His Best Mistake

by Kristi Gold

  “To be her mother, not her doctor.”

  Leah turned at the sound of the familiar voice coming from behind her. A voice belonging to none other than her former roommate. “How did you know she was here, Macy?”

  “I saw her name on the surgery board,” Macy said. “And I’m going to scrub in, not you.”

  “But you don’t do pediatrics.”

  “You are absolutely correct. Usually I avoid it like bridal gowns. But since this is a very special rug rat who requires very special attention, I’m making an exception. You may kiss my ring later.” She topped off the comment with her trademark grin.

  Admittedly Leah felt somewhat better knowing that Macy—who rightfully carried the reputation of one of the most talented senior surgical residents—would be there to look after Carly. Yet she wouldn’t feel at all settled until this ordeal was over and she was assured her baby was fine. “I need to see her before they take her in.”

  Alice opened the door and peered into the room. “They’re bringing her out now. But we only have a few minutes.”

  When they rolled the gurney through the open doorway, Leah took her place on one side while Kevin moved around to the opposite side. Even after all the times she’d dealt with sick children, nothing compared with viewing the nasogastric tube and IV invading her daughter’s tiny body. Nothing hurt more than knowing she couldn’t make it all better this time.

  “Hey, sweetie, Mommy’s right here,” Leah said as she touched Carly’s hand, fighting tears that she refused to let fall until later. A war she almost lost when Kevin leaned over the railing, kissed Carly’s cheek and murmured, “Daddy’s here too, baby girl. And I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  While she was on the verge of falling apart, Kevin seemed so confident, so strong. Yet she recognized that he, too, was as torn up over their daughter’s illness when she noticed the turmoil calling out from his eyes.

  Before they wheeled Carly away, Leah kissed her forehead and smoothed a hand over her hair. When her baby began to cry, she started to ask if she could ride up in the elevator with her, but she wasn’t certain how much longer she could hold it together. Instead, she watched as Macy accompanied her child on the first part of a journey in which Leah couldn’t take part.

  “How long will the surgery last?” Kevin asked Alice once the elevator doors closed.

  “At least an hour. Until then, all you can do is wait.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  IT HAD to be the longest hour of Kevin’s life. And still, fifteen minutes after that time frame, no word from anyone that the surgery had finally ended. At least now he fully understood what his mother had told him—having a child did mean loving someone more than yourself. If he could take Carly’s place, he’d gladly do it. Anything to stop his baby’s suffering and Leah’s too, although she seemed to prefer suffering in silence.

  Since they’d moved from the surgery waiting area to the staff lounge, at Leah’s insistence, they’d barely spoken to each other. He’d chosen the sofa in hopes that she would join him. Instead, she sat alone in a chair across from him, her bent elbow braced on the arm, her palm supporting her jaw. Her expression seemed relatively blank and that worried Kevin more than if she were shedding uncontrollable tears. Maybe the shock had yet to subside, or maybe her silence meant something else altogether.

  “Are you not speaking to me because you think this is somehow my fault?” he asked.

  “It’s no one’s fault.”

  At least she wasn’t blaming him or herself. “Then why won’t you talk to me?”

  “Because I don’t feel like talking.” She afforded him a cursory glance. “You really shouldn’t be here, Kevin.”

  She couldn’t be serious. “If you think I’m going to leave Carly when she’s going through this just because you don’t want me here—”

  “I meant you shouldn’t be at a hospital. Undergoing chemo compromises your immune system.”

  “My immune system is fine. I’ve been released by my doctor and I don’t have another appointment scheduled for six months.”

  “That’s good.” She sounded polite and noncommittal, but at least she seemed concerned about his wellbeing. He was more concerned about his daughter’s health.

  Kevin checked the clock on the wall and noted another five minutes had passed since the last time he’d looked. “Why do you think it’s taking so long?”

  “Surgery doesn’t follow an exact timetable,” she said as she kept her gaze leveled on the door, her tone still flat.

