by Penn Gates
“Thanks,” Lisa says with a weak smile. “I also need a mask.”
She hates the fact that Holden’s presence feels so reassuring. She has years of experience working in ERs and surgical units. She doesn’t need to borrow a cup of confidence from anybody. But, she’s still glad he’s here next to her.
Lisa notices Cash watching her as she stuffs her wild hair under the surgical cap.
“Is she gonna be all right?” His question is barely audible.
“The baby’s heart beat is a bit fast, but it’s strong. Nix’s pulse is reedy.” Lisa smiles reassuringly. “She needs a little help, that’s all. You did right to come and get me.”
Cash acknowledges Lisa’s words with a quick jerk of his head. He gestures towards the Mennonite girl. “Speakin’ of help - This here is Margaret. She’s the closest thing we have to a doctor. She can give you a hand.”
Seeing the doubt on Lisa’s face, he adds, “Margaret sewed me up when I got shot - if it wasn’t for her, I’d be deader than a doornail.”
“All right.” Lisa points toward Holden. “The corporal will get you a gown and mask. And some surgical gloves.”
“Frau Doktor,” Margaret says under her breath. “The baby is turned the wrong way - it is a breech. I am sorry I was unable to turn it.”
Lisa pulls the Mennonite girl to one side. “Margaret, I’m going to need to do a C-section. Do you know what that is?”
Margaret nods gravely. “I have a cousin who had one.”
Lisa sees the steely resolve in the girl’s posture. Obviously she knows her way around a woman in labor, but abdominal surgery is a lot different than a a normal birth - or a gunshot wound.
She has to ask one last time. “Margaret - are you absolutely sure you can do this?”
“I mean no disrespect, Frau Doktor, but we need to be hurrying. There is no time to waste.”
Hatfield is kneeling by the side of the bed again. He whispers something to Nix. She tries to smile, but instead her face contorts with pain.
“Cash, I need you to leave now,” Lisa says as she injects sedative into the IV line. “In a moment, Nix will be out like a light, and it will be over before you know it.”
Lisa’s hand flies out to stop Holden as he starts to follow Cash.
“Not you. I need you to be the anesthesiologist.” At his expression, she adds, “I’ll have the meds lined up and signal you. If she needs more anesthetic, I’ll signal. All you have to do is stick a needle into that plastic line and push the plunger really slow - until I tell you to stop.”
Holden looks nervous, for just a second. “I’m not sure I’m ready for my own surgical specialty.” But he quickly dons a gown and surgical mask.
Lisa smiles wanly. She has her own secret fear - she’s never done a Caesarian. She picks up the scalpel and lowers it to Nix’s bulging belly. Sweat runs down her face, but a hand dabs it away with a bit of gauze. She’s vaguely aware that Ed Holden is at the other end of the hand, but she can’t look up from what she’s doing for even a split second.
It seems several lifetimes before she hands the newborn to Margaret and begins the process of putting Nix back together. She has just a moment to see the smile in the Mennonite girl’s eyes and answer it with one of her own.
CHAPTER 16: Losing Blood
Lisa steps into the upstairs hall, so tired she’s unaware that she still wears her blood-smeared surgical gown. She pulls the mask from her face and takes a huge gulp of air before she realizes Cash is staring at her surgical gloves covered in his wife’s blood. She peels them off, hiding them behind her back. This is why I’m in research, she thinks yet again. No idea at all how to interact with a patient’s family.
Someone takes the gloves from her clenched fist. A couple of quick tugs on the ties of the surgical gown, and it falls loosely from her shoulders. She shakes it off her arms and quickly passes it back to Holden.
She manages a smile with the last bit of strength she has. “Nix came through with flying colors,” Lisa tells Cash. “And you’re the father of a very healthy baby boy. I’d estimate his weight as close to 10 pounds.” She holds out her hand. “Congratulations.”
Lisa watches Cash almost buckle at the knees before he gets control of himself. “That woman never has done things halfway,” he says in a hoarse voice. “Can I see her?”
