At the mention of her name, the little pooch growled from her position in the corner. Chester was curled up next to her like the true love he was.
“Never mind. I think these two lovebirds could use some time alone.”
“Then what are we waiting for? Every minute counts,” Toots said.
Sophie, Ida, Mavis, Goebel and Toots scrambled away like ants at a picnic. Fifteen minutes later, and after a half dozen hugs to and from Abby, they were on their way to Los Angeles International Airport.
Once again, Toots was needed at home.
Chapter 22
Toots had shared a few much-needed minutes alone with Chris when they arrived at LAX, enough to learn what had happened between him and Laura. Nothing. She smiled. Abby had nothing to worry about. Chris explained a few other things to her as well. Yes, it was going to turn out much better than she’d dared to hope for.
Since Toots and her friends spent most of the night awake, waiting for news of Chris, they all slept for most of the flight to Charleston, waking up only when the copilot announced they were half an hour from landing at Mount Pleasant Regional, a small airport that handled private aircraft in the Charleston area.
Toots looked at her watch. It would be early evening, Eastern Standard Time, when she arrived in Charleston, and even later when getting to the hospital. She had called Pete before they took off from Los Angeles, and he’d offered to pick them up at the airport and drive them directly to the hospital. She accepted his offer.
Jamie had used Toots’s Range Rover to drive to the hospital, so that left Pete with her Lincoln. Between the two vehicles, they would manage to get to and from the hospital and wherever else was necessary. Dr. Lowery had assured her he would take care of his own transportation when he arrived in Charleston.
Toots had a few reservations about the doctor’s almost instantaneous willingness to take Bernice on as a patient, sight unseen. Of course there was the $5 million she’d promised for the cardiac wing. Money spoke quite loudly sometimes, and she was grateful she had plenty to spread around. She would use it any way she could for her friends and family. It all came down to love.
Their arrival in Mount Pleasant was greeted with none of the pomp and circumstance of their recent trip to Sacramento, when Sophie had met with California’s first lady. Toots peered out the cabin window and spied Pete waiting with the Lincoln just outside Atlantic Aviation, a small general aviation facility.
The automatic stairs were barely down before Toots sprang out of the small jet onto the tarmac. With only small carry-on baggage, none of them had to worry about waiting for luggage. All except Goebel had plenty of clothes and necessities at Toots’s home in Charleston. He’d packed lightly for his trip from New York to California, so it was simply a matter of taking his small luggage from one place to the next.
Toots gave the pilot and copilot each a thousand dollars in cash. She wanted to make sure, when and if she needed their services again, they would remember her. Thankful that she kept a few thousand in cash stuffed in her pajama drawer at all times, she’d found two bank deposit envelopes in her purse, putting enough cash in for the pilots to at least have a nice weekend getaway in the near future.
“I can’t thank you guys enough,” she said as she placed the envelopes in their hands. “I don’t think Ida left any claw marks on the armrests. If she did, let me know, and I’ll take care of the repairs,” she joked.
“Anytime. You have our card,” the pilot said. “Take care, and I hope your friend does well.”
Toots nodded, then headed to the small airport terminal. Pete was as antsy as ever.
Not bothering with the usual niceties, Toots asked, “Have you heard anything from the hospital?”
“Dr. Pauley is there now. They did a heart catheterization as soon as they got her stabilized. She’s in recovery now. I’m not too sure what happens next. I just know she’ll be glad you’re here.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else, Pete. Now come on, we’re wasting time. Let’s get to the hospital. I want to be there when Bernice wakes up.”
Without further ado, Pete helped put their carry-ons in the large trunk, then they crammed themselves into the Lincoln. Toots was glad Mavis and Goebel had downsized weight-wise. If not, they would’ve needed another vehicle.
Less than an hour later, Toots was racing down the halls of Charleston Memorial, following the directions to the cardiac floor given to her by the clerk at the reception desk.
The odors of rubbing alcohol, burnt coffee, and hopelessness permeated the fifth floor, on which they located a small waiting room with a sagging beige sofa, an older model television set suspended from the ceiling, and a table stacked high with heavily thumbed magazines. The room was empty and silent except for the sound of a soda machine humming in the background.
