by K Carothers
The Neonatal Intensive Care Unit team arrived a moment later with an incubator, and Dr. Sam Coleman, the neonatologist, rushed over to her. “What have you got, Erin?”
She filled him in while he did a brief exam on the baby boy, who was now demonstrating a very healthy set of lungs.
“Everything’s looking good for the moment,” Sam said. “We’ll take him up to the NICU for further evaluation.”
A neonatal nurse placed the baby in the incubator and several members of the team rolled him out.
Sam looked back one last time. “Great job, Erin. Unbelievable job.” He glanced grimly at the scene behind her, then rushed out of the room with his team.
Erin turned around, already knowing what she was going to find.
“I’m sorry,” Peter said solemnly. “We couldn’t save her.”
Erin looked at the dead woman who would never get to hold her baby boy, then glanced at the faces of the staff members standing around the bed. Most were crying silently. A few couldn’t hold back a sob. The surgical residents were at a loss, faces stricken with grief and shock.
She lowered her eyes to the blood-soaked gloves that still covered her hands, and her mind shifted to the familiar place in her brain that was devoid of emotion, where only logic and reason prevailed—the place that kept her sane. She’d needed that place more times than she could count in her life. “Unfortunately, we need to move on,” she said quietly, peeling off her surgical gown and gloves and throwing them away. “We have other patients who need us.”
She slipped into her white coat again. But as she turned to leave, Peter grabbed her arm. “Erin—”
She pulled free of him, not daring to look back. “I have work to do, Peter.”
She left the room, trying to erase the scene inside from her mind. She’d seen death often, too often, in her thirty-two years. It was never easy to deal with in any form. But this one struck a particularly painful chord inside her. This one was personal.
* * *
Erin dumped her pile of paperwork into the out-basket with a weary sigh. So much for going paperless. She sat in a back office near the ER, where things were now eerily quiet after such an eventful day. Her dictations were done, and another disaster was finally in the books. Of course, it would never be over for some.
Laura…That was the name of the woman whose baby she’d delivered today. Erin had been the one to give Laura’s family the heartbreaking news of her death, watching as the hope on their faces turned to utter despair and grief. In medical school they’d had lectures on how to give bad news. But she’d already learned that nothing made those moments any easier. And when Laura’s brother had asked if it would have made a difference if she’d been wearing a seat belt, Erin had felt almost as bad telling him the truth—it might have. Unfortunately, pregnant women often didn’t wear one because of the mistaken belief that it wasn’t safe for the baby. And a significant number of those who did had never been instructed on how to position it correctly during pregnancy. Laura’s husband had said she was on her way to an OB appointment when the accident happened. Maybe they would have reminded her then. She’d probably been thinking about her baby while she was driving. Did she know she was going to have a boy?
Erin let out another sigh and pulled her long, sandy blond hair free of the ponytail that had held it in place all day, tossing the elastic band onto her desk. She needed to go home. She just had one last stop to make before she could.
There was a rap on her office door, and she looked up. Dean Monahan, the hospital CEO, popped his head through the partially open door. She knew his face from pictures and an occasional meeting but had never talked to him in person before. “Do you have a moment, Dr. Pryce?”
“Of course.” Erin was surprised he knew her name. She stood up and motioned to a chair next to the desk. “Have a seat.” She sat down again after him and smiled wearily. “Should I be worried? It’s not every day the hospital CEO tracks someone down in their office.”
Dean shook his head, fatigue written all over his face as well. “What a day…”
Erin nodded, and for a moment silence fell heavily between them. There were just some things that couldn’t be expressed in words.
“I heard you did an amazing job,” Dean finally said. “Things wouldn’t have gone as well without you. And it took real courage to go in and save that baby like you did.”
“Some would argue that I shouldn’t have done anything,” Erin quietly responded, lowering her eyes to the desk. “We were dealing with a mass casualty incident. There were so many other seriously injured patients at that point, and our resources were spread so thin…It could easily have turned out that I spent them on two dead patients.” She’d gone over that again and again in her mind. But in the end she knew she wouldn’t have done anything differently, regardless of the outcome. Not when there had still been hope. “As it is, there’s now a little boy in the NICU who has no mother.”
“But he has life. You gave him the greatest gift he will ever get—a chance to live.”
Erin said nothing, running her long fingers over the smooth wooden surface of the desk. The subject brought up too many emotions for her, exposed too many scars. She preferred to keep them hidden, so she said nothing.
Dean studied her thoughtfully. “In my experience almost anyone else would be patting themselves on the back right now. You made a tough decision today, one most doctors will never have to make, and you saved a child’s life. You’re the best we have here at Boston General.” He paused a moment, then said, “I understand you turned in your resignation a few months ago. What can we do to keep you here?”
Erin looked up at him in shock. He was the CEO of one of the largest and most reputable hospitals on the East Coast, and here he was in her office, asking her to stay.
“I’ve made some inquiries,” Dean continued. “I gather you turned in your resignation because of some, uh, issues with your ex-husband?”
