George Hartmann Box Set

by Kelly Utt

  Dr. Wong takes a deep breath as if he's collecting himself and gathering the courage to continue. He closes the chart in his hands and folds it sideways under one arm, then looks at me intently.

  "Dr. Hartmann, your wife is pregnant."

  "What?” I ask in disbelief. “Our baby… I mean, our youngest son, well, he isn't even seven-months-old yet. And he’s still breastfeeding."

  "It happens," Marjorie says with a smile. "Breastfeeding usually suppresses ovulation, but not always. It's not a reliable method of birth control. I thought you knew that, George."

  "I guess, technically, I did," I say with a smile of my own.

  I can't help but think this is wonderful news. A new baby coming to join our family. Number four, just like Ali and I have always wanted.

  "This is happy news, right?" I ask.

  Roddy leans forward and rubs Marjorie’s back again, this time between the shoulder blades. He smiles, but it's a solemn smile. A reserved a smile. He's holding back, reserving his enthusiasm until we hear the rest of the story.

  "It would have been very happy news,” Marjorie begins. "And it is happy news..."

  Dr. Wong looks sad as he prepares to dash our hopes.

  "Alessandra's right hip has been essentially crushed," he says. "And her spleen ruptured as I mentioned. In cases like these, the mother’s body is under such stress that the fetus typically isn't able to survive."

  "Oh, no," I say.

  "How far along is she?” Liam asks.

  "We estimate about eight weeks," Dr. Wong replies. “We will know more once we’re able to do an ultrasound and take some measurements to estimate gestational age. We have a fetal heartbeat as of right now. If a miscarriage is going to happen, it will be soon. The shock of the trauma to the mother’s body is usually too much for the fetus to withstand. Early pregnancy is delicate. It’s still the first trimester."

  A single tear rolls out of my eye and down my cheek as I look up to the ceiling and the heavens beyond it. We have a fourth baby and the baby has a heartbeat. I am thrilled. We want this. So, why on earth would a kind God give us a new life to love and cherish and protect, but then take it away? This isn't fair at all. I can’t wrap my mind around the prospect of not only losing Ali but of losing our fourth baby, too.

  "The new baby and little John William will be so close in age, almost like they're twins," I say excitedly. I can't help myself. "Don't they call babies close in age like that Irish twins?"

  "You're right, they do," Marjorie says with a smile. "That's a really nice thought."

  Liam puts one arm around my shoulders like he's done so often before when I've needed a steadying influence.

  "George, buddy," my uncle begins. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves here. I know this is gut-wrenching. But let's listen to the rest of what Dr. Wong has to say."

  I shake my head back-and-forth. My body is saying no again. Even if I say yes with my words my body is rejecting any bad news that Dr. Wong is trying to tell me.

  “Dr. Hartmann,” Dr. Wong continues. "We don't know if your wife is going to survive the next twenty-four hours. I don't want to hurt you, but I owe it to you to be blunt. If Alessandra makes it through surgery, she has a tough road ahead of her which will probably include an extended stay in the hospital. She was so weak when we found her that she's susceptible to a number of complications as we work to treat her in an attempt to restore her back to good health. If she makes it through all of that, it's highly unlikely the fetus will."

  "It's a baby," I say. "Will you stop calling it a fetus and call it a baby? It's my baby. Mine and Ali's. It's a baby with a heartbeat. You said so yourself. "

  "I understand,” Dr. Wong says, then changes his term. “It's unlikely that the baby will survive."

  Tears stream out of both eyes now and I find myself wrapping my arms tightly around my torso as I embrace myself. I begin to rock back-and-forth. It's self-soothing. My mind, body, and spirit are trying to cope as best they can.

  "Doctor," Roddy inquires. "How long do you expect my daughter’s surgery to take?”

  "They're prepping her now,” Dr. Wong explains. "I'll be ready to begin within twenty or thirty minutes after I leave you. Total time will depend on what we find when we get in there, but I estimate somewhere between eight and ten hours. The hip will take the longest to repair."

