Error in Diagnosis (34 page)

THREE MONTHS LATER

 

The elevator came to a smooth stop at the eighth floor. With a box of peanut brittle tucked under his arm, Jack made his way down the central corridor of Southeastern State's obstetrical unit.

To say the least, it had been a tumultuous three months. In addition to his clinical responsibilities at the medical school, he had made four trips to Florida to visit Tess. He had also attended more meetings and debriefings on GNS than he would have imagined possible.

Jack had just walked past the nursing station when he saw a man approaching. Jack didn't need to study his face. His distinctive limp and paunchy silhouette instantly revealed his identity.

“When did you get into town, Doc?” Bud Kazminski asked.

“I just arrived.” Jack extended his hand. With a reserved grin, he asked, “I assume you're not here visiting a friend?”

“Sherry delivered this morning—a healthy eight-pound boy.” Kaz's grin was uncontrollable.

Jack shook his hand again. “That's great news, but I thought she wasn't due for another couple of weeks.”

“So did we, but Sherry's never one to do anything in a conventional style or on schedule.”

“Is she still feeling okay?”

“Thanks to you, she is.”

Jack said, “I saw your latest story on GNS in the Sunday paper. I thought you told me you weren't going to write any more articles.”

“My editor had other ideas,” he answered. “You know, I once did a story on a guy who had been rescued from a mountain top after being struck by lightning. A total stranger carried him down on his back two miles to a hospital. I interviewed the victim. Do you know what was the most interesting thing he told me?”

Jack shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“The guy was forever plagued by his inability to sufficiently thank the man who had saved him. I could never quite figure it out myself until about three months ago.” Kazminski took a few steps forward and placed his hands on Jack's shoulders. “Thank you, Dr. Wyatt.”

“I . . . I really don't know what to say.”

“You don't have to say anything,” Kazminski assured him. “Are you here to see the Ryans' baby?”

“I am.”

“I assume you heard about Sinclair.”

Jack shook his head. “Only that he had resigned several weeks ago.”

“The hospital gossip has it that he hasn't been able to find another position anywhere in the country.” Kaz shrugged but said nothing further on the topic. “I won't hold you up any longer, Doc. By the way, I'm sure Sherry would love for you to see the baby. If you have time, stop in and see what your good work has accomplished.”

“Of course,” Jack promised. “If you don't mind me asking, any progress with Lisa?”

“I'd say there's been a noticeable thaw over the last couple of months. We had dinner together the other night for the first time in a very long time.”

“That's great to hear,” Jack said with a broad smile.

Jack started back down the hall. He snuck a look back over his shoulder. Kaz was still watching him. Smiling broadly, Jack tossed him a final wave followed by a celebratory fist pound.

Jack knocked twice and then pushed open the door to Tess's room. She was sitting in a recliner cradling Katie Michelle Ryan to her chest. With a gleam in his eye and a prideful grin, Mike hovered over the two women in his life, looking as proud as Jack had ever seen him.

“Hi, Jack,” Tess said. “Where have you been? We expected you a couple of hours ago.”

He walked over and placed the peanut brittle on her nightstand. “I brought you a month's supply of your favorite junk food.” He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “That's some beautiful baby, shorty. You did well.”

Mike pointed to himself and then gave Jack a bear hug. “Don't I get any of the credit?”

“Congrats to you too, Papa.”

“I hope you're planning on staying for at least a few
days this time,” Tess said. “We really haven't had a chance to visit with you.”

“We'll see. How are you feeling? Have you had any more of those headaches or—”

“I'm fine, Jack. I'm the most grateful patient you'll ever have, but it's time to stop worrying about me. Every time you and Mike look at me, you make me feel like you're staring at somebody on borrowed time.”

“Okay, I'll ease up,” Jack said.

“Have you been in touch with Madison?” she asked with a nonchalant inflexion in her voice, tucking a pink blanket snugly around little Katie.

With a forgiving frown, he shook his head. “Why is that the first thing you two always ask me?”

“Because you never give us a straight answer,” she explained. “It's a shame. You guys make such a cute couple.”

“I think you've already mentioned that to me about a million times. It's too bad your illness didn't erase that part of your brain that's obsessed with fixing me up. Madison and I are colleagues—and that's where it ends.”

“Please, Jack. Everybody knows you have a huge crush on her.”

“Really? Who's everybody?”

“Well, your mother for one.”

“My mother was cut from the same cloth you two were and doesn't—”

“I'm willing to bet Madison doesn't even know you're in Florida,” she said.

Jack looked over at Mike and gave him the kind of knowing smile only the two of them could understand.

“Don't look at me for help. I'm on her side,” Mike said holding his hands up in surrender.

Just at that moment, the door opened and Madison walked in. Jack absently cleared his throat.

“Hi,” he said, with a wave of his hand.

“How did your meeting with the president go? I heard he awarded you some kind of hero's citation,” she said, walking over to Tess. “And how's that gorgeous baby?”

“She's perfect.”

“We've completed all of our tests. Katie couldn't be any healthier. You guys can take her home in the morning.”

“We were hoping you'd say that,” Mike said as he reached into his back pocket. “Chicago's in town tonight to play the Heat. I have two courtside seats I can't use. I thought you might like them . . . as a small token of our appreciation.”

“I'd love to go,” Madison said, accepting the tickets from Mike. “I went to Northwestern for undergrad. I'm a huge Bulls fan.” She studied the tickets. “Boy, these really are great seats.”

Mike turned to Jack. “You don't have any plans tonight, do you, buddy?”

With wary eyes and caution in his voice, he answered, “Actually, I was planning on spending the evening right here with my dearest friends in the world.”

“Don't take this the wrong way,” Mike said, putting his hand on Jack's shoulder. “But I think Tess and I would rather be alone tonight.” He looked over at Tess. “Isn't that right, baby?”

“Alone—definitely alone. We can spend a lot of time with you tomorrow, Jack.”

They all looked at him at once.

“It looks like you're free after all,” Madison said. “So, what do you say? Would you like to go to the game with me?”

“Uh . . . yeah, sure, why not?”

“Great. Mike told me you're staying with them. I'll pick you up at around five thirty. I know a terrific Indian restaurant that's a couple of blocks from the arena.”

“Sounds great.” Jack cleared his throat again and added, “I'd like to show you that GNS article I've been working on for the
New England Journal of Medicine
.”

“And I'd love to go over it with you in detail . . . but not tonight.”

“Well, I . . . I didn't necessarily mean—”

Mike play-pinched Jack's cheek. “Enjoy the game, buddy.”

With a grin he had no hope of containing, Jack looked at Madison. It was at that moment that all the awkwardness and anxiety that always consumed him in her presence vanished as quickly as skywriting on a windy summer's
day.

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