Michiko shrugged, opening the front panel of the printer and flipping a few levers with practiced ease. “He’s frustrated because you’re working on something so much more interesting than him. Congrats on the Skylight grant, by the way.”
“Thanks. Well, it’s Janet’s grant, not mine.”
Michiko whipped a crumpled sheet of paper out of the printer before closing it back up with a snap. “But everybody knows you did most of the heavy lifting on the grant application. Good work.”
“Um, thank you.” Compliments tended to leave Livie as flustered as confrontations. What she wouldn’t give for Nick’s easy charm.
Michiko paused for a moment. Livie swallowed hard, once again, scrambling through her mind for something interesting to say.
“Thanks for your help with the printer. You’re very proficient with it.”
The corner of Michiko’s mouth twitched, like she was suppressing a smile, and her dark eyes twinkled behind her glasses. “No problem. So, I guess I’ll see you around?”
“Sure. See you.”
Livie was disappointed in herself as she watched her leave. Michiko had gone out of her way to be helpful, intervening with Peter that way, then fixing the printer. And Livie couldn’t manage to engage in conversation with her for more than a few awkward sentences. Had she come across as rude? Ungrateful? She wished, for the thousandth time, that she was better at this stuff. Next time, she’d make a point of saying hello to Michiko first, no matter how nervous it made her.
Thanks to Michiko’s intervention, the printer spit out the rest of her handout in less than ten minutes. After she’d finished collating and stapling, she left them in her office, ready for class the next day, and made her way through the halls of the Astronomy building to Janet’s office. She’d emailed Janet some purchasing info last night and wanted to see if she’d had time to look it over yet.
She was nearly to her office when she heard raised voices, which was pretty unusual for the Astronomy department. Peter Hockman’s weirdness aside, confrontations were rare there. Livie was even more shocked when she realized one of the voices was Janet’s. In all the time she’d known her, she’d never heard her raise her voice about anything.
“If we don’t acquire the new software from Asid Tech, our whole line of research will be out of date inside of a year.” That was Professor Langley. He was also shouting, which was less surprising. He was kind of a showman, always talking the longest and loudest, and frequently touting his own brilliance.
“Your research, William. Interstellar medium is your line of research, not mine.”
“But the software will benefit the whole department.”
“Come on, William,” Janet chastised gently. “No one else will have any use for it. It’s got absolutely nothing to do with my research proposal. You want it for your research.”
“What if I do?” Langley shouted. Livie flinched, imagining Langley blustering at the unassuming, soft-spoken Janet Finch.
“Then you should have tried harder to secure grant money to pay for it. Now if you’ll excuse me—”
“You’ve got plenty with the Skylight money. It’s a single line item, Janet.”
“A line item that has nothing to do with my work and is outside the parameters of my budget proposal.”
“You know as well as I do that departments fudge the expenditures all the time. You’re the department head. No one’s going to question your expenditures.”
“That may be your experience, William, but it’s not mine, and I have no intention of spending a dime of Skylight’s money on anything that’s not directly related to my work.”
You tell him, Livie thought proudly. Of course Janet would shut down Langley’s completely unethical proposition.
“Because you’re the fucking star of this department? Uptight fucking women.”
Livie gasped in shock. How dare he speak to her that way? But Langley wasn’t done.
“If it’s not part of your brilliant line of research, then fuck it? Is that it? You arrogant little—”
She’d heard enough. Ordinarily, she’d never dream of interrupting, but she wasn’t about to let Langley keep verbally abusing Janet that way.
“Knock knock. Hey, Janet, is this a bad time?”
She turned to look at Livie, and Livie’s heart squeezed at the expression on her face—so haggard and pinched. And she was pale. Confrontations like this weren’t in her nature, any more than they were in Livie’s. Screw Langley for attacking her that way.
“No, Livie, it’s fine. Professor Langley was just leaving.”
Langley shot her one more filthy glare before turning toward the door. “We’ll finish this later.”
“It’s already finished,” Janet said, recovering some of her usual equilibrium. “I have nothing further to say on the matter.”
“We’ll see about that.” Livie had to stumble out of the way to avoid being shoved by Langley as he stormed through the door. No wonder Peter Hockman was such a sexist douchebag. His mentor had trained him well.
Once he was gone, Livie turned back to Janet. Her back was turned, her hands rifling through a stack of papers on her desk in an aimless fashion. Livie could feel her discomfort coming off of her in waves. She was probably as shaken up as Livie would be in that situation, and she needed a moment to compose herself. She busied herself getting out her laptop, giving Janet the time she needed.
“Your purchasing proposals look good, Livie,” she said at last, her voice tight and small. “I’ll sign off on them and get them emailed to the dean for approval tomorrow.” If she wanted to pretend that ugly scene hadn’t happened, Livie was happy to let her.
“Thanks.”
“Did you get the bid for the new monitors?”
“Yes, I did. Let me find it in my email.”
Livie scrolled through her email looking for the bid she’d received the day before.
“Livie...”
“One second. Oh, here it is. Okay, I’m forwarding it to you.”
