What the Heart Wants ; Sealed with a Kiss

by Donna Hill

  Her face lit up. “Yes, Doctor.”

  She threw Dina a look she couldn’t quite read.

  “I’m going to get prepped,” Dina said to Franklin.

  Franklin didn’t respond as he took a seat next to Harold’s bed and talked with him and the family in low, measured tones outlining the procedure and reminding them of the risks.

  “I’m anticipating that everything will go well. The surgery will take at least five hours. So I don’t want you to worry,” he said, addressing Harold’s wife. “Okay then.” He stood. “Just relax in the meantime, Harold.” He patted his shoulder, nodded to Harold’s wife and daughters, then walked out.

  * * *

  The first team removed the donor heart and prepared it for transplant. Franklin and his team waited behind the glass partition until it was their time to enter the operating theater.

  When Harold was wheeled in he was already mildly sedated. Franklin leaned over him, reassured him and promised to see him back in his room. He gave the okay to the anesthesiologist to put Harold under and the transplant began.

  Franklin and Dina worked in tandem, often completing each other’s moves without a word spoken. Franklin instructed and coordinated every action of the team. Anna oversaw the surgical nurses. Everyone involved worked with the precision of a Swiss clock.

  They had been at work for nearly three hours. Franklin made the final arterial preparation for delivery of the heart, lowered it in place and began the long and intricate work of making all the connections.

  “Take him off bypass,” he instructed, nearly an hour later.

  The room went still. Everyone seemed to hold their collective breath. This was the defining moment of success or failure.

  One of the nurses wiped the sweat from Franklin’s forehead.

  “Paddles.”

  Anna handed him the paddles.

  “Charge.”

  “Charging.”

  “Clear.”

  All eyes darted between the vision of Harold’s new heart and the machines. Nothing.

  “Charge,” Franklin called out again. “Clear.”

  Then like magic the heart began to beat and audible relief filled the room.

  Franklin slowly exhaled and removed his goggles. “Dr. Lorde, would you close, please?”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  The machines suddenly screamed, that high-pitched wail no doctor wants to hear. Everyone sprang into action.

  * * *

  Franklin stood immobile in the scrub room. The rest of the team had departed. He kept rewinding every moment of the procedure through his head. Textbook. His nostrils flared as he sucked in air. The hardest part was waiting for him on the other side of the swinging doors.

  “Frank. Franklin.”

  He blinked the room back into focus. His jaw clenched.

  Dina crossed the space to stand in front of him. She reached out to touch him and he flinched. Her eyes widened in surprise. She took a step back.

  Franklin snatched his surgical cap from his head and tossed it in the bin, then brushed by Dina without a word.

  Chapter 25

  Franklin sat alone in the dark of his office. The tortured faces of Harold’s family moved like phantoms across his line of sight. His stomach clenched and unclenched. What went wrong? Every move he’d made was precise. He didn’t miss anything. He couldn’t have. But obviously he did.

  He rested his head in his hands. As a surgeon he knew losing a patient was inevitable in your career but it didn’t make the reality any easier. He could still hear the sobs of Harold’s wife echoing in his head. He slammed his fist on his desk rattling everything in its wake.

  His desk phone rang. He snatched it up. Listened.

  “Yes. Of course. I’ll be there shortly.”

  Slowly he returned the phone to the cradle. And so it begins. He straightened his tie, put on his lab coat and headed to the penthouse floor to meet with the hospital president.

  * * *

  Dina sat opposite Anna at a table in the cafeteria, nursing a cup of tea. The aroma of meat loaf, the day’s special, filled the air and roiled her stomach. Indistinguishable conversation buzzed around her. Images of white coats and blue scrubs moved in and out of her peripheral vision.

  “I’m sure there will be an inquiry,” Anna said.

  Dina slid her gaze toward Anna.

  “They always do when someone dies during surgery. We’ll have to testify.”

  Dina didn’t respond. All she could think about was Franklin, what he must be feeling, and she couldn’t shake the look she’d witnessed on his face. It was as if his soul had left his body. There was emptiness in his eyes.

  “Are you okay?”

  Dina focused on Anna. “Yes. I suppose so. I don’t know. Still processing, I guess.”

  “Well, just prepare yourself to get called in.” She brought the foam cup to her lips. “Definitely won’t be good for Dr. Grant.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Anna looked around then leaned forward, her voice lowered. “Well, there was already buzzing that they wanted to bring someone else in to run the department. Dr. Grant isn’t the ‘friendliest.’ Doesn’t play the politics.”

  “Doesn’t kiss ass you mean,” Dina said.

  “Hey, I’m just telling you what I’ve heard. This will give them more ammunition while they sideline him during the inquiry.” She sipped her coffee.

  Losing his position within the hospital after all that he had achieved with revolutionary techniques in heart surgery, and all the hard work and dedication that he devoted to the hospital would completely devastate him. If anyone understood how much what he did every day meant to the health and survival of countless patients, she did.

