One More Dance

by Roxanne Rustand

  A monitor beeped and blinked, its glowing green lines tracing the rhythm of his heart.

  Kate dealt with emergencies every day. She performed complex surgeries with a high degree of success and far less support staff than surgeons had in a hospital. But seeing Jared here, surrounded by tense staff and a jumble of high-tech hospital equipment, made her feel faint.

  She couldn’t stifle her sharp cry when the nurse shifted the monitor and its screen came into view.

  His pulse was racing, the rhythm irregular.

  His oxygen stats were dropping.

  He was in shock, and he was getting worse by the second.

  The orderlies angled the gurney toward the door and pulled it forward, with the nurse managing the portable electronic equipment and IV stands.

  They paused for barely a second in front of Kate, though she could sense their tension.

  His face was ashen, with a laceration from cheekbone to jaw, and white bandaging covered his forehead and hair. With every fiber of her being she wanted to hold him. Tell him all the things she should have said long ago. But the grim faces of the staff told her that every moment was critical.

  She brushed a kiss against his cheek. “I love you, Jared,” she whispered. “I’ll be waiting for you.” She straightened and watched the gurney rattle away toward the elevator at the far end of the ER, taking with it a big piece of her heart.

  “We’ll follow,” Ralph said, clasping her arm and guiding her to a different elevator. Once inside he rested his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Look, I know this is really hard. But I promise you, he’s in the best possible hands. Dr. Jacobs spends the school year teaching thoracic surgery out East, but during the summer he lives here. If anyone can pull off a miracle, it’s him, and he should arrive any minute.”

  The elevator door slid silently open at the second floor. Ahead, wide double doors labeled Restricted Access were just swinging shut. To the left, a tall, gaunt man in surgical scrubs—probably the anesthesiologist—stood by a door marked Family Lounge, holding a clipboard. He and Ralph exchanged glances, then he eyed Kate with sympathy.

  Overhead, a loud speaker crackled, then blared, Code Blue! Code Blue! Thirty-four, East Wing. Thirty-four, East Wing.

  A white-faced young nurse burst through the double doors. “He’s seizing. Hurry!”

  The anesthesiologist and Ralph disappeared into the OR. Other hospital staff seemed to appear out of nowhere, all racing in the same direction.

  The room seemed to fill with glaring light, then went dim at the edges...until Kate remembered to breathe. Jared wouldn’t even make it onto the surgical table. He was going to die.

  The enormity of this moment, of her overwhelming loss and regret and grief, hit with the force of a freight train. She sank against the wall to the floor and bowed her head.

  And began to pray.

  CHAPTER THREE

  PRESENT DAY

  Sylvia Mathers brushed an imaginary bit of dust from her classic black Yves Saint Laurent coatdress, fixed a haughty smile on her face and strolled into the restaurant, well aware that she radiated Old Money to those seated at the tables.

  As well she should.

  The décolleté V of the lapels framed a string of perfect, creamy pearls inherited from Ellsworth’s mother, and the vintage couture dress itself was a wise purchase made decades ago that would never go out of style. She hadn’t dared tell Ellsworth about this particular price tag—though back then, money had been of little consequence and image had been everything.

  Image and political alliances and the illusion of class that had lured even more benefactors into her late husband’s fold during his political campaigns.

  Not bad for a barefoot girl born to dirt-poor Oklahoma farmers who’d had too many kids, too many bills, and little regard for education.

  She’d been the first to break the mold. After scrabbling her way through college, she’d made sure she found the right jobs, where she could meet the right people. Now, very few remembered that she’d ever been the young, sexy executive secretary in Senator Mathers’s office who had helped end his first marriage, because she’d carefully cut those unfortunate little complications from her address book the day after her own marriage to Ellsworth.

  Nanette Laughton set aside her water glass and lifted a brow at Sylvia’s approach. “My, you’re early, dear.”

  “A rare thing, I know. I went to the health club first, then the standing appointment with my hairdresser. Georgio was right on schedule today.”

