All the obstacles with Rhiann lingered.
Clay walked in, tying his scrub cap. “You know I’m supposed to have a date tonight? With a blonde who has legs that are longer than mine?” He faked a long-suffering sigh as he started scrubbing his hands at the sink next to Patrick. “And she’s a gymnastics teacher. Do you have any clue how flexible she is?”
Knowing the type of woman Clay usually dated, Patrick had a pretty good idea. “I appreciate you postponing her for me.”
“You’re gonna owe me big-time for this. I think first stab at vacation time for the next full year and my next five on-call weekends.”
“If that’s what it takes,” Patrick said dryly, picking up the antimicrobial soap and beginning his scrub.
The scent of the soap wafted up as he started sanitizing his hands.
“Today has been an emotional roller coaster for me,” he told his partner. “Last night I finally read through the medical reports from the day Mallory and Everly died. Then I went to talk to Rhiann and found Levi in this condition. I’m already on edge, and this kid has managed to dig his way right through me. I don’t know if I can take it if things go south.”
Clay considered his words for a moment before speaking, and to Patrick’s relief he didn’t mention the medical reports and focused on the living child they could save.
“Well, you’re probably too close to be one hundred percent objective. In fact, you might want to let me be the lead surgeon on this one. You know I’ve worked on several TOF cases.”
Patrick shook his head. “No, I need to be the one to do this.”
Determination filled him like never before. This surgery was something he couldn’t pass off to Clay. He hadn’t been around when Mallory and Everly had needed him. He’d let them down. But there was no way he was going to let Levi down. He had to do this himself.
Clay nudged him with his shoulder, taking care not to contaminate their scrubs. “And I need to be here to make sure you do. You know I got you, partner.”
“Let’s do this.”
They moved into the surgical suite, where the scrub nurse helped them gown and glove. Levi was already on the table, intubated and still.
Patrick drew himself up momentarily. Seeing Levi spread out, unconscious, looking so tiny and frail, was almost too much. He sucked in a deep breath.
“I can do it,” Clay offered again. “Let me help you.”
“No.” Patrick stepped up to the surgical table. “He’s my patient and I’ve got this. Scalpel.”
Patrick hesitated only briefly before slicing through the soft skin on Levi’s chest. When he got him open, he found that the ventricular septal defect in Levi’s heart was worse than the tests had shown.
“So...is it this little guy that’s broken through the ice around your frozen heart or his hot mama that’s got you thawing?”
“Shut up, Clay,” Patrick growled as he prepared a synthetic patch.
He was getting through this surgery by pretending Levi was just another patient. He didn’t need Clay to remind him that one mistake could cost him the child who had come to mean so much to him.
“Ah... I’ll take that as both.” Clay watched from Patrick’s side, ready to step in at the first sign of trouble. “About time you got out of your own way a little bit.”
“I mean it, Clay...”
Despite the defect being more difficult than he’d anticipated, and Clay’s constant annoying chatter, Patrick was soon able to get the tiny patch in place and thus reroute the blood flow in Levi’s heart over to the path that it should have taken from the start. Then he replaced the pulmonary valve that was too small and too delicate to be widened.
“Can someone send an update to his mother to say that things are going well so far?” he murmured, as he remembered what he’d promised Rhiann.
“I will, Dr. Scott.” One of the nurses stepped away to make the update.
“You think we need to resect some of the tissue in the right ventricle?” Clay asked. “I think he’s got a little too much to return to normal thickness on its own, don’t you?”
Patrick nodded, and began the cut to remove the obstructive muscle tissue narrowing the pathway through Levi’s right ventricle. After he’d finished that, and carefully checked that the blood would flow out from the left ventricle into the aorta, he closed, doing his best to match up the sides of the incision to minimize scarring.
Some scarring was unavoidable, but Patrick always did what he could to make sure he left as little a reminder as possible. Heart surgery kids had enough on their little plates without adding the self-esteem issues a giant scar might bring.
He took his time scrubbing down. Now that it was over, the emotions he’d suppressed during the lengthy, complex surgery were welling up, and he was struggling to keep his cool. The surgery had gone far more smoothly than he could have even hoped, but Levi still had a long recovery ahead of him.
The baby was weak, despite Patrick’s careful management of blood loss, and it was going to be several long days before he could truly relax his guard.
But for now he had to give Rhiann the news that Levi had made it through surgery successfully, and that was something he could smile about.
And he’d go tell her about how well it had gone once he could get his hands to quit shaking...
“I guess you didn’t need me after all.” Clay looked at the clock.
“I guess not.” Patrick dried his hands and leaned against the sink. “Thank you.”
Clay shrugged. “That little one’s mama is good for you. I’m starting to see hints of the old you peeking out behind the turrets on the ice castle.”
With a snort, Patrick shook his head at his partner.
“I’m gonna head out now and see if I can catch a late dinner with Flexible Felicia.”
Clay left, in a hurry to get away from the hospital and spend some time with his flavor of the evening. One day Clay might meet someone who would make him settle down, but Patrick had doubts that it would be the gymnast.
