His Baby Bombshell

by Jessica Matthews

  Confessing his innermost thoughts had never been easy for him and it had only gotten worse after his parents had died. Although his aunts, teachers and other well-meaning neighbors had encouraged him to open up, he couldn't. Describing his father's last moments, talking about the promise he'd made, and voicing his fears, only cultivated his sense of being powerless and out of control. So, as the proverbial man of the house, he'd continued to hide his emotions behind silence and stoicism, noticing how his training had come in handy for those times when he had to deliver bad news to patients or their family members.

  Unfortunately, his reticence wasn't helping mend his relationship with Sabrina and he wanted to mend it badly. With a son to consider, he wanted to rekindle the tender feelings they'd had for each other.

  Unfortunately, it would take time for Sabrina to believe he had special care for her. Trust wasn't earned overnight, although he wished otherwise.

  * * *

  By Friday, Sabrina had to face facts. Adrian had moved in, lock, stock, and barrel. His change of residence was unofficial, of course, because he hadn't asked and she hadn't given permission. It had simply happened, taking place over the several days since her migraine attack. A single scrub suit in her closet suddenly became two weeks' worth of scrub suits and casual dress apparel. Both white and dark socks were tucked in the same drawer as Jeremy's undershirts and one-piece body suits. Adrian had even started to hang his toothbrush next to hers on the special holder instead of using his travel case.

  He was there for the duration.

  She should ask him to leave. It was too distracting to "play house" with him when she knew his reason for moving in. It was simple, really. He intended to prove they could make their marriage work by giving her a taste of the future as he saw it. No doubt he'd thought a woman who'd been raised by relatives who hadn't wanted her would jump at the chance to have her own family.

  Sadly, he was right.

  But she wasn't going to sacrifice her self-esteem to have that family. She wouldn't marry him, no matter how enticing the prospect was and no matter how hard he tried to convince her otherwise. Until he left, she simply had to protect herself emotionally and hope that when that day came, she'd handle it with grace and aplomb.

  Meanwhile, she couldn't deny the gift of time that he provided. She could indulge in a leisurely bubble bath, read the newspaper or paint her toenails without waiting until Jeremy was asleep. She could sweep the floor without Jeremy perched on one hip. She could also retrieve her mail from the box at the curb without dashing down the sidewalk and keeping one ear open in case her son should notice her missing. She could actually run to the store by herself and not juggle a baby with her purchases.

  Best of all, Adrian shared night-time duty so she was assured of a few hours of sleep each night.

  Selfishly, she decided to let things ride while warning herself to remain objective and not grow attached to these temporary living arrangements.

  But after watching the joy appear on Adrian's face as he put Jeremy to bed or helped bundle him off to day care, she didn't have the heart to take those simple pleasures away from him. That loss would come soon enough when he returned to Denver.

  Fortunately, his departure was a problem for another day. The one facing her now was far more immediate.

  "Someone made a mistake with my paycheck," Sabrina told the hospital's Accounts Receivable clerk. "The net amount doesn't reflect my payroll deduction for my hospital bill."

  As soon as Sabrina had opened her direct deposit pay stub envelope, she'd been surprised to note the net amount was far greater than it had been since her last check two weeks ago. Knowing she wasn't due a raise for some time, she examined the deductions until she found a crucial one missing.

  The girl clicked a few computer keys, then shook her head. "According to this, your account is paid in full."

  "That's impossible," she said flatly. "I still have two years to go."

  "My computer says otherwise."

  "There has to be a mistake. Someone else's payment must have been posted because I didn't—"

  "There's no mistake. A check was received and the money credited to your account."

  Adrian, she thought irritably. How could he do this when she'd made it plain she didn't need his help? OK, maybe she could use a temporary boost in her finances, but she didn't want it coming from him. Somehow it made her feel beholden when she craved her independence.

  "If you'll give me a second, I can give you more information." The clerk studied her screen. "Here it is. According to this, the balance was paid last week. Friday, to be exact."

