“The papers?” Jessica interrupted. “What are you talking about?”
“A physician punching a patient while he’s laying on the table in the ER? That same physician getting arrested having sex in a car parked on a prominent citizen’s lawn? Come on, it’s not hard to imagine that a reporter might find that interesting.”
She hadn’t thought of any of that. In actuality, she hadn’t thought about much beyond Ben and the moment all night.
“Don’t let him enjoy himself so damn much away from work. In fact, don’t let him enjoy it at all.”
She felt the need to defend herself to her boss and her siblings, who she had wanted to be a role model for, but her argument sounded weak when she said, “We’ve been having some fun. Mostly harmless fun.”
“Well, knock it off.” Russ wasn’t smiling as he said it. “And act like you want to continue being a nurse in this ER,” Russ said, turning on his heel and heading toward the elevators.
Frustrated with Russ getting the last word, Jessica turned to her sister and brother. Sam looked from one sister to the other and, without a word, headed toward the cafeteria.
Sara, on the other hand, was watching Jessica with undisguised censure.
It was almost funny that Sara disapproved of her. Jessica had spent the past ten years doing absolutely everything she could to be approved of by everyone, especially the little sister who needed a positive female role model.
“You have something you want to say to me?” Jessica propped a hand on either hip.
Sara pressed her lips together, looking very prim and proper. “Not really,” she finally said. “I’m just…”
“What?” Jessica pressed, scowling now.
“Disappointed.”
Jessica stared at her sister, letting the word roll around in her head.
Then she got mad.
“You’re disappointed? Because I’m not perfect after all? What about all of the things I’ve done right, Sara? What about all of the times I did exactly the right thing at the right time? I don’t get credit for any of that?”
Sara looked upset and Jessica had to fight the urge to apologize and tell her everything would be okay. She shouldn’t be sorry. It was all right for her to have a bad day, to show some not-so-pretty emotions, to make a couple of not-quite-responsible choices.
She also didn’t know if everything would be okay and for once she couldn’t bring herself to say the words to make Sara feel better.
Sara crossed her arms. “You’re making choices that are negatively impacting other people. That’s not like you.”
“I’m…” Jessica trailed off, speechless. For one, Sara suddenly sounded just like her. For another, all she’d done for the past ten years was make decisions specifically to make things as good as possible for everyone else, no matter how she felt or what she wanted. This was one night, one instance, and she couldn’t figure out how this was the end of the world.
“How is this affecting you, other than mild embarrassment at being seen with me in this outfit?”
“I wasn’t talking about me. You’re messing things up for Ben!” Sara’s eyes dropped to the toes of Jessica’s boots. “You’re getting him in trouble.”
Jessica was torn. Part of her admired her sister’s blunt honesty. Another part was insulted.
“Is it possible that I’m not to blame?” she asked, defiantly.
Sara’s gaze never faltered, but her cheeks got pink. “Maybe. But no matter what he’s going through, you’re supposed to be the one we can count on. You should be talking him out of…whatever. We need him. We need you to make sure he’s here.”
He was here, all right. But she was feeling torn—she felt more than a little guilty about him being here, yet she was also relieved that Mario was in Ben’s care. “Why do I always have to be the one doing the right thing?” Jessica crossed her arms, feeling hurt and unappreciated. “Why can’t I have some fun for a change?”
“Because!” Sara exclaimed. “That’s what we depend on you for. That’s why Sam called you that first night. It’s obviously why your boss asked you to be the one to watch over Ben. That’s who you are.”
Suddenly Jessica understood Ben. People had decided who she was and now there was no room for error. Just like she felt about Ben. Yes, they’d both worked to be the person everyone else saw, but now they were expected to never falter, to never mess up, to never change.
Changing didn’t have to be bad.
“I’m still me, Sara,” Jessica said wearily. “One night, one mistake, one uncharacteristic act doesn’t change who I am underneath.” Jessica felt like something was trying to make itself clear in her head, but whatever it was had to swim through quite a bit of emotion and fatigue. Why did all of this seem like it should be familiar?
Sara looked at her for a long moment. Then she nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll always be there for you, and for everyone who needs me. I’ll always do my best. I just might not always do it the same way I’ve always done. And I might not always succeed.”
And the realization finally found a clear spot in her brain.
Ben was still him too. He wasn’t in the OR every day, but he was making a difference anyway—at the coffee shop, at the center. He was the man she wanted because of the man he was behind the changeable moods and moments. She wanted the man he would be no matter what.
“I know,” Sara said quietly. “I know I can always depend on you.”
“Thank you,” Jessica said with a huge smile. She leaned in and kissed her sister’s cheek. “I love you, you know.”
Sara looked wary. “I know.”
Jessica tipped her head to one side and regarded the beautiful woman in front of her. “I did a good job with you.”
Sara smiled. Then chuckled. “Thanks. I guess.”