“It’ll be just another few minutes. Margaret’s getting her cleaned up.” Lisa suddenly feels like her own legs are made of rubber. “Do you suppose I might have a cup of coffee?” she asks faintly.
As if by magic, a pale blonde copy of Nix emerges from the stairwell lugging a large enamelware coffee pot. Behind her, a younger Mennonite girl - probably yet another Shirk - balances a tray of mugs and a pitcher of milk.
Lisa’s vision is blurred from eyestrain and fatigue, but as the blonde girl comes closer she can see that there’s no actual family resemblance - though it’s painfully obvious the girl is trying hard to look like Nix. Her hair is chopped short and raggedy - and she’s actually wearing too-large farmer’s overalls over a plaid flannel shirt. To Lisa, she looks young and silly - but she’s also very pretty.
“Let me help you with that,” Holden says, appearing from wherever he’s been for the past couple of minutes. He moves quickly to the blonde’s side.
“Ya’ll can cart that back down to the dinin’ hall and settle these folks somewhere comfortable to drink their coffee,” Hatfield orders. “Nix needs peace and quiet.”
The blonde looks crestfallen. “Sorry, Cash,” she says in a little girl voice.
Holden takes the heavy pot from her. “Lead the way,” he says with a big smile.
“Tell everyone I’ll be down after I get a chance to see Nix and the baby,” Cash calls as their heads disappear from view.
“Watch out for Brittany,” Cash mutters to Lisa. “She never met a fella she didn’t like.”
Lisa lifts her chin. “I beg your pardon?”
“Sorry - somehow I got the idea you two were a - uh - team.”
“We are a team - but we’re certainly not an item,” she says, hoping those eagle eyes don’t see how flustered she is at the suggestion. And angry at herself for noting Holden’s enthusiasm in the first place.
“Holden can do whatever he likes,” she adds. “God knows he deserves it after the last year.”
Cash drops the subject. He has more important things on his mind than her relationship with the corporal. He turns and disappears behind the heavy oak door. The elation Lisa has been feeling after the success of the surgery collapses like an overdone soufflé.
The core of competence she counts on in her work has never extended to social skills. She was taught etiquette as a child, of course, but she’s never really gotten the hang of making friends easily. Outside of a lab or surgical suite, interactions with other people mostly leave her with a confused, lonely feeling.
“I did it,” she whispers. “Three cheers for me.”
The big oak door opens behind her. “You are looking worn out already, Frau Doktor,” Margaret says with sympathy. “Come with me - I made a baumkuchen this morning.” She smiles ruefully. “There is a small chance there may be some left - let us go see.”
LISA ENTERS THE LARGE room she’d barely noticed earlier. A wood stove, with its door open, throws a flickering light over a floor made of old pavers. The slight variation in the size and surface of each brick creates ever-changing shadows. For an instant, the floor seems to ripple, reminding her of the night of Ezra’s death, and she feels slightly queasy.
She tears her eyes away from the illusion and focuses on the mellow glow of a half dozen lanterns. Each of them bathes the faces of those seated around it in a soft light. Lisa feels herself relax into the illusion of another time. But the peace and quiet of that moment is just one of those inexplicable pauses, when everyone in the room seems to take a breath at the same time. Then the voices of a dozen young men full of high spirits break the silence again like a tidal wave of sound.
Some of them have football jerseys - another instance of wearing what you can find until you find something better? But even in the dim light, Lisa can see that all their jerseys are the same. Were these guys already a team when they arrived at this place? And how did that happen?
Lisa sinks into a chair where it’s quiet - at least, quieter - but the babble of conversation punctuated by laughter is still very much present. It reminds her of an English pub where she and Roger had passed a pleasant evening on their first vacation together. She smiles to herself as she remembers a drunken Brit who’d crawled under a table and passed out. Roger had been disgusted, while she’d been amused. She sighs. Uninhibited behavior has always had a secret attraction for her.
As if on cue, an inane giggle interrupts Lisa’s thoughts. The blonde copy of Nix sits at another table with Holden. She’s flirting with the corporal, while obviously keeping an eye on the other young men to see if they notice. How much male attention can one girl need? Lisa wonders sourly.
