Life Support

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Life Support Page 39

by Robert Whitlow


  Alexia was shocked. The judge had adopted her recommendations verbatim. Judge Holcomb turned to her with a serious expression that revealed nothing.

  “Ms. Lindale, do you have any questions?”

  “Uh, when you say as soon as practicable, what does that mean as to specific timing?”

  The judge looked toward Dr. Kolb. “When would you be able to remove the ventilator?”

  The doctor’s face displayed his obvious disappointment. “It could be done this evening if the family completes the process of preparing for the possibility that the patient will not survive.”

  Pinchot stood up. “On behalf of Mr. Richardson, we request that implementation of the order be delayed at least forty-eight hours. Baxter’s brother is not in Greenville, and the entire family would like to be present.”

  “Where is the brother?” the judge asked.

  “In Santee,” Pinchot responded. “He’s taking care of the family business in the absence of his father and Baxter.”

  “Do you have a response, Ms. Lindale?” the judge asked.

  Alexia leaned over to Rena. “What do you think?”

  “Jeffrey could be here in a few hours.”

  Alexia stood. “A twenty-four-hour time period should be sufficient. Perhaps by five o’clock tomorrow afternoon.”

  The judge knit her eyebrows for a second. “I’m going to grant Mr. Pinchot’s request and set the time for removal of the ventilator at 5 P.M. on Sunday afternoon. Can that be coordinated by the physicians?”

  Dr. Kolb glanced over his shoulder. “I will be out of town on Sunday. Dr. Berman will be on call for our office.”

  “I’m sure that will give sufficient time to communicate with the pul-monologist,” Dr. Berman responded. “It can be done.”

  “Incorporate that into the order,” the judge responded. “Any other questions?”

  “None from the petitioner,” Alexia answered.

  Pinchot didn’t immediately answer. He gazed at a place on the wall behind the judge’s head for several seconds.

  “Your Honor, could there be additional evidence presented that would cause you to reconsider your decision?”

  It was a question that could have produced a terse response. The judge responded in a more tactful tone.

  “Mr. Pinchot, if you had such evidence, it should have been brought forth during the hearing. However, let me emphasize again to you and your client that I am not acting on personal belief but consistent with the parameters set by Mr. Richardson himself in the declaration of desire for a natural death. For this reason, I will not entertain a motion to reconsider if it is based on further argument or medical opinion. Only if you have evidence that the declaration was not signed freely and voluntarily by Mr. Richardson would I entertain a motion to reconsider. Does such evidence exist?”

  “Not that I am aware of,” Pinchot answered. “The attorney who drafted it is no longer with our firm. I intend to contact him, and if something comes up, I will file an appropriate motion.”

  The judge nodded. “In the meantime, draft an order consistent with my verbal ruling.”

  Alexia was impressed. Judge Holcomb had not allowed her preferences or the opinion of a personal friend to interfere with what she understood to be her legal duty. Alexia put everything neatly back into her briefcase and slipped the demonstrative exhibits back into the portfolio. Pinchot and Ezra were involved in a heated conversation and didn’t glance in their direction.

  “Let’s go,” Alexia said to Rena.

  They walked out of the courtroom and caught an elevator by themselves. Giles Porter was not in sight. Alexia leaned against the wall as the doors slid shut. The two women stood side by side.

  “That was a shock,” Alexia said. “I never thought the judge would refuse to follow Dr. Kolb’s recommendations.”

  “But we still have to wait two days,” Rena protested. “You shouldn’t have backed down.”

  “Trust me,” Alexia said, tight lipped. “We got as much as we could from this judge.”

  “I wish I could,” Rena replied in a snippy voice.

  Alexia instantly went from surprise at the judge’s ruling to rage at her client. She couldn’t believe Rena was questioning her fidelity to the case. If the doors of the elevator hadn’t opened to a group of people waiting to get on, she would have unloaded a verbal barrage. She stormed out of the elevator and left Rena trailing behind her.