“Stay here while I see Bernice. As soon as I have any news, I’ll be back.” Toots quickly left Sophie, Ida, Mavis, and Goebel in the waiting room reserved for friends and family members only, or so the handwritten note taped to the door read. She hurried back down the long hall, where she followed a large black-and-white sign that read RECOVERY.
Saying a silent prayer that Bernice would make it through this, Toots was practically jogging down the corridor when she spotted Joe Pauley.
Winded, she called out, “Joe.” As soon as he saw her, he said something to a nurse dressed in light green scrubs, then held his arms out to her. Toots went limp in his embrace. She’d been brave for hours and hours, and now it was all she could do to stand up.
“Hey, old girl, this isn’t like you.” Joe brushed her auburn hair away from her face when she looked up at him. Tears spilled from her eyes.
“No, it’s not.” She sniffed.
Joe pulled a handkerchief from his shirt pocket, something she rarely saw.
Blotting her eyes and blowing her nose, she went through her shoulders-back, chin-up routine before speaking. “Okay, give it to me straight. No sugarcoating. Is she going to live?” She hated being so forward, but time was important. Bernice’s life was at stake.
“I just spoke with Dr. Becker, he’s the on-staff cardiologist and a damned good one. Bernice has five clogged arteries, and needs bypass surgery as soon as an operating room is available.”
Toots’s heart plunged; her stomach felt like a million butterflies were at war with one another. “Oh Joe, this is not good. Bernice isn’t going to like this one little bit.” Toots’s voice was full of sadness. “She hates going to the doctor. She must be scared out of her mind. Can I see her? I need to reassure her, let her know I’m here and that everything is going to be just fine. Because it will be just fine. I hired Evangelista Thackeray’s cardiac surgeon to assist or do whatever needs to be done.” Toots ran a shaky hand through her hair, gluing the red-orange tendrils to her cheeks from her tears.
“I’d heard, though I don’t know why. Dr. Becker is top-notch, Harvard Medical, worked with Robert Jarvik back in his early days.”
“And that means?”
“Robert Jarvik, artificial heart.”
“Oh, that’s impressive. In case Dr. Lowery doesn’t work out,” Toots said, then thought how silly she must’ve sounded.
A squeaking sound from the opposite end of the hall caused Toots to turn away from Joe. A tall man wearing light blue scrubs with bright red Crocs waved at them.
“That’s Phil Becker,” Joe told Toots. “Must have some news.”
He’s in his mid- to late sixties, she thought as she observed him. Tall and lean, with a thick head of curly brown hair, a masculine jaw revealed a five o’clock shadow. Dark circles rimmed his electric blue eyes. He looks like a doctor, she thought, but he doesn’t wear glasses. That bugged her. What kind of doctor, especially a heart surgeon, didn’t wear glasses? Didn’t they do all sorts of intricate stuff with tiny veins and even tinier needles?
“Joe,” Dr. Becker said, holding out his hand.
“Phil, this is Theresa Loudenberry. Bernice is her housekeeper,�
�� Joe said by way of introduction.
Toots shook his hand. A shock of electricity shot up her arm. It felt like she’d stuck her fingers in an electrical socket. Quickly pulling her hand away, she watched him. He seemed puzzled. “Ah yes. Joe has been singing your praises for a very long time. It’s good to finally meet you.” Dr. Becker smiled.
And when he smiled, Toots’s heart lurched. Shit! Maybe she had heart trouble now. No, she didn’t. She had ... nothing. She was there to find out what she and modern medicine could do to extend Bernice’s life.
“How is Bernice? Can I see her yet?” Toots asked, her words all rushed together like a two-year-old’s.
“She’s in recovery now. She was pretty much out of it when I checked on her a few minutes ago. She should be waking up soon, and you can see her then. Anesthesia affects everyone differently.”
“Exactly what does that mean?”
“Toots, don’t start. I know you like being in control and running the show, but now isn’t the time,” Joe said, before turning to Phil. “Is there an operating room available yet?”
