by Anne Fraser
“Thanks, Kathy,” he told the nurse.
“May has hurt for so long.” Her husband took May’s hand in his, brought it to his lips and placed a kiss on her pale skin. “Finally she can start looking forward to life again. For that, we’ll always be grateful to you, Dr Cline.”
“The outcome could have just as easily have been different,” he reminded them, uncomfortable with the lavish praise.
Thank goodness May had no knowledge that her surgeon had completed the procedure with numb fingers. That he had sat down prior to her being stapled, that the vascular surgeon and the nephrologist had finished without him.
Thank goodness she didn’t know her surgeon had temporarily gone blind in one eye.
He swallowed back the thoughts that memory brought with it.
Yesterday had been the worst day of his life in so many ways.
“Well, it didn’t go differently and my family can never thank you enough,” John said.
Awkward heat flooding his cheeks, Adam pulled back May’s blanket and checked the large incision that ran from right beneath her sternum down to her pubis. The wound was holding together excellently with the staples Dr Robards had put in. There wasn’t any sign of infection or bleeding. He hoped to keep it that way.
“Everything looks great. I’ll come by and check you again this afternoon. The vascular surgeon and the nephrologist will both be by as well. Do as they say.” He sighed, meeting May’s expectant gaze. “I wish we’d been able to save your kidney, but it just wasn’t possible. Dr Robards and Dr Nash are both excellent at their craft. Be assured they tried.”
“I’m alive. I know you all did your best.” May nodded her understanding. “Besides, losing a kidney is nothing compared to what you’ve given me, Dr Cline. What you’ve all done for me. The fact you were able to remove the tumor is a miracle.”
A miracle.
He was no miracle worker.
“Dr Robards and Dr Nash deserve credit for your surgery being so successful. Without them, yesterday wouldn’t have happened.”
The couple looked ready to argue, but Adam distracted them by asking the nurse about May’s input via her IV, as she wasn’t allowed to eat or drink yet, and her output from her catheter. He’d already looked at the record on the computer, knew the numbers were decent, but he needed a change of subject.
Adam spent a few more minutes speaking with the couple, leaving shortly after their daughter arrived and began gushing praise of her own.
May surviving the surgery had been a miracle, but not one at his hand.
Seeing May smile, her husband’s and daughter’s looks of relief and love made the all-day, stressful surgery worthwhile.
That evening Liz forced a smile to her face, hoping Kelly and Mona would quit clucking over her like mother hens. “Would you please sit down?”
Her friend kept pacing around the room, checking first one thing then another. With the way Kelly had gone over her room and equipment, Liz had every confidence each detail had been triple-checked.
She’d been transferred from Intensive Care that morning to a regular medical room. Not that she remembered. She didn’t. Not from the moment her car had hit the deer then the tree until she’d woken up to see Mona dozing in the chair next to her bed that afternoon. But apparently she’d been awake off and on, spoken, interacted with her friends and coworkers last night and that morning.
“Sit down,” she repeated, a bit more firmly.
“I can’t. I’m on duty until seven,” Kelly reminded.
“Other than aching like the devil, I’m fine. At least, I will be.” Her gaze went to where her foot was propped upon a pillow. Apparently, she had three fractures in her right ankle. She wasn’t exactly sure how she’d managed to accomplish that feat during the accident. A concussion, multiple contusions, two lacerations requiring sutures, and three fractures in her distal tibia.
Liz’s fingers rested over her belly, just as it had done constantly since she’d woken up. “I have to talk to Dr Graviss.”
“He’s not going to let you go home yet so don’t even bother asking,” Kelly said so bossily Liz would have laughed had movement of any kind not hurt so much.
“Thanks, anyway, but I’m not ready to go home even if he would discharge me. I want my leg fixed first.”
“I’ll call for him,” Kelly said, gave her a hug, then headed for the door. Before she left the room, Dr Graviss entered.