The door to the trauma room burst open just then. Jessica whirled and all levity left the immediate area. Sara stepped closer and took Jessica’s hand as Mario was wheeled out to the elevator. He was deathly pale, a tube in his mouth and down his throat to help him breathe.
Jessica swallowed hard.
He had to live. So she could at least say goodbye.
Ben caught her eyes on the way past. He slowed next to her. “I’ll see you later,” he said.
She nodded. She would be here when he was done in surgery.
“No promises,” he said, low enough for only her to hear. “But I’ll be in there.”
She looked him straight in the eye. “That’s enough.”
He looked like he wanted to kiss her. But of course, he followed the gurney into the elevator.
He was still watching her when the doors slid shut.
Three hours later Jess had a pounding headache from worrying, pacing the hard tile floor in high heels and the after-effects of the longest, most emotional twenty-one hours of her life.
Sara slept against Sam’s shoulder, Sam slept propped up in the corner of the waiting room couch.
Jess paused and looked at her siblings and her heart swelled. Sure, they’d pooped out, but they were here.
And she knew the fact that they were asleep did not reflect on how they felt about Mario. They were worried too. But Jessica was the pro in that area. No little detail like sleep would get in her way.
Sara had finally learned from some of the other center kids that Mario had sustained his injuries fighting. The fight had even been arranged outside of the regular fight-night schedule. Jessica’s heart had broken hearing that. Mario had been the biggest champion of ending the violent competitions. However, the story went on. Mario had developed feelings for Sophie, and vice versa. The father of Sophie’s baby wouldn’t leave her alone and Mario finally asked him what it would take for him to never bother her again. The baby’s father had said he would leave Sophie alone forever if Mario, the reigning fight night champion in spite of not participating for over a year, would fight him…and lose. Mario had agreed for Sophie, sickened that other boy cared more about his reput
ation as a tough guy than he did about his unborn child.
Unfortunately, the fight was not fair. The other boy had brought friends, who jumped in to help him ensure that Mario would not walk out the champion. Or walk out at all.
Mario’s friends had showed up just in time to drag him, unconscious, to the center, where Sara called 9-1-1.
The whole scenario made Jessica want to cry. There was plenty to keep her pacing.
Mario had tried to do what he believed to be honorable, protecting the girl he loved and the baby that wasn’t even his, but at a terrible cost. Mario’s friends were here tonight, more worried about him than they were about getting retribution, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be another night for revenge. Sophie was feeling guilty about dragging Mario into this, and worrying about losing the boy she’d just realized she loved. Sara would have to worry about the fights becoming more personal and potentially coming closer to the center.
And now Jessica had Ben in there to worry about too.
She wondered how he was holding up. Surgery like this was strenuous, even without an emotional attachment to the person on the table.
Ben cared about Mario, knew him, had spent time with him. How much harder was it to concentrate on that surgery without being overwhelmed by the fact that his life was literally in Ben’s hands?
And if Mario died, Ben would blame himself.
It was almost enough to make her go into the surgical suite and pull Ben out, before he could get hurt. She chewed on the thumbnail of her right hand.
Who was she to tell him that he had to keep going into the fight? Who was she to be upset when he said he’d paid his dues?
She should just love the fact that he had a soul that could be touched by his patients and their suffering. She should be overjoyed to find someone who could care so much about a stranger.
Jessica wanted him, whether he was making coffee or saving lives.
Obviously, he wouldn’t walk away when things got tough. He didn’t have to be the one with his hands on Mario. But he was. Because he chose to be. How much more would he be willing to endure for the woman he loved?
She frowned into the fish tank near the windows.
Did he love her? She supposed that was the real question, the one that needed answering before anything else mattered. But no matter what else—she loved him.
“Jess?”
She heard the intense fatigue in his voice before she turned and saw it in his face.
She went to him, her heels clicking against the tile, the only sound in the room besides the hum of the fish tank and the soft snoring from her brother.
“How are you?” she asked.
He looked terrible and her heart ached. She wanted to take him in her arms and hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay. And it broke her heart that she wasn’t sure she could honestly say that. Seeing Ben’s pain was worse than feeling her own and she decided right then that she didn’t want him in medicine—not if it hurt him like this. She didn’t want him to do anything that made him unhappy.
“I’m fine,” he said. He ran a hand over his face. “Mario’s in recovery.”
“How is he?” She grabbed his arm, a bubble of hope rising in her chest.
Ben sighed. “Stable. For now anyway.”
Jess almost couldn’t breathe as emotion constricted her throat.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely.
Ben swallowed hard, then cleared his throat twice. “He won’t be awake for a while.”
“Then let’s go home. To my place.” She wanted to be with him, to take care of him, to try to ease the fatigue and stress from his face. She wanted to tell him how she felt about him.
“No. I’m staying for a while. You go.”
“But…”
“Go, get some sleep. You’ll be a lot better for Mario if you’re rested. I just want to stay until he wakes up.”
He was obviously emotionally and physically drained. But she was in love with him and wanted him to know now.
