picked up the desk phone again and dialed his assigned paralegal. “Andy, it’s Matt. I want every piece of information we have on the Boston General case. I also want the security video from the emergency department waiting room and the triage area for the night in question.”
He didn’t wait for a response and hung up immediately. He needed to focus on the case and find the small thread that would lead him to the answer. Would getting the lawsuit dropped win back her trust? He didn’t think so. She wanted something more from him and he didn’t know what that was. He had already confessed to her the truth about his lie and why he had done it, but that hadn’t been enough for her.
Damn, he couldn’t think about the case without thinking about Kate and last night. He pulled at the tie around his neck and ran his fingers through his hair, squeezing the tense muscles at the back of his neck. Even with her preoccupation with Chloe’s illness, it was going to be impossible to stay away from her. Every part of him wanted to be with her again. It wasn’t just the physical desire. It was her letting him hold her that morning in the intensive care unit lounge and for the first time relaxing and not pulling away. It had been a small return to the way they had once been. He passed his hand over his face and straightened his posture. He needed to separate himself physically from her if he had any hope of finding out the truth.
Kate shifted uncomfortably in the bedside chair. It was nine in the evening and the toll of the stress and lack of sleep was building by the hour. She felt new compassion for the family members who “slept” in the chairs every night to be close to their loved ones. Her neck and back ached from the awkward positioning and her heart ached from last night.
So much for closure, she thought to herself. Making love with Matt had done anything but provide closure. It had brought her back to the way they had once been, the way she had once felt, and afterwards she’d had no doubts that she didn’t just love him, she was in love with him. Again. Still.
The monitor rang and a white tape was ejected from the machine. She looked at Chloe and her guilt was enormous. It seemed so wrong to be thinking about Matt when Chloe was lying in the intensive care unit intubated and unconscious while her body slowly recovered from the massive insult it had been dealt.
Her red hair made a sharp contrast to the pale hospital linen and the sterility of the room. Hours earlier Kate had brushed it and braided it to the side, trying to maintain some of her friend’s dignity in such exposing circumstances. Her face, on the other hand, blended in perfectly, her pallor severe despite all the blood she had received. Kate reached out and curled her fingers around Chloe’s. She was surprised at the small twinge she felt in response to the action, a reflex she hadn’t expected yet but was grateful for.
“Chloe, it’s Kate,” she said, though even if Chloe had been conscious she would be physically unable to answer her with the breathing tube in place.
“Chloe, I’m so sorry I let this happen to you. I should have been a better friend to you when you told me you weren’t feeling well, instead of focusing on myself and my problems. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
She understood family members more at that time than she ever had in her career. The ones who asked the same questions over and over again, so much so that she was late every morning on rounds, the ones who pushed and demanded for more testing and intervention than was being recommended, and the ones who never left the building, despite your assurances and recommendations to do so. She understood perfectly now that they did those things out of love, guilt, and fear; all in a desperate attempt to bring that person back to them the way they had once been.
The alarm rang out again and Kate’s focus shifted back to the monitor. Chloe’s heart and respiratory rates were elevated beyond the machine’s set parameters. She was breathing on her own above the ventilator. She looked back and saw Chloe start to move subtly, her head moving back and forth and her arms and hands testing their strength. The alarm had also triggered her one-on-one nurse to come into the room.
“She’s waking up and starting to fight the tube,” the nurse assessed quickly.
“Page the doctor on call and ask him to come and see if she can be safely extubated,” Kate ordered, temporarily forgetting her role as a friend and not as the physician giving orders.
She reached out and stroked Chloe’s hair away from her forehead. “Chloe, it’s Kate. Try to stay calm. You are okay. You are intubated and in the intensive care unit but, I promise you, you are okay. You just need to hold on for a few more minutes and I’m going to see if they will take the tube out. If you start panicking they are just going to give you more drugs and leave it in, so you need to stay calm with me for the next few minutes, okay?”
Kate hadn’t been sure how conscious Chloe was until her eyes slowly opened and they looked remarkably clear, like she had understood every word Kate had spoken. Kate reached out and squeezed her hand, in part as reassurance and in part to prevent Chloe from instinctively reaching for the tube.
She didn’t break eye contact with her for what seemed like hours, but was actually only minutes, before the on-call intensivist arrived.
“Dr. Spence, I’m going to ask you to step out while we go through our extubation check list to make sure it is safe to do so.”
She still didn’t turn to look at the voice, not wanting to break her connection with Chloe. “Chloe, you heard that. I have to leave for a few minutes while they evaluate you. No room for big dumb surgeons on these occasions. I’m not going to be far away, though, and I’ll be back here as soon as they let me, okay?”
She waited for a sign of understanding and felt relieved as Chloe slowly moved her head up and down on the pillow. She squeezed her hand one last time and then let go, leaving the room quickly before she changed her mind and tried to force them to let her stay.
Back in the family waiting room she dug into her bag for her cell phone. She needed to call Tate and tell him about the change in Chloe’s condition.
“Tate Reed,” he answered instantly, as though his phone had never left his hand.
“It’s me. I was just with Chloe and she has regained consciousness and is looking appropriate to extubate. They kicked me out, but the ICU doctor is with her now, so I’m hopeful that they’ll take the tube out and she’ll be well enough to leave the ICU.”
“Is she in pain?” he asked, and Kate was impressed that he seemed to have more surgical sense than she did. She had almost forgotten about the six-inch incision that spanned Chloe’s abdomen and which had remained well covered beneath the bed’s sheets.
“No, Tate, she didn’t seem to be in any pain. She actually seemed just like Chloe, surprisingly beautiful and understanding, even intubated with all the other tubes and wires all around.”
“When do you think we can see her?”
“I think these things take about an hour by the time they assemble all the equipment and appropriate staff in case she doesn’t do well. But I really don’t think she is going to run into a problem.”
“I have to start another case in the operating room and it’s too late to find someone to cover for me. Can you let me know how she is as soon as you see her again?” Tate was a meticulous and in-control surgeon. He had to be. As a vascular surgeon, his target was everything from the largest to the smallest of blood vessels, with many of his cases being the difference between life and death.
“Of course, but, Tate, I’m really sure she is going to be okay. It’s Chloe. I mean, who else goes directly from work to the intensive