“That’s one of the reasons I’m still here. They’re finishing up a transplant in Operating Room C. As soon as it’s ready, I want to get Bernice in there, repair those arteries. Her vitals are all good, and she appears to be in good health otherwise,” Dr. Becker said, then turned to face Toots. “You want to go downstairs and have a cup of coffee with me?”
Toots placed her hand on her chest. “Are you talking to me? You want me to have coffee? And you think Bernice is in good health? Son of a—”
“Toots! Enough already! Bernice is in good hands. Calm down. I think we all could use a cup of coffee. It’s going to be a long night,” Joe said.
Toots didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. She was in the middle of yet another crisis, and this heart surgeon, who was about to cut open Bernice’s heart, wanted to know if she wanted to have coffee with him! What kind of surgeon had coffee before performing open-heart surgery?
“Where exactly is Dr. Lowery? I am donating a hefty sum of money to his cardiac unit. You would think he would have had enough time to scrub up, or whatever it is he should be doing.” Her hands shook, and she wanted a cigarette so badly she was ready to sneak inside the ladies’ room and risk causing the fire alarms to go off. She grabbed her left hand with her right to prevent herself from snatching the Marlboros from her purse.
Joe cupped Toots’s elbow and steered her away from the recovery room. “I’ll have him paged.” He stopped and spoke to a young woman at the nurses’ station. Within seconds, Dr. Lowery’s name was called over the hospital’s paging system.
“Thanks,” Toots said. “I guess I am a little flustered. I’d kill for a cigarette right now.”
Joe leaned over and whispered into her ear, “Don’t let Phil Becker hear you say that. He’ll ream you out like a high school kid. He hates smokers.”
She glanced over her shoulder. Dr. Becker was right behind her. He smiled when he saw her. “He’s right. I hate smokers.”
“Then you certainly won’t like me. I try to smoke at least two packs a day. Three if I’m bored.” A slight smile brightened her face.
“Then I can almost guarantee you’ll wind up on my or some other doctor’s operating table before too long,” Dr. Becker said pleasantly.
If Toots hadn’t heard the humor in his voice, she would have told him to kiss off, but he was teasing her. Part of her appreciated his attempt to humor her, and another part of her, the part that worried about poor Bernice, thought him crass and arrogant for even trying to show he had a sense of humor.
“Don’t hold your breath,” Toots said dryly. At the end of the hall was the waiting room. She stopped just outside the door and turned to Joe. “You’re not leaving yet, are you?”
“No, I’m here for the long haul. Bernice is my patient, too. I’ll be observing the surgery.” He paused as though considering his next words. “I would never try to tell you what to do, but Lowery hasn’t answered his page, hasn’t made an attempt to let anyone know he is here and ready for surgery. Between you and me, I’d forget about him and let Phil do the surgery.”
Toots listened to his advice, watched Dr. Becker step inside the waiting room and introduce himself to the others. She heard him tell Sophie that Bernice was still in the recovery room.
“I want the best for Bernice. Dr. Lowery is the best.”
“Says who? Evangelista Thackeray? Hardly. She isn’t alive, remember? Who else recommended him?”
Toots had to think. She was sure she’d heard his name mentioned before, just couldn’t recall where. “I don’t know, Joe. I just know he’s the head of cardiology at Cedars-Sinai. Doesn’t that speak for itself?”
Joe shook his head. “You do like that Hollywood stuff, I’ll give you that. But remember, it’s really not your decision to make. As soon as Bernice comes out of the anesthesia, she’ll make that choice. It’ll save face if anything.”
Toots wrinkled her brow in disgust. “I don’t care about saving face! You of all people should know that. I just want Bernice to have a chance, that’s all.”
“Trust me, Toots. She will get the best care possible. We might not have the reputation that Cedars-Sinai has, but we’re good. Phil is good. Why don’t you let Bernice make the decision? After all, it is her life,” Joe cajoled.
Taking a deep breath, Toots nodded. “True, but what am I supposed to tell Dr. Lowery? He did drop everything to fly out here. Not many doctors do that anymore.”
