by Hamel, B. B.
“I could pay for it.”
She gave me a surprised look. “That’s highly inappropriate, Dr. Majors.”
I waved a hand. “I don’t give a damn. That woman’s important and I’m not about to let her get shipped out of here over money.”
“I can’t have a doctor paying for a patient’s care. It raises all sorts of ethical issues.”
“Then assign another doctor to be her primary physician. I’ll step aside and pay her bills.”
She snapped her folder shut. “Absolutely not.”
“Maria—”
“I’m sorry, but no. I won’t allow it.” She narrowed her eyes. “Does this have something to do with her daughter? I saw that she was a patient, and you were assigned to her.”
I looked away and took a few moments to consider how to answer. I knew this would come out sooner or later, and there was nothing wrong with marrying a patient—hell, it happened all the damn time. So long as certain forms were signed and certain procedures were followed, nobody so much as batted an eye.
This was a bad moment to break the news and I knew it, but I wasn’t about to cover it up like I was ashamed of it.
“I married her.”
Maria let out a snort and smiled. “Good one. I’m sure you did.”
I gave her a look and held up my hand. A simple gold wedding band glittered on my left hand. “I’m not joking.”
Her face slowly fell. “You’re really not.”
“We got married yesterday.”
“I had no clue… I didn’t realize… You two knew each other?”
I hesitated a second then shrugged. “It was sudden.”
“Oh. Right. Okay.” I could see her trying to process this information. Her face showed confusion, then temporary anger, then she settled back into her neutral administrator face, trying to exude calm and control. Although I bet she was all fucked up inside right now. That made me smile, at least a little. “I understand why you don’t want to let Mrs. Molloy leave.”
“Linda’s my mother-in-law now,” I said, using her name for the first time, mainly to try it out. “I have to do right by her.”
“Of course. Of course. But you know I can’t let you lead her case anymore?”
I grimaced. I knew this was coming, but I hoped to put it off for a few more days—hoped Linda would wake up by then. “I know that.”
“All right. I’ll start the paperwork for you… for you and your new wife… and huh. Well. I suppose congratulations are in order.”
I gave her a tight smile. “Thank you, Maria.”
“As for Mrs. Molloy’s debt… I suppose we could push it for a few more days.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“But we can’t let her stay forever, you realize.”
“I understand.”
She lingered a moment longer and I felt her studying me. I wondered what was going on in that lizard brain of hers. Probably wondering how much money I was going to cost the hospital, and if I was not a big liability—maybe thinking over my contract and trying to see if she could get rid of me.
Unfortunately, I’m too well liked and she knew it. I had stellar overall numbers, I get fantastic patient reviews, and any other hospital in the region would pay truckloads of cash to bring me onto their team. Even if she thought this was strange, she wouldn’t take it out on me.
Being good at my job had a few perks.
“I’ll leave you be then,” she said, turning on her heels. “Congratulations again.”
“Thank you, Maria. I appreciate your help.”
She nodded, more to herself then anything, then stalked off. I watched her recede down the hall then turned back toward Erica’s Mom—back toward where Linda lay in her bed.
“Sorry about that,” I whispered, as if my mother-in-law could hear through the glass and through her coma. “She means well, I think, but she’s a paper pusher. Don’t worry. I won’t let them kick you out.” I touched the glass then turned away before anyone could see me.
That conversation spun through my head. Maria would spread news of my marriage through the hospital over the next few hours and I knew I’d have a lot of questions to answer, but this was the whole point. I wanted this, because I knew that once everyone got past how sudden and strange this marriage seemed—it would only help my career.
But most of all it would help Erica. I told her a half truth when I said I needed her to marry me in order to get a promotion. It’s true that married men tend to move up faster, but it’s not exactly necessary. They’d never knowingly discriminate like that, and I was sure I could squeeze past the review board without a wife if it came to that.
Fortunately, it wouldn’t, and hopefully I could find a solution and keep Linda in the hospital as long as possible.
12
Erica
I leaned forward on my elbows and stared at my mother, still unmoving, still unresponsive. I felt like I lived my life in two rooms: my small bedroom at Gavin’s place, with my tiny bathroom and my dressers and my closet, and this room, this hospital room with its antiseptic stink and the windows too high to draw in good light and the somewhat dirty floor and the creaking bedframe and the machines, the ever-moving machines and their electric buzz. I felt weak and drained, and the ring on my finger felt heavy.
“I’m not sure what I’m going to do, mom,” I said, staring down at her hands, her wrinkled, bruised hands. Cosimo kept running through my mind, the confrontation between him and Gavin still so fresh and so horrible. What he said scared me more than I expected and some big part of me, some dark and awful part of me wanted to run away. I still wanted to run, but I knew I couldn’t, not with my mother here.
The glass door slid open and I jumped up. I didn’t know what I expected—maybe Cosimo and his goons with guns drawn, ready to murder me for daring to disobey them.
Instead, Fiona held up her palms. “I come in peace.”
I relaxed a bit. “Hey. Sorry. I’m a little jumpy.”