  Sylvia settled into a ruby velvet chair opposite her friend, miffed at Nanette’s choice of position at the table. Early-evening sunlight filtered through the curtains at her friend’s back, highlighting her platinum blond hair and casting her face in subdued, ambient lighting.

  Sylvia, facing the low angle of the sun, knew it accented every wrinkle and line on her own face. She usually took great care to avoid direct and unflattering lighting. “I’m so glad we were able to meet here for dinner. I haven’t been to Stillwater in years.”

  “And it is such a lovely drive over here from the Twin Cities. We should do this more often.”

  After the waitress took their orders, Nanette leaned a little closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “You’re lovelier than ever, by the way. I just knew Dr. Falk would do a wonderful job for you.” She touched a fingertip to the smooth outside corner of her eye. “I know I couldn’t have been happier.”

  Sylvia managed a faint smile, though her stomach twisted into a nervous knot as she thought about the money she’d spent and the stock she’d had to sell off last month.

  Life was still all about packaging, really...keeping up appearances, contacts, and the impression that all was well, even though the family’s software company had gone belly-up years ago amidst allegations of upper-level corruption and mismanagement. Downturns in the stock market had decimated what was left. The senator had died soon afterward while under a cloud of suspicion about his personal life.

  He’d certainly chosen an unfortunate time to die, given the family’s financial disaster and the fact that Jared had just started college.

  But now, with her daughter Julia left to marry off, Sylvia had a last chance to make the right connections for one of her children.

  Sylvia had counted on Jared. Tutored him. Worked at carefully managing the right introductions so he could marry well after earning his law degree, and provide his mother and sister with the elegant, comfortable lifestyle they deserved.

  Sylvia’s modest stock portfolio and rigid attention to the market had kept them afloat, but Jared had made a grave mistake in his choice of wife, and even now—twenty years

  later—his selfishness burned.

  Maybe his tacky little wife had lured him into an unfortunate marriage all those years ago. But with Julia, Sylvia wasn’t going to let anything go wrong.

  Nanette took a delicate sip of her raspberry iced tea. “And how is your daughter?”

  “She’s still out East, but she’s nearly done with her thesis. After that, well...” Sylvia made a graceful, offhand motion with her fingertips, carefully dismissing the years Julia had spent trying to “find herself” in college. “She’s still thinking about medical school or a Ph.D. in biology. And your son?”

  “Robert is still leaning toward family practice.” Nanette shook her head, obviously distressed. “I keep telling him that plastic surgery is the way to go, with all the baby boomers sliding into old age, but he says he’d rather work with the disadvantaged. Can you imagine? I’m sure he’ll come to his senses, though...once he finds the right woman and settles down. He has no idea how much it costs to raise a family these days.”

  The perfect opening.

  “So true. Those responsibilities do bring things into focus.” Sylvia idly toyed with a mandarin orange in her salad. “Our children seem so alike.”

  “Perhaps we can try arranging another meeting. They seemed to like each other rather well at the club on the F
ourth of July.”

  The Laughtons were an old, moneyed family, with a sprawling estate on Lake Minnetonka and a palatial home on a cliff overlooking Lake Superior. The possible connection was definitely enticing.

  Sylvia imagined Robert and Julia living on an equally grand estate with a pleasant little mother-in-law cottage, and then urging Sylvia to move there. The vision filled her with a sense of warmth and security she hadn’t felt in a long time. “That would be lovely. I can just imagine—”

  From inside Sylvia’s vintage Gucci handbag came the soft trill of her cell phone. She swiftly reached into the bag, glanced at the caller ID on the screen and pressed a side button to mute the ring, irritated at the interruption. Whatever Kate had to say, she could certainly leave it as voicemail.

  Sylvia had noticed three other messages when she walked out of the salon—calls she’d missed due to the constant chatter and the noise of hair dryers. She’d simply have to catch up on all of them later.