After a deep stretch, to try to loosen up the tight muscles in his back, Patrick walked out of the scrub room to find Rhiann.
Rhiann
Pacing from the door to the update board, Rhiann impatiently awaited news on Levi. Each time the board flickered as a case was updated Rhiann and the other anxiously waiting family members would hurry forward to check if it was their loved one with an update.
When the update wasn’t for Levi, she continued her agitated strides from one side of the room to the other and back.
The update board listed each person as a case number—nothing identifiable. The assigned numbers sat there on their last update. Some said, “Surgery started” for forty minutes before updating to a “Going as expected.” Others flashed more frequently, adding updates that the patient was “Doing well” or “Doing fine.” The ones that switched over to “Closing, doing fine” or “In Recovery” earned a relieved gasp or a tearful hug.
When an update finally flashed up saying Levi’s surgery was “Going well so far,” Rhiann felt sick with relief.
“Honey, why don’t you come sit down here with me for just a minute now you’ve had some news?” Marilyn Scott asked from her chair along the wall nearest the exterior doors. She patted the faded beige seat beside her.
The levels of anxiety building inside her, despite the update, made that an almost impossible task, but nevertheless Rhiann found herself in the seat next to Patrick’s mother. The low-backed chair put an instant ache in her back.
She looked around the room at the other seating options. Upright chairs and narrow couches made semi-circles in various configurations around the large waiting room. Along the outer glass wall a series of backless benches rested, keeping the view of the valet stand and parking garage as unobstructed as possible. All were covered in shades of beige or gray. None were comfor
table.
“I’m not sure why you’re here, but thank you for waiting with me,” Rhiann told the older woman.
Some patients had a group of family there, offering their support, taking up more than their share of the waiting room. Most of the pediatric patients had both parents, or a parent and a grandparent. Rhiann had thought she’d be the one sitting alone in a corner somewhere, holding a book she pretended to read. Or pacing back and forth, carrying all her things and the clear plastic drawstring bag full of Levi’s clothes because she had no one to watch them if she left them sitting there.
“It’s nice not being alone for once. But I’ll understand if you need to go.”
“I’m here because Patrick asked me to be. Precisely because he didn’t think you should be alone.” Marilyn patted her hand, shivering when the automatic doors whooshed open and let in a cold breeze.
“We should move away from these doors.”
Rhiann didn’t want the older woman to come down with a cold just because she’d been kind enough to keep her from being alone. She pointed to a spot under an arch, across from the surgery information desk. Marilyn nodded and they gathered their things to move over there.
“Why would Patrick do that?” asked Rhiann.
Marilyn settled down on the small couch and sighed when she felt the heat was on. She looked far more comfortable on this side of the room.
“Because you matter to him—don’t you realize that?”
Rhiann’s heart warmed at the knowledge that Patrick had not only thought of her needs, but acted on them to make sure she had everything. That was the Patrick who had earned the title of her best friend. That was the loving, caring friend she’d been broken-hearted to lose. It was nice to see him starting to be the man she knew him to be again.
Overhead, a creaky male voice announced over the PA system that they were conducting a test on their alert system and for everyone to ignore the incoming message. Despite that, when all the phones in the room rang, or buzzed, everyone looked at their screens hopefully.
A collective sigh echoed in the cavernous space when the words on the screen read, This is a test. Soon, the chatter of voices rose back to pre-announcement levels and settled into a loud and overwhelming din. Nothing distinct.
Returning to her conversation with Patrick’s mother, Rhiann tried to rationalize his actions. “We were friends for years. I think having this contact over Levi has made him feel a bit responsible and want to help me. That’s all.”
Mrs. Scott made a tsking noise with her tongue. “I remember you, and your friendship with Patrick, and his asking me to be here has very little to do with that. This is entirely about my son falling for you and your little boy.”
Rhiann blushed at the frankness in the older woman’s words. “I’m sure you’re mistaken. If Patrick has any emotion for me it’s hatred, because I couldn’t save his family.”
She looked away and watched a window-cleaning crew set up to clean the massive amounts of glass around the waiting room. The crew added a new layer of noise to the already loud room. The buckles on their harnesses clanked. Squeegees squeaked. But even the additional noise couldn’t distract her from the uncomfortable encounter she found herself having with Patrick’s mother.
Mrs. Scott laid a hand on Rhiann’s knee, bringing her back to the conversation she was trying to avoid. “Hmm... I think I know my son better than that. For the record, I never blamed you for Mallory and Everly’s deaths. And I told my son he was a moron for doing so.”
Rhiann blinked away tears. She couldn’t let herself start crying or she might not stop. “I could use some coffee. How about you?”
“I’m fine, dear.”
Rhiann hopped up and hurried over to the busy coffee cart next to the surgery information desk. She ordered coffee and a pumpkin muffin, taking her time adding cream and sugar before she made her way back over to Patrick’s mom.