“What can I say? I’m that good.” Kelly gave a whimsical smile, as if she’d summoned him with mystical powers, shrugged, and then followed the doctor over to Liz’s bed.
“How’s my favorite patient?” he asked.
“Stable,” Kelly informed him, kicking into nurse mode. “Her last vitals were excellent.”
Dr Graviss pulled up Liz’s electronic chart and glanced over the information Kelly had entered earlier. When he’d finished, he turned and shook his head. “I was pleased to get Kelly’s call this morning that you were back in the land of the living. You gave us quite a scare.”
“I gave myself quite a scare,” Liz admitted.
“You’re banged up but, other than a few scars here and there, you should heal well.” His gaze dropped to where her right ankle was propped. “Except for the fractures.”
Liz looked at her bandaged leg. “How bad are the breaks?”
“Your distal tibia is going to have to be pinned together. Dr Bell will be by this evening. I suspect he’ll schedule surgical correction within a couple of days if you’re agreeable.”
“What about my…?” She hesitated. “Pregnancy?”
Kelly and Mona exchanged looks, but neither appeared surprised. More as if from the moment she’d woken up they’d been waiting for her to tell them. She’d wanted to tell Adam first.
Dr Graviss looked nonplussed. “Best I can tell, no harm was done during the crash. It’s fortunate that you’re not far along as your body cushioned the impact. Everything should be fine with the baby.” He glanced suspiciously at Mona and Kelly then his gaze met hers, as if he was wondering if they’d told her. “You knew?”
Her friends definitely had been waiting for her to say something. They must have wondered if she’d even known since she’d not told them.
“I knew.” She started to nod, caught her breath at the intense pain that shot through her at the movement, and spoke instead. “I saw an obstetrician yesterday.”
Had it really only been yesterday afternoon that she’d gone to Dr Saunders? That felt like a lifetime ago.
“I’ll get an ultrasound ordered. I ran the machine over you, but all I was checking was the baby’s status.”
“Everything looked normal?” Her hand still rested over her belly and she moved her fingers protectively.
“Everything looked wonderful. Your baby has a strong heartbeat, and you’ve not had any spotting. At this point, it’s unlikely the accident will cause any complications.” He gave a pointed look. “Just no stress allowed.”
No stress. Right. Because she’d had none of that for weeks and weeks now.
“Discussing surgery on my ankle won’t be stressful?”
He gave a wry smile. “I was referring to Adam. Does he know about the baby?”
“I haven’t seen Adam since before the accident. That I recall, that is.” Kelly and Mona had told her about him coming into the radiology room to check on her.
“He wants to see you, but I’ve forbidden him to come anywhere near you. Any more stress right now would be hard on you and on the baby. Until you feel up to it, I don’t want Adam here.”
A wave of loss washed over her. Dr Graviss had forbidden Adam to come near her? She supposed it made sense. She really didn’t need more stress. Stress did bad things to a person. Could prevent her from healing. Could cost her precious things.
Her baby was OK. That’s all that mattered right now. Everything else she’d deal with somehow. Just so long as she didn’t lose Adam’s baby. Everything else would work out. Maybe not as she’d
hoped, how she’d dreamed, but she’d cope, find new dreams with her baby, and she’d count her blessings.
“Adam doesn’t need the stress either,” Dr Graviss continued. “He’s got enough on his plate.”
Liz stared at the doctor, knowing he knew more than she did. Lots more. “Tell me.”
“The hospital board has summoned him for an emergency session.” He hesitated long enough that Liz knew he wasn’t telling her everything.
“Over May?” Liz moved, winced, but the pain didn’t lessen her worry over her friend. “I was told she was doing OK.”
“May is doing fantastically according to all accounts.”
“Then why would the board even care any more?”
“Dr Mills didn’t take kindly to Adam operating on May after he’d deemed her inoperable. Particularly as from all appearances the surgery was a success. Makes him look a bit incompetent to have ruled her inoperable.”
