by LAURA GALE
“Furthermore, if you are a match, we’ll want to get you in as quickly as we can. There’s no point in dragging it out.” Dr. Campbell handed Lucas several brochures. “These have diagrams and such. I would recommend that you look at them. The donor procedure itself is not the worst thing you’ll ever experience, but it isn’t the most comfortable, either.”
He went on to describe how the bone marrow would be extracted from Lucas’s hip under a local anesthetic. He would be able to stay in the hospital overnight if he wanted, but he should anticipate a certain degree of tenderness in the area afterward and should not plan to drive himself home.
“How will Michaela get the transplant?” Lucas wanted to know.
“Well, I’m not her doctor. You’ll want to talk to Dr. Graham for the specifics of Michaela’s case.” Dr. Campbell removed his glasses and was pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “That said, the recipient usually receives it through an IV. The chemo she’ll have prior to it will be worse for her than the actual BMT procedure. But she will be fragile for some time afterward. Essentially, she’ll have no immune system and she may very well have side effects from the chemo again.”
“So,” Lucas pondered aloud, “this is what Rachel meant when she said it would get worse before it gets better.”
“Probably,” Dr. Campbell agreed, reaching to push the buttons on his intercom. “Yes, Kristen, this is Evan. Is Paul Graham around?”
A few seconds later he spoke into his phone again. “Yes, Paul. Evan here. Listen, Lucas Neuman is in my office, talking to me about the bone marrow transplant. Do you have a few minutes to talk about Michaela?”
Scant minutes later another man let himself into Dr. Campbell’s office. Lucas found himself standing and shaking hands with Paul Graham. Paul was blond and blue-eyed and noticeably fit. He had a gentle manner, but Lucas felt himself squirm under the intensity of the man’s blue gaze. Lucas had no idea how old the man might be; his appearance gave nothing away.
“I’ve got brochures for you, too,” he began, handing Lucas another handful of leaflets. “These give some general reference information, but as far as Michaela is concerned, well…hers has not been an easy case. She didn’t respond as quickly to chemotherapy as we might have hoped. AML, the kind of leukemia Michaela has, tends to spread to organs throughout the body. The longer it takes to get remission to occur, the more likely this kind of spread is. That’s why her BMT is so important. On the one hand, it’s not an unusual procedure at this point in treatment, but she needs it more than most. Without it…” He shrugged, letting his silence finish the sentence.
They had talked for a few more minutes, Lucas understanding that either doctor would be available to discuss the situation with him again, if he felt the need. Lucas was also aware of their disapproval—a very sure knowledge that they didn’t like him, despite having just met him.
The busyness outside Dr. Campbell’s office briefly dazzled Lucas and it took him a few minutes to get his bearings. Then he decided he wanted to look in on Michaela and maybe speak with Rachel again.
His attention was diverted, however, by a cluster of people moving along a corridor and coming to a halt at the reception desk, a few feet away from him.
“Muchas gracias, Doña Raquel, muchas gracias.”
Lucas watched as a woman clutched Rachel’s hands, offering her thanks. She was Hispanic, her jet-black hair showing a few impressive streaks of white, her black eyes sharp and bright with unshed tears.
“De nada, señora.” Rachel answered, continuing on in hushed Spanish tones that Lucas could neither follow nor understand.
“What’s the commotion?” Dr. Graham’s voice came from behind him, followed quickly by a chortle of laughter.
“Ah, yes,” Dr. Campbell said, smiling at Lucas, nodding his head toward the ruckus. “Today, Tómas goes home. He is a fan of Rachel’s, I’m afraid.”
Lucas searched the cluster of people, seeking someone who might be considered a patient. He finally spotted a boy, perhaps thirteen years old, sitting in a wheelchair, a hand and a leg encased in plaster. Or fiberglass, or something, Lucas corrected. Whatever they make casts out of these days.
The young boy, blushing furiously, clearly had eyes only for Rachel. She handed him a bouquet of balloons, speaking to him in Spanish, and posed for a picture with him. Lucas supposed the woman must be the boy’s mother.