  Kevin lowered his head and swiped a hand over the back of his neck. “I screwed up more times than I can count. I hurt people I loved and I had moments of pure worthlessness. For those reasons, maybe I got what I had coming to me when I was sick. But Carly hasn’t done anything to deserve this, and that’s why this is so damn wrong.”

  “I know, but as I’ve told you before, I see it everyday, children suffering for no apparent reason with horrible outcomes.”

  That sent another round of questions into Kevin’s mind. Questions he feared asking, yet he had to know the answers. “I need you to tell me every possible scenario, Leah. Anything that could happen, no matter how bad it might be.”

  “You don’t want to know, Kevin.”

  That’s when he realized the extent of the burden she bore from the weight of her medical knowledge. “Yes, I do want to know. Everything. I can handle it.”

  When she fell silent again, Kevin thought he might have to force the issue, until she finally said, “If the laparoscopic procedure doesn’t work, they’ll have to open her up. There’s also a possibility a portion of her intestine might have to be removed if it’s necrotic. She could have a reoccurrence in the next few days, although that’s not common unless there’s another underlying condition.”

  “Is that likely?”

  “Not usually, but anything’s possible.”

  He sensed she was still holding back. “What are you not telling me, Leah?”

  “She could die.”

  The declaration had the impact of a gut punch. “That’s not going to happen, Leah. It can’t happen.”

  The door opened, followed by, “We came as soon as we got your message.”

  Kevin turned his attention from Leah to his mother, who rushed in, sat beside him and embraced him tightly. His father entered the room at a much more leisurely pace and remained standing, looking as if he wasn’t sure what to do next. He glanced at Kevin then at Leah and asked, “How is our little lassie?”

  “She was stable when they took her into surgery,” she said, sounding every bit the doctor. “As far as we know, the procedure is still going on.”

  Lucy rested her open palm below her throat. “I feel horrible that I didn’t insist Kevin bring her into the hospital immediately when I saw her this morning.”

  When Leah leveled her gaze on him, Kevin regretted not telling her about his mother’s visit or that he’d called his parents a little while ago. “I asked Mom to stop by the house when I first started noticing Carly’s change in behavior,” he explained. “I wanted to make sure I wasn’t jumping to the wrong conclusion.”

  “And I thought she was probably teething, Leah,” his mother added. “Had I known it was this serious—”

  “It’s okay, Mrs. O’Brien.” Leah sent her a small smile. “I missed the diagnosis and I’m a doctor.”

  “This surgery will correct the problem?” Dermot asked.

  “It should.” Leah came to her feet and retrieved a cup of coffee from the carafe set out on the counter. She then turned and said, “Would anyone else like a cup?”

  “I wouldn’t mind one,” his mother said as she rose and joined Leah.

  Dermot took the spot his wife had just vacated. “The waiting is the worst part,” he said. “I remember when Kevin was born and they whisked him away before we had officially welcomed him into the world. My wife did not leave the hospital until they turned this laddie loose.”

  “I had three little boys unde
r the age of six at home,” Lucy added. “For almost a month, Dermot had to take care of them and a newborn by himself.”

  That was the first time Kevin had heard that part of the story. “You didn’t go home with Kieran?”

  Lucy shook her head. “I couldn’t leave you all alone in that place.”

  Kevin almost couldn’t get past his incredulity. “But didn’t Kieran need you, too?”

  “Yes, but you needed me more.” She came back to the sofa and perched on the arm. “Just like Carly needs both of you now and even after she’s grown with a family of her own.” She gave Kevin a meaningful look. “Of course, in some ways she’ll always need you. It reminds me of that Chinese proverb—‘To understand your parents’ love you must raise children yourself.’”

  When Leah abruptly turned toward the counter, Kevin suspected she might be crying. His dad seemed to have noticed, as well, as he stood and said, “My love, let us go buy that little bear you were eyein’ when we passed the gift shop.”

  Lucy looked at him as if he’d lost his faculties. “I’d like to be here when the surgery’s over, Dermot.”

  His dad nodded toward Leah, who still kept her back to them. “Kevin will give us a shout on the cell phone if we’re not back by then.”

