BONE_A Contemporary Romantic Medical Suspense Story

by Dee Palmer

  “I’m sorry I walked.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry I said—”

  “You are right though, and I think that’s what hurts the most.”

  “I’m not, I’ve never been more wrong. Ruby is going to be fine.”

  “I hope so.” I struggle with the lump in my throat, but I force it down and face her. “I know I’m not being fair, Harper, and I don’t care. I’m sorry if that makes me the monster, but he doesn’t deserve her; he doesn’t. She’s mine.”

  “Can you afford for this to go to court, Regan?”

  “I thought…” My voice wavers, leaving my assumption hanging between us.

  “I don’t mean the money, silly. Of course I’ll represent you. I mean the time, time away from Ruby. Wouldn’t it be better to sit down and talk this through, like grown-ups?” she urges, and she’s right. However, it still doesn’t stop my instant and adamant response.

  “No.”

  “I so didn’t want to have to be the one to tell you this.” She pinches the pressure points at her temples, and for the first time, I can see the strain dulling her normally immaculate features. Her eyes have no sparkle, and she looks almost as bone-tired as I feel, almost.

  “Tell me what? What’s happened?”

  “I wanted you to say yes to that last part.”

  “What’s happened?” I snap, only to shake myself and softly add. “Please tell me what’s happened.”

  “Joel is insisting on a sit-down, arbitration. He’s serious about this, Regan.”

  “He can’t—”

  “He’s Ruby’s father, so, yes, he can,” she insists firmly and interrupts me before I can counter.

  “I’m her—”

  “You never legally adopted her Reggie, at best, you’re her aunt.”

  “I’m her legal guardian though.”

  “Um, that’s not entirely accurate.”

  “What?”

  “I have the paperwork.”

  “No, no, that’s not right. I was appointed Ruby’s guardian at her birth I just never bothered with the adoption process. There didn’t seem any point.’

  “Well, the point might’ve brought to light the fact that the court documentation for guardianship of Ruby wasn’t filed correctly. It’s a technicality, but it is also a problem.” She waves a fat manila envelope, dropping it ominously with a loud thud on the wooden bench between us. “Joel’s been busy.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Two things, actually, the guardianship papers weren’t served properly, and the witness signed the wrong form. The forms never got officially filed with the court. They were left pending correction, and then somehow got forgotten. It’s a technical issue which is only an issue if …” She doesn’t bother to finish the fuck up of a sentence, I do it for her.

  “If the birth father finds out and wants to make it an issue.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Arsehole.”

  “He could be, but I don’t think that’s his intention.” Her earnest expression and insight do nothing to ease my rocketing anxiety.

  “Just when I thought my life couldn’t get any worse.” I let out a humourless laugh and drop my heavy head in my hands. Harper picks the envelope up and slides to fill that space. Her arm resting across my shoulder, she hugs me as best she can at this awkward angle. I exhale a world-weary breath and ask, “So what happens now?”

  “You have to attend an informal meeting.” She’s quick to clarify when I stiffen with panic under her arm. “I will be there to represent you, but the idea is that you both talk the situation through to some mutually acceptable arrangement. It’s all conducted in front of an impartial arbitrator.”

  “When?”

  “We have two days to compile a case against him, if that’s the way you want to go.” I can hear the hope in her intonation, and a part of me wishes I could concede to make this easy on everyone; however, a much bigger part of me just wants my daughter and me to be left the fuck alone.

  “I don’t want to share her, Harper,” I say resolutely. Harper gives a sharp nod, resignation and determination vying for pole position on her expression.

  “Then you better get some rest. We have work to do.” She stands and brushes away the conflict along with the creases in her clothes.

  “Thank you.” I stand and throw my arms around her, squeezing tight, and when we face each other, she returns my hope-filled smile.

  “Don’t thank me just yet.” The effort to keep her tone optimistic is wasted, and she looks so concerned. We walk silently back into the hospital, and I take inordinate comfort from the renewed look of determination now fixed firmly on my best friend’s face.

  We’ve got this.