  Nothing was as important as this conversation with her friend.

  “Sorry. As I was saying, just imagine our two together.” Sylvia gave Nanette a conspiratorial smile. “Wouldn’t Robert and Julia give us the most adorable grandchildren?”

  THE VISION OF JARED’S ashen, damaged face kept crowding into Kate’s thoughts as she sat curled up at one end of a couch in the waiting area by the operating room. The television was blaring in the corner, but she had no idea what the newscasters were saying.

  The longing to touch Jared, to talk to him, welled up inside her, her emotions swinging between hope and fear as she fought to stay in control.

  Two other families had filed in, settled down to wait, then left—one overjoyed, the other overwhelmed with sorrow. And still, there’d been no word about Jared since the anesthesiologist had come out with his release forms.

  Jared had suffered that second cardiac arrest just inside the OR, but he’d rallied and had now been in surgery for almost an hour. An hour that seemed like a lifetime, marked by the inexorable ticking of the second hand on the clock.

  Tick.

  Tick.

  Tick.

  Kate’s fingers itched, flexing involuntarily as she imagined holding the same surgical instruments. She remembered the broken hips and backs and legs she’d operated on—snaking rods up through the marrow on femurs and tibiae; using screws and pins and wires to draw fractured shards together into a solid, functional structure.

  But it was her husband on the other side of those double doors...the father of her daughter, the man who’d been a part of her life all these years. It was still almost impossible to wrap her mind around the thought that any moment could be his last, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  “Dr. Mathers?”

  She swallowed hard against the fear rising in her throat and looked up to see a somber chaplain with an equally grim-faced nurse at his side. Her heart stuttered. “Jared—”

  “Oh, my dear,” the elderly gentleman said quickly. “We didn’t come with bad news. As far as we know, he’s still weathering surgery very well. How are you holding up through all of this?”

  Kate looked down at her knotted hands and willed herself to relax. “I wish our daughter was here...I haven’t heard a word from her yet. Has anyone been able to reach Jared’s mother or sister?”

  “We’ve left several messages for his mother, but we did reach his sister, Julia,” the nurse told her. She pulled a slip of paper from her pocket. “The receptionist in the ER took a message from a friend of yours. Deanna, is it?” She unfolded the note. “Your daughter’s plane was held up due to bad weather, so she missed her connection from Minneapolis to Madison. The next open seats wouldn’t get her to Madison until late tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Oh, no,” Kate breathed. She imagined Casey trying to find a shuttle to a hotel or simply camping out in the airport for the night. Either way she was all alone, a young college student who felt independent but who would always be Kate’s baby. She’d be so devastated if she didn’t have a chance to say goodbye to her dad...

  The staggering thought blindsided Kate, sending a gut-deep wave of grief rushing through her.

  “But your friend and her husband are already driving to Minneapolis to get her,” the nurse continued. “They figure they’ll make it back here by early morning.” She handed over the note, the handwriting nearly illegible. “I thought I’d better decode Marie’s handwriting for you.”

  When the nurse’s voice finally registered, Kate sagged against the back of her chair in relief. “Thank God.”

  The two staff members exchanged awkward glances, then pulled up a couple of chairs to face Kate’s and sat down.

  The chaplain’s brow furrowed as he reached out to take her hand. “There’s something else, dear. The sheriff wants to talk to you, but we asked him to wait until after your husband is out of surgery.”

  “Why? He wants to deliver a ticket?”

  “It’s regarding the other person in your husband’s car.”

  “Who?”

  “The deceased.”

  “What?”

  “You didn’t know?” The chaplain frowned and looked at the nurse, but she lifted a shoulder and shook her head in response. “I’m so very sorry if this person was a friend or relative, Dr. Mathers.”

  “Someone was with him?” Kate thought back to when she’d called the law office, after Jared didn’t answer his cell.

  Tom had said Jared was on his way north to a meeting, so Tom couldn’t have been in the car, and their legal secretary was on a Canadian fishing vacation this week. There’d been no mention of anyone else.