  “Wait!” Rena called out. “Where are you going?”

  “Home,” Alexia called over her shoulder. “Don’t call me.”

  Alexia reached her car and started the engine. Rena could catch a cab back to her hotel. Nothing infuriated Alexia more than someone calling into question her loyalty and commitment to her clients. It hurt worst when coming from a person she’d so heavily invested in. Rena ran up to the car and banged on the window. Alexia opened it a crack.

  “I don’t have a car,” Rena said.

  “Call a cab,” Alexia replied. “I’m off the clock. Permanently.” She put the car in reverse. “I’ll calculate my time and refund the balance of the retainer.”

  Rena ran behind the car for a moment. Then she stood still with her arms crossed. The sight in the rearview mirror was slightly silly and deflated Alexia’s anger. She put the car in park and got out. Rena approached her sheepishly. Alexia spoke first.

  Pointing her finger at Rena’s face, she said, “You can question anything about my representation except my loyalty to you. If that doesn’t exist, you need to get another lawyer. I’ve dropped everything else in my practice to help you, and I will not continue until I’m convinced we’re on the same page.”

  “Oh, I don’t know what I was thinking,” Rena said hurriedly. “The hearing upset me so much, and it’s all so confusing and worrying. I’m sorry.”

  Alexia inspected her client’s face, wondering if the contrition was real. It was hard enough fighting Leggitt & Freeman without having to maintain a rearguard action with her own client.

  “Get in,” she said.

  They rode in silence until they were near the hotel.

  “May I ask you a question?” Rena said in a timid voice.

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t think waiting two extra days was a good idea because of the power of attorney. What will stop Ezra from using it against me until Baxter dies?”

  Alexia gripped the steering wheel tighter. Rena was right. In the swirl of the hearing, she’d forgotten to consider the possibility that keeping Baxter alive would give Ezra a renewed opportunity to use the power of attorney to plunder Rena’s potential estate. It would be the most logical way to carry out the retaliation threatened during their recent confrontation in the ICU waiting room. She should have brought it up in front of the judge, but it hadn’t crossed her mind. It was an embarrassing oversight and deflated what remained of her righteous indignation.

  “I should have mentioned it in front of the judge,” she admitted. “If Ezra does anything, we’ll file the suit we discussed before he returned the money to the bank account. It won’t take long to prepare the papers.”

  “But that will only lead to more delays and expense,” Rena said. “I know you think we won, but it doesn’t seem that way to me.”

  Alexia winced. It would be a challenge to unravel any transfer of assets and convince a judge that Ezra did not have the legal authority to do what Baxter had specifically given him the power to do.

  “I’m sorry I got upset,” Alexia said. “Although I go to court all the time, I guess I was affected by the stress as well. We’ll work through this together. Forget what I said about withdrawing from your case. I’ll help you if you want me to.”

  “I do,” Rena said. “Just don’t threaten me. I can’t handle that very well. I like to talk things out.”

  They arrived at Rena’s hotel. Several young men dressed in tuxedos were going into the hotel. It was either a formal college function or a wedding reception. Life goes on, Alexia thought.

  �
�Still avoid any contact with Ezra at the hospital unless other people are in the room,” she said. “If an emergency comes up, give me a call on my cell phone. I’ll have it with me all weekend. Of course, you can call me on Sunday after the ventilator is removed if you want to. I know it will be a hard time.”

  “I might not even be there,” Rena said. “Is there any reason why I have to be present when they do it?”

  “Technically, no.”

  “If he dies, I’ve already said good-bye. I whispered it in his ear the last time we were alone.”

  41

  No life that breathes with human breath has ever truly longed for death.

  ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON

  It was late when Alexia arrived home to pick up her pets. She’d never been away from them so much as in the past two months. Misha resented going to the kennel and had started sulking for a full day before returning for regular rubs against Alexia’s leg. Boris reacted like a child frequently separated from his mother and was beginning to misbehave to gain her attention. Alexia resolved not to leave Santee overnight for at least a month.