“Sure, I get it.”
I sunk back down into my chair as she came into the room. She checked my mother’s chart, checked the saline bag and changed her urine bag, then leaned back against the wall and looked at me, arms crossed over her chest.
“You look like you had a rough night.”
“I’m not sleeping great,” I admitted.
“Gavin?”
“No.” I shook my head. “What’s with you and him, anyway? You started to tell me something earlier.”
She hesitated. “It happened a few years back. He dated a friend of mine, this girl named Celia. She was sweet, you know, but young and naive, and he used her for sex. Broke her heart too, and was a total bastard afterward, wouldn’t talk to her, wouldn’t even look at her. She felt so awkward and used, she ended up leaving the hospital. I was pretty pissed with him then and he never once apologized or even admitted to doing anything wrong.”
I chewed on my lip and tried to absorb that into my view of Gavin. I could see it, though it was hard. So far he’d done nothing but try to help me, but I could see how a young, hotshot doctor like him might start to think he could take advantage of people, could do whatever he wanted to do. That might include fucking young nurses then fucking them over.
Still, it didn’t sound like him.
“I’m sorry that happened,” I said. “He hasn’t tried anything like that with me.”
“It happened right around the time that his sister died.” She laughed a little and tapped at her chin with a single purple-painted nail. “I assume he told you about that?”
“A little bit.”
“Gruesome story. Fucked up, really.”
“What happened?” I heard his part, but I wanted her to tell me the stuff he left out.
“I only know pieces, so if you want the full story, you have to ask him. But apparently, she married this real abusive guy, and she hid the abuse for years, until one day she tried to leave him and he murdered her for it. Gavin took it really hard, you know?
I think it really messed him up.”
I nodded slowly. “He talked like they were close.”
“Yeah, I think they were. She was really young, a lot younger than him, and he sort of raised her, right? I think his parents are dead.”
“I can’t even imagine.” I stared at my mother than let out a rueful laugh. “Well, maybe I can.”
Fiona was quiet for a second. The room filled with the sound of beeping machines.
“Listen, sweetie,” Fiona said, voice soft. “I need to talk to you about your mother.”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure I want to know.”
“I’m sure you don’t, but you have to listen. Can you listen for a second, okay?”
“Go ahead.”
She took a breath. “It’s about her money.”
I looked back at her, surprised. I figured she was about to tell me that mom would never, ever wake up, or that she was going to die, or that she had brain damage—but money had never occurred to me. “What about it?”
“She doesn’t have insurance.” She spoke softly, words gentle but firm. “You know that, right?”
“I didn’t… we never talked about it.” I frowned a little, shaking my head. “She had a job.”
“Was it full-time?”
I groaned. “No, she went part-time a year ago when she started having back pain and my hours at the restaurant picked up. Oh, my god, I didn’t know that meant she lost her insurance.”
Fiona gave me a pitying look and I wanted to get up and scream. “I’m sorry, hon. I don’t know what the hospital’s going to do, but you should start thinking about it. There are other places she can go, there are at-home care solutions, and a lot of it is state funded. We can figure this out for you.”
I spread my hands out. “I don’t have money. What the hell am I going to do? She’s in a freaking coma. I can’t… I can’t take her out of this.”
“I’m so sorry. I know Gavin’s working on this.”
I chewed my cheek, biting down hard enough to make it hurt to keep myself from crying. “What can he do?”
“I’m not sure, honestly. Maybe something, since you two are married now.”
I let out a laugh. “Married to a doctor and still poor.”
“He’ll help you. I know I have a past with him, but he’s a good person. Losing his sister messed him up, but I think he’s trying.”
I looked back at my mother. “I don’t have a lot of experience with good guys. Dated a few bastards and assholes over the years and none of it ever lasted. It was just me and my mom for a real long time, except when my piece of crap dad decided to show up and ruin things for a few days, or weeks, or months, or however long he stuck around.”
“What was he like? Your dad?”
I shook my head. “He could be funny, but he was an addict. Everything was about his addiction, no matter what.”
“I’m sorry. None of this is fair.”
I snorted and smiled at her. “No, it’s really not.”
She walked over and took my hand. She squeezed it, smiled again, and bent down to hug me. I returned her hug, a little surprised, and it felt good—a small gesture, a little bit of normal human kindness in a place where normal human kindness was somehow turned into a commodity.
The glass door slid open again. Fiona pulled back as Gavin came into the room. He looked between us and I wiped my tears away.
“I can guess what you two were talking about,” he said.
“I thought I’d break the news to her.” Fiona gave him a smile then slipped past and out into the hall. “See you later, Erica.”
I waved a she disappeared back to her station. Gavin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You okay?”
“I think so. Will the hospital kick her out?”
“No, they won’t.” He knelt down next to me. “I won’t let them.”
“What can you do about it?”
“Well, the main administrator, the woman that makes all these decisions—she’s going to let your mom stay for a little while longer.”
“That’s good, but temporary.”