  “Just an FYI,” Anna added, cutting into the twist of Dina’s dark thoughts, “if I were you I would steer clear of Dr. Grant for a minute. At least until after the inquiry. One of the things the board will look at is whether or not anyone is working together to corroborate their stories. If you get my meaning.”

  Dina’s insides flipped. Her gaze drifted away. She needed to talk with him. “I’m going to head home.” She slowly rose to her feet. “Thanks for the information.” She pushed her chair under the table.

  “Don’t forget what I said. For the time being steer clear. For your own good.”

  Dina didn’t bother to respond. She forced a tight-lipped smile and walked away. She couldn’t determine if Anna was trying to actually be helpful or was secretly pleased. There was an undertone of satisfaction. But maybe she was being overly sensitive and reading more into what Anna was saying.

  Although Anna warned her to steer clear, she went straight to Franklin’s office anyway, hoping to find him there. There was no answer when she knocked.

  “If you’re looking for Dr. Grant, he’s gone for the day,” the charge nurse said as she walked by Dina.

  “Oh. Thanks.” She continued down the hall toward the bank of elevators. Part of her wanted to go by Franklin’s condo and talk with him face-to-face. But in the weeks and months she’d worked with him and especially since they’d been together, there was one thing she’d learned about Franklin. He validated much of his worth by the quality of his work. And knowing him the way she did, right about now he was questioning his worth, his value and his skill as a surgeon. He wouldn’t listen to her until he was ready. She’d give him the night, let him have some space, but first thing in the morning they were going to talk. The hell with the board.

  She pulled out her cell phone and ordered an Uber to take her home.

  * * *

  Franklin sat in the waiting area, outside Dr. Freeman’s office, who not only served as president of the hospital but as medical director. He knew what was coming and braced himself for the impact. He’d sat in on several inquiries throughout the years. They could be brutal. And i
f there was even a hint of incompetence or liability on the part of the doctor, there was not much to protect you. Having a patron, someone to speak on your behalf, always went a long way. He’d never been one to cultivate those relationships, and now he feared he would pay the price.

  “Dr. Grant, you can go in now.”

  Franklin gave a short nod of thanks, stood, straightened his jacket and went into Dr. Freeman’s office.

  The opulent space was outfitted in heavy teak wood, imported rugs, crystal objects on shelves lined with thick leather-bound medical books, plaques on the wall beside framed photos of Freeman with Presidents Obama, Bush 43 and Carter, and numerous entertainment icons.

  This was the first time he’d been called to the inner sanctum, although he’d interacted with the president on various occasions. It was clear that the space was designed to overwhelm and perhaps intimidate anyone crossing the threshold. None of that set him back on his heels like seeing Lindsay sitting at the rectangular table with Dr. Freeman.

  “Dr. Grant.” Freeman rose and extended his hand, which Franklin shook. “Please have a seat. I wanted to have Ms. Gray join us for this discussion.”

  Franklin gave Lindsay a cursory nod, pulled out a chair and sat. It had been more than a year since he’d seen Lindsay and that was purely by chance. He’d been in Georgetown with the intention of meeting up with Montgomery to look at a property he was thinking of adding to his coffers. He’d decided to get a quick cup of coffee and literally opened the door for Lindsay. She’d been as shocked as he was. The first awkward seconds caused a gridlock in the doorway until Franklin finally stood back and she stepped out. She was still put-together from head to toe, as his mother would often say about women who dressed well and expensively.

  Lindsay, how are you? he’d said.

  I’m well. She’d reached up and smoothed his brow with a light brush of her thumb in that proprietary way she had that was equal parts sensual and controlling. I guess this is a day off for you. She’d smiled up at him.

  He’d slung his hands into the back pockets of his jeans to keep from touching her. Meeting up with Monty.

  Her amber eyes had widened with apparent delight. What is Mo up to now? Still taking over the world a block at a time? Her musical laugh trilled in his chest.

  He’d half smiled. Something like that.

  She drew in a breath, placed her hand on his arm. It was really good to see you, Frank.

  Yeah. You, too.

  I’ve got to run. Meeting. Take care and don’t work too hard. She’d squeezed his arm and hurried off, never looking back.

  “Can I have my assistant get you anything before we begin?” Freeman asked, jerking him back to the table.

  Franklin blinked away the past. “Nothing for me. Thank you.”

  Lindsay leaned across the table and picked up the silver carafe of water, poured a full glass and sat back down.

  Freeman flipped open a thick manila folder, took his glasses from the breast pocket of his navy pinstripe suit and slid the half frames along his chiseled nose. He cleared his throat. “As you know any time there is a loss of life in the operating room that was not directly the result of traumatic injury there must be a full inquiry.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “The reason why I asked Ms. Gray to attend is that she will handle the public relations end. The last thing we want is bad publicity for the hospital. As a member of the board, her services are invaluable and she will work with the best interest of the hospital at the forefront.”

  Franklin threaded his fingers together on top of the high-gloss table, clenched his jaw. His gaze swung toward Lindsay. “I’m sure.”

  “In the interest of protocol, unfortunately we have no other alternative than to put you on administrative leave until the full inquiry has been concluded.”