  She spent most of Saturday at her office, reading mail and returning phone messages. Activity continued in her other cases whether she was in Greenville or Santee, and it took skill to shepherd all her responsibilities. Without Gwen to help it took Alexia several hours to type answers to correspondence and draft discovery documents she could have normally dictated in one-third the time. She worked steadily until 5 P.M.

  When she left the office, Alexia stopped by Sandy Flats Church to tell Ted what had happened in the Richardson hearing and enjoy a musical meal. The church parking lot was deserted when she got out of her car and walked up to the sanctuary. Inside, it was dark in the narthex. No sounds of piano music flowed from the sanctuary to greet her. Disappointed, Alexia turned to leave. Ted’s truck was nowhere in sight. A good stereo system had satisfied her until she met a person who could produce the unhindered glory of music in her presence.

  Arriving home, she responded to Boris’s eager barking by putting on her swimsuit and dragging out her boat. The temperature dropped rapidly as the sun slipped toward the horizon, and by the time they reached the island, the beach grass was casting long shadows across the sand. Boris dashed ahead into the surf and then ran back to her panting with excitement.

  “This will be a short swim,” Alexia warned. “It’s almost dark.”

  Launching out alone into the surf was routine, but Alexia drew the line at night swimming in the ocean. Gazing at the stars from the waves didn’t interest her. She donned her wet suit and followed Boris into the water. Although the air was calm, the water was choppy from a storm miles out to sea. Alexia spit out several salty mouthfuls as she sought a rhythm that cooperated with the waves.

  She moved slowly down the beach as the sun slipped beneath the horizon. There was no moon, and it grew dark more quickly than she’d anticipated. The waters around her turned black. Boris was invisible except for the white of his eyes and an occasional glimmer of teeth. Alexia kept going. The wind began to pick up slightly as the leading edge of the storm reached out toward shore.

  Boris yelped, and an unexpected fear suddenly swept over her. Alexia shook it off and kept swimming, but Boris abandoned her and began to paddle rapidly toward the shallow water. She hesitated, then reluctantly turned to follow. She didn’t like to give in to fear. As she kicked downward, a large creature swept underneath her right leg and scraped against her exposed foot. At the unexpected contact, Alexia tried to catapult herself out of the water. Frantically glancing down, she couldn’t see anything. Boris was leaving her behind in his race for the shore.

  Alexia didn’t need further prodding, yet even in her desperation the discipline of countless hours in the water kept her swimming form precise. Her legs propelled her forward, and her arms cut smoothly through the choppy water. With the force of the waves behind her, she moved rapidly for a human swimmer but not fast enough to get away from the creature tracking her. It passed beneath her again and bumped her foot, then broke the water beside her as it came to the surface.

  It was a porpoise.

  Alexia glimpsed a happy mouth that smiled in greeting. The porpoise rolled on its side for a second and then disappeared beneath the waves. Boris reached the beach and began barking. Alexia treaded water to see if the friendly mammal would return, but it was gone. A few more strokes brought her to the breaking waves, and she soon joined Boris. The dog licked her face. Alexia held his head between her hands.

  “You’re a good watchdog,” she said. “But you need to learn the difference between a shark and a porpoise. Everything that swims in the ocean isn’t an enemy.”

  Boris pulled away from her and ran down the beach. Alexia followed. The wet suit kept her from getting cool as the stiffening breeze dried her exposed skin. The encounter with the porpoise had shaken her. As she navigated her boat through the inky water of the marsh, Alexia wondered if there was a lesson in the incident and decided she needed to heed the same advice she’d given Boris. There are many kinds of people in the world. Knowing the difference between a friend and a foe is not always easy. Alexia didn’t want to be mistaken about a friend or deceived by an enemy.