“To the tune of five million dollars, I would fly across the country, too. Damn, Toots. Where is all that vaunted common sense of yours?”
In the pit of my stomach, she thought.
Maybe Joe was right. Maybe Dr. Phil Becker was as good as, if not better than, the absent Dr. Lowery. At least he was there, and that alone was one point in his favor. Anyway, Joe was right. It was not her decision. Why had she assumed Bernice would want some big-shot Hollywood doctor? She didn’t know what she’d been thinking. Bernice needed a local doctor, someone in for the long haul.
What had she been thinking?
“As much as I hate to admit it, you’re right. I was thinking of myself, I guess—the best, top-notch, all that money could buy.” Suddenly Toots was ashamed of herself. Money did not buy happiness, nor could it save Bernice’s life. Yes, she would see that Bernice had the best medical care, but in all of the tension, Toots had lost her common sense. Dr. Lowery would get his donation. She was a woman of her word, but he didn’t have to operate on Bernice to receive it.
Another nurse, one wearing teal green scrubs with teddy bears all over them, came racing to the waiting room. “Dr. Pauley, your patient in recovery is asking for you. She’s awake and doesn’t seem very happy to be here.”
“Thanks, Karen. I’ll be right there.” Joe entered the waiting room, said hello to everyone, then asked Dr. Becker to step outside. Toots remained in the waiting room, allowing the two professionals a few minutes alone so they could discuss Bernice’s case in private. Besides, she didn’t need to hear all the medical mumbo jumbo to know that her dear friend was in trouble, big-time. She was frightened enough as it was.
Sophie looked dog tired. Mavis’s hair had flattened from the humidity, and Ida still had the hot pink hair. Her eye makeup was smeared, and she really looked like she was on her last mile. Goebel looked a bit rumpled, but his eyes were bright, and he seemed more alert than ever. Those few hours of rest on the plane had made a big difference for him. Toots remembered that he’d been a cop for more than thirty years. He was probably used to grabbing what sleep he could on the run.
“Why don’t you all have Pete take you to the house? Jamie is here somewhere, and she can take me home later.”
Pete had remained downstairs—told her he didn’t want to get in the way. Toots knew better. Good old Pete was afraid of hospitals and doctors. Just like Bernice. She smiled. Southerners did have their share of superstitions.
“I’ll stay
here with you,” Sophie said. “I’m not even tired.”
Toots knew Sophie was lying, but she needed her. “Thanks, Soph. I’d like that.”
Ida and Mavis looked relieved, but Toots knew they would stay if she had asked them to. And Goebel, too.
“Maybe you could have Pete run to the grocery store? When Bernice gets home, she’ll need all that healthy food Mavis and Goebel are crazy about. You could get some fresh vegetables, toss all that red meat she keeps in the freezer.” Toots wanted to send them away, but didn’t want them to feel as though she didn’t need them. She did need them. All of them. Now more than ever. And that’s when she thought of Abby.
“My gosh, I haven’t called Abby! I promised her I would!” She took her cell phone out of her purse and was about to punch in her daughter’s number when Mavis stopped her.
“I called her, told her there was no news. Said I would call her when we knew something definite,” Mavis explained.
“Thanks. I don’t know where my mind is.”
“You’re worried about Bernice,” Ida said. “You’ve spent the past week worrying about Chris. You need a break, that’s all. Maybe when we know more about Bernice’s condition, you and I can find a hairdresser, someone who can fix this”—Ida lifted a hand to her head of hot pink hair—“stuff.”
They all smiled.
“I’ll do that,” Toots said. “Now, Pete is waiting downstairs. I promise that Sophie or I will call as soon as we have news.”
After they said their good-byes, Sophie and Toots followed Joe and Dr. Becker to the recovery room. Sophie looked at Dr. Becker, and lifted her eyes in question.
Toots rolled her eyes, and mouthed Kiss my ass.
Sophie slid her hand to her shoulder, her middle finger prominently displayed for Toots alone to see.
They both laughed.
It was going to take a sense of humor and a lot of prayers to get through the next few days.
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