  Even though he knew it was coming it didn’t soften the feeling of getting sucker-punched.

  Freeman turned the folder around and slid it toward Franklin. “That is the letter detailing your leave and your agreement to the terms. Of course we’ve had the hospital attorney look it over, but it is our standard letter.”

  “Once admin leave is in place, we’ll need to sit down and discuss talking points and what any releases to the press will say,” Lindsay said.

  Freeman took off his glasses and set them on the table. “Sometimes it’s better during these...times that the doctor under investigation actually takes some time off.”

  “It’s actually easier for you and for the hospital,” Lindsay added softly.

  “So basically both of you are telling me to get lost because I’m bad on the optics!” He pushed back from his seat so forcefully it rocked on its back legs before settling. “What about my patients? What about all the work that I’m doing, my team?” He glared at them both.

  Freeman held up his hand. “I totally understand that you’re upset, Dr. Grant. But I can assure you that none of your patients will suffer because of this setback. We will put someone in place to take over your caseload and oversee any upcoming procedures.”

  Franklin’s nostrils flared. He knew this was all part of the process. He’d witnessed it happen to others. He’d never imagined that it would be him. He pushed out a breath. He reached for the folder and snatched it toward him.

  Freeman offered him a pen. Franklin declined and took one from the pocket of his lab coat. He scrawled his signature on the required line and slid the folder back across the desk.

  “I know this is difficult,” Freeman said.

  “Do you?”

  Freeman’s puffed cheeks flamed. He cleared his throat, stood. “We’ll be in touch.”

  Franklin squared his shoulders, nodded. “Who is going to take over for me while I’m on ‘leave’?”

  “We’re considering Dr. Hamilton.”

  Chapter 26

  Franklin stood out on his balcony, overlooking the city that he loved. Beyond the dusty-gold horizon was nothing but possibility. Yet, DC, the center of all things good and just, the cornerstone of America’s democracy, had cast its vote against him.

  He tossed back the last of the bourbon in his glass and braced his forearms on the wrought iron railing, playing and replaying the scene in Freeman’s office. He was still rocked from seeing Lindsay in the room. Lindsay, judging and assessing him—determining how the world would see him.

  The truth was Lindsay was damned good at her job. That much he knew for a fact. She didn’t rise to manage one of the most influential public relations and marketing businesses in DC without knowing what she was doing. She could turn fact into fiction with a simple smile, have you believing crap you knew wasn’t true, but it must be because she said so. She was savvy, manipulative and totally driven, and at the same time completely insecure. She operated under the premise that she had to be one up on any and everyone out to get her to improve her sense of self-worth—even when it came to personal relationships.

  It had taken him a long time to see through the polished veneer of Lindsay to the fragile woman underneath. But that understanding wasn’t enough to hold them together. He was skilled at healing broken bodies, restoring viability to worn and tired organs. When it came to broken souls he was at a loss. Fixing Lindsay was beyond him. An ability to right what was wrong in her soul wasn’t in his skill set.

  The ringing of his phone severed the trip down memory lane. He turned around and went inside to retrieve his cell. The lighted number was Dina’s. As much as he wanted to talk with her, he knew all about protocol. It was enough that they were seeing each other. If it got out that they talked after he’d been dismissed, it could cause all kinds of problems. The phone continued to ring. Finally he gave in to his lesser instincts.

  “Hello.”

  “Franklin. I stopped by your office.”

  “Before you say anything else, let’s end this conversation now.” His stom
ach knotted.

  “But—”

  “No. We can’t do this. For both our sakes. I’m sure you understand. Thanks for calling, Dina. Goodbye.” He pressed the red icon on the phone and disconnected the call. His head lowered as he pushed out a ragged breath, tossed the phone on the couch and went to fix another drink.

  * * *

  Dina plopped down on the side of her bed. She got the whole idea about protocol and tainting the waters, but this was them—her and Franklin. She believed that what they were building was real, not something that could get shoved under the rug at the first sign of trouble. Granted, the loss of a patient was a doctor’s nightmare, but they should be in this together; if not for the public at least for each other. She knew how much it meant to have someone there for you even when you believed you didn’t. When she lost her parents, it was the most devastating, soul-emptying experience of her life.

  As an only child she didn’t have siblings to cry with or to draw strength from. Living with her aunt wasn’t any better, only to wind up in foster care until she aged out of the system. From the age of fifteen she was basically alone. She’d learned to insulate herself from the hurt of connecting with anyone, even as she longed for what she saw around her every day, friends, family.

  For the first time in years, she’d discovered that no matter how much she wanted to stand behind her wall of self-protection, she couldn’t fight what the heart wanted. Her heart wanted Franklin Grant.

  She flopped back onto the bed spread-eagle and stared up at the hypnotically spinning ceiling fan.

  When she was a young girl, living with her aunt, she would spend hours staring up at the ceiling fan imagining that it could magically turn back time, return her home before the accident. Before her entire world changed.

  Sighing, she pushed herself upright. Wallowing was not going to get her anywhere. Revisiting her past was pointless. Her present was what was important. She would give Franklin the space that he needed. For now.