Then Janet made a noise. All the little hairs on the back of Livie’s neck stood up. That was not a noise people were supposed to make...ever.
She looked up just as Janet crumpled slowly to the floor.
“Janet!”
Panic flooded her body as she rushed to Janet. She was curled into an awkward heap on her side. Livie gently rolled her onto her back. She felt so small, so fragile. Her color was bad. Very bad. The last time she’d seen someone this washed out and gray—no, she wasn’t going there.
Her heart hammering, she sought out Janet’s pulse in her thin, bony wrist with one hand, as she frantically dialed 9-1-1 on her cell with the other hand. When she finally found Janet’s pulse, it was hardly even there, nothing more than a barely perceptible flutter under her fingers.
The whole time, as she breathlessly explained everything to the dispatcher, she prayed. She hadn’t prayed since she was eleven. It hadn’t worked then, so she’d given it up. But now she prayed to anyone who might be listening that that fragile little flutter would keep going until help arrived.
Chapter Fifteen
Livie hadn’t stepped foot in a hospital since she was eleven. That hadn’t struck her as particularly odd—she hadn’t felt as if she’d been purposefully avoiding them—until the ambulance had taken Janet away and Livie, faced with the prospect of following them to the hospital on her own, went weak-kneed with fear.
She had to go. In the chaos of the ambulance arrival, as the paramedics had worked to stabilize Janet and secure her on the gurney, she’d learned from Anita that Janet’s husband was out of the country, and her son was in Chicago this week for work. She hadn’t even known Janet had a family, but according to Anita, her husband, a classics professor at NYU, was at a conference in Vancouver. Someone had to go to the hospital, and Livie quickly realized, her heart sinking, that ther
e was only her.
The thing was, she wanted to be there. Janet shouldn’t be alone. And sure, their relationship thus far had been purely student/teacher, but she liked Janet and wanted to be with her in this crisis. But when she pulled out her phone intending to call for a Lyft, she froze. She couldn’t face walking into that hospital, at least, not alone.
She typed out a text in the family group chat.
Finch just taken to the hospital. I need to go sit with her. Can’t go alone.
Moments later, there was a reply, but it wasn’t from Jess or Gemma. It was from Nick.
Oh no. She’d had the wrong group chat open, the one she’d started a few days ago, to make sure Nick had everyone’s contact info.
Which hospital? Meet you there.
Oh, God, how embarrassing. Frantically, she typed out a response.
Sorry, typed in the wrong chat. Meant for Gemma and Jess. Don’t worry about it.
A moment after she hit Send, her phone vibrated with an incoming call. It was Nick. He started talking the instant she accepted the call.
“Just tell me which hospital. I’m on my way.”
“Really, Nick, you don’t have to—”
He bulldozed right over her protests. “Livie. Which hospital?”
“Maimonides. It’s at—”
“I know where it is. Wait for me outside the ER entrance.”
“Okay. And thanks.”
* * *
At Maimonides, facing the ER entrance, once again she froze. She should just walk in. Stop being a coward and go. Then she could text Nick and tell him she was fine. Nothing to worry about.
But her feet simply wouldn’t move. All she could do was stare in mute horror at the sliding doors, feeling vaguely queasy. She restlessly paced the stretch of sidewalk out front, keeping her eyes averted from the bank of waiting ambulances, and cursed her weakness.
A black car pulled up at the corner and Nick stepped out on the sidewalk. The rush of relief she felt at the sight of him was embarrassing. And scary. The last thing she should start doing was depending on him, at least for anything outside of computer help.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Her embarrassment ratcheted up another notch. She didn’t want him seeing this side of her, too scared to walk through a stupid hospital door.
“Really, you didn’t have to come. I’m fine.” Which was a lie, since she’d spent the past five minutes staring at a set of sliding doors in terror.
“Stop. I’m here. Let’s go see how she’s doing.”
She turned and braced herself. It had been fourteen years. She was an adult now. Surely she was making a big deal out of nothing. She was probably going to walk in and be perfectly fine, and all this drama would have been for nothing.
The sliding doors opened for them and Nick ushered her in ahead of him. Her sense memory was triggered immediately. The antiseptic smell, the overly bright fluorescent lights, the cacophony of beeps and bells and overhead announcements—in an instant, her throat felt tight and her heart began to pound. Nick gave her a quick, assessing once-over, then placed his hand on the small of her back, propelling her forward. Thank God he had, or she might have stopped right there and refused to take another step. But his brisk efficiency grounded her, focused her.
In another moment, she found herself at the information desk, asking the nurse for Janet’s location. Then there was a map to consult, and elevators to find, and before she knew it, they’d made their way to the right floor.
“What happened to her?” he asked as they walked down the long, bright hallway toward the right wing.
“The paramedics said they thought it was a heart attack.”
“Were you with her?”
“Yes. She just...” She stopped, swallowing hard. He laid his hand on her back again, the firm, warm pressure of it bringing her back to the moment. “She collapsed. Her skin was so pale and gray. And I could barely feel her heartbeat.”