She sipped at the coffee and pulled a face as she sat back down. “Ugh. This coffee is almost as bad as the station’s sludge.”
Mrs. Scott raised an eyebrow. “But they look so busy?”
“Location is everything. And most of their customers are probably patients’ family, like me, and don’t know any better.” She shrugged, taking another sip. “At least the muffin is decent—if a little dry.”
“I think my son is falling in love with you.”
Heat flamed in Rhiann’s cheeks and she dropped her head, wishing she’d taken her hair down from her normal work up-do simply so that she could hide behind its length.
Patrick’s mom watched her reaction and smiled. Her voice was softer now, kinder. “And if I’m not mistaken you are feeling the same way about him, aren’t you?”
“I—” Rhiann’s reply was interrupted by the buzz of the cell phone in her hand. She jumped up as soon as she read the words on the screen.
Please come to the pediatric surgery desk.
When she looked up Patrick stood just beyond the desk, a wide smile lighting his handsome face.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Patrick
WHEN HE MADE eye contact with Rhiann and smiled, her face went from anxious to relieved. Then she closed the last few steps between them and launched herself into his arms. Sobbing against his chest, she clung to him, barely staying upright.
“Levi’s in Recovery,” he said to the top of her head.
He held her close and murmured reassurances in her ear, telling her that the surgery had gone well and Levi was doing fine. The relief pouring off her was palpable, and seeped down deep into his soul. The tautness that had plagued his muscles since he’d walked into Rhiann’s apartment so many hours ago and seen Levi in such distress dissipated in the warmth of her embrace.
As a surgeon, he didn’t allow himself to dwell on losing his patients. Death was an unfortunate possibility in his line of work, but he didn’t like to think about it. It wasn’t that thinking of it made the likelihood increase, but there was no point tempting fate, right?
Some patients were harder to heal than others. The more damage he saw on the scans, the more his concern rose. Others he never once imagined he might lose. But each new patient was a fresh start—a chance to shake off any disastrous outcomes that had come before. Not that he had a lot of negative outcomes. He was one of the best pediatric cardiologists in the southeast, and that wasn’t an ego thing. He had the success rate to back his claims.
With Levi, though, his nerves had been ragged from the start of surgery. Levi’s wellbeing had become critically important to him. The churning in his stomach hadn’t eased after closing. The lump in his throat that refused to be swallowed hadn’t budged even once Levi had moved to recovery. Only now, when he had Rhiann in his arms, did any of that change.
Pulling her closer, he let his eyes drift shut as a sense of peace washed over him. Her height was perfect for him to rest his cheek on the top of her head. Having Rhiann in his arms shouldn’t feel like coming home, like a balm for his discontented heart, but to say it didn’t would be lying to himself.
As a teen, he’d wanted to be more than friends with Rhiann, but he couldn’t remember ever feeling quite this way about her.
That seemed to be his normal lately. Finding new emotions where there had once just been ice. Contentment where there had been only apathy. Tendrils of want replacing sparks of anger. And he was learning to accept that change was inevitable—particularly when it came to his relationship with Rhiann.
His mother came up behind Rhiann, a hopeful smile on her face and questions filling her eyes. “How is he?” she asked.
Still holding Rhiann, because he couldn’t seem to let her go, he answered, “Levi’s in Recovery. The surgery went well. He’s got a long way to go, but he made it through surgery like a champ. The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours will be the biggest mountain he has to climb.”
His mother let
out a shaky breath. “I’m sure he’ll do great with the two of you at his bedside. If he’s okay for now, then I’ll be back in the morning to check on him. But you call me if you need anything.” She reached out and tucked a loose lock of hair away from Rhiann’s face with a gentle touch. “Either of you.”
Patrick wrapped an arm around his mother and pulled her into a three-way hug with Rhiann. Having a mother like his made him a lucky man.
“Thank you for always coming when I call. I love you, Mom.”
She pinched his cheek like he was five and he tried not to squirm. He loved her, despite her determination to make him die of embarrassment.
“That’s what us moms do.”
With Rhiann still tucked under his arm, he watched as his mother gathered up her things and bustled out of the waiting room with the grace he had always admired about her. She never got flustered, or angry, and he only wished he’d inherited more of her temperament than the more volatile disposition he got from his father.
“So,” he said, looking down at the beautiful woman in his arms. He wiped the tears from her face with his thumbs. “Are you ready to see your son?”
Rhiann nodded.
“Then let’s go.”
Keeping a loose arm around her waist, Patrick led her through the hospital and past a few Employees Only signs. Finally he swiped his ID badge at the back door of the recovery room.
Nudging her into the bathroom along the right-hand side, he said, “Go wash your face first. You don’t want Levi to see you looking like that.”
She brought a hand up to her face. “Is that a subtle way of saying I’m a hot mess?”
“A gorgeous mess.” Even the teary streaks marring her cheeks couldn’t take anything from her beauty. “I’ll be right here.”
A few minutes later Rhiann stepped out, her face freshly scrubbed and her hair now loose and tumbling in thick waves around her shoulders.
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