The Doctor’s Promise

by Love, Michelle

  She never saw the SUV that was trying to overtake her. All Noemi felt was the shuddering, world-changing shock of being hit—and rolling, rolling, rolling—her scream, her first thought for the precious organ in the plastic cooler beside her, the crippling pain, the smell of gasoline, and her own blood, not dripping, but pouring from her head and then…

  …nothing.

  Chapter Three

  Her throat was tinder dry. That was the first thing Noemi registered as she crept back up into consciousness. She opened her eyes and saw a window. Bright sunlight. Too bright for winter. She closed her eyes again, smacking her dry lips together.

  “Here you are, honey. Ice chip.” Something small and cold was slipped into her mouth, and she sucked at it gratefully. Somebody took her hand.

  “Sweetheart? Noe?”

  Her adoptive mom’s voice. “Mom?”

  “We’re here, darling. Try not to move too much… your father has just gone to fetch Lazlo.”

  Lazlo. That name meant something, and yet another name was in the front of her mind.

  “Thomasina… is she okay? Did she get the heart?” Her voice was so rough—could they hear her?

  No one said anything. No, she wasn’t making sense. She struggled to sort out what had happened: Car. Heart. Pain.

  She blinked some tears away, then felt someone dab at her face. “Momma?” She hadn’t called Marian that for years.

  “Baby, I’m here. Lazlo is coming… Oh sweetheart.”

  Noemi could hear her mother’s muffled sobs. “I’m okay, Momma.”

  But she knew she wasn’t. There was a commotion, and then Lazlo’s kind face moved into view.

  “Hey, kiddo, decided to rejoin us?” A bright light was shone in her eyes, and she winced.

  “What happened, Laz?”

  “You were in a car wreck, kiddo. Drunk driver in an SUV blindsided you.”

  “Have you done a CT?”

  Lazlo half-smiled. “We’ve done every test, Noe, the full gamut.” He was feeling her neck, and she now heard the bleep-bleep of the machinery.

  “I didn’t have to have surgery. Good. Was it just cuts and bruises?” Her mouth felt like cotton wool. Lazlo glanced across her at her mother.

  He cleared his throat. “Noemi… no. It wasn’t just cuts and bruises.” He took her hand. “Kiddo, you were seriously injured—a traumatic brain injury. We had to operate to relieve the pressure in your skull, and you suffered three serious strokes. You lost nearly half of your blood volume.”

  He paused, and Noemi tried to understand what he was telling her. “I’m… How long?”

  Lazlo drew in a deep breath. “Five months, Noe. You’ve been in a coma for five months.”

  Slowly Noemi digested all the information they were telling her. Five months. Five months since that accident. Her long dark hair was gone, shaved off completely, but she didn’t care about that. When Lazlo told her the worst of it, she knew she would have much, much bigger battles to fight.

  They had no idea whether she could walk, and certainly she didn’t know if she would ever be able to perform surgery again. Her hands, although she could move all of her fingers, shook when she held them up, and her legs felt numb.

  “Thomasina…” She had asked again but, in her heart, she had known.

  Thomasina was dead. The heart that Noemi had harvested had been destroyed in the accident. “She simply ran out of time,” Lazlo told Noemi gently, but it didn’t help.

  Noemi sobbed for her patient, her charge, her friend, and for Tomi’s loved ones. For Rafa and Bepi. Marian held her daughter, as did her father Frank and her sister Leonora, but none of them could comfort her. The guilt was overwhelming.

  Dieter came to see her, and his usual arrogance was gone. “Oh, Noe… we nearly lost you.” He held her hand and kissed it, but Noemi couldn’t feel anything other than pain and loss.

  There was some minor brain damage, Lazlo told her, but it would be up to Noemi to gauge the severity. The therapist led her through some simple exercises, but Noemi only grew depressed and irritated as she struggled to make sense of everyday words and phrases.

  During one particular session, she sat morosely as the therapist took her through some new exercises. He kept prompting her until Noemi exploded, “For the love of God! I’m not a child!” She then angrily recited an entire surgical procedure to him.