“Lots of people have heart attacks and they’re fine.”
“I know. But—” It was too hard to finish that thought. She didn’t tell him that she’d seen death in someone’s face once before, and she’d seen it again today in Janet’s.
The nurse looked up as they approached.
“Hi, I’m looking for Doctor...um, Janet Finch. She was brought in by ambulance about an hour ago?”
The nurse typed her name into the computer. “It looks like she’s still in surgery.”
“Surgery?” Livie echoed. “What for?”
“Are you a family member?”
“I’m her graduate student.”
“I’m afraid I can only give out patient information to family members.”
“But her husband is in Vancouver, and her son is in Chicago.”
“Hospital policy. Sorry.”
Nick turned to Livie. “Can you call one of them? Her husband? Her son? They should know what’s going on.”
“Anita already called them. They’re on their way. But I have their numbers.”
“Call,” Nick urged. “They’ll want an update and it’ll reassure them, knowing you’re here with her.”
They found the waiting room and Livie made the calls. Her husband’s phone went straight to voice mail, but she reached Andy, her son. He was at O’Hare, trying to get on the next flight to New York. Nick was right. Andy thanked her profusely for being there when he couldn’t be and he promised to call the hospital as soon as he hung up, so they’d give Livie updates until he could get there.
Within fifteen minutes, a physician’s assistant had come out to fill them in on her situation. Yes, it had been a heart attack. Tests showed blockage in two arteries. She was in surgery now to clear the blockages. They’d know more when she was out.
“Is it...” Livie began, then paused, not sure if she should ask what she was thinking.
“Yes?” The physician’s assistant was nice, a woman in her twenties with kind dark eyes and a brisk, but warm demeanor. “Do you have another question?”
“What caused it?”
“The blockages? Any number of factors can contribute to—”
“No, the actual attack. Why today? Could it be...would stress trigger it? Like, a fight?”
“A stressful situation can raise the blood pressure, and yes, it can precipitate an attack, if the underlying conditions are already present. Is that what you mean?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
“I’ll come give you another update when she’s out of surgery.”
“Thank you.”
So Janet’s heart had already been in trouble. But there was that fight with Langley. In her gut, Livie knew that’s what had brought this on. This was all his fault.
“What’s going on?” Nick asked when the physician’s assistant had left. “Why did you ask her that?”
Did she really want to tell Nick about this? If either of her sisters had been there—but they weren’t and he was, and they were friends.
“I heard something. Right before she collapsed. She was having this terrible fight with Professor Langley. I’ve never heard her sound like that before.”
“What were they fighting about?”
“Equipment. Langley wanted her to purchase some software for his research with the Skylight grant money.”
“I’m guessing that’s a violation of a hundred different policies.”
“It is. That’s what I told—”
“Who?” Nick urged when she trailed off.
“Peter Hockman.”
“Who is that?”
“He’s another PhD candidate in my class. He said something to me earlier today, about buying equipment. He seemed really angry about the grant. It was weird.”
Nick’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Weird how?”
“I’m sure it’s nothin
g,” she said, shaking her head. “Peter’s frustrated because his research with Langley isn’t getting as much attention as what I’m working on with Janet.”
“Did this guy threaten you or something?”
“No, no, it wasn’t like that.” Except it had kind of felt like a threat, hadn’t it? Peter had been trying to intimidate her before Michiko stepped in and put him in his place. It was odd, Peter making all those comments about their “windfall” at the same time Langley was pressuring Janet to buy him new equipment with her grant.
“Yeah, maybe, but you tell me if he hassles you again.”
Despite the tension of the situation, his glower made her laugh. “What are you going to do, Nick, beat him up for me?”
He smiled, a wicked smile that made her heart flip over. “Like I’d need to do that when I can ruin his life much more effectively from my keyboard.”
His criminal threats really shouldn’t make her heart beat faster. “You wouldn’t do that, though.”
“I’m very resourceful. Promise me you’ll tell me if the guy gives you a hard time again.”
“Sure.” Although she was certain there’d be nothing else to tell. Peter was harmless. Michiko was right. He was just frustrated that his academic career wasn’t going as well as hers. She was sure of that.
Chapter Sixteen
Livie sank into one of her pensive silences. But the thing Nick was discovering with Livie was that her silences were never really quiet. She didn’t say a word or fidget at all, but he could sense her brain busily at work. Livie’s silences practically shouted.
Reaching out, he tugged gently on a lock of her hair. She jumped, swiveling around to look at him with those big brown eyes. She had Bambi eyelashes, long and curling. They were totally unexpected in her serious face.
“Want to tell me why I’m here?” he asked gently.
“You said you wanted to come. But you don’t have to stay. You can go, I’ll be fine.”
Okay, maybe he hadn’t been the kind of friend who offered emotional support before, but that didn’t mean he was incapable of it. “No, Livie, stop. I do want to be here. I know Finch, too, remember? I like her. I want to be here for her with you. I meant hospitals. Why couldn’t you come in here by yourself? It was the hospital that freaked you out, right?”
Love and the Laws of Motion Page 10