  “Regan, can we talk?” My legs feel like jelly from the non-stop nervous jiggle when I pull myself to stand up. The hard leather chair outside the meeting room has been making my bum numb for a good thirty minutes. As much as I hated leaving Ruby this morning, I also didn’t want to be late. I walk toward Harper and make a sweeping hand gesture down my crisp clean outfit of choice.

  “Sure, what’s up? Do I look all right? I thought my scrubs might work in my favour but I can borrow one of your suits if you think that will look better. I’m not sure we have time for me to change, though.” My garbled muttering isn’t the only evidence of my rocketing anxiety. I can feel sweat droplets gather at the back of my neck and trickle a path the length of my spine, my stomach feels like a raging ball of acid, and I’m one bad swallow away from throwing up my non-existent breakfast.

  “You look fine.” She takes my elbow and steers me away from the seating area outside of the arbitrator’s office. We walk until we reach the ladies’ restroom, and when she’s done checking underneath all the stalls, she turns to face me, and my stomach drops.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Did you ever tell Joel that you couldn’t cope? That you hated Ruby?”

  “No!” I grab the instant hit of pain in my chest like she’s struck an almighty punch at my heart.

  “Did you tell Joel about screaming at Ruby, leaving her weak lungs to gasp for air and cry herself to sleep?”

  “No…I…I, Oh, god, he wouldn’t?” I buckle with the pain, a direct hit, as agony and despair explode inside me.

  “Actually, he wouldn’t, but his lawyer just gave me the heads up. She made it perfectly clear that if this isn’t settled, she will insist this information being made available in court.”

  “I’ve never told anyone that story, not even you. I was so ashamed.” Tears I’d been valiantly keeping at bay all morning burst their banks and stream down my face. Harper holds my shoulders, her face a mix of twisted comfort and concern. The former I can handle, the latter isn’t what I need to see and frankly terrifies me.

  “I-I can’t believe this. I only told him a few days ago, when Ruby was…” I suck back the sobs tearing through me, and I stutter to explain. “I thought I was losing her, and I felt like the worst mother. He tried to comfort me and I wouldn’t hear any of it. I told him just how bad a mother I had been. I was distraught. I never dreamed he’d use that against me.”

  “Is there anything else you shared that I don’t know about?” Her flat tone fails to mask the hurt in her voice.

  “No, I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t think this was even a possibility, so I don’t know. I’m sorry, Harper.” I couldn’t feel any worse right now. I should’ve told her, if not back then, I should’ve told her last night when she asked all those damn questions about me and Joel. I was perhaps a little embarrassed, but I wasn’t remotely ashamed, and I shared all my secrets. What I did to Ruby that night, I’ll never forgive myself for.

  However slighted, Harper’s focus is rightly with the task in hand.

  “I know you said no last night, but I have to at least let it slip—” Harper waves her phone in her hand and quirks her lips with her tentative inquiry that I shut down before she finishes speaking.

  “No! I won’t stoop, Ha
rper.”

  “We don’t have to put anything in writing. I can just casually leave a photo on my screen on the table, face up.”

  “What? You have photo?”

  “I have one of you with four finger print bruises around your neck the day you got back from the cabin.” She scrolls through her phone and holds it out to me. Shocked and almost speechless, I snatch her phone. The screen fills with the image of the living room in my sister’s apartment. I’m lying on the sofa, asleep and I don’t even have to zoom in to see the marks Joel left on me. My hand flies to my neck, the skin tingles with the ghost of the pressure I can feel as fresh as I remember how those bruises got there. It was amazing, wonderful, and I feel violated by the harsh light of the picture before me.

  “You took photos! As in, more than one?” Anger bubbles inside me, and I don’t know which emotion is going to surface, rage, betrayal, or hurt.

  “I was worried. I kept them in a private folder.” She bristles at the accusation in my voice. Her back straightens and she takes a discrete step back.

  “You have a folder?” My jaw clenches, my fists too. I don’t believe this.

