Heart Like Mine (23 page)

She thought she saw his eyelids flutter, but he didn't further acknowledge her. She just kept talking quietly as he breathed in, out, in, out—more to keep her own self sane than because she thought he needed inane conversation to keep him company.

As she watched him, his little body reminded her so much of Parker's that she had to blink back tears. He had the same reddish-brown hair, the same tiny freckles, the same sort of dump-truck pajamas Parker had always worn in the hospital. He had the same little ears, too, and she'd be willing to bet they heard just as much as Parker's had.

She remembered one night, she'd crept to the top of the stairs because her parents were arguing, and knowing full well that she shouldn't be listening, she did anyway. That was the night she'd learned her brother was never going to grow up, and she'd fled back to her bed, sobbing into her pillow until she felt a little hand rubbing her back.

What's matter, Laney?
Parker had had one thumb in his mouth while his other hand had rubbed her back.
Why you sad?

Delaney grabbed a ragged breath as her tears threatened to escape her eyes.
Dammit.
This was exactly why she hadn't been able to continue with med school. She could have gotten over the physical aspects—she knew she could have. But this? This sitting with a little boy who
also
wasn't going to grow up? This trying not to compare him to Parker?

This
is why she couldn't do medicine. Ever.

There would always be something—tiny toes, a crooked smile, a left-cheek dimple, a giggle—that would send Parker right to the forefront of her brain, and send her memories spiraling through her head.

How did Joshua do this every day? How could he handle the fact that some kids never left the hospital? Or only left it to spend their last days at home? How did he let himself get attached, knowing his heart would get broken?

Because she knew it would. She hadn't known him long, but the man treated every single one of these kids like they were his own. It had to kill him every time things didn't go well. It had to kill him every time he had to have a hard conversation with a parent, especially a mom like Fiona.

Delaney squeezed Ian's hand gently. She knew that's what was happening in Joshua's office right now. Knew it so much that it made her own stomach hurt. She didn't know if she'd ever find out what he was telling Fiona—didn't know if she
wanted
to know. Parker and Ian were already going to be in her mixed-up dreams tonight, and knowing Ian's fate would only make that exponentially worse.

Just then, Millie and two other nurses came hurrying through the door, along with two orderlies, making Delaney jump in surprise.

“Okay, Delaney. Thank you. You can go now.”

Millie motioned toward the door, but Delaney didn't move. “I said I'd stay. I promised her I'd—stay.” She watched as the other nurses quickly positioned the bed and IV poles for transport, stepping between her and Ian, making her let go of his hand. “What are you doing? Where are you taking him?”

She hated the tinge of panic she heard in her own voice, hated the way the nurses paused to look at her, then at Millie, before they refocused on tucking the blankets around him and gently lowering the head of the bed.

She grabbed the metal bar on the side of his bed as a memory assaulted her—another little bed, another little boy, another transport team taking him away from her again.

“Let go, Delaney.” Millie's voice was firm, but curious.

“I—can't. Fiona will freak out if she comes back and he's not here. Can't you wait till she gets back? Where are you
taking
him?”

Her voice kept getting higher, and the nurses were eyeing her curiously.

Millie bent down, leveling her face with Delaney's. “We need to move him right now.
Now.
I will explain later, but I need you to let go. Now.”

Something in the tone of her voice shocked Delaney into loosening her grip on the bed, and before she knew it, they'd practically shot out of the room with Ian. Delaney was left sitting alone in Fiona's chair, wondering what in the world was going on.

She looked down and noticed that they'd forgotten the tiny giraffe that seemed always to be tucked into the little boy's hand, and she grabbed it and leaped toward the doorway. But the hallway was strangely empty. Wherever they'd taken him, they were already gone. She leaned unsteadily on the wall, looking left and right. Feeling tingly and chilled, she forced herself to walk back into the room and sit down in the chair again, letting her head drop toward her knees before she fainted.

What in the world was going on?

And why in the name of God had she let herself be part of it?

*   *   *

“She was poisoning her own child?” Delaney gripped her stomach with both arms as she rocked slowly in Joshua's guest chair an hour later.

He nodded, blowing out a breath, and his eyes looked more tired than she'd ever seen them. “We think so.”

Delaney swallowed, trying not to let the sick feeling overcome her. She could hardly find her voice, but when she did, it came out all hoarse and afraid. “Why?”

He sighed again. “It's called Munchausen by Proxy.”

Delaney nodded slowly. Now that he'd said it, she remembered the term from one of her first med school classes, before she'd dropped out. What she didn't understand—and hadn't then—was why anyone would intentionally hurt her own child. Didn't she know how lucky she was to
have
a perfectly healthy child?

“God.”

“I know.”

“Where is he now?” Her voice was so quiet she could barely hear it.

“He's safe—somewhere else in the hospital.”

“Is he—”

“Going to be okay?”