  And Jared had been found on a road going south out of town, not north.

  “Your husband was extricated just in time, but the other person was badly tangled in the wreckage and was dead at the scene. The EMTs and officers weren’t able to remove the body fast enough, and it was badly burned.”

  Kate’s stomach roiled at the thought. That could have happened to Jared, too. Guilt followed her flash of relief. Her husband had been spared, but another family would be facing a terrible loss.

  “She appeared to be a young woman,” the chaplain continued. “Slender. The investigators will need to use dental records for a positive identification, but it would save them time if you knew who she might be.”

  Young. Slender.

  The old, nagging uncertainty, dormant for so many years, flared to life. The late nights...the working weekends... Did this add up to a situation she’d never imagined facing again?

  But just as quickly, Kate tried to extinguish her doubts.

  “I...really have no idea who she is. Call Tom Williams, my husband’s law partner.” She rattled off Tom’s cell phone number. “She was probably a client.”

  The chaplain jotted down the number. “I’m sure that must be the case,” he murmured. He handed the slip of paper to the nurse, who then left the room. “I hope that’s all the sheriff needs. If not, he may be calling on you later.”

  “Of course.” Kate eyed the clock, willing the minute hand to move faster. Saying yet another silent prayer for Jared and the surgeons who were working to save his life. She tried to imagine what was happening right now, wishing desperately that someone would come out to tell her.

  “I’ll be glad to sit with you for a while.” The chaplain’s soft voice broke through her thoughts. “This isn’t a time to be alone.”

  His sad eyes and drooping jowls reminded her of a geriatric basset, and the weariness in his voice spoke of too many hours at the hospital as it was.

  “You must have been here on overtime today, and I’m fine. Really.” She dredged up a smile. “I’ll try my mother-in-law’s phone every few minutes, and I know she’ll be here with me as soon as she hears the news.”

  “Well...”

  “Please, do go. Honestly, the solitude is peaceful.”

  The old man led her in a prayer for Jared and his loved ones, then rose and clasped her hands in his. “If anythi
ng changes, have a nurse call me. I can be back in fifteen minutes.”

  If anything changes.

  Translated... If your husband dies. The enormity of it settled over her like a heavy mantle, making it hard to breathe.

  “Thanks so much.” She nodded in farewell, slumping back in her chair after he left. She sat for a moment, then jumped to her feet and started to pace back and forth in the waiting room. Down the hall to the elevators, then back again, trying to settle the jitters in her stomach.

  Every time she saw a nurse in the hallway she froze, half-afraid the person was coming to deliver bad news.

  And every few minutes, she tried speed-dialing Jared’s mother.

  At nine forty-five, Sylvia finally picked up with a terse, “Yes?”

  Her irritable response changed to stunned silence, then near-hysterical tears when Kate gently explained the situation.

  “I was just heading back to the Twin Cities from Stillwater.” Sylvia’s voice shook. “I’ll turn around at the next exit.”

  “You’re almost three hours away. It’s late. Is there anyone you can call to come with you?”

  “I—I don’t think so. But I can get there just a little after midnight if I push the speed limit. Call me if anything changes... And if you hear any news at all about his condition, I want to know it.”

  “Sylvia—”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The connection ended.

  Kate stared at her phone for a moment, Sylvia’s tense voice still ringing in her ear, then she pocketed the phone and resumed her pacing.

  “Dr. Mathers?” A deep baritone voice reverberated down the hall.

  “That’s me.” She spun around to find a man in surgical scrubs, a mask dangling from his neck, standing just outside the double doors of the operating room. She hurried over to him. “Tell me—how is Jared doing?”

  “We’re still trying to repair the damage to Jared’s chest and liver. There’s far more than we could see on the MRI, and we haven’t been able to stop the internal bleeding thus far.” The man’s deeply lined face revealed no glimmer of optimism. “He’s coded twice already, and the situation is grave. I’m so sorry.”