  She thought back to their conversation on Monday and how money had been discussed, but only in the most general terms. And even if she'd been specific, Adrian couldn't be responsible if her bill had been paid on the previous Friday. For all he'd known, her health insurance had covered all her expenses.

  "Can you tell who paid it?"

  "Sorry. All I have is a copy of a cashier's check made out to the hospital with your name in the memo line."

  Sabrina could hardly take in her good fortune. Things like this didn't normally happen to her. "I wish I knew who it was. I'd love to thank them."

  "Check with Alice. She's the one who handles the actual posting. Maybe she'll remember details."

  "Thanks. I will."

  Alice, however, wasn't helpful either. "An attorney brought it by. Said one of his clients had wanted to give an anonymous donation to you, so I didn't question him."

  "Isn't it against hospital policy for staff to receive gifts from patients?"

  "Yes, but technically I can't prove the gift came from a patient, so if I were you, I'd take the money and run." She grinned. 'Honestly, the bean counters aren't concerned about who pays the bill, only that it gets paid. And yours is."

  "Who was the attorney?"

  Alice was apologetic. "Sorry. He didn't mention his name and as I don't run in legal circles, I didn't recognize him. If I were you, though, I'd say a prayer for the person responsible."

  "Oh, I will," she assured Alice. "Don't worry."

  As she walked from the accounting department, her mind raced with possibilities of what she could do with the extra money each month. She could finally have a mechanic diagnose the strange knock in her car's engine, replace her lumpy recliner, or just save her money for a larger apartment. Better yet, she could apply it to her other loan and pay it off sooner.

  By the time she returned to the ED, she still hadn't come down from her financial windfall high.

  "Good news?" Adrian asked as she approached the nurses' station.

  "The best," she said with a smile. "Excellent, in fact. So excellent that we're going to celebrate. Any requests for the weekend?"

  "Celebrate? Wow. What happened? You didn't win the lottery, did you?"

  She giggled. "Almost, but not quite. Someone paid off my hospital bill and it wasn't a small amount either."

  "No kidding. Who would do such a thing?"

  "I don't know. It was an anonymous donation, but…" she smiled "…I'll take it and rejoice in my unknown benefactor's generosity. So, what do you say we find a sitter and go someplace nice for dinner?"

  "I'm game. Where do you have in mind?"

  "How does Mexican food sound? I'm hungry for a beef enchilada smothered in cheese," she confessed.

  "Perfect." He glanced at the wall clock. "Things are quiet for the moment, so I'm headed to Radiology."

  "Still waiting for the MRI results on the patient in room three?" At his nod, she continued, "Do you really think the scans will show something they didn't a week ago?" Alan Cavendish had been brought in by his wife for the second time in as many weeks because of severe headaches and dizzy spells. Sabrina had arranged for a second scan before she'd slipped away to straighten out her paycheck problems.

  "Who knows? He came in at the end of my shift last week and the evening-shift doc handled his case. According to the records, he was treated for migraine and released. So
, if he's still having a problem, something's going on. I intend to convince the radiologist to move my case to the top of his to-be-read pile and to go over it with a fine-toothed comb."

  "I can do that for you," she offered.

  "Thanks, but I'd like to see the fellow myself." He grinned. "The coffee over there is better than ours anyway and I'm hoping to bum a cup off them." He strolled away, whistling.

  A few minutes later, just as she was about to check on Mr Cavendish, the exam-room door opened and his wife nearly knocked her over in her rush.

  "Thank God you're here," she said, her eyes wide. "He's having a seizure."

  Sabrina pushed past her and in a brief glance saw her husband's clenched jaw and twitching movements. "Pull the call cord," she instructed the woman as she began first aid until Adrian or one of the physicians' assistants arrived.

  Cavendish was already in a bed with the rails raised, so she didn't have to worry about him falling, but vomiting could be a problem, so she rolled him onto his side to prevent the possibility of aspiration.