“Arrogant bastard,” Kelly interjected from where she stood at the foot of Liz’s bed.
“His father has been on the board for over twenty years,” Mona added unnecessarily. They all knew Dr Mills’s father decided every move the board made.
Dr Graviss shrugged. “Adam did the right thing, but I understand the board’s take. Operating on May was a liability.”
“Doctors do things like that every day,” Liz reminded him. “Every patient that’s operated on is at risk. The hospital board should stay out of it.”
Dr Graviss smiled at Liz’s adamant stance. “Since they’re responsible for procedures done in this facility—”
“I know,” she interrupted softly. “You’re right, of course. But, well, we all wanted to believe May didn’t have to go on in such pain, just waiting to die. No one should have to suffer that way.” She closed her eyes, memories washing over her. “Or to watch someone they love suffer that way.”
“Feel strongly about this, do you?”
“Of course.” Liz yawned, as exhaustion swept over her. “Adam gave May back hope.”
“He’s a good doctor,” Dr Graviss agreed. “A good man. Misguided at times, but always trying to do what he thinks is the right thing.”
Liz felt like the doctor was trying to tell her something significant. She closed her eyes, intent on studying what that something might be, but despite the three people in her hospital room she fell asleep.
Flustered by his latest round with the hospital board, Adam checked on an appendectomy patient and a cholecystectomy patient he’d operated on that morning. Both were doing well and he’d written discharge orders. Despite every intention to quickly leave that floor, he lingered outside Liz’s hospital room.
How was she? Not that he wasn’t keeping tabs on her. But Larry only told him so much and the man had forbidden him to go anywhere near Liz today. Did he think he was going to demand she give him a second chance whether she wanted to or not?
He’d also consulted with Dr Bell on Liz’s ankle and the orthopedic surgeon planned to operate next morning.
Was Liz dreading surgery? Looking forward to getting her ankle repaired? Had she forgiven him for ruining her life?
He’d like to see her, but now that she’d regained consciousness sneaking in wouldn’t be a simple matter of walking into the room. He couldn’t risk upsetting her, causing her stress of any kind. Larry had strictly warned him that to do so would be detrimental to Liz’s progress.
Soon, though, he would tell Liz everything that was in his heart. He’d tell her how much he missed her. How much he longed for the days when he’d been able to hold her in his arms to his heart’s content and he’d do anything to have those days back, to have the opportunity to make up to her for his foolishness.
She’d asked him to leave the last time she’d seen him.
Surely that had only been shock setting in and she hadn’t meant she didn’t want him near her.
Which was what he kept telling himself the next day as he sauntered through the hospital hallway at four in the morning.
It didn’t surprise him to find Liz sleeping. He should be sleeping, too, since he was supposed to be getting rest, but he’d been unable to sleep and had opted to come in to the hospital.
Adam stood by Liz’s bed, watching her chest rise and fall, watching the flicker of her eyes as she dreamed. Although at first glance she appeared to be resting peacefully, she moaned and despite the risk of her waking he laced his fingers through hers, clasping her hand.
As before, seeing Liz banged up from her accident brought fresh waves of helplessness, loss, guilt. Her crash had been an accident, but he’d never forgive himself for the role he’d inadvertently played.
“My sweet, sweet Liz.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the soft skin.
A noise from the other side of the room had him turning. An elderly lady lay sleeping in the hospital bed next to hers.
The sight of Liz had distracted him so completely that he’d failed to notice her new roommate. From the traction equipment, she’d obviously broken her hip and was probably in a well-medicated sleep. Thank goodness, as he’d been oblivious to everything but Liz.
Still holding her hand, Adam stood over Liz’s bed, watching her breathe, wishing he could take away all her pain, wishing he could have been the one behind the wheel of her car since his future held nothing but shadows.
