right now.
I can’t help but think of Elizabeth and how she asked if I believed in fate.
As if reading my thoughts, Mallory says, “I really like Elizabeth.”
“Yeah. She’s one tough chick,” I say. “I can’t begin to thank you enough for going by the hospital.”
“I hope I didn’t offend her by bringing her a few things.”
I remember the bags she showed up with. “The bags were for her?” I ask.
She nods. “When you told me she literally had nothing and no one, I had to ask myself if I were in that situation, what would I need. And since your generous mother keeps sending me maternity clothes that I will never be able to wear due to the sheer numbers of them, I thought I’d take a few things to her.”
“You brought her clothes?”
“It was just a few nightgowns and a cute pajama set. And a robe. Everyone in the hospital needs a robe. Those blue hospital gowns are simply hideous.”
I laugh, thinking Elizabeth looked quite good in them. Blue is definitely her color.
“Oh, and I took her some packs of maternity underwear. She probably thinks I’m a freak, showing up at a stranger’s hospital room with underwear.”
“Either that or a Godsend,” I say in appreciation. “What did you guys talk about?”
She smiles and gives Chad a look. “Are you asking me if we talked about you, Kyle?”
“No, of course not.” I take a drink of wine to mask my blatant lie.
She laughs. “I’m only teasing,” she says. “The girl is pretty tight-lipped and I got the feeling she didn’t want me to ask about her. We mostly talked about being pregnant. And she asked a lot of questions about me and how I like being a school teacher. She seemed really interested in it, almost sad in a way, like maybe it’s something she had wanted for herself.”
“She walks dogs,” I tell them. “For her job.”
“Yeah, she did tell me that, rather hesitantly,” she says. “But, hey, don’t think less of her for it. People love their pets. They pay a pretty penny to have them walked. She’s probably not as destitute as you’re thinking.”
“I don’t think less of her,” I say, defensively. “But I’m not sure about the destitute part. I mean, she wouldn’t even give us her address when she was admitted to the hospital.”
“You’re a doctor, Kyle,” Mallory says. “She was probably embarrassed to reveal where she lives, knowing the doctors and nurses surrounding her live a far better life.”
“Maybe,” I say. “Or maybe she doesn’t have a home. Or she could live in a shelter.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I mean, I work with homeless girls at Hope For Life. No, Elizabeth just seems like one of us. Heck, she’d probably fit right in at girls’ night.” Her face breaks out in a slow, growing smile. “Oh, Kyle, I have a great idea. I’m sure the girls would love to help her out. Think about it, we can all take turns visiting her. Between all of us, there is no way she’ll get bored or depressed, or whatever bedridden patients get.”
I study my altruistic sister-in-law. “You think they’d really do that for her?”
“Have you met any of them, dude?” Chad asks, raising his eyebrows at me.
“I don’t know,” I tell her. “Elizabeth seems like a private person.”
“Maybe that’s just because she doesn’t have anyone, Kyle.”
I nod in agreement. “Let me see how she felt about your coming in today. I don’t want to overstep my bounds. I’ll let you know what I think.”
Mallory bounces in her seat as much as a pregnant woman can bounce. She claps her hands giddily. “Oh, good. I’m going to call the girls. It’ll be fun.”
“She’s not a project, Mal. She’s a person.”
She shoots me a distasteful look. “Of course she’s not a project,” she says abhorrently. “Kyle, you’ve always said we’re all just one bad circumstance away from being homeless. Well, maybe we can be her good circumstance. With
all our connections, maybe we can be what helps her turn her life around.”
“Alright,” I say. “I’ll talk to her.”
Chad’s phone rings. He looks down at it. “It’s Dad,” he says. He swipes his finger across the screen. “Hi, Dad, you’re on speaker. Mal and Kyle are here.”
“Hello, everyone,” he says. “How’s my granddaughter doing in there, Mallory?”
“She’s doing very well, Marc, thanks for asking,” Mal replies. “Please thank Jackie again for sending another care package.”
“She loves doing it, Mallory. So, how are my boys?”
“Good,” Chad says.
“Can’t complain,” I add.
“Except that you do,” Chad says.
“What?” I ask.
“Oh, come on, you nearly made my ears go numb with all the bitching you did about your new attending,” he says.
“What’s this?” Dad asks. “You having trouble with one of your attendings, son?”
I shoot Chad a look of death. He doesn’t need to be bringing this shit up with our dad. “No, sir. No problems at all.”
Chad blows out something that sounds like, “Pfffffft.”
“You need to learn to get along with your attendings, Kyle,” Dad says. “Not all of them will share your ‘save the world’ philosophy.”
“I know, Dad. And I do get along with them for the most part. But this one didn’t even give me a chance.”
“What’s his name?” he asks. “Maybe I know him.”
I sigh. “It’s not a him,” I say. “I started my OB rotation this week. I’m working under Dr. Redman. She decided on day one to put me on scut. She assigned me one patient, Dad. One. Then she has me running around doing menial crap that interns should be doing, not second-years. Oh, hey, but I did get to deliver a baby the other night. Solo.”
I don’t tell him about the second one I delivered just this morning.
When I stop talking, I realize Dad is laughing on the other end of the phone.
“Dad?”
“Huh? Oh, sorry. I think that’s great, son. Your first solo delivery. Fantastic. Being in emergency medicine, I’m sure it’s just the first of many you’ll have over your career.” He clears his throat. “And, Kyle, I’m pretty sure Dr. Redman’s aversion to you is not your fault.”
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