  “I was worried for my best friend.” She tries to defend her actions, and as angry as I am, I can hear the panic in her voice and see the sincerity in her eyes. I have to remind myself this is Harper; she does things differently, but she has my back, always has, and always will. She loves me, and I love her.

  “If you were so worried, why did you never ask me?” I exhale, as I force myself to let this go.

  “I assumed you would tell me if you were in trouble, and up until very recently, I thought you had told me everything.” Her shoulders slump, and there is no accusation in her tone; she’s just a little hurt. I nod my understanding and cup my hand for her to hand over the evidence.

  “Show me.”

  “It’s only a few pictures.”

  “Show me.” She hands me the phone with the secret folder open. The gallery of pictures is only four. Even so… “Fuck, these look bad.” I flick between the images, all of me asleep, and I fight the creepy vibe that she has one of me spread eagled, completely naked on my front in my bed. I happen to remember the heat wave we endured that summer, so catching me naked wasn’t a stealthy operation.

  She takes the phone back and quips optimistically, “Or good.”

  “No. I said no last night, and I meant it.” My tone holds no argument. I am shutting this down. “Joel did nothing wrong here, despite what this would look like in a court. It was consensual, and I won’t burn him for doing something I wanted. It would ruin his career. He’s a good doctor, Harper, and he loves his job. I won’t be responsible for taking that away.”

  She hits back, softly but the strike is painfully accurate and my heart stills. “Even if that means losing Ruby?”

  “I’m not going to lose Ruby,” I state with more conviction than I confidently feel.

  “He’ll have more than what his lawyer let slip here, Regan. Trust me, this isn’t the end of it.”

  “Maybe, but I won’t lie.”

  “Fine.”

  “Come on, Harper, where’s your fighting spirit? Since when do you need to play dirty?” I step to her side and squeeze a sideways hug. She tilts her head to keep eye contact, and a wicked, knowing smile spreads like warm treacle across her face, glossy, tempting, and so bad for you.

  “You really don’t know me at all, do you, Reggie? That’s what I do.” She winks and nods for me to follow her long legs as they eat up the distance to the restroom door.

  We walk in silence down the corridor, her arm threaded through mine. She keeps me moving at a pace even when panic knocks me sideways at seeing Joel seated in the same chair I only recently vacated. My stomach clenches with tight anxious knots, and saliva pools in my mouth as I struggle to swallow without heaving. He looks effortlessly immaculate in a crisp white shirt, a casual, light honey-coloured linen jacket and dark jeans. His dirty blonde hair isn’t so much styled as artfully arranged in a sexy this-way-and-that mess of thick unruly strands. He stands when the person who must be his lawyer, approaches. Confident, easy charm rolls off him, and I falter when he turns to face me. His immediate instinctual smile wavers on his soft, full lips when his eyes fix on me, and even from this distance, I can see the contradiction, they hold more uncertainty than I do in my whole body. He’s worried.

  Harper stands stiffly at my side when we reach the door.

  “Regan.” Joel gives a curt nod and seems to savour my name in his mouth, as though he has rolled it around and let it rumble from his lips with the gravelly undertone of his voice. It makes the hairs on my neck spark to life, even today, damn him.

  “Assface.”

  “Extremely mature,” his lawyer snarks with a sickly smile. I pinch back a tight smile, irritated that’s she’s right.

  “Alison.” Joel’s deep reprimanding tone makes his lawyer jolt, contrition replacing her brief smug expression.

  “Shall we?” Harper opens the door and allows Joel and his lawyer through before whispering to me as I enter. “Not helpful, Regan,”

  I mutter under my breath, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

  “Try harder.”

  The meeting room is large, modern, and sparsely-furnished with one polished cherry wood oval table that dominates the space and seven high-back leather chairs. There’s a sleek matching side unit with a selection of colourful juices, bottled mineral water and five glasses. The far side of the room is floor to ceiling glass with an impressive and uninterrupted view overlooking Navy pier and Lake Michigan. The morning mist hasn’t yet lifted, but when it does, this room will have the most amazing view. I just hope I’m not still here to see it. I want this to be over quickly, so I can get back to Ruby’s side, where I belong.

