by Cheryl Wyatt
“I fear he’s crashing.”
* * *
“She’s crashing.” Mitch observed the hang-gliding patient. “Might wanna trach her, Ian.” Mitch indicated the woman’s numbers, which fell to lethal levels.
Ian performed the procedure.
“Thank goodness,” Kate said as the woman stabilized.
The overhead speaker crackled. “Code blue, imaging! Code blue, imaging, room four. STAT.”
Kate gasped. “That’s where Lauren headed.”
Mitch’s heart fell to his toes. “With the other patient.” Mitch and Kate sprinted to imaging, leaving Ian to attend the electrical burn patient.
Lauren ripped open a package as they entered. “He stopped breathing after a seizure. I resuscitated. He’s still unstable.”
“Repeat the meds and up the oxygen.”
“Done.”
Ian joined them. “The burn patient is stabilizing.”
Over the next few minutes Mitch and Ian rattled off order after order. Lauren performed each instantly without error.
If Mitch had any doubt in Lauren’s ability to perform under fire, it dissipated now. She acted swiftly and confidently.
As he told her the first day…in her element.
“Normal,” Lauren said of the man’s levels thirty grueling minutes later. Litter covered the floor.
Mitch stepped over various tubing and thrown plastic bags, which had held equipment they’d opened to save the man’s life. “Well done, everyone.” Mitch faced Lauren. “Especially you.”
Lauren sighed. “He’s not out of the woods yet, is he?”
“He will be after we get him into O.R.,” Mitch assured.
Lauren observed the man’s head wound. “It didn’t look that bad from the outside.”
“As we all know, looks can be deceiving,” Ian said.
They thought the hang glider was the least stable of the two. Not so.
“In trauma care, things can turn on a dime. You held up fantastic, Lauren, and once again, your quick actions and keen assessment skills saved a life.”
She didn’t appear to know how to respond. She drew in a brave breath and faced him and Ian. “To surgery with him we go?”
Mitch smiled. “To surgery we go.”
“How’s the female?” Lauren asked after surgery.
“Come see.”
Moments later, Lauren stood over the stabilized girl whose glider crashed into a power line pole, causing electrical burns.
“She’s so young. And so badly scarred.” Lauren looked closer. She paled. “Mitch, she’s also the mayor’s daughter.”
Mitch peered past facial burns, and recognition came. “You’re right. I remember her from the ribbon-cutting day. Anyone called him or other next of kin?”
“Doubtful,” Ian said. “She didn’t have ID on her. The sheriff called minutes ago and is on his way. He found her license and other items a few hundred yards from her crash site. He also asked to visit the injured deputy she fell on.”
“I’ll go meet him and phone her dad.”
Ian rubbed his neck. “We need consent to transfer her to a burn facility once she stabilizes in a day or so.”
“Yeah, she’ll need restorative surgery that we’re not equipped to perform here.” Mitch peered at Lauren quizzically.
“I’m good. Go,” Lauren said before he could ask.
He smiled.
The sheriff met Mitch in the lobby. “Found her cell phone. Thankfully she had ICE logged by her dad’s number in her contact list so we knew who to call first. He’s on his way.”
Mitch knew ICE was a universal acronym for laypeople and first responders that meant In Case of Emergency—call. “Good.”
The sheriff adjusted his hat. “How’s my deputy?”
“Better. He was worse than it first appeared. It’s that golden hour in trauma. Anything can happen. Lauren caught and quickly reversed it.”
“Speaking of Lauren, is she here and able to talk?” The sheriff scratched his temple and looked tense.
“I can relieve her so she can be. Everything okay?” Mitch asked in case he needed to cushion Lauren for bad news.
“You know the young girl she visits over at the jail?”
“Mara? The teen who texted and caused the fatal crash a few weeks ago?” Mitch’s heart clenched.
“About that…we have new developments. In fact, you all ought to hear the update. It concerns your team and my force.”
“Is Mara okay?”
“Much better. Thanks mostly to Lauren. You know she alerted us to Mara’s suicidal ideologies, right?”
“No. Didn’t realize that. When?” Mitch became aware that he hadn’t known a lot of things.
They still needed to talk about Texas and whatever adverse developments were going on there.
“Week before last. Lauren expressed grave concern over Mara, who woke up and went into extreme emotional duress upon finding out the boy had perished. She confessed to Lauren she wanted to die. Lauren talked her into getting help from a counselor.”
“Is she?” Deep concern for Mara penetrated Mitch.
“Yes. We set it up. She’s drastically improved, thanks to counseling and Lauren. She’ll want to hear what I have to say.”
Mitch gathered the team and shared the sheriff’s missive. He walked next to Lauren to infuse strength by osmosis.
Her face expressed the query in everyone’s mind: What was going on with Mara?
And what did it have to do with the sheriff’s department plus them?
Two steps from the conference room, the sheriff’s radio toned. He plucked it off his belt and stepped outside.
A minute later he returned, bearing an apologetic expression. “I’m afraid I need to reschedule, folks. I’ve got a domestic dispute to deal with, then I’m off duty.”