  After glancing at Leah, awareness dawned in Lucy’s expression and she came to her feet. “That’s a wonderful idea, dear.”

  Kevin stood and gave his dad a brief hug, grateful for his astute observation and the opportunity to be alone with Leah. To console her, if she’d let him. “I’ll definitely give you a call as soon as we know something.”

  The minute his parents were out the door, Kevin walked up behind Leah and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay, babe?”

  When she turned to speak, Kevin witnessed the protective wall she’d erected begin to crumble when a few tears slid down her cheeks. Tears that she quickly wiped away with her fingertips. When he tried to hold her, she put up her hands to ward him off and said, “Don’t.”

  Regardless of how badly that stung, he refused to give up. “You told me you didn’t know if you could trust me to hang around if the going got tough,” he said. “I’m here, Leah. For you and for Carly. Let me help you get through this.”

  She strode to the window, again keeping her back to him. “I can’t afford to need you.”

  And again he moved behind her and rested his palms on her shoulders. “But you do need me, and I need you. I love you, Leah, more than you’ll ever know.”

  “Don’t do this to me, Kevin.”

  He turned her around to face him. “Just because you don’t want to hear it doesn’t make it any less true.”

  When Leah’s bravado completely shattered, Kevin pulled her into his arms and was thankful that this time she didn’t resist. Instead, she clutched the front of his shirt and pressed her face against his chest, her whole body shaking from her sorrow. For several moments, he held on to Leah, telling her everything would be okay, anchoring her, as well as himself.

  When the door opened, Kevin glanced over his shoulder to see Macy enter the room. “Sorry to interrupt,” she began. “But I’m here to give an official report if the two of you are done cuddling.”

  Leah pushed away from Kevin, looking like some teenager who’d just gotten caught necking with her boyfriend in a back seat. “Is it over?” she asked as she grabbed a tissue from a holder set out on the counter.

  Macy untied the surgical mask hanging around her neck and tossed it into a nearby trash bin. “Yep, and it was pretty amazing. Franklin took that little kink in Carly’s belly and slid it right back into place, and he did it through a scope. She’s good to go, or she will be in a few days.”

  “Thank God,” Leah murmured.

  Kevin’s sentiments exactly. “When can we see her?”

  “Right now, but you’ll only be allowed to stay for a couple of minutes, and that’s only because Leah has clout. Otherwise, they’d make you wait until they moved her out of recovery.”

  When Macy and Leah exited side by side, Kevin trailed behind and listened while they exchanged information about technical details that meant nothing to him. A conversation involving sats and output and anesthesia that was beyond his comprehension. On the one hand, he felt like an outsider looking in. On the other, for the first time he truly saw Leah as a doctor, a concept that had been almost abstract until now.

  They pushed through a set of double doors, rounded a corner and entered an area housing rows of beds cordoned off with curtains. Unwanted memories of his own experience rushed back into Kevin’s mind. He hated hospitals. Hated the sterile scents and the drone of monitors, the somber atmosphere. But those things he hated also symbolized life-sustaining treatment. This time, his daughter’s life, he realized when Macy led them to a cubicle in the corner where Carly lay on a white-sheeted bed, a miniature yellow robe dotted with red teddy bears covering her torso, her eyes closed against the fluorescent lights.

  She had so many tubes snaking out from various parts of her body that Kevin didn’t know where some began and others ended. Leah moved to the side of the bed while he hung back, almost afraid to come any closer, as if he might break her if he so much as breathed on her.

  Leah pressed her knuckles against Carly’s cheek. “Her color looks good.”

  As far as Kevin was concerned, his daughter looked completely defenseless, and he felt totally helpless.

  “She’s a little trooper,” Macy added. “Right now I have a diseased gallbladder with my name on it, so I need to go. And so do you. You two can see her again when they move her to the pediatric ICU in about an hour.”

  Kevin’s stomach clenched. “Why the ICU?”

  “It’s standard,” Leah said. “If all goes well tonight, they’ll move her to a room in the morning.”