  "Why aren't you in a hurry?" I ask, beginning to get agitated. "Shouldn't you be rushing around, working to save my wife and our baby?"

  Liam raises his hand and pats me on the shoulder in an effort to signal me to tone it down.

  "I understand your concern,” Dr. Wong answers. "We will do this expeditiously, but rushing around won't make a difference. This is primarily a watch-and-wait situation. The biggest concerns are the amount of blood loss, dehydration, managing internal bleeding, and the potential for her body going into shock. The repairs are certainly urgent, but stabilizing her system is the priority. It seems counterintuitive, but surgery will actually tax her body even further. Although, it has to be done, of course."

  Dr. Wong seems like a nice man, but I don't think bedside manner is his strong suit. He sees that I need reassurance, so he scoots forward in his chair to talk directly to me.

  "Dr. Hartmann," he says. "You can trust me. I'm going to take the best care of your wife possible. This is a regional medical center and we have the highest level of equipment. We also have top-tier doctors and nurses and surgical team. We're well-qualified and prepared to guarantee the best possible outcome."

  I turn my head to one side, again not wanting to take this information in.

  "We appreciate that, Dr. Wong,” Roddy says. "We're just worried about our girl."

  “That's right,” I say. "And our baby."

  Liam gives my shoulders another squeeze, then nods at Dr. Wong to let him know that he has me.

  Dr. Wong promises to come back and update us as soon as surgery is complete. He tells us Clara will be back in the meantime with periodic check-ins. He excuses himself politely, then heads back into the bowels of the hospital building to operate on my wife.

  To the staff here, Ali is just another patient. She's another statistic. And our baby, well, they clearly see him or her as a secondary concern. I hope Dr. Wong and his team find a way to be their best today. I hope they look at my wife's face, bruised and bloody as it may be, and see a dear, special, human being who is loved beyond measure.

  We wait for what feels like many hours. Marjorie is exhausted and is still recovering from the crash, so she goes upstairs to get a little rest. Sometime around sunrise, Roddy, Liam, and I begin to feel to cloistered in the private room. So, we move out to the main emergency department waiting area. It's not very busy this morning. There are only two other sets of people waiting on word about their family members. It feels better out here. It feels like I can breathe more easily. We watch cable news on the overhead TVs and we thumb through magazines scattered on the coffee tables. But we’re not paying attention to either.

  Dr. Adams returns to the hospital bright and early and she comes to talk to me about Leo's surgery on his legs. I haven't been back up to the room because I don't want to go too far from Ali in case they allow me a chance to see her. I've been communicating by text with Mom, who is still upstairs watching over the boys along with Joe. Liam has been going back and forth. He was also kind enough to bring me and Roddy breakfast from the cafeteria. We didn’t feel like eating much, but Liam convinced us to stuff some protein down in order to keep our energy up. He tells me I’m going to need my strength. I know he’s right.

  Dr. Adams says Leo’s surgery can wait until this afternoon, which buys me some time to focus on Ali. Leo is receiving pain medication through his IV and Mom tells me he appears to be comfortable enough.

  My mind wants to do something. Anything to be occupied and to feel like I am useful. I decide to go ahead and get busy on business plans, so I ask Clara for some paper and a pen. The request probably seems strange to her, but then again
, everyone handles stress a little differently. I'm sure she has seen stranger things than business planning happening in this waiting room.

  I pick up a thick magazine off one of the tables and use it as a hard surface below my sheets of paper. Although, I don’t write anything down right away because I'm deep in thought.

  We need to get going on this business immediately. We can't wait for a long period of research and development. We have to start right away, even if it's quick and dirty. We can refine later. One of us needs to get back to Ithaca and register the business so we can start making moves.

  "Hey, Liam?” I ask.

  "Yeah, buddy?" my uncle replies.

  "I want to get the business going immediately so we can get drones in the air. I want drones to both watch over my family and to try and find the guys involved. I should have done that six months ago. Maybe we wouldn’t be here in this situation right now if I had."

  "Are you saying you want me to go back to Ithaca to get something set up?" he asks.