CHAPTER TEN
SEVERAL days following her surgery, Liz struggled to sit up in her hospital bed without jarring her ankle. Dr Bell had performed surgery and placed metal pins inside her ankle to clasp the tibia bone back into one piece. He’d said that with rest, physical therapy, and determination, she should be back to work in a couple of months. Maybe sooner.
A couple of months.
However was she going to survive financially, being out of work that long?
She couldn’t afford to be laid up. Between the hospital stay and the follow-up, she’d be digging a hole much deeper than the one she’d been buried in.
Since burdening Adam with her debts was no longer an issue, she shouldn’t stress so much, but now there was a baby to consider. A baby she’d need to take time off work to have and to recover from having, a baby she wanted time to bond with. There would be lots of new expenses like more medical bills, diapers, and childcare.
Her heart squeezed at the thought she’d have to leave her baby in someone else’s care so she could return to work as soon as physically possible.
Once he learned of their baby, Adam would insist on helping financially regardless of how he felt about her and the baby. But she balked at the idea of accepting money from him.
She missed him, wanted to talk with him to tell him about their baby, but it wasn’t as if she could chase him down, not with her ankle, and he hadn’t been to see her.
If he’d really wanted to see her he would have come regardless of Dr Graviss’s warning not to. She supposed Dr Graviss ordering him to stay away had seemed like a godsend to Adam. Perhaps the doctor had done so as a favor to his friend.
Single, pregnant, and ignored by the man she cared most for. Perhaps she should hate him.
No matter what was going on in their relationship, Dr Graviss was right. Adam was a good man. She’d spent too much time with him to believe otherwise. Even if things truly were over between them, she’d never regret the time they’d shared.
He’d given her the strength to face each day with a smile during the hardest days of Gramps’s illness. Given her hope that tomorrow would be a better day.
Of course, she’d always believed her tomorrows would hold Adam.
“You sure are lost in thought, dearie.” Nannie Robbins’s sweet grandmotherly voice interrupted from the other side of the hospital room. Due to the hospital being full up, Liz had lost her private room and was now in the company of an elderly lady who’d fallen and broken her hip.
“I was thinking about life,” Liz admitted, wondering how Nannie’s cheery disposition never seemed to fade. She had to be in intense pain, yet she’
d not voiced a single complaint.
The older woman nodded as if she knew exactly what Liz’s thoughts had been. “Yes, life’s the most precious gift we have.”
Liz wouldn’t argue. Her body contained that precious gift, a tiny new person she and Adam had created. For that she would always be grateful.
“When all is said and done, life and love is really all that matters,” Nannie continued with the wisdom of her eighty-plus years of life experience.
“Yes.” Life and love. It sounded simple. “Yet it’s so easy to get caught up in the everyday things that pull us down. To forget just how blessed we are.”
With Gramps’s illness and death, then the problems with Adam, she’d forgotten. Forgotten all the wonderful things in her life, like her friends, the job she loved, her health. She’d had much to be thankful for even before she’d learned about her pregnancy.
“True,” Nannie said, and Liz got the feeling that if the woman could have reached her, she’d have patted her hand. “Nothing should pull you down, dearie, not so long as you have life and love. Love is your shield, life your sword. Use them to guide you through this world and to protect you from sorrows.”
Liz blinked, thinking she’d somehow missed out on part of the conversation. Or that Nannie really was a mind reader.
“Is Adam who you’re in love with?”
Liz’s gaze shot to the crinkly-faced, smiling woman. Not once since Nannie had been moved into her room had Liz mentioned Adam. Not once. “Why would you ask that?”
“Because you cried for him last night in your sleep. You must love him a great deal to miss him so.”
Liz winced. She’d dreamed about Adam last night, dreamed about how he’d been able to make her laugh no matter how down she’d been, how he’d known just what to say to bring a smile to her face, how she’d felt safe, content when he’d held her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“No disturbance, dearie,” Nannie assured her.
“I’ll try not to bother you tonight.”