  Macy turned to Kevin and pointed at him. “You, take care of both of them, unless you’d like to audition for lead soprano in a choir.”

  He didn’t particularly care for Macy’s threats, not when he intended to take care of his daughter and Leah at any cost. But he wasn’t sure how well he could do that until he had some time to regroup.

  On that thought, he pressed a kiss on Carly’s forehead and backed away from the bed. “See you soon, sweetheart.”

  He led the way out of the recovery room at a fast clip with Leah following not far behind. They retraced the path they’d taken earlier but this time Kevin opted to bypass the lounge, seeking some form of refuge where he could think.

  “Kevin, where are you going?” Leah called out as he kept traveling down the hall. He raised a hand in acknowledgment but he didn’t speak. Right now, he couldn’t.

  After finding an exit, Kevin shoved through the glass door and located a small alcove at the side of the building, away from humanity where he could sort through his feelings alone. He leaned forward against the brick wall and rested his forehead on his bent arm.

  The fear for his daughter’s well-being was so acute, he found it hard to breathe.

  Boys don’t cry.

  The words echoed in his mind, reminders of a time when he’d been a kid too small in stature to manage his own battles without his twin’s assistance. But he would pick fights anyway. He’d learned to kick hard and wound with words. He’d learned how to toughen up, to shield his emotions long after he’d grown enough to hold his own. Those habits had followed him well into adulthood, influencing every relationship he’d ever had, until he’d eventually discovered that using charm as his weapon of choice worked well. It was nothing more than a means to hide the scrawny kid who in some ways still existed. The kid who would rather fight than admit he was outmatched.

  He was tired of fighting but he worried that if he did finally cry, he might never stop. The tears fell regardless of his concerns, silent and unseen. Kevin let the emotional dam shatter completely, in turn releasing years of bottled feelings. A final act that signified his transformation was complete. Almost complete, because he still couldn’t imagine revealing his
grief to anyone, not even Leah. Especially not Leah.

  And although he did feel somewhat better, an all-too-familiar loneliness prevailed. Maybe that was the last phase of his redemption—learning that nothing hurt worse than experiencing your anguish alone.

  “HERE’S DADDY, Carly.” Leah turned the baby around in her lap so she could face the hospital-room door where Kevin now stood. His hair was shower-damp, his jaw not quite clean-shaven, his T-shirt and jeans faded but not at all unpleasant. Nothing about him was the least bit unpleasant, Leah realized as he walked to the rocker and took their daughter into his strong, solid arms.

  After Carly grabbed his bottom lip, Kevin pulled her hand away and kissed her palm. “Did you and your mom have a good afternoon?”

  “We had about an hour together alone, Kevin. I thought you were going to stay home and get some sleep.” For the past five days, he’d kept vigil over their daughter almost 24/7 and the stress had begun to show in his dark eyes.

  When Kevin sat on the sofa, Carly immediately rested her head on his shoulder and stuck two fingers in her mouth. Leah found that remarkable since she’d been squirming and fussing for the past half hour. Clearly now that her daddy was back, all was right with her world, and that gave Leah pause. If she moved back to Mississippi—correction, when she moved—Carly was going to miss him terribly. Then again, so would she.

  “You must really be behind on your work,” she said, clearing all thoughts of August from her mind.

  He nodded at the black case sitting on the nightstand. “I’ve been working on my laptop when she goes to sleep. I also convinced a unit clerk to log me on to the hospital’s wireless network, but don’t tell anyone. I don’t want her to get into trouble.”

  Leah couldn’t help but wonder exactly what he’d done to convince her. “Did you promise her a little slap and tickle in the supply closet?”

  He frowned. “I said please.”

  She felt somewhat shamed over sounding like a snippy, jealous lover. Frankly, she was jealous. She’d seen the way women looked at him, from the lab techs to the ladies who delivered the meals. Every time she noticed one of those stealthy glances, she’d wanted to shout, “He’s mine, hands off.” Yet she had no good reason or right to do that.