Lucas’s first glimpse into Rachel on the job left him uneasy—and grudgingly respectful.
The group eventually arrived at the elevator, freeing Rachel to make her way over to Lucas when she saw him.
“Hello,” she said, smiling lightly. “How did your meeting go?”
“Fine, fine,” he answered. “I met Dr. Graham as well as Dr. Campbell. Dr. Graham is Michaela’s doctor for…this?”
Rachel nodded.
“Right,” Lucas resumed. “Anyway, they gave me my marching orders and a whole lot more, right here.” He held up the handful of papers. “I’ll be back in the morning.”
“I might see you then,” Rachel said, making to leave.
Lucas’s hand shot out, as if to grab her, a motion she evaded. “Um, wait, Rachel.” Now that he had her attention, he wasn’t sure what to say next. “So you’re a nurse.” It wasn’t particularly elegant or profound, but he had succeeded in extending the conversation.
“Yes.”
“How long…how long have you worked here?”
“This is the first and only place I’ve ever worked Lucas. I’ve been here five years.”
“Five years,” he repeated stupidly, understanding the significance of that time period. She had obviously started working here just when they had separated. When she’d finished school.
“Yes, Lucas. I interviewed for a position while you were in Las Vegas. It was one of the things I was doing…that week. I took the position as head a couple of years ago. I certainly wasn’t hired as head.”
Lucas knew he would reflect on this information at another time. At the moment he didn’t want to leave Rachel. He needed another topic to postpone his departure. “That group that just left?”
She nodded again.
“She called you Donna something? What was that about?”
“Sort of,” Rachel said smiling. “Doña Raquel. Doña,” she emphasized the pronunciation of don-ya, “is a title we use sometimes. It goes with first names. Raquel is Rachel in Spanish.” She shrugged. “I am called that a lot, actually. Many of our patients speak Spanish—sometimes they speak virtually no English. But even if they speak English well, if Spanish is their mother tongue, it’s more comfortable for them to use it during a time of trauma. And, of course, trauma is not unknown here.”
Lucas absorbed this information. He had never thought about Rachel using Spanish—not really. He knew, of course, that she was bilingual. He knew that she spoke Spanish with her family. He’d just never considered what that meant. That she could choose either language at any given moment to communicate.
“Was that all?” Rachel was asking.
“No,” Lucas said, running his empty hand through his hair. “I was actually wondering if I could see Michaela again.”
“Sure, Lucas,” she replied promptly. She scrutinized him for an instant, then came to a decision. Shrugging again, she continued, “I think you’re getting an idea of her situation, so if you want to go, I’ll take you.”
Rachel motioned toward him, and he followed her. He caught a breath of her vanilla fragrance. He hadn’t thought of it in years, not until she’d come to his office this morning. Yet he’d never really forgotten it, either. Silently he noticed that his body recognized it as well.
Standing in the doorway, Lucas watched as Rachel went over to Michaela and kissed her forehead. He could tell they were exchanging quiet mother-daughter words, but he couldn’t pick up what they were saying.
Of course, if it’s Spanish I won’t understand, anyway, he observed silently, knowing he could not share this angle of their rel
ationship. He’d have to create his own place with Michaela. And with Rachel, if she’d let him. He wasn’t sure what he meant by that.
Suddenly, it seemed to Lucas, Rachel lifted her head and motioned for him to enter the room. Holding Michaela’s hand, she said, “I thought you might want to tell her about tomorrow.”
Lucas nodded, taking her lead. “Um, yes, I would,” he answered, marveling that he sounded so unsure of himself. But then, he wasn’t exactly overflowing with confidence right now. Nothing inside these hospital doors could be described as his comfort zone.
“Well, Michaela,” he began, noticing that Rachel had withdrawn to a discreet distance, allowing him a few private moments with his daughter. “I’m going to have some tests in the morning.” He paused, wondering if that was an acceptable term to use with a child of this age. He had no experience with children to guide him. Remembering how Rachel had discussed the situation earlier, he said, “Yes, tests that will show if we match each other enough so that I can help you.”