  During her initial assessment, both he and his wife had denied this question, but she had to ask again. "He hasn't had any seizures before, has he?"

  "No. None. Is he going to be OK?"

  "We'll do everything we can." Sabrina held him in place as best she could, trying to keep his arms from banging on the aluminum side rails while she noted his respirations.

  The door opened and Hilary came in, took one look, and said, "I'll get Doctor," before she scurried out and returned a minute later with Adrian.

  "How long?" he asked tersely.

  "Since you went to Radiology."

  Grimly, he glanced at Hilary as he inclined his head in Mrs Cavendish's direction. "He'll need help, then." He rattled off a dosage while Hilary gently guided Alan's shocked wife from the room.

  Sabrina hated to question his order but she wanted to be sure she hadn't misunderstood. "That's a high dose," she commented.

  His gaze steadily met hers. "I know."

  "OK." Sabrina pulled the medication from the drug cart, double-checked the vial's label before she drew off the required amount, then injected it into Cavendish's IV port.

  At first nothing happened, then gradually Cavendish's seizure eased under their watchful eyes. Sabrina gently rolled him onto his back and covered him with a blanket.

  "Did you get your report?"

  He nodded, his expression still grim.

  Headaches, dizziness, and now a seizure added up to a serious problem. "What did the test show?"

  "Brain tumor."

  Her heart sank. "Oh, no. How bad is it?"

  "All brain tumors are bad."

  "I know, but is it operable?"

  "Mr Cavendish will need a lot more tests before the neurosurgeon can decide." He heaved a sigh. "In the meantime, call whichever neurologist, neurosurgeon and oncologist is available and arrange for a transfer to a medical floor."

  "Will do."

  "Oh, and schedule him for the next available EEG while I break the news to his wife."

  The electroencephalogram would record the electrical activity in the brain and convert those impulses into a tracing pattern which would then reflect the state of the brain. A tumor or other structural abnormality would shortcircuit those impulses, giving valuable information as to the location of the growth. She hoped Cavendish's tumor would be treatable.

  Sabrina contacted the on-call neuro people and spent the rest of the afternoon in a flurry of doctors' orders and test procedures while monitoring her patient and giving moral support to Alan's wife. By the end of the afternoon, his doctors were trying to decide between surgery and radiation or a combination of the two.

  Although this wasn't the first tragic case Sabrina had ever encountered, this one affected her more than most. Young people, young couples, always tugged at her heart.

  She quietly went about her business and when she got home she gave Jeremy an extra-long cuddle until he eventually squealed a protest.

  "My turn," Adrian said with a smile as he took Jeremy from her.

  "Maybe we shouldn't go out tonight," she said.

  "Why not? We're celebrating, remember?"

  "I know, but I just feel as if we…shouldn't. It just seems so wrong to have a good time when people like the Cavendishes are in crisis mode."

  "Moping won't change their situation," he told her.

  "I suppose not." She let out a long breath. "OK, we'll go."

  Yet as they sat in the fragrantly spicy atmosphere of Casa Ramon, enjoying a Mariachi band and eating their way through an appetizer of chips and three kinds of salsa as well as their dinner entrees, she realized Adrian's mood was more quiet and somber than usual and she wondered why.

  Was he more upset over the Cavendish case than he'd admitted? In all the time she'd known him, he'd never acted as if the tragedies he'd encountered at the hospital had ever weighed him down, although she did remember a few times when he'd been quiet and withdrawn. Naturally, he'd given any number of excuses for his mood—he was tired, had nothing to say, etc. and she'd accepted them without question.

  However, now she wondered if he'd felt the same sadness and disappointment as everyone else. Could it be that he'd simply been suffering in silence and hadn't wanted her, or anyone else for that matter, to know just how deeply he felt about his patients? That sort of behavior would certainly have ruined his tough, nothing-bothers-me macho image. The more she pondered, the more she could examine his character in a completely different light.

  "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly.