  We all take our seats, and an awkward silence settles with the only sound the rustle of material from my trousers under the table. I quickly push down on the top of my right thigh to stop the nervous bouncing. Harper’s brow arches high when she looks over at what I’m doing as my arm continues to jiggle beneath the table.

  “What are you doing?” she asks, not bothering to whisper, since all eyes are now on me, and any sound is going to be heard. Even a church mouse is going to sound like a jumbo jet taking off in here.

  “She’s nervous. Her legs jump like that when she’s anxious.” Joel offers lightly, and I nearly bite his head off.

  “Yes, thank you, insight man. It is not a huge surprise, given that you want to steal my daughter.”

  “My daughter too,” he replies softly, the catch in his voice matches the surrender of his palms up hand gesture.

  “Contenders, the bell hasn’t yet rung. Shall we at least wait until the arbitrator arrives before we put the gloves on?” Joel’s lawyer says, glancing at Harper with a wry smile I want to slap from her face. Still, I do need to rein in my temper, or Joel will not only get what he wants, he’ll probably get me committed in the process. Harper’s hand slips beneath the table and she places it firmly on mine. I glance her way and take the non-verbal expression for what it is, silent support and a gentle warning: Keep it together, Regan.

  The door behind Joel and Alison opens, and Judi Dench’s doppelgänger walks in, in an olive tweed suit, pale pink blouse with a ribbon tie, and a single string of pearls resting on her ample frontage.

  “Good morning, everyone. My name is Judy Flanders. I am your appointed arbitrator today,” she says, and I daren’t risk a glance at Harper because I know she’s thinking the same thing: James Bond’s M is going to be our arbitrator; how cool is that? “Yes, yes, I know I look like the actress, and, no, Daniel Craig isn’t going to be popping by, unfortunately.” She has a friendly smile, which she spreads around the room like a ray of sunshine. At any other time, I might warm to her or laugh at the joke. Today, however, my sense of humour eludes me.

  Judy pulls the chair out at the end of the table and hangs her jacket over the back. Once seated, she retrieves a red file an
d pencil from her brief case. She places them neatly in front of her and looks up. “Now, first thing’s first. You have both chosen to be here today. I can assume you wish this dispute to be resolved here and now rather than end up in court.” I seem to be the only one nodding. Judy continues to clarify what Harper has explained at length, and I guess Joel already knows since this was his suggestion. “Although this isn’t a court, the decision I make today is just as binding, does everyone understand?”

  “Yes,” Joel answers, and I nod, then with a nudge from Harper, I give the same response.

  “Good, so who would like to go first?” She picks up her pen and opens the file to a clean lined page.

  “Regan, you’re Ruby’s mother, would you like to go first?” Joel offers, the deep timbre of his voice seems to softly caress the word mother, and his eyes hold mine for a fraction of a second too long. I can’t get a read on that look. It’s a messed up mix of tender reverence and misplaced pride. Whatever it is, it’s too little, too late.

  “Aunt, Ms Jones is Ruby’s aunt. Mr Prescott is her father.” Joel’s lawyer interjects. I feel the hit. Joel winces, and Judy responds.

  “Yes, I’ve read the notes, thank you, Ms Wright. Regan has raised Ruby as her own from birth, and, trust me, splitting hairs will do your client no favours in here or in court.”

  “I never disputed Regan is Ruby’s mother. I merely wanted to assert than I’m her father,” Joel states. His eyes bore into mine, and it takes what little strength I have to hold firm and return his glare. I tell myself over and over: I’m doing this for Ruby.

  “Assertion noted, Joel. Now Regan, would you like to explain why you object to granting Ruby’s father access?” I face Judy, thankful to break the intensity of Joel’s gaze, even for a moment. I’m drawn to him, always have been, and have to fight the pull. I can’t let him get to me, to us.

  “She’s very sick. She doesn’t know him. The stress of this situation in addition to her illness, I’m genuinely concerned would make her worse.” I state my only real cause for concern.