  Jeff, the therapist, listened patiently to it all. “Impressive. Now I know how to transplant a heart, but can you tell me what day comes after Thursday—and do it while not being a jackass?”

  Noemi stared at him for a long moment, then burst out laughing. Jeff grinned. “That’s more like it. Now, I know this can seem like the worst kind of patronizing crap, but what I’m looking for isn’t the actual answer—it’s your reaction time.”

  Noemi sighed. “I know. I’m sorry, Jeff. I’m just frustrated.”

  “I know, but frustration is good. It means you’re trying.”

  Noemi studied him. “Tell me the truth, Jeff. Do you think I’m compos mentis?”

  “I absolutely do. It’s like anything, Noe. You were shut down for five months, and you have some catching up to do. Practice and you’ll get there.”

  After that, Noemi stopped complaining about her rehab and worked harder. She had been relieved that despite the numbness, she could still walk—if a little shakily—and that the tremor in her hands had disappeared as she got stronger.

  But she was obsessed with Thomasina’s death. When Leonora brought Noemi’s laptop from home, Noemi pored over every society page report of Thomasina’s funeral. She gazed at the photographs of Rafael Genova, his handsome face masked with pain, holding his son tightly. Dark shadows under his eyes, a half-grown beard… he was so beautiful, even in such terrible grief, that it seemed even more unfair. Noemi touched his face.

  “Oh, God, I’m so sorry.”

  She had asked Lazlo if she could contact Rafa, but he had dissuaded her. “I don’t think it would be healthy for either of you.”

  “I have to apologize.”

  “Apologize for what? You did nothing wrong, Noe. You got into a wreck with a drunk driver.” Lazlo, mild-mannered, sounded angrier than she’d ever heard him. Noemi knew that her colleagues had been forced to save the life of the man who hit her, and that it still rankled.

  But that was the oath they had all taken.

  Noemi felt useless. She gazed for hours at the photographs of Rafa and Bepi and knew there was nothing she could do to make this right. She read that Rafa took Bepi and moved to San Francisco and had set up a foundation in Thomasina’s name.

  While Noemi was in a coma, her parents sued the drunk driver who, it turned out, was a wealthy banker from New York. The man settled out of court with them, and Noemi was left with almost a million dollars.

  She gave it all to one of Thomasina’s foundations. As far as Noemi was concerned it was blood money. Her parents and sister tried to persuade her to keep it, and she offered to give it to them first—but in the end, they gave her their blessing. “It’s yours to do with what you want,” Frank Castor said, his hand on his daughter’s shoulder.

  Noemi didn’t hesitate. A month later, they allowed her to go home—to her parent’s house. Two weeks later, Noemi insisted on going home to her own apartment. Lazlo wouldn’t let her come back to work yet. “You need to heal.”

  Noemi stared at her reflection in the mirror of her bathroom. The apartment—her haven, her comfort for so long—rang with loneliness. In the mirror was a woman she didn’t recognize. Only her eyes, large, dark brown, and sad, seemed the same. Her dark hair had begun to grow out, but it would be months before it felt like her hair again. Her skin, usually such a rich caramel color, was yellow and wan.

  Noemi closed her eyes and sighed. The depression was beginning to drag her down, make her lose all hope of returning to her former life, and she desperately needed to do something to make herself feel human again. A vacation? No. She wouldn’t be able to enjoy it know
ing that Thomasina was in her grave, her family shattered. Noemi kept seeing Rafa’s face as he stood at his dead fiancée’s funeral.

  It wasn’t until after she had been in rehab for a few months that Noemi suddenly realized what she had to do. While attending a group session with a bunch of people recovering from various injuries, she had started talking to a young woman recently returned from a tour in Afghanistan.

  “We needed doctors,” she told Noemi. “Everything was in such poor supply: drugs, docs, basic supplies.”

  It was then Noemi had the idea. Médecins Sans Frontières. Doctors Without Borders. Noemi went to Lazlo first who encouraged her to complete her rehab first.

  “You’ll need to be at your peak condition for that,” he warned, “but I understand why you want to go. Your job is safe, Noe. Just promise you’ll come back to us.”