There it was, another scar she preferred to keep hidden. “I just think a change of scenery will be the best thing for me right now, that’s all.”
“What if we were to revoke Peter’s privileges here? If I have to make a choice, I’ll choose you, Dr. Pryce. No question.”
Erin couldn’t help but feel a little thrill of pleasure go through her with his words. He would probably send Peter’s mistress over in the ICU on her merry way too, if she asked. She imagined them walking out of the hospital together with their personal effects and pink slips. There was definitely some satisfaction in that thought. But she let it go. “I truly appreciate the offer, Dean. And I’m sure I won’t find a better place to work than Boston General. But this really isn’t about Peter, so I have to stick to my decision.”
“Are you planning to stay in Boston?” he asked.
“Yes. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Although I’ve been thinking about moving west into the suburbs, just to get a little more space.”
Dean chuckled. “Please don’t tell me Wellesley is luring you away. I play racquetball with their CEO every Friday, and I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“No, I don’t think I’ll go quite that far west,” Erin tentatively replied. “But I haven’t made a final decision yet.” Several hospitals in the area were waiting for her to make that decision. And it was one she really needed to make soon, with only two weeks left at Boston General. But she kept putting it off. The truth was, she was coming to the realization that she needed a break far more than she needed a new job. It was time to take inventory of her life, and the thought scared her. She knew she wasn’t going to like what she found—or didn’t find.
She’d spent most of the last year buried in her work, trying not to think about anything else, trying not to feel anything. It was hard to believe that just last spring, barely a year ago, she’d still been trying to have a baby herself—until she’d come home from work early
one day, sick with the flu, and caught her husband in bed with an ICU nurse from Boston General. So much for getting the flu shot.
She’d left him that day and never looked back, turning to the one true love of her life—medicine. But now she was exhausted, the kind of exhaustion that sleep couldn’t cure. She really did need to take a break and figure things out. Something was dying inside of her.
Dean stood up. “Well, let me know if there’s anything I can do to change your mind, Dr. Pryce. We’d love to keep you here at Boston General. But in any case, I need to get back to my office. There’s still a lot of mess to clean up after today.” He shook her hand. “Good luck to you, whatever you decide.”
Erin expressed her thanks and watched him leave. Then she picked up her bag and headed out the door herself to make that last stop.
* * *
He slept so peacefully one would never know he’d just come into the world in such a traumatic way. He lay on his back, all bundled up in a blue blanket, with one tiny hand nestled against his cheek. The mitten that was supposed to be on it to protect him from scratching his face had come off and lay next to him. Erin smiled. He was already bucking the system.
She continued to watch him sleep for a while. She never tired of watching babies sleep. If the ER hadn’t turned out to be such a good fit for her she would have gone into neonatology. Babies are that little bit of innocence not yet disturbed by the world. And she’d wanted one so desperately…But she needed to stop thinking about that. Every time her thoughts led her in that direction a piece of her never came back.
She lightly caressed the top of the baby’s hand, and then couldn’t resist the urge to hold it, gently lifting it up off his cheek. Dr. Coleman thought he was going to be fine. There were no signs of brain damage on his exam, and the scans had all looked good. They’d gotten him out just in time.
“I’m so sorry we couldn’t save your mother,” she whispered softly. “It’s not going to be easy living without her.” She knew that all too well.
The baby stirred slightly and wrapped his little fingers around one of hers, holding on tightly while he continued to sleep. A lump of emotion formed in Erin’s throat, and her green eyes moistened. I am not going to cry, she willed herself. She remembered she used to say that all the time as a child, until one day she did stop.
“Erin.”
She looked up and inwardly sighed when she saw Peter standing on the other side of the bed. She’d managed to avoid the man for months since their divorce, and now here he was again, twice in the same day. She regretfully let go of the baby’s hand, slid the little blue mitten back on, and tucked the blanket snugly around him.
“I’ve been looking for you,” Peter said. “One of the nurses told me you were here.” He nervously ran a hand through his black hair and glanced down at the infant. “I understand he’s doing well.”
Erin took one last look at the sleeping baby, then headed toward the NICU exit without a word. Peter followed her anyway, and she didn’t miss the speculative glances from the nursing staff. “Aren’t you in the wrong ICU?” she asked dryly.
Peter grimaced. “Okay, I deserve that.”
He deserved a whole lot more than that. But she didn’t say it, just like she hadn’t said so many other things, and they walked through the NICU in awkward silence.
“I’ve never done a perimortem C-section myself,” Peter finally said. “It’s kind of ironic that between the two of us it would be you who’d do one first.”
“I’d hardly call it ironic that I did one first, Peter. In the ER I have to be prepared to do just about anything.” Erin couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of her voice when she added, “But as far as real irony goes, there was certainly no lack of that in our relationship—when there was a relationship, that is.”