  "Maybe so, yeah. I'm not sure how long I'm going to be here with Ali and Leo.”

  "If that's what you need," Liam confirms. "I could go back and register the business, then set up a bank account. I suppose we could both make deposits to get some working capital allocated."

  "Exactly,” I say. "I should be able to send signed documents to you from here once they're notarized, but I think one of us really needs to be in person in Ithaca to expedite."

  "I can find a warehouse of some sort where we can store equipment and set up a base of operations.”

  "I think that's the play here," I say.

  Roddy is listening closely but hasn't said anything yet.

  "Roddy, how does this sound to you?" I ask.

  Roddy raises one hand to his mouth and moves it back-and-forth across his lips carefully as he thinks.

  "I like your decisiveness, George," my father-in-law says.

  I smile a little. So far, so good as far as keeping myself occupied with something besides worry about Ali.

  "Let's do it then," I say. "Right away. Liam, how soon can you leave?"

  Usually, my uncle would make some joke about me trying to get rid of him. But not today. He understands the urgency. He also understands the fact that I need to do something in order to feel better. Maybe he's humoring me, for all I know. Either way, this is happening.

  "I am totally flexible, George,” Liam says. I can get back to the rental house, pack my things, and be on the first plane out of Reno tomorrow morning. As you know, I'm more than accustomed to flying on short notice.”

  "Good," I say. “Let’s hash out some preliminary steps and then get you on your way."

  "Okay, then."

  "So, let's decide how to structure this amongst us. Should we set up the company with five owners?" I ask.

  "That's up to you and Liam," Roddy says. "This is your baby."

  Roddy looks a little sad after saying that. I actually don't mind. It lets me know he's human and makes mistakes like the rest of us. I realize he didn't mean anything by it. I quickly re-focus back on the task at hand.

  "I could go a number of ways," I say. We could list five owners of the company. Or we could list just the three of us. Or just me and Liam. Truly, that's not my concern right now.”

  "I don't think Duke or Taye expect to necessarily be equal partners,” Liam says.

  "I agree," Roddy says. "I think any percentage ownership in the venture will make them happy.”

  I take a moment to weigh the pros and cons in my mind, but I don't think this is worth spending much energy on at this juncture.

  "Fine," I say. “The three of us will be equal partners, each owning a third. After all, we’re family. It only makes sense. We will have documents drawn up offering Duke and Taye shares in the company and then we will have an attorney figure out those logistics later. To begin, Let's write up official offers of employment for Duke and Taye with nice salaries and the promise of being shareholders just as soon as we have time to get those details sorted out."

  "I think that sounds like a great idea,” Liam says.

  "Agreed," Roddy confirms. "What kind of salaries do you want to offer Duke and Taye? I wouldn't want to see either of them start lower than six figures."

  "Same here," I say. "For Duke, that's a nice raise. But for Taye, we're going to have to figure out how to get him full-time because he makes an ample living with his private security business. I think we should offer him something attractive as an incentive to focus his efforts with us. Perhaps he can hire someone to keep his other business going until he’s certain how he can juggle his various responsibilities.”

  "Offer Taye a quarter of a million annually,” Roddy says. "I'll cover his salary if need be. He's worth it."

  "Okay, then,” I say. "I don't mind covering his salary either. Liam, can you handle discussions with Taye? Explain to him that we need him in Ithaca for a period of at least six months while we get things off the ground. Compensate him any way you see fit. I’m not opposed to some sort of sign on bonus or relocation package to make up for the short notice."

  "Roger that," my uncle confirms. "Happy to help. I assume you want Duke full-time right away as well.”

  "For sure," I reply. "Offer him a one hundred thousand dollar annual salary with the promise that his earnings will go up before long. Tell him we need him right away. A sign-on bonus is appropriate as well.”

  We seem to be drawing a bit of attention, so I lower my voice before continuing on.

  "Lease space that has room for eight offices. Purchase necessary computer and telephone equipment for each workstation."

  "Eight? my uncle asks. "There are five of us, so what are you thinking?"

