Grievous Sin. Faye Kellerman

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Grievous Sin - Faye  Kellerman

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      “Rina’s hemorrhaging was quite severe; her blood pressure was beginning to drop precipitously. We had no choice but to operate. Once we did, we found out what the problem was. The placenta had grown through the uterus, and that’s what caused all the hemorrhaging. I’m sorry to tell you this, Peter, but Rina had a hysterectomy.”

      His words hung in the air. Decker was too stunned to respond. The room suddenly seemed to take on motion, walls pulsating, the bookshelves undulating. Nausea crept from his stomach to his throat. He swallowed to keep from retching and covered his mouth with his hand.

      Hendricks fiddled with the chart. “I know this must be quite a shock to you—”

      “Couldn’t you just have cut it out?” Decker blurted. “The placenta … couldn’t you have surgically removed it?”

      “No—”

      “You had to take the whole uterus out?”

      “Yes.”

      “I don’t understand—”

      “Peter—”

      “I mean, isn’t that what surgery is? Cutting things out? Cutting selective things out?”

      Hendricks didn’t answer.

      Decker said, “I just don’t understand why …”

      “Peter,” Hendricks said softly, “her placenta was like an open hose of blood. The more I tried to remove it, the more she bled. I had no option whatsoever. I know how Rina feels about children. I delivered Samuel and Jacob, and I held her hand after all three of her miscarriages—”

      “I thought she miscarried because her husband was so sick. That’s what she told me.”

      Hendricks was silent.

      “No?” Decker’s voice sounded desperate.

      “Peter,” Hendricks began, “who knows why she miscarried? Needless to say, I was delighted when she carried this baby to term. Throughout this ordeal, please try to remember, she did give birth to a beautiful little girl. You have a healthy daughter. Good heavens, I know Rina wanted a slew of children. And this is going to hit her very hard. That’s why I asked you how close you are to her sons. Some men get idiotic with the idea of having a boy—”

      “No …” Decker shook his head. “No, it’s not a problem.” He felt his eyes go wet and shut them a moment. When he opened them, the horror hadn’t gone away. “What … what do I say …?”

      “I’ll tell her. That’s my job.”

      Again Decker shook his head. “I can do it.”

      “Peter, I’m sure in your line of work, you have had to deliver a fair share of bad news. Let me be the bad guy.”

      “No, I can’t … I can do it.” Decker looked down, then looked up. “When should I tell her?”

      Hendricks sighed loudly. “If you insist on doing this, I suggest you mention it to her as soon as she has some of her strength back. I’ll let you know when her blood count stabilizes.”

      Decker lowered his head and nodded.

      “She’s a strong woman, Peter. She’s going to recover very quickly. The actual operation was … God, how do I say this without sounding like an insensitive jerk?” Hendricks paused. “The operation itself was routine. Rina’s ovaries were left intact, so hormonally, she’ll be as regulated as any other woman her age. And she’ll be able to nurse. Just as soon as she’s stabilized, she’ll recover in a snap.”

      “I love her so much,” Decker whispered. “She’s going to be devastated.”

      “And you?”

      “Truthfully, I’m not feeling too good, Doc.” Again Decker dragged his hand over his face. “But I’ll be fine. It’s Rina …”

      “It’s a loss, Peter,” Hendricks said. “Not like a death of a baby, thank God—” He caught himself. “You already went through that with your first wife, didn’t you?”

      Decker nodded.

      “That must have been hell. This is hell, too. Something you both are going to grieve over. There’s no getting around it. If you’re determined to tell her yourself, I won’t stop you. But if you need anything, pick up the phone, call the exchange, and say it’s an emergency. I’m here for both of you. For Rina and you and for the family—the boys, the grandparents. Just give me a call.”

      All Decker could do was nod.

      “I’ve ordered a cot for you next to Rina.” Hendricks stood. “Try to get some rest, all right?”

      “Thank you.” Slowly, Decker got to his feet. “I’ve got to talk to my daughter.”

      “It can wait until the morning.”

      “I want to do it now.”

      “Peter, it can wait.” Hendricks put his arm around Decker’s shoulder. “Go to sleep. Doctor’s orders.”

      “I’ve got to tell Rina’s parents—”

      “Don’t tell them anything before you’ve told Rina.”

      “No, not this.” Decker was finding it hard to talk, hard to speak without choking. “I promised I’d call them as soon as Rina was out of recovery … tell them she’s okay. They must be worried sick.”

      Hendricks turned out the lights. “I’ll call them for you. Give me the number.”

      It took Decker a few seconds to remember the order of the digits. “You’ll tell them Rina’s doing okay?”

      “Yes, I will. Because Rina is recovering well.” Hendricks pulled out keys from his pants and locked the door. “Come on. I’ll walk you back to the ICU.”

      Decker didn’t argue. He felt like a child being put to bed. He didn’t want to go, but he was just too exhausted to protest.

       8

      Cindy woke up with a start, her body pinched from sleeping in a chair. Beside her was Hannah’s layette, the baby lying on her stomach, eyes closed, the little pink face molded into the mattress. It had been almost three hours, and Hannah hadn’t uttered a peep. A big kid, her birth weight almost nine pounds, she probably had a bigger stomach than most of the other infants. Good for her and lucky for Rina. Hannah would probably sleep through the night at an early age.

      The wall clock said 1:05, and Cindy assumed it was A.M. For how brightly lit the nursery was, it could have been P.M. Kind of like the Vegas casino she had visited a year ago—a fixed internal environment that scorned the passage of time. She stood and stretched and crossed over the yellow line to the nurses’ station. Through the glass, Cindy could see Darlene talking

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