Yes, the ironies…Like how she’d ultimately decided to marry him three years ago because she’d wanted a baby. She wasn’t about to go the illegitimate route, as her mother had done. But then it turned out she was probably the only obstetrician’s wife in all of New England who couldn’t get pregnant.
And irony had definitely been in full bloom that day last spring when she’d been too sick to finish an ER shift for the first time in her life and had gone home early, only to find him in bed with a nurse. They’d been going at it like they were trying to rip each other apart, no less. She would never have guessed he was capable of such…enthusiasm. He’d certainly never displayed that kind of passion with her. Although if she was painfully honest, she knew she hadn’t exactly given him much to be inspired about in the bedroom.
They left the NICU and Peter grabbed hold of her arm in the hallway, holding on tightly when she tried to pull away. “Please, Erin. I need to talk to you.”
“Let go of me, Peter!” she vehemently whispered.
After a brief hesitation, he dropped his hand with a sigh. “I really am sorry about everything that’s happened between us. I…I wish I’d done a lot of things differently.”
Erin was surprised to hear the note of regret in his voice, and wondered if things weren’t going so well between him and his mistress. “It doesn’t matter,” she said wearily. “I don’t think we were meant to be together anyway.”
Peter gazed at her for a long moment, then softly said, “It’s always blown me away how you could be so smart and so beautiful at the same time.”
Erin blinked in astonishment. He’d never said anything like that to her before. They’d always treated each other more like colleagues than husband and wife. And she realized with even more surprise that she would have liked hearing those words back then. But she certainly didn’t want to hear them now. The only thing she wanted now was to end this conversation as quickly as possible and leave. She needed fresh air. Not to mention someone was probably already telling his girlfriend in the ICU what was going on here in the hallway. Neither of them was worth making a scene over. “I really need to go home, Peter. Goodbye—and good luck with your girlfriend.”
With that she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there alone, watching her go.
Chapter
2
Peter still wanted her. She’d seen it in his eyes…
Erin sat down heavily on the living room sofa in her South Boston apartment and dropped her head back against the brown leather cushion with a sigh. So much had happened today, so many old wounds ripped wide open. And to top it off, Peter still wanted her.
Apparently he wasn’t getting enough intensive care from his nurse. Erin smiled wryly at the thought and reached for the glass of Merlot she’d set on the coffee table in front of her. But all humor faded from her expression as she sipped the wine and thought about her years with Peter.
She’d been attracted to him once, with his tall, dark good looks. He was also an excellent physician and a gifted surgeon. She’d admired those qualities more than anything. But he didn’t have the same appeal anymore, now that she’d seen such a different side of his personality. Funny how that worked.
They’d met at Boston General when she was an intern and he was a fourth year OB/GYN resident. She’d hardly ever dated before him, preferring to focus on her studies at Harvard. Math and science had always been her strong suits. She understood things she could define, preferred what was logical and concrete. The abstract was a challenge. And relationships fell into that abstract category for her. She’d never been good at them.
Life with Peter had been fairly uncomplicated, though, up until the end. He’d never been one to ask a lot of questions or invade her space. And with him she’d thought she could have the two things she really wanted—a new name and babies.
The first had been easy, of course. Changing her name from Harris to Pryce had felt like she was leaving another big piece of her past behind, as she’d worked so hard to do otherwise. Hearing her maiden name still made her cringe.
But the baby part, tha
t was where things had gone wrong. She’d married Peter after her third year of ER residency, when her schedule had finally eased up a little. They’d started trying for a baby right away, and then continued trying for the next two years without any luck. Her period came like clockwork every month, and she’d eventually come to dread that time. She had been late once, and for a moment she’d never been so happy, thinking she was finally pregnant. But then she’d taken a test, and the negative result had cut especially deep.
They’d finally begun a fertility work-up, and when Peter’s tests came back normal she’d known with devastating certainty that she was the problem. That wound had left yet another scar.
Erin wearily sighed and looked down at the now empty wineglass in her hand. Maybe she’d break her one glass rule and have another. She certainly deserved it tonight. But she knew she wouldn’t. She was too good at maintaining control.
She set the glass back down on the coffee table and reluctantly stood up. She needed to go to bed and at least try to sleep. She had another twelve-hour shift to get through tomorrow—and the next day. And the day after that.
Wincing at the thought, she headed to her bedroom. But she abruptly stopped when she heard the faint vibration of her cell phone in the kitchen where she’d left it. She looked up at the clock and saw it was almost midnight. Someone really wanted to talk to her. It was probably a resident or another attending at the hospital with a question about how to treat a patient. She was used to getting calls like that at just about any hour. She had a reputation for always answering—and for always having the right answer when she did. But tonight she needed someone else to have the right answer, so she started walking to the bedroom again.
She didn’t make it very far, though. With a defeated groan she turned and headed to the kitchen instead. It just wasn’t in her nature to ignore someone who needed help.
The phone was still buzzing when she picked it up off the counter, and she looked down at the screen to see who was calling this time. Jenna. She blinked in surprise and immediately answered. “Jen, hello.”