“Roxanne Monet. They told me you were here,” Paul said moving into the room. His abruptness startled her.
“Hi, Daddy,” Lindy said with a tentative smile. Paul looked over at the child and smiled and then looked back at Roxanne warily.
“I hope you don’t mind my visiting with Lindy. I’m in and out of the hospital anyway and every little girl needs someone to talk girl-talk with. Right Lindy?” Roxanne gave the girl a conspiratorial wink and then stood, ready to leave her with “Daddy Paul.”
“No, don’t go,” they both said at the same time. She might have expected the response from Lindy, but she looked at Paul more closely.
“I’m afraid I have to leave now.” She blew Lindy a kiss and squeezed her hand through the rubber glove insert in the tent as she had become accustomed to doing when she left Lindy. She nodded at Paul and walked toward the door.
“I hope you’re not leaving on my account. I would hate to think I’ve scared away such a beautiful woman.” He followed her to the door and they stood there. “I hope it doesn’t bother you that Lindy calls me Daddy.”
“No. Why should it?” Roxanne was bothered, but not by him. She did her best not to show it. She smiled and waved good-bye to Lindy and walked from the room.
That night, Roxanne could not sleep. She wrapped herself in a blanket and went outside to stand on the deck and look out over the moonlit ocean, same as she always did when she couldn’t sleep. She supposed insomnia was better than having those dreams.
Breathing in the cold salty air of the November night, she forced her mind to think of something more constructive. Lindy? No. Roxanne had no idea why she was attaching herself to this girl. It was not because of Barry. Their relationship was best described as very loose. Compassion? If that were the case, she’d be visiting every last child in the hospital because they were all suffering and deserved compassion.
There was no denying that she found something in Lindy that reminded her of herself as a little girl. The child was motherless. But Roxanne was not Lindy’s mother and could never be, so what was she doing? Maybe she could be a big sister to the girl. She was pleased with this thought, because despite her scoffing at Bonnie’s warning, she was afraid of becoming too involved. And then being left with nothing.
Chapter 8
ROXANNE WAS encouraged by Lindy’s progress. She smiled at the nurse as she emerged from the sleeping girl’s room.
“I think I see a big difference since she was put in Dr. Oki’s program,” Roxanne said to the nurse.
“It’s too soon to say for sure officially since it’s only been a few days. But I think you’re right. It’s too bad they won’t be taking any more patients.”
“What do you mean?” Roxanne stopped.
“They’re officially closing down the project after May. It’s all winding down for the final stats and reports. We’ve already started. They’re even hiring clerical and administrative staff now to close everything out and finish the papers and reports. But then you should know that. I hear it’s thanks to you that we can continue with our current patients.” The nurse smiled. Roxanne stared at the woman in silence trying to remember that the woman was only the bearer of the news, not the decision maker. Trying to keep the edge off her voice, Roxanne spoke.
“Where did you hear all this?”
“Directly from the president’s office. The memo was distributed to all the affected staff.” The nurse began to push her cart on.
The news stung Roxanne deeply. She felt heat rise inside and felt completely powerless.
She had a meeting with Harry today. This was probably what it was about. She tried to stay calm. She called to the nurse, “Take good care of Lindy for me.” She gave the nurse a tight smile and turned on her heel. Pounding down the hall to the elevator, she headed, not for Harry’s office, but to the office of Dr. Colin Evans, President and Chairman of the Board of Trustees of CMH.
Luckily, when she got there he was in, and his secretary was not. After a perfunctory knock on his outer office door and a wave through the glass-walled room, Roxanne threw open his office door and stepped in. Dr. Evans stood and smiled his greeting. Roxanne returned the greeting, but not the smile.
“Have a seat Ms. Monet.” He was probably the only one left at the hospital that called her that. She had convinced the others on the board to call her Roxy, along with the rest of the universe. But then she didn’t forget that he had a long-standing, if recently distant, friendship with Penelope Boswell. Their relationship dated back to when Penelope was involved in the CMH League. He had never favored Roxanne’s flashy style and only conceded to allowing her to flourish because she came along at a time when they needed extra money for the new building and expansion programs.
Roxanne sat in the chair he indicated and spoke right up. “I would like an explanation as to why Dr. Oki’s program is being ended. Why can’t he continue until next year’s NIH grants come through? You do realize this makes my special fund a lame duck measure?”
He looked at her directly, without even blinking. “Yes. Your fund was never meant to be anything more than a one-time measure from what I understand. Frankly, I would prefer that you drop the crusade entirely. One of the reasons NIH gave funding to another hospital instead of ours for this type of project is because we’re considered to be ‘fund rich.’ We have a wealth of resources and they recognize that at NIH and are now using that as a factor in awarding their ever-shrinking grants. Frankly, we prefer the NIH grants to a fund like yours.