He nodded, looking at the machines whirring. “I’ll pay for the rest.”
“Gavin—”
He held up a hand. “I’ll pay for it.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“They’ll give me a sizable break on the bill, considering they don’t want me to leave the hospital and go somewhere else. And since we’re married, there won’t be any ethical issues, but I won’t be your mother’s primary doctor anymore.”
I shifted in my seat and reached out to him on impulse. I touched his cheek then his arm, and he moved toward me, and I took a sharp breath, smelling his shampoo, the soft scent of his apartment, his clothes, and leaned toward him. He met me the rest of the way, his hand moving along my throat, back to cup my neck, and he pulled me against his lips.
The kiss lasted longer than I thought it would but not nearly as long as I wanted. He tasted like a spring breeze off a lake and bitter tea. I loved it and wanted more, his tongue against mind, his lips soft and firm at the same time, but as quickly as we tumbled into that kiss, he pulled away.
“We shouldn’t, not here.”
I nodded, breathing hard, trying to steady myself. I didn’t want to fall into him like this, didn’t want to get wrapped up in the false narrative of our marriage, didn’t want to begin to believe that there was something more to this story than a man trying to do the right thing. I knew he saw me as a surrogate of his little sister, the girl he failed to protect, and he did all this in an attempt to make up for all of that.
And still I wanted to kiss him again, as crazy as it made me.
“You’re right. My mom might catch us.”
That made him smile. “I made dinner plans for me and you.”
“Tonight?”
“Tonight, with a doctor and his wife. Important people in the hospital.” He gently pulled back and stood. “Will you come with me?”
I nodded. “That’s my job.”
He smiled a little and lingered there. His gaze spoke so many words that I wanted to translate, wanted to turn that gaze and that message into touch, into heat between our bodies, but he turned and walked to the door.
“We’ll leave at eight. I bought you some stuff… well, I hired someone to help me buy you some stuff.”
“Clothes?” I tilted my head at him.
“Clothes, dresses, whatever. You don’t have much.”
“I don’t have money.”
“Right, well, I do.” He nodded at me. “Take advantage of it.”
Without another word, he left.
I sat back in the chair. My head spun and my lips tingled like they’d been touched by peppermint. I wanted to call him back and tell him how much I appreciated all this, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. My eyes drifted to my mother and my mind drifted back to Cosimo, and I knew that dinner with fancy doctors, nice clothes, incredible kisses—none of it mattered while that animal lurked out there, waiting for a single mistake.
Waiting to come out and cut my throat.
13
Gavin
The restaurant was crowded for a weeknight. Men in suits lingered near the bar holding martini glasses and laughing until their pale faces turned red. Erica lingered close to me in a tight black dress that made her look incredible, although I could tell she wasn’t comfortable in it. I’d picked it out specifically to test her boundaries, I was excited she put it on.
The hostess smiled at me and held up a finger as she politely told someone on the phone that a reservation was required and there was a dress code, and could they kindly go fuck themselves please and thank you.
“How can I help?” the hostess asked when she hung up the phone.
“I’m here to meet with Dr. Martin, I believe he’s already been seated.”
The hostess nodded and stepped toward the dining room. “Of course, right this way.”
Erica hurried by my side. “T
his place is crazy,” she said, her voice soft and barely audible over the hum of conversation and the live piano player doing jazz runs in the far corner.
“It’s the sort of spot rich doctors like to take young doctors like me,” I said, giving her a look, “and it’s pretty awful.”
She smiled. “Is the food good?”
“It’s incredible.”
“Then I don’t care how pretentious it is.”
I laughed as the hostess took us to a table at the far side of the room. Dr. Fred Martin and his wife, Agnes, smiled as we approached, and Agnes waved to me, her jowls shaking with vigorous delight. I smiled back and stepped aside to introduce Erica.
“Look at you,” Agnes said, her voice somehow booming over the music. “You’re so gorgeous, no wonder he married you.”
“Thank you,” Erica said, blushing.
Agnes was right, of course: Erica was gorgeous, even more so when she decided to wear something other than long-sleeve t-shirts and sweats. She had an incredible figure and it drove me wild being this close to her, but I put a smile on my face, kissed Agnes on the cheek and got a nose full of her absurdly strong perfume, then shook Fred’s hand.
“Glad you came,” he said.
We got seated, the waitress took our drink order, and Agnes instantly began to pepper Erica with all manner of probing questions. Agnes was the type of doctor’s wife that needed something to talk about, and more often than not her favorite topic of gossip was other doctors’ wives. She had sterling silver hair and preferred gold jewelry at her throat and all over her fingers and wrists. She was an elegant woman and likely was beautiful twenty years ago.
Fred was the head of oncology and one of the more popular doctors at the hospital. I liked him and we worked well together, though we rarely socialized outside of the clinical setting. When our drinks came, I proposed a toast.
“To seeing each other outside of Mercy,” I said, “and may our patients live forever.”
Fred laughed and we drank. Agnes went back to drilling Erica as Fred leaned across the table.