  Her family were less understanding. “Stop beating yourself up for something that wasn’t your fault.” Leonora said, her face creased with worry.

  Noemi hugged her four-year-old nephew Jack close. The child wriggled in her arms wanting to get off of her lap, but Noemi needed to hug him. “I know it wasn’t… but something in me needs to do something to redress the balance.”

  “You and that damn karma.” Leo was pissed off, and Noemi felt badly for her sister, knowing it was because she was worried.

  “Leo… please. I need at least one of you to be on my side.” Noemi’s voice cracked, and Leo’s face softened.

  “Oh, sweetie…”

  They decided not to tell their parents until everything was settled, but to their surprise, Marian and Frank were stoic. “We knew something was coming,” Marian told her daughters, “so this isn’t unexpected. Do what you need to do, Noe. Just please stay safe.”

  “I will.”

  The day before she flew to Syria, Noemi asked her family to give her some time alone. She took a cab out to the cemetery where Thomasina Ballentine was buried and laid flowers on the other woman’s grave. “I’m so sorry, Tomi. You deserved better.”

  She stayed there for a time before turning to go. She looked up and froze. Rafael Genova was standing a little way behind her, watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. Noemi didn’t know what to say to him. The pain in his eyes was unbearable to see.

  “Rafa… Mr. Genova… words can’t express how sorry I am…”

  Rafa turned and walked away from her, stumbling a little. Noemi felt tears drop down her cheeks. “Oh, Rafa,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry…”

  The next morning, she got on a plane and flew to the Middle East, not knowing whether she would ever come back.

  Chapter Four

  Two years later…

  Noemi shrugged into her white coat and shut her locker. There was no good reason why she should be so nervous—after all, this was her home, her hospital. But on this, her first day back at the Seattle workplace she’d known so well, she felt like a stranger.

  “Hey, kiddo! Come walk with me, would you?” Lazlo smiled at her as he appeared at the door of the changing room.

  Noemi smiled and nodded, joining her old friend and mentor as they walked through the hospital. Lazlo smiled at her.

  “Now… there’s something I didn’t tell you when you first came back, and I’ve struggled with how to share it with you.”

  “Lazlo, I told you—I don’t care that Finn is my superior now. I haven’t been doing much cardio surgery and I’m behind. We both knew that if I went to Syria, my training would suffer, and I’d have to catch up—and I have new skills now that we might find useful.”

  “It’s not that.” Lazlo stopped and fixed her with a steady gaze. “Rafael Genova is now on the Board of the hospital.”

  That she wasn’t expecting. “I thought he moved away.”

  “He did, but he came back. He told me he couldn’t be away from Thomasina, and that Bepi wanted to visit his momma’s resting place. Rafa told me if he couldn’t escape the pain, he wanted to at least face it head on and to do something positive. I thought you should know, Noemi.”

  She nodded, her emotions in turmoil. Noemi had counted on the fact that she wouldn’t run into Rafa again, that he was safely in San Francisco, or she might not have agreed to come back to Seattle. Don’t be a coward. “It’s fine, Lazlo. It’s not like I run in the same circles as the Board.”

  Lazlo nodded but Noemi sensed he wasn’t done. “And then there’s the clinic.”

  “The clinic?”

  “The Thomasina Ballentine Clinic for Cardiology.”

  It was a shock to her entire being. “What?”

  “And Rafa wants you to run it.”

  Noemi couldn’t breathe. “What?” Lazlo must have been aware of this way before she returned home—was she being punished? “Lazlo… I…I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. Now, obviously, until you’re an attending, you’ll be supervised, but yes, I and the Board agreed—you are the person to lead this.”

  From his voice, Noemi could tell that her friend was nervous about pulling rank on her like this. “Are you trying to punish me?”

  “Far from it, Noe. You’ve had two years, and the moment you came back from Syria, I could tell you still hadn’t forgiven yourself for Thomasina. You still haven’t processed it.”

  “You don’t know what I saw in Syria, Lazlo.”