“No problem. How about tomorrow morning, here in the conference room?” Mitch asked while watching Lauren slip out.
“Sounds good.” The sheriff gave a backward wave upon exiting.
“I wonder what that’s all about.” Ian leaned casually.
“Me, too,” Mitch said. “We’ll know tomorrow.” In the meantime, where had Lauren gone?
And why was she avoiding him?
Chapter Twenty-One
The team clustered into a private conference room the next day when the sheriff arrived.
Mitch caught Lauren. “You and I really need to talk.”
“Let’s hear the sheriff out first, okay?”
“Okay, but let’s carve out time, preferably today.”
She looked as if she really dreaded it.
Which meant whatever she had to say probably wasn’t good.
He nodded reluctantly and gathered his remaining crew.
The sheriff motioned stragglers to seats. “Folks, the main thing I need to say is that the family of the boy killed the night he and Mara wrecked dropped all charges.”
Mitch straightened. “Why the change of heart?”
“They obtained their son’s phone records. Messages culled from that fateful night revealed Mara used his phone to text.”
“Why would that make them drop charges?” Lauren asked.
“According to texts, their son was intoxicated to the point of becoming unresponsive. He’d called Mara for a ride because she wasn’t, as he put it, ‘a party girl.’”
Everyone listened intently.
The sheriff flipped open a report. “Evidence proves she picked him up from a party and was driving him home. Somewhere along the path, though, she diverted to the trauma center. At some point frantically attempted to reach his folks through his phone. Those texts were sent the second she crashed.”
No one m
oved. The air even felt as if it stopped breathing.
The sheriff looked up. “I think the summation of the accident is that Mara was a young girl scared for her friend’s life, and therefore not thinking clearly.”
All eyes mopped floor and walls with his words.
Ian straightened first. “She wrecked trying to help him?”
“Yes, but fact is, she texted illegally while driving and knows that’s what ultimately caused the wreck and took him out. Here’s the wrench. According to your toxicology reports, his blood alcohol level could have also contributed to his death.”
That perked everyone up. The sheriff stood. “Despite that, Mara convinced herself she’s at fault. Made up her mind to take her own life as recompense.”
Mitch watched Lauren carefully.
The sheriff cleared his throat. “Mara wrote a suicide note saying she can’t forgive herself and doesn’t expect others to, especially not his family. Said she wished she’d died in his place and would do anything to bring him back to his family.”
Lauren began to tear up. He folded the letter.
Lauren stared at it. Myriad emotions crossed her face.
The sheriff steepled his hands. “Mara planned to overdose on pain meds she got from the infirmary nurse.”
Mitch knew by Lauren’s fallen face that she thought the nurse was probably devastated. Rightfully? He didn’t know anymore. People had choices and found ways regardless. Yet that didn’t ease the horror and the heartbreak for family and friends left wishing they could have seen it coming and stopped it. Mitch faced the sheriff. “How’d you find out before she went through with it?”
The sheriff looked Lauren in the eye. His gaze generated immense respect. “Your nurse here called out of the blue. Said she had a strong feeling we should check on Mara. We did. Found her stuffing the note and pills behind a drain. She tearfully confessed to Lauren when she came in, as mentioned prior. I felt it would be helpful for Lauren to learn the contents of Mara’s note.”
Lauren licked her lips. “May I see her?”
“Certainly.” The sheriff seemed glad she would. “I’m off duty several days, so next week’s better.”
“Can we go, too?” Mitch and Ian asked in contrite unison, causing Lauren’s mouth to gape.
“Me, too,” Kate said. “Visiting Mara is long overdue.”
“That would be great.” The sheriff stood to leave.
“Is she still in a lot of trouble?” Lauren asked.
“My force is at fault for the medication incident. We’re in far worse trouble than Mara at this point. She’ll likely be charged with a misdemeanor. At the most, involuntary manslaughter, which I doubt the judge will hand over considering the circumstances.”
“When would be the best time to come?” Ian asked.
“Tell you what—Mara could use the fresh air. I’ll get clearance to bring her here to see you folks all at once instead of you having to go to the jail one by one. Less paperwork, too.”
“Sounds good,” Mitch said. “But bring her to the beach docks. Returning to the center might be too traumatic for her.”
After the sheriff left, a helicopter arrived for the burn patient. Surrounded by family, including Eagle Point’s mayor, Mitch loaded her for transfer to a burn rehabilitation facility.
Several sheriff’s deputies visited their downed cohort in ICU, whose condition had improved.
With so many visitors in and out, Mitch’s crew took turns sleeping in call rooms. Lauren avoided Mitch but made one phone call after another. Which reminded him. Today was Tuesday.
He found Lauren. “Hey, sorry. I totally blitzed. I promised to call your ex’s superiors with you Monday.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered.” She drew a breath. “They’re not budging. I’ve been getting legal opinions on the contracts, but things aren’t looking good. The bank isn’t budging.”
“That means?”
“I may not be budging, either. I may be stuck in Texas.”
“There must be something we can do.”
Her eyebrows slashed. “Really, Mitch? We?” She shook her head and stalked off. What on earth was she mad at him for?