  He looked startled. "Talk about what?"

  "Whatever's bothering you."

  "Nothing's bothering me."

  She'd heard that one before. "You're quiet."

  "It's been a long day."

  That, too, was a familiar refrain.

  She spoke as if he'd answered her question. Instead of receiving encouragement, she chose to give it. "Alan Cavendish is in good hands. Dr Graham is an excellent oncologist and all the staff think highly of Dr James's neurosurgery skills."

  "So I've heard."

  "Did you know Alan and Nicole—that's his wife—have a two-year-old daughter? Apparently they'd been married for years and weren't able to have children, and then, bingo, along comes Lily."

  "Did Jeremy do anything special today at day care?"

  His abrupt change of subject suggested that she'd hit a sore spot. "He's seven months old, Adrian. He eats, sleeps and plays with his toys."

  "He's due for a lot of 'firsts', Bree," he said, as if she needed a reminder.

  "True, but—"

  "He could crawl any day," he said, sounding determined to focus the conversation on someone other than himself. "You can tell from looking at him that he's eager to go, but he hasn't quite figured out how to start his engine yet."

  Sweet baby Jane! How self-absorbed had she been to not have recognized his distraction techniques for what they were? How many other patients had caused him to internalize his struggles because he wouldn't talk about them? In fact, she now suspected why he'd been so close-lipped about Clay's accident, especially when he'd helped pay for the motorcycle in the first place. It had been too painful and the drastic events had only reinforced Adrian's lack of control over the situation.

  She leaned across the table to place her hand on his forearm, noting his tense muscles. "It's OK to be upset about our patient. You don't have to hide it from me."

  "I'm not upset." He fingered the condensation on his bottle. "We've seen thousands of cases like his. Life is short and doesn't come with any guarantees. Period."

  "Life is short, especially for some," she agreed, "but that doesn't mean we shouldn't feel badly at the injustice."

  He studied a point over her shoulder for several drawn-out seconds before he met her gaze. The pain in his eyes caused her heart to ache. But before she could think of something to say, he wiped all expression off his face.

  "Can we go?" he asked
abruptly.

  "Sure. Just let me ask the waiter for the—"

  "I got it." He rose, pulled out his wallet and tossed enough bills on the table to cover the meal and a generous tip.

  "This was my treat, remember?" she said as he ushered her to his vehicle as quickly as if they were racing to attend a code blue.

  "Considering all the meals I've eaten at your house, I owe you." He opened her car door.

  "You don't owe me anything," she said, sliding inside. "We had a nice dinner by ourselves and in wonderful surroundings."

  "When do we have to relieve Kate?"

  Kate was babysitting and she'd pulled Sabrina aside before they'd left the house to whisper her willingness to stay as late as Sabrina needed her…then she'd winked.

  "Whenever," she said airily. "I have a television now so Kate won't be bored after Jeremy goes to sleep."

  "There's a walking trail around my apartment complex," he said. "Do you mind if we go there for a while?"

  He obviously needed physical activity to release his tension. She was glad he'd suggested walking rather than working out at the gym because she'd rather be outdoors. "Not at all."

  Within twenty minutes they were moving along the paved walkway at a steady clip. Thank goodness her sandals were comfortable enough for walking, although if she'd suspected he'd planned a workout this evening, she would have worn her exercise clothes instead of a denim skirt and sleeveless blouse.

  "It's a lovely evening," she said as they passed through a shady grove of oak trees. "Not many people out yet, I see."

  She tried to keep up with his long-legged stride, but after she began huffing and puffing and earned a stitch in her side, she gave up and came to a dead stop. "That's it. If you want to play the tortoise and the hare, I'm game. When you're finished loping around the path, you can come back to me."

  "Sorry."

  As soon as she caught her breath, she started off and this time he matched her pace rather than set it.

  Once again she waited for him to initiate conversation and when he didn't, she took matters into her own hands and played on a hunch.

  "Tell me about your parents," she said.