Jess figured the hospital’s surgical waiting area was probably fitting for the two of them, but she wanted this moment to be a bit more romantic. She’d imagined telling the man of her dreams that she loved him too—because of course she’d imagined him saying it first—with candles and soft music in a restaurant with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline.
But the waiting room with the harsh fluorescent lighting and the smell of disinfectant and coffee would work too, she supposed.
“I was hoping we could talk,” she said.
Ben shook his head. “Not now, Jess.”
“It won’t take long.” Saying the three words wouldn’t anyway, and that was what was most important to her right this minute.
“Jessica,” Ben said firmly. “I am so far from being my best right now that I can’t even explain it. Don’t push. Please.”
If it wasn’t for the please, said with a weary sigh, she might have pushed anyway. Instead she paused and thought about what Ben had just come through. While she’d been out here pacing, face-to-face with her fears and desires and her love, he’d been concentrating on Mario. As he should have been. So he wouldn’t be able to say it back to her right now. That was okay.
Three little words, then she’d let him go.
“Ben, I…”
He took her gently but firmly by the upper arms. “Jessica, don’t. Not now. We’re both emotional and tired. I do not want to talk anymore, at all.”
“But I…”
“Jessica,” he said, exasperated. He looked into her eyes in that way that made her certain he knew every thought in her head.
“Fine,” she said, frustrated, but accepting defeat for the time being. “Can I go see Mario quickly before I leave?”
“I’d rather you went home. It’s hard for me to concentrate with you here.”
She didn’t know if that was a compliment or a concern. She chose to simply agree. “I’ll go home for a few hours.”
Ben lifted his hand and her breath caught as he traced his index finger down her face from her cheek to jaw.
“Sam will take you home?” he asked simply.
She tried to find a smile. “Sara will. Sam’s the first one to stay for Mario. He won in rock, paper, scissors.”
Ben smiled back. Then leaned in and kissed her on the forehead before turning and heading for the doctor’s locker room.
There were no words of when they would talk or see each other again.
Chapter Eleven
The break room was blissfully empty of people and Ben headed straight for the refrigerator, then the short sofa along the wall by the window. He propped his feet on the beat-up coffee table in front of the couch and leaned back, popping the top of his orange juice bottle. He wasn’t nearly as tired as he should be, feeding off of emotion and adrenaline like he was, but he could probably expect a crash at any point.
Out of habit, his brain began replaying the night behind him.
The little boy with the appendicitis was in pre-op right then and the risk for rupture of his appendix was small.
The young couple he’d consulted with had finally been able to leave about five minutes ago. The husband had been using a nail gun and put a nail through his foot. Somehow he’d missed damaging anything major and would be fine in the end.
Two out of three cases he’d worked had turned out. Thank God, that was more usual than not. He didn’t know about Mario yet, but the repair of the laceration to his spleen had gone well. He could very well be three for three. Overall, it had been a good night.
In fact, most nights were good. For every one trauma that turned out badly, at least two, and probably more, turned out well. When had he turned into a person who remembered only the bad stuff?
His pager erupted in his pocket and he jerked upright, pulling it from his waistband in a move so habitual it was like tying his shoes. The readout said post-op. He looked at his watch. It was five-thirty a.m. It was about Mario. It had to be.
/>
Ben headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time to the second floor. He strode down the hall, his lab coat flapping behind him. The scrub pants and shirt he’d changed into after surgery felt so familiar, so comfortable. He’d spent more hours dressed like this than he had any other way since he’d started his residency.
“What?” he asked when he was still several feet from the nurses’ desk.
“Mario Riccio,” Kati, the charge nurse said. “He’s developed some left-sided paralysis, Dr. Torres.” She handed him Mario’s chart.
Ben stared at her. “When?”
“Just now. He’s been in and out, but we finally got him awake enough for assessments. He isn’t able to move his left arm or hand to our commands.”
“What are his vitals?”
“Blood pressure remains low. Temperature is normal. Pulse is weak. He’s also confused and complaining of a headache.”
“Son of a bitch,” Ben muttered. There was more going on. “We need to get him to CT now,” he said to Kati. She nodded and moved to get the order going.
Fifteen minutes later, Ben watched as the scan of Mario’s brain confirmed his fear. There was a slow bleed in Mario’s brain. It explained everything from the headache to the drowsiness and trouble moving his left side.
“Call Steve Borchers,” Ben said, referring to his friend, the best neurosurgeon in the city. Steve would have to consult, but it looked like Mario was going back into the OR. If they didn’t relieve the pressure on his brain, the damage could be irreversible.
He wanted to be relieved. He wasn’t a neurologist or a neurosurgeon. He couldn’t do anything about this now.
But he wasn’t relieved. He was pissed and restless. He wanted to do something; he wanted to be the one operating, in control, knowing exactly what was going on at every second.
Either that, or he had to get the hell out of here. Before he lost his mind and decided to return to work for good.
Just Right: The Bradfords, Book 1 Page 25