Holden watches Lisa from across the room and hopes she’ll be done with her coffee soon. He’s sitting with the cute blonde, and he’s made sure anyone who notices will think he’s putting the moves on her while he’s been counting how many able-bodied guys there are at the St Clair farm. They’re full of high spirits tonight, but he senses that most of them could handle themselves in a fight.
The corporal notices immediately when Hatfield enters the room. The boisterous crowd immediately rushes forward and hoists him onto their shoulders, ignoring his protests.
“Hit it, boys!” one of them yells. The kid is easily several inches over six foot. With his blonde hair and startling blue eyes, he looks like a young Viking.
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, ” they begin to bellow, “Happy birthday, baby daddy, happy birthday to you!”
“That was truly crap!” Cash roars over the laughter, as he reaches out and knuckle-rubs the head of the closest guy. Finally he yells over the sound of everyone talking at once, “Put me down before I puke all over ya!”
As soon as they set him on his feet, a young man grabs Cash’s hand and shakes it with the enthusiasm of a puppy. “Congrats, Cash - can’t wait to see the baby.”
“Thanks, Bob - but it’s probably gonna be a few days.”
A kid wearing a battered cowboy hat is right behind him. “How does it feel to be a dad?” he asks, moving Cash’s hand up and down like it’s a pump handle.
Cash grins as he reclaims his arm. “I’ll let ya know tomorrow, Colt - if I survive the night.”
“He should be damn good at being a daddy by now - he’s been practicing on us for the last year,” another male voice calls loudly.
“Hell, Terry, that was no daddy who trained me,” the blonde giant quips. “That was a drill sergeant!”
They all have their turn shaking hands and trying to top each others’ comments. The hero worship in this place can be cut with a knife, Holden thinks, and wonders what Hatfield did to earn it.
“Guys!” Cash shouts above the din. “Listen up!”
The room falls silent.
“This here’s been great, but I’m afraid ya’ll need to shut down the celebration now. Five AM comes mighty quick.”
As the team disappears like magic, Cash drops into a chair next to Lisa. “Hey Brit - any of that coffee left?” Been a long time since I’ve had a swallow of anythin’ wet.”
The girl immediately jumps up and rushes into the kitchen without another glance at Holden.
“She almost seems afraid of you,” Lisa comments with satisfaction and then flushes, glad for the dim light. “Sorry - I’m exhausted, and my social filters aren’t working very well.”
“She knows I don’t like her,” Cash says bluntly.
“Why is that?” Lisa asks, as always led by her curiosity.
“Too complicated to explain.”
Lisa wonders what’s put a damper on his euphoric mood of a minute ago. She reaches for her cup, but the coffee is as cold as the question Cash asks just as she takes a sip.
“Did ya’ll think I wouldn’t check the boxes you left upstairs?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Which is true - but Lisa’s not too tired to realize that Hatfield is making an accusation. “Perhaps you’d care to tell me what you think I did?”
“I’m talkin’ about the used gloves and such hidden under the supplies. You know - the ones with Nix’s blood all over ‘em.”
Lisa involuntarily glances in Holden’s direction. He’s already looking at her and Hatfield, and his expression tells her that he knows what’s going on - she’s being blamed for something he did.
“I ain’t forgettin’ you saved Nix’s life - and the baby’s,” Hatfield says. “But we’re not payin’ the debt with St Clair blood.”
Anger boosts Lisa to her feet. “You don’t owe me a damn thing!” she snaps. “Although some common courtesy would be nice.”
Holden is across the room in a few long strides. “What’s going on?” he growls, reaching her side.
“The boys brought your boxes down - they’re by the door,” Cash says, and he doesn’t sound friendly. “Don’t forget ‘em when you leave.”
“Sure thing,” Holden answers and turns to Lisa. “You ready?”