“I hope you match me,” Michaela said simply.
“Me, too,” Lucas responded, realizing it was true, amazed that he could feel so intensely about something so completely new to him.
Rachel moved back into the room then, leaning over to kiss Michaela’s forehead. “Hasta mañana, mija. Buenas noches.”
“Sí, Mamá. Buenas noches.”
Surprised—and surprised that he had understood the exchange—Lucas asked, “She goes to bed so early?”
“Well, she sleeps a lot whenever she can. She tends to get tired easily. But, it’s actually my bedtime.” She laughed at his surprised expression. “My shift starts at midnight, Lucas.”
“You can kiss me goodnight, too, Papá,” Michaela suggested.
Lucas’s mouth dropped open. He again experienced the breathlessness that had plagued him all day. He managed, however, to lean over the bed and kiss Michaela’s forehead just as he had seen Rachel do.
Walking down the corridor, Rachel turned to Lucas. “I’m sorry about that, if you felt put on the spot. Michaela doesn’t understand the shock I’m sure you’re feeling, so I hope you allow for that. I can have her call you Lucas, though, if the father title is just not—” she waved her hand in the air, trying to make her meaning clear “—something you’re comfortable with.”
“No—” Lucas shook his head “—no, Papá is fine. Strange,” he acknowledged with a smile, “but I think I could get used to it.”
“If you’d rather be Dad…”
“Oh, no,” Lucas responded immediately. “The Spanish seems to be natural to her.”
“Yes, it probably is. I mean, in my family we do use Spanish with each other, probably for our names more than anything. She may never have heard a father called ‘Dad,’ now that I think of it, not by anyone she actually knows.” Rachel pondered the possibility for a minute. “She has cousins and extended cousins, and they may all say Papá. I’m not sure.” She smiled softly. “I just meant that I know the concept has to be strange to you, so if you’d rather she use a word that’s more natural to you, I could have her say Dad.”
“It’s okay, Rachel,” Lucas said, realizing it was the truth. “I can be Papá. If that’s what Michaela wants.”
“Bueno.” She nodded at him, stopping in front of her office door. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Probably, anyway.”
Lucas knew he was being dismissed, but he wasn’t ready to leave yet. “Wait, Rachel,” he began, running a hand through his hair, letting it rest on the back of his neck. “Could I come in for a minute?”
Rachel was taken aback by the question, and it showed. “I guess so,” she said hesitantly. “But, well, I usually call it a day around three and it’s already after four, so it really can only be for a minute.”
She pushed open the door, standing aside so Lucas could enter.
“How long does it take you to get home?” Lucas could not contain his curiosity about Rachel’s lifestyle.
“What do you mean?” Rachel wasn’t following his line of questioning, being so accustomed to staying at the hospital that it never occurred to her that anybody would think she did otherwise.
Lucas squirmed, unsure how he could rephrase his question so that it sounded appropriate. “I was just wondering…you said it was bedtime for you—after bedtime I suppose. But you’re still here and I was just thinking you still had to…that there was still the time it takes you to get from the hospital to your…house—” he hesitated on his word choice, not knowing if that was an accurate word “—and that would mean you wouldn’t get to bed for even a longer time.”
“Oh, I see what you’re asking.” Rachel’s expression cleared. “I don’t go home often, Lucas. The hospital staff has built an addition for me, a bit of private quarters, so that I can stay at the hospital round the clock. I can go to bed as soon as I walk through that door—” she pointed “—and crawl into the bed they’ve tucked in there.” She walked farther into the room, starting her hot water kettle, knowing tea would help her relax, regardless of the caffeine factor. “I went home today for the first time in several weeks, just to exchange dirty laundry for clean. I guess I sort of live at the hospital these days.”
Fleetingly, Lucas wondered where home was for Rachel.
Looking around, Lucas also noticed how Rachel’s office suited her. He remembered her criticism of his own office years before—that it had been impersonal and cold. While her office felt like an office and still, in fact, felt like a hospital, Lucas had to admit it was more welcoming than his. Compared to his luxurious surroundings, Rachel’s office was spartan. He suspected, however, that the artwork and dried flowers were her choices—or that of her friends who had prepared this place for her—and not the efforts of an interior decorator who’d never met her. Which was the case with his own office.