“As for Dr. Oki’s research program, we have to pick and choose more carefully now, which research projects we continue and which we let other facilities carry on for the overall good of the medical community. I think you should stop the special fund now in its tracks before you’ve gone public. The money that’s in it now can be diverted to the general fund. We’ll wind down the program by May on this year’s grant. It will save us from any potential embarrassment if people find out your special fund promotion is only for a handful of children for a short term. We could be the laughingstock of the industry. It might even jeopardize our other fund-raising efforts which we have come to rely on more and more.” He finished his speech and steepled his fingers, leveling her with a serious look.
She looked back at the man with an unblinking stare of her own. To a casual observer his arguments sounded reasonable, even good. But she knew better. This was a political move on his part to gain more control over Harry’s development department. Besides, that “handful of children” he referred to included Lindy.
“Dr. Evans, what you say is all well and good, but as you so euphemistically put it, that handful of children is made of real people, flesh and blood, as important as anyone else at any other hospital. I’m talking about life-saving here, not jockeying for position in the medical research community hierarchy.
“And I’m highly insulted that you doubt my talents as a communicator. You know I can take the fact that there are only these few kids left in this life-saving program and turn the fact into an asset instead of a liability. It would never be an embarrassment. Not only am I not going to stop my crusade as you put it, but I’m going to lobby the full Board of Directors to continue Dr. Oki’s program.”
“Don’t fight me on this one, Roxanne.” He used her first name, but it had the opposite effect from making him sound friendly.
“I have the hospital league behind me.”
“Don’t be so sure.” She left his office.
She took the stairs instead of the elevator to Harry’s office. Harry was talking with his secretary, Pat, when Roxanne strode in.
“I want to talk to you, Harry.” She walked straight into his office and sat down. She rummaged through her Louis Vuitton bag looking for her iPhone. What a waste of money, she thought, throwing the bag down on the chair after she’d retrieved the phone. She placed a call to her travel agent, glancing at the offensive bag. “I wish I had the five hundred dollars now that I paid for that thing,” she said out lou
d. Then she drew her attention back to her call.
“Kelsey, this is Rox. I need a flight to DC and back—let me check.” She looked at the phone and found the app for the Celtics schedule, then went back to her call. “Thursday the 18th, a.m., and I’ll return at midnight on the flight with the team…okay, I’ll go first class. But it has to be that return flight. Thanks.” She clicked off and turned around to see Harry Brown taking up the doorway.
“What are you up to?”
“Don’t be so suspicious Harry. I’m only going to Washington, DC for the Celtics game.”
“Tickets that tough to get in Boston are they? You’re up to something or my name’s Mr. Potato Head.” Harry came in and closed the door behind him as Roxanne laughed at his reference to the name she had called him once during an argument.
“I have a reliable source at NIH and I’m going to talk to him.” She held her hands up at the frown puckering Harry’s brow. “Just to get information. I’m only going to feel out the situation on Dr. Oki’s research grant on the outside chance that there’s any validity to Dr. Evans’s argument that a special fund could hurt us with NIH. I’ll smooth over any and all ruffled feathers before they happen. Because Harry, come hell or high water, I’m going through with the special fund campaign. And it’s going to work.”
“Well you answered my question. Rox, I have only one piece of advice for you—watch out.”
“That’s profound, Harry. I would have been lost without those words.”
He rumbled past her and sat down on the edge of his desk.
“What?’ she asked.
“Ever since the bad press you got about Don’s death there’ve been grumblings on the board. Between Dr. Oki and I, we’ve managed to convince them it would blow over—and it has, thank God. Don’t stir things up now.”
“Oh that. Look, Penelope and I aren’t exactly best of pals, I’ll admit, but she did charity work for the hospital in the past and I don’t think she’s going to interfere in a good cause. I have to go through with this project.”
“Do we have a spokesperson yet?”
“No, not exactly. But I’m working on that. Tonight,” she reassured Harry with false bravado. Why had she waited this long to talk to Barry? It had seemed like there’d be plenty of time and she’d wanted to pick the right time, but that had never materialized. Now it was urgent.
“Have it your way. But the project has to be independent. No CMH staff allowed to participate. Directive came from you-know-who’s office today. Sorry Rox.”
“That God damned bastard. So that’s what he meant.”
Harry looked up.
“Of course, whatever I can do to help in my spare time, let me know. And I’m sure Laura will donate her lunch hours.”
Roxanne put her hands on her hips and laughed. “Harry, you’re more like mashed potatoes.” She stepped up to him and planted a kiss on his forehead. He turned red and she laughed again. Harry mumbled something about getting back to work. Roxanne walked to the door to leave, then turned.
“Don’t worry about a thing.”
“I wasn’t worried. You just make sure you properly wrap those NIH people around your pinky. I don’t want anything to unravel later.”
Normally Roxanne drove herself to the airport, especially when she was taking such an early flight and returning the same night. But tonight she had other plans. She dropped her briefcase in the foyer after she ran down the stairs.
“No need to run. Laura’s not supposed to get here for another ten minutes.” Bonnie handed Roxanne a mug of coffee and they both went into the kitchen and sat down.
“That’s right. I forgot I set my alarm ten minutes ahead.” Roxanne laughed as she inspected her freshly painted cherry red nails. Bonnie looked her over.