  Early Sunday morning, Alexia awoke and continued reading the New Testament while sitting on the porch. The twenty-four-hour period of estrangement with Misha had expired, and the cat joined her, curling up beside her in the chair. Alexia occasionally stroked the cat’s soft fur as she read. She finished the Gospel of John before taking a break. Taking her cup into the kitchen, she looked at the clock and was surprised at how much time had flown by. She needed to hurry to get to the morning service at Sandy Flats Church.

  After arriving a couple of minutes late, she sat on one of the back pews out of Ted’s line of sight. The choir was taking the Sunday off, and Ted played a piece of unfamiliar music that Alexia suspected he’d written himself. It was a peaceful melody that reminded her of unhurried moments in life such as the time she spent on her porch. During the service, she found herself focusing on Ted’s actions and movements. He was a graceful man. Unhurried and confident of his place.

  At the conclusion of the service, she waited until Ted finished the postlude and saw her. When he did, his eyes instantly lit up. She waved, and he came over to her. They were alone as the last people streamed out of the sanctuary.

  He took her hand and squeezed it gently. Alexia looked up into Ted’s eyes. Before, they had always been kind. Today, the gentleness was joined with masculine strength. He looked over her shoulder toward the narthex, and Alexia realized that he wanted to kiss her. She stepped away from the aisle, closer to a pew. Without a word, Ted leaned over and their lips met briefly. It was more sweet than passionate, but for Alexia it was a giant step in the direction of trust.

  When they parted, Alexia opened her eyes, looked past him, and said, “Uh-oh. Everyone isn’t gone.”

  Ted quickly turned around. “Who’s there?”

  Alexia pointed to the stained-glass window of the healing at the pool of Bethesda.

  Ted followed her finger and smiled. “He sees everything.”

  “What does he think?” Alexia asked.

  “I have an opinion, but you’ll have to ask him yourself.”

  “I liked it,” Alexia responded.

  Ted’s smile broadened, and he dropped her hand just as John Heathcliff returned to the sanctuary.

  When he saw them, he said, “Ted, don’t forget to fix the second step leading up to the pulpit. Did you hear it this morning? It creaked terribly. I’m afraid it’s about to break in two.”

  “Sure. I’ll look at it tomorrow.”

  Rev. Heathcliff nodded toward Alexia. “It’s good to have you back. Come again.”

  Alexia returned the greeting. “I will. Don’t you think Ted did a magnificent job with the music?”

  “Oh, yes,” the minister replied as he turned to leave. “And don’t forget about the step.”

  After h
e left, Alexia touched Ted on the arm. “Let’s walk outside.”

  It was a sunny but comfortable afternoon. A few cars were still in the parking lot as people lingered in the pleasant fall air to chat.

  “Does the minister not realize your talent?” Alexia asked.

  “No,” Ted replied seriously. “I’ve never kissed him.”

  Alexia laughed. “If you like, I’ll tell him you have definite potential.”

  As they walked toward Alexia’s car, Ted asked, “What happened with Baxter Richardson?”

  Alexia crunched a seashell under her foot. “We had a hearing on Friday afternoon, and the judge took my advice.” She looked at her watch. “They will remove the ventilator in about five hours.”

  “I’m surprised,” Ted responded with a hint of regret in his voice.

  “Why? Did you want me to lose?”

  “Not specifically. But I’m not convinced he’s a hopeless case.”

  “Let me tell you what happened.”

  Now that the hearing was over, Alexia could summarize in a generic way the medical evidence. She leaned against her car as she talked. The church parking lot was deserted by the time she finished. His brow furrowed, Ted listened without comment.

  “Maybe I was wrong,” he shrugged.

  “Given the testimony of the doctor who was a friend with the judge, it was an amazing result. I prayed that God’s will would be done.”

  “On earth as it is in heaven,” Ted completed the sentence.

  Alexia’s cell phone began playing the introduction to Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. As she fumbled for it in her purse, she said, “I forgot to turn it off during the church service. I’m glad it didn’t ring in the middle of a prayer.”

  “Beethoven would be amazed,” Ted said. “Do you want me to leave?”

  “No, it will just be a minute.”

 

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