Ian jabbed his back. “Dude, you better find out what’s wrong. She looks pretty ticked.”
Unwilling to let this go, Mitch went after her. “Lauren, about us—”
She whirled with eyes flaming, like her hair. “Is there an us, Mitch? Because you seem to let Texas stand in our way.”
* * *
Mitch took Lauren’s hands. Strength entered his eyes. “Hear me out.”
She nodded and forced herself to be quiet.
“Long-distance relationships rarely work. Ian was torn up yesterday. He got word his divorce is going through early. I’ve never seen him so distraught. I don’t want you or me to have that kind of heartache.”
“You were in the military long enough to see at least one marriage survive deployment separation. Am I wrong?”
“No. Most marriages did. But we can only be together here. In Illinois. I promised Lem. I can’t go back on that.”
Great. Bring on the guilt. On the other hand, Grandpa was the one who had taught her financial integrity. “I’ll do my best. But I can’t control the bank.” An odd tension sat between them now.
“Say your heart, Lauren. Why are you angry with me?”
“I’m frustrated because you don’t seem to want to budge, yet expect me to. The problems escalate the more I pray.”
“So keep praying. I will, too. And we’ll pray until something happens.”
“Have you considered that maybe we aren’t meant to be?”
“No. I refuse to consider that.”
“God speaks through circumstances at times, doesn’t He?”
“What about Lem?”
“He survived without me this long. I can visit more often.”
“What about us?”
“If you’re not willing to budge, there is no us.”
“Lauren, I opened a trauma center. The community depends on it. I can’t pack up and leave all that, or even take it with me. I’m not being selfish. I’m being practical.”
She simmered down and thought about that. It made sense.
He massaged her clenched fists until they relaxed. “Please believe me when I say I want to make this work. You can always move your seamstress shop and do that here or anywhere.”
He was right, but still, he didn’t get it. “Mitch, by not budging, I meant on your stance that long-distance relationships never work.”
“They never work for me. I’ve tried.”
“You don’t seem to want to try very hard this time.”
He grew quiet. Contemplative. The way he did in surgeries that stumped him. Cases with the poorest prognoses.
Lauren felt a sudden weight of despair concerning Mitch that she hadn’t experienced before. She placed a hand on his heart and said softly, “Maybe Sheila took the fight out of you, Mitch. For that, I’m sadder than you’ll ever know.”
He pulled in her hand and held her close to his heart. “I want this to work. I really do.”
“Me, too. But I can’t snap my fingers and make my legally binding loan go away. Morally, I can’t walk away.”
He let out a resigned breath. “I know. You’re right.”
“About what? The loan?”
“Probably all of it.” He released her in what felt sickeningly like a symbolic gesture and, worse, put several feet of distance between them.
Her throat knotted. Chest tightened. Heart pounded. “But?”
“But what?” He looked at her as though she were a stranger.
I’m losing him.
Just as they’d watched fatally wounded patients go down the tubes, she hovered
over their relationship the same way now. Watching it fade before their eyes, even as they tried in utter futility to save it. Helpless to help something hopeless, and unequipped to save something too far gone.
They saved many, many lives, but some were too wounded.
Was it like that for them? His heart? Their relationship?
Was this salvageable? She searched for any spark of hope in Mitch’s eyes. Nothing. Like a flat line on an EKG screen of a patient already gone. No breath. No beat. No blip of hope.
Mitch stared at the floor now. The way he did after they called time of death in every code that ended unsuccessfully.
Then, like an unexpected spike, he peered up, looking nearly as distressed as she felt right now. “You’re upset.”
“Of course I am. And you’re aloof every time I mention Texas. What if I can’t move, Mitch?”
He turned his face and didn’t respond. Not one word.
“Mitch?” Insides quivering, she stepped toward him.
A muscle rippled along his jaw, and still no comment.
“Are you saying the distance is still a definite deal breaker?”
He didn’t answer, which spoke volumes.
* * *
A tense week later, Mitch paced halls waiting for word of Mara’s arrival. She’d decided to meet at the center to thank everyone who’d taken care of her and saved her life.
Ian accosted Mitch before everyone arrived. “I need to say this. It’s off subject, but I have to get it off my chest.”
“Okay, shoot.” Mitch knew today was hard on Ian. His divorce loomed.
He looked Mitch straight in the eye and said militantly, “My marriage is DOA as of this time tomorrow. And you’re going to lag like a coward and let Lauren walk away over something as trivial as one thousand miles?”
Mitch froze, riveted by Ian’s words. He sighed. “Fine. Hold down the fort. I’ll be right back.” He headed to the chapel downstairs. Lord, if there’s a way, something I’m not seeing or haven’t thought of, I’m consulting with You. Show me.
A seed of a solution came to Mitch. Vague at first, then clear.
Mitch smiled. He knew what he had to do.
That was fast. Thank You.
When Mitch got back upstairs, Kate huddled next to Lauren. Their friendship had bloomed in a beautiful way. Ian stood at the window, watching Nita wheel Mara toward the center.