Her diploma and other awards were posted on the walls, but numerous personal photos adorned the area, as well. It was as homey as a hospital room could be.
“Rachel,” he said, turning back to face her. “I guess I just want you to know that I’m glad you came to me about this. I understand you didn’t have much choice, but I also know you might have believed I would be…less than cooperative about it. You could have explored legal avenues first rather than just trying to talk to me. You could have easily decided to keep our lives separate. I’m glad you took the chance. And I really hope I’ll be able to help her.”
Wringing her hands, Rachel said, “Somehow, Lucas, I really believe you will. I mean, some family member just has to be compatible.” Rachel knew desperation had crept into her voice but she couldn’t help it. “And no one in my family suits.”
“You’ve all been tested?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, nodding solemnly. “It stands to reason that your family will have the match, and you’re the most likely of them all.”
Just then a voice came through on Rachel’s intercom. “Rachel?”
“Yes, Hannah?” Hannah was one of the reception attendants.
“I’m sorry, but…it’s Kerry Ann Parker’s mother. They’re going over tomorrow’s details and she’s—”
“I understand. I’m coming, Hannah.”
“Aren’t you off duty?” Lucas asked, thrown off by her acceptance that she couldn’t say no.
“Technically, of course.” Rachel smiled softly. “In reality, never.” Lucas saw her fatigue despite her attempt to conceal it from him. “It’s the nature of the job, Lucas. It doesn’t have limited business hours.” She reached into a closet that Lucas hadn’t even noticed before and pulled out a white lab coat. “I’ll try to hurry. I would think you’d understand extended working hours.”
She dashed out and Lucas was left alone in her office. He knew what she meant: he’d always tended to work long hours himself. He’d rarely, if ever, declined the opportunity to work beyond regular office hours, although he suspected Rachel’s motivation was different from his. Making more money seemed an unlikely contributing factor for
her.
Trying not to snoop and yet knowing that was exactly what he was doing, he moved toward the shelves that held numerous framed photos. He recognized Michaela in various stages of infancy and toddlerhood. His eyes were drawn to one in particular, which he picked up. It was clearly a newborn Michaela, held by her exhausted but proud mother and a man. Looking closer, Lucas realized it was Rick, Rachel’s brother.
“So he was with Rachel when Michaela arrived,” he whispered. “Of course, it would have been better had it been me.” He wouldn’t analyze the thought. And Lucas refused to acknowledge the fact that, had it been another man, someone besides her brother, someone he didn’t know, he would have been upset. Very upset that Rachel had found someone else to share such an intimate moment with.
Lucas glanced at the remaining photos, finding pictures of Rachel’s family in a variety of casual and formal states. He found a formal photo of Rachel in graduation gear, apparently delivering the commencement address for the school of nursing. He looked closely at the photo, observing the honors colors she wore.
She was valedictorian. First in her class. That’s why she’s giving a speech.
Needing to know more, he picked up the photo. There it was, engraved in the frame. May 13. He’d been in Las Vegas. Rachel’s graduation, being top of her class, speaking at the ceremony—reasons she’d had for staying in Phoenix that week. Reasons why she hadn’t wanted to go to Las Vegas with him. He hadn’t known and he hadn’t been there for her. He’d gone to Las Vegas without her.
He set the photo back down. He leaned forward enough to read the dates of the framed documents on the wall.
“I took the National Licensing Exam at the beginning of the week. May eighth to tenth. A grueling, horrible time. But good. Like boot camp, I suppose, in a way. And yes, I graduated that week. I interviewed for this job. I found out I was pregnant. I tried to tell you it was an important week for me. It was. Anything else you’d like to know?”
“I wasn’t prying, Rachel.” Lucas had heard an edge in her voice. “But I guess I am trying to put together the pieces of this puzzle that I’ve walked back into the middle of.”