  “I can guess, and no doubt you’re blaming yourself for not saving more people. That is your Achilles’ heel, Noe. You are not God. You can’t save everyone. Until you learn that, you’ll never be the exemplary doctor I know you can be.”

  Noemi stopped walking. It was a lot to process all at once. Lazlo’s expression softened. “Noemi… I would not be pushing you like this unless I believed in you. I believe in you. The hospital believes in you. Rafael Genova is not punishing you for Thomasina’s death. He’s offering you the chance to honor her. Take it.”

  And Noemi had no idea how to say no.

  She walked into the new clinic, breathing in the smells of fresh paint and of new equipment barely out of its plastic. It wasn’t open yet, Lazlo had told her—a ceremony was planned for two days’ time, and Noemi knew that Rafa, Bepi, and Thomasina’s family would be there. Thomasina’s name was above the doorway, her photograph and biography framed at reception.

  Noemi read it through and half-smiled at the photograph. It was Thomasina laughing, radiant, and full of joie de vivre, and Noemi realized that she had missed the sight of her patient—her friend.

  “Hey, girl,” she murmured, touching the photograph.

  “Getting emotional?”

  Noemi turned with a smile. Finn Wilder grinned back at her. “Welcome back, honey.” He gave her a hug, then rubbed her back. “How’re the legs?”

  “Good. A two-year tour at the run-down hospital facilities in Syria will do that. Exercise was mandatory. So,” she added, narrowing her eyes at him, “Lazlo finally managed to poach you from Tacoma?”

  “What can I say? I’m a sucker for a pretty face.”

  Noemi laughed. “Well, it’s going to be good to work for you, Finn.”

  “With me, Noe. With. Anything else is just ego—we’ll make a great team.”

  Noemi shook her head. “You’re so different from what I’m used to.”

  Finn laughed. “You mean Dr. Dieter WonderDick?”

  “The very one.” Noemi suddenly felt disloyal. “Although, he was great to me, when… you know.”

  “You know that wasn’t your fault.”

  “Why does everyone keep saying that to me?”

  “Because, Noe, you carry this… Aw, hell, don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ve heard all this before.” Finn sighed, knowing he’d opened a wound. “Let me show you around. Look at all the nice new toys we have. Genova gave us a huge amount, you know.”

  “I figured.”

  Finn showed her all the new equipment. “And we’ve funds for research too.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. The guy gave us a billion.�
�

  Noemi stopped. “What?”

  “Yep.”

  Noemi was stunned. “He gave a billion dollars to the hospital where his fiancée died?”

  “No,” Finn half-smiled at her. “He gave a billion dollars to the doctor he believes in, and who blames herself for Thomasina’s death. He gave a billion dollars to you, Noe. To your future.”

  Noemi’s emotions were in turmoil. Why would Rafa do this? Despite what Finn said, Noemi couldn’t believe Rafa’s motives were that pure.

  Later, at home, she mindlessly ate some cold pizza and took a long bath. Had it been a mistake to come back? Everyone seemed to be determined to make her face what had happened—hadn’t she been through enough?

  She went to bed but couldn’t sleep. Time ticked by, and at one a.m., having thought herself into a panic, she got up and threw her jeans on over her underwear, shrugging into a sweatshirt.

  She was on the road before she could talk herself out of it. Rafael’s mansion was well-known, nestling as it did along the shores of Lake Washington. Noemi didn’t know if she would be able to get past the gate, but she needed to try. She needed to see him, to ask him if he was just interested in torturing her. She knew she was overtired and stressed, but she didn’t care.

  To her surprise, the guard at the gate waved her through. “Mr. Genova has been expecting you, Dr. Castor.”

  His words merely fueled the anger that was building up inside her. She parked her car in front of the house and stormed up the steps. The door was open and she went in, but her courage abandoned her when she saw him.

  “Hi, Noemi.”

  Rafael Genova was waiting for her.

  Chapter Five

  The sight of him made her stop and think about what she was doing. Noemi passed a hand over her eyes, her adrenaline deserting her. “I don’t know why I’m here.”