But Lisa isn’t about to be hustled out the door until she’s finished her business. “I’ll come back in a few days to check on Nix,” she says to Cash. “In the meantime, keep her in bed. If she exerts herself, the stitches might not hold.” She smiles, but there’s no answering smile from him. “If there are any problems, you know where to find me. ”
“Don’t stick around on our account,” Hatfield says. “Margaret can handle things just fine.” He shifts his attention to Holden. “Ya’ll best be on your way. Maybe you’ll find what you’re lookin’ for somewhere else.”
Once in the truck, there’s total silence - until Lisa can’t stand it any more. “You hid the bloody gloves in a box, and he found them!”
“I did,” Holden agrees. “Because I knew there was zero chance you’d do it.”
Lisa is rendered speechless by the contradictions she feels at his naked admission. In her fierce focus on saving Nix and her baby, the thought of blood samples had not once entered her mind. At the same time, the loss of what Holden’s presence of mind might have gained for their common enterprise is a devastating blow. As is the knowledge that she would have used what he’d stolen gladly, even while condemning his deception.
He shakes his head. “Can you believe that guy? His wife almost died, and the first thing he does when he steps into that room is search through the surgical stuff.”
But Lisa is conflicted. “I saved her life - she would have started to trust me in time - I know she would. I could have gotten what I wanted from her without stealing it!”
“Yeah, you’re right - we got all the time in the world.”
The silence is heavy on the trip back to Hamlin. The hum of the tires on the pavement is hypnotic - or maybe she’s running on empty. As much as Lisa wants to hold onto her outrage, she can’t summon the energy to maintain a grip.
Within minutes, her eyes close. As she hovers in that space between awake and asleep, her tired brain flashes multiple images, like the split screen on a cable news show. The bloody tension of the surgery. The St Clair farmhouse and its aura of the nineteenth century. Brittany - looking like a Barbie doll whose hair was chopped off by a spoiled little girl. Margaret, with her gentle voice and manner - who begins to heal others as soon as she speaks. She feels her muscles relaxing.
Holden pulls the truck behind the school and switches off the engine. He doesn’t waste this chance to study the sleeping doctor. She looks younger somehow, more vulnerable. She cries out in her sleep, fearful of whatever she’s dreaming about. He’s got to wonder - how many opportunities would a virologist come across to perform a C-section before tonight? Not many to none, he thinks. And yet she kept it together like a champ, even though it cou
ld easily have gone sideways.
She’s way tougher than she looks - but everybody needs taking care of once in awhile. He fights the impulse to brush a loose curl from her cheek. Instead he touches her shoulder lightly.
As soon as she feels his hand, her body tenses and she’s wide awake. “What’s wrong?” she gasps.
“Relax, would you?” he says quietly. “We’re home.”
Holden starts transferring boxes back to the supply truck kept in the bus garage.
Lisa wants nothing more than to find what passes for her bed these days and fall back to sleep, but after all that Holden’s done tonight - it wouldn’t be right. “Hey,” she says to his back. “Hand me a box.”
Holden turns to her. “Sorry I screwed things up. I thought it might be your one chance of getting the sample you need.”
“At least you were focused on the mission. Once I got in that room, I forgot about the blood samples and everything else,” she admits.
“I don’t know,” Holden says. “From where I was standing, it looked a lot like you were too busy saving lives to worry about anything else.”
Lisa bursts into tears as the full weight of what might have happened crushes her. Holden tentatively takes her elbow, and when she doesn’t pull away, he puts his arm around her shoulders and leads her into the school while Lisa tries to regain control of herself.
Outside the teacher’s lounge, Holden opens the door for her. “Time to hit the sack, doc.” He peers over her shoulder. “What are you waiting for?”
Marcelli is sitting bolt upright on Lisa’s couch, even though he’s sound asleep. Janet is curled up, sleeping peacefully on the other side of the room.
“You can always count on Marcelli,” Holden whispers. “It looks like Janet’s figured that out, too.”
It takes more than a whisper on Holden’s part to get Tony to wake up. There’s a crackling of naugahyde as Marcelli is pulled to his feet, and the scuff of boots along the gritty floor. As tired as she is, Lisa makes a mental note to mop it thoroughly tomorrow.