“I suppose you’re going dressed in that outfit.”
“Now don’t start. It’s too late for me to change anyway.”
“Maybe just the sweater. You could wear a white blouse instead. I know just the one. I’ll get it.”
“No. This is more than a business trip. Remember? I’m going to the Celtics-Bullets game afterwards.”
Bonnie stood with her hands on her hips, lips pursed.
“Aha. And what are these NIH people supposed to think? You’re some kind of floozy? Not that they’d be wrong, mind you.”
Roxanne laughed. Bonnie sat down again with a sigh.
“Bonnie, relax. They know me. I’ll only be dealing with a few men at a meeting—a business lunch, a few drinks afterwards, et cetera.” She laughed when Bonnie’s eyes widened.
“That afterwards part’s what I always worry about,” the woman sighed. “I guess I’m getting old and envious.”
“No guessing about it,” Roxanne said when she heard Laura’s car out front. They both rose.
“I hope you realize you’re damned lucky to have a friend like Laura driving you to the airport at this hour,” Bonnie said as they reached the foyer. Roxanne got her things together and smiled at the older woman.
“Lucky nothing. I would do the same for her. Besides, we made a deal and she gets to drive the ‘Vette for the day. I’d have been better off taking a taxi.”
Laura took the driver’s seat and they headed toward Logan International Airport. Six a.m. traffic was heavier than expected, but then all traffic in the Boston area was getting heavier and heavier.
“Did you get the return flight you needed?” Laura asked.
“Yup.”
“I’m not so sure this is a good idea. What if Barry has other plans?”
“I’ll figure something out. If that happens you may get a late phone call for a ride home.” Roxanne smiled and Laura groaned.
“I suppose I shouldn’t worry. What’s the worst that could happen? You’re sure he has a car? Don’t they take a team bus to the airport or something?” Laura asked.
Roxanne let out a sigh and covered her face with her hands. “Will you stop worrying? They all drive themselves to Logan. Remember, if all else fails, I can always take a cab home. Where’s your sense of adventure and spontaneity anyway?”
“Don’t you remember? I never had any. You’ve always had enough crazy ideas for the both of us,” Laura reminded her.
Roxanne laughed. It was true. They’d done a lot together over the years and she’d always had to coax Laura into going along. And that had been part of the fun too—knowing she was being outrageous.
“How did you get tickets anyway?”
“I don’t need tickets. I’m going to the game on a media pass.”
“How?”
Roxanne avoided Laura’s gaze, looking out the window. “I got it through the TV station. But I had to promise to ask for another interview with Barry, or at least get an interview with the coach or someone.” She looked out at the planes taking off in the distance. As they neared the airport, Roxanne reeled off a list of instructions for Laura on what had to be done that day, all relating to the Dr. Oki fund.
“Aren’t you forgetting that I’m not supposed to be working on this?” Laura was smiling as she said it.
Roxanne got out of the car. “Take a long lunch. See you later.”
The flight to DC was uneventful. Roxanne had taken along some background material she had to read for an interview shoot the next day for her show. The show’s ratings had been respectable if not stellar and that bothered her. Of course, the airing featuring Barry Dennis had gotten excellent ratings and she felt her current ratings would be a lot lower now had it not been for that one interview. The producer had been right. But now she had to think of something else, something new to give the show another surge. But what? She frowned. It would come to her eventually.
The NIH meetings that day were successful if long. Her contacts confirmed assertions that the hospital’s ability to raise other funds was a factor in their award decisions. But they conceded that they couldn’t turn it into a trend without hurting the hospital in the long run. They had no intention of dong that. They were very sympatheti
c to Roxanne’s efforts to salvage what she could of Dr. Oki’s program and gave their full support to her effort.
“At least I got that much,” Roxanne said to Harry, walking and talking on her cell phone. “I wanted them to consider another grant application but they said not to bother.” She was heading from the restaurant to the game, along with crowds of people in the street.
“Dr. Oki probably already knows this. He’s busy putting together a new research project,” Harry said.
“I suppose he has enough to keep him busy being the Director of Research alone, without being principal investigator on any research projects.” Roxanne wondered that if Dr. Oki could move on, why couldn’t she? This crusade was the last thing she needed, really. Maybe she should spend her time and energy worrying about her personal financial problems. But that was just it. She didn’t want to have to think about any of her personal problems. And then the picture of Lindy lying in her BCNU tent came to mind and she knew she had lost all professional objectivity.
After bidding Harry good-bye, she checked her Rolex and realized she’d barely make the pregame warm-ups if she hurried. She grabbed a taxi the rest of the way to the Capitol Center.
Walking through the door of the press entrance, she flashed her media pass at the attendants and sped down a long, dingy hall. She pushed through some double doors, passed between rows of seats and out onto the floor of the basketball court of the Washington Bullets. There were a few men in uniform shooting at the basket down the other end and she walked closer. She recognized Barry Dennis in gray warm-ups, dribbling the ball around a defender. She walked nearly under the basket where she stood and waited for him to notice her.
Playing the Game Page 13