  Roddy and Liam both look at me curiously.

  "Remember Omar Henderson?" I ask Liam.

  “Oh, yeah!” he exclaims, getting excited. “Of course I remember Omar. He was my friend before he was yours, don’t forget.”

  “Who is Omar?” Roddy inquires.

  I gesture for Liam to tell him.

  “Omar and his wife Bette are old friends of ours from D.C.,” he explains. “Estella knew Bette professionally and that turned into double dates for the four of us. George met them both one Thanksgiving Day, less than a month before he met Ali.”

  Roddy smiles upon hearing this.

  “That’s right,” I confirm. “Seeing Omar and Bette together was the catalyst that helped me realize I was ready to meet the love of my life. Just a few weeks later, she appeared.”

  “That’s a great story,” Roddy says. “I don’t think I’ve heard it before.”

  “Probably not,” I say. “Ali knew the Hendersons, but we lost touch not long after Ali and I got married. We always liked them. I’m not sure why we didn’t keep up with each other better. But they’re great people.”

  “They were out of town the weekend of the wedding,” Liam adds, leaning over at an angle towards Roddy.

  “So, what can Omar contribute to the company?” Roddy asks.

  “A lot, actually,” Liam says, raising his eyebrows high. “Really good idea, George.”

  “Thanks,” I begin.

  I smile as I think about the usefulness of my suggestion. It feels good to be useful.

  “Omar has a Master’s degree in criminal justice. He was in the program when I met him.”

  “Yeah,” Liam picks up where I leave off. “And for more than a decade now, he’s been a member of the secret service.”

  Roddy’s face lights up. He seems to like what he’s hearing.

  “I see,” he says. “Would he leave that gig to come work with us?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” Liam says. “I’ve been in loose touch with him over the years. I can reach out and ask. He and Bette have a couple of kids who should be late elementary or middle-school age by now. I’m not sure he’d be willing to uproot them.”

  “Do you want him, George?” Roddy asks.

  “Absolutely,” I reply without hesi
tation.

  “And we want our entire team in Ithaca, right?”

  “I think that’s best,” I reply. “Don’t you guys?”

  They both agree that they do.

  “Liam, my friend,” Roddy says, placing a hand on my uncle’s shoulder. “Make it happen. I’d start the discussion at a quarter of a million annually and the promise of company shares, same as you’re doing with Taye. Sounds like Omar will be worth every penny and then some.”

  “Yes, sir,” Liam says. “Will do.”

  We give each other a round of high fives, careful not to be too exuberant given our surroundings.

  “Ok, that’s six,” Liam says. “Who’s next, boss?”

  I bristle at being called boss, but I decide not to make an issue of it. I know my uncle means well.

  “None other than Pepe Dali,” I say. “Do some research. If everything he told us at the lake the other day checks out, get in touch with him and make an offer. I’m thinking an annual salary of one hundred and fifty or one hundred and seventy-five thousand is a good start for him. I figure he might be making near that at Stanford, but when you factor in the lower cost of living in Ithaca, I think it’s fair. We can revisit salaries in six months or so, once we have a chance to get a firm handle on everyone’s strengths. How does that sound?”

  “Good. Done,” Liam says.

  "Now who is number eight?" Roddy asks. "Are you going to tell me you have another long-lost friend who would be perfect for the company?"

  Liam chuckles. This lighter mood Is working wonders for me. It seems like I can only take so much bad news at a time. I need to alternate it with a little bit of regular life and topics of conversation in order to digest the nasty stuff.

  "No, sir," I reply. "Number eight has got to be some kind of project manager who can keep us organized and on track. I'm not sure what that job description should look like or who we can find to fill it. Liam, I'll leave that to you."

  "I can handle it,” my uncle says. "Hell, we need somebody who can answer the phones, too. I'll do some searching and see what I can come up with. I'll put feelers out with my contacts."

  "You might try the engineering department at Cornell," I say. "They are a nice group of people. I'm still bummed that I didn't end up working with them. Call the dean and tell him I suggested you get in touch."