She nodded, looking at his eyes, trying not to let her tears fall. “I know. You can't tell me.”

“I think he is, Delaney. I think we got him in time.”

She felt relief flood through her body, then fury as she pictured Fiona sitting by his bed day after day, playing the poor-mom-with-mystery-sick-child thing to the hilt.

“Where's Fiona?”

“She's being evaluated.”

“By the police?”

He tipped his head, closing his eyes. “I don't know what I'm allowed to tell you. I'm sorry. Just know everything possible is being done, okay?”

Delaney sat back, arms still crossed defensively over her stomach.

“Is this”—she motioned vaguely toward the hallway—“is this the kind of stuff that—happens down here? A lot?”

He sat back in his own chair, matching her pose. “Before Ian, I had only read about this, so no. In this case, it's not the kind of thing that's common.”

“How—how do you
do
it? How do you handle so much—awfulness?”

He raised his eyes to hers, and held them for a long moment. Then he looked down, a defeated expression on his face.

“I don't always handle it. Not well, anyway. This job rips my heart out and serves it back on a platter at least once a month.”

“Then why? How? How do you make yourself keep doing it?”

“Because.” He sat forward, elbows on his desk. “Ian, for all I can tell, is going to be okay. He's going to get medical care that gets him better, and he's going to get social services care that gets him out of the toxic environment that put him here in the first place.”

“What about Kaya?”

He shrugged carefully. “You know I don't know. I can't answer that. But we can make that little girl's life as rich as possible while she's here, and we can do our damndest to get her better. This job is not for the weak, Delaney. It takes people out on a daily basis, and I don't blame any one of them one bit. But while I can do it—while I
can
handle it—I will do my best to help as many of these kids as I physically can.”

Delaney nodded, silence stretching between them. Then she spoke, almost in a whisper.

“What if—what if there wasn't a pediatric hospital here? What would have happened to Ian if he'd had to go to Boston? What happens to the next Ian, if the board decides to shutter this department?”

Joshua looked down at his desk, exhaustion lining his eyes. “That's a question I can't answer.”

 

Chapter 20

When Delaney pushed through the glass doors of the executive suite Wednesday morning, she felt like she had a hangover. She'd left Joshua's office last night and gone straight home, then out for a long-overdue run. Now her legs hurt, her head hurt, and her chest still felt like someone had tightened a belt around it the moment they'd wheeled Ian out of his room yesterday.

She wondered if Joshua would tell her today where the little boy was. If nothing else, she'd like to bring him his giraffe, but she also felt a strong, strange urge to see him and reassure herself that he was okay.

As she rounded the corner by Megan's cubicle, she backed up quickly, startled by the sight of a man leaning over her desk.

Then the smell hit her—a pungent mix of aftershave and hair gel that could only belong to one person.

“Can I help you with something, Kevin?” She walked by, then balanced her coffee cup against her chest as she unlocked her office. What was he doing here so early?

He spun around like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't be, and Delaney's radar pinged.

“I'm looking for those damn projection sheets. And don't sneak up on people.”

“The sheets? Again?”

“Yes, again. Megan promised she'd help me with them, but you've kept her running around like crazy all week, so she hasn't had time.”

“Well, she
is
actually
my
assistant.” Delaney set her coffee cup down on the file cabinet just inside her door.

“I'm pretty sure she's
everybody's
assistant up here.”

“Um, no. Megan is most decidedly mine.”

He shook his head, still shuffling through the messy piles on Megan's desk. Delaney made a mental note to track down another file cabinet. If they threw a lit match at her desk right now, it could heat the entire suite for a week.

“Kevin, you're not going to find it. Just wait till she gets here. It may look like a disaster, but I guarantee she knows where everything is.”

“But I need to get some numbers to Gregory by ten o'clock.”

“Ah, so that's why you're here at the crack of dawn.”

He rolled his eyes. “Some of us have a life outside the office, Delaney. We can't all be here twenty-four-seven.”

Delaney thought about how Joshua was always here before the birds, and often still busy with patients until well after dark.

“You might be surprised how many people
are
here practically that much, Kevin.”

“Well, they need to get a life.” He sighed loudly as he moved to yet another pile on Megan's desk. “How does she
work
like this?”

Delaney leaned against her door frame, trying to appear casual while praying that Megan hadn't left anything incriminating
on
her damn desk yesterday.

“Kevin? Have you ever spent any time on patient floors?”

He looked up, pausing his hands. “What do you mean?”

“I mean—have you ever headed downstairs and taken the time to see how Mercy actually treats patients?”

“That's ridiculous.” He shook his head. “We have enough to do up here. The people who work down there don't need us watching over their shoulders.”

She nodded thoughtfully, ashamed of how long it had taken
her
to punch that Down button and stop at the third floor.

“If I promise to send Megan to your office with the forms as soon as she walks in, will you please stop rifling through her desk?”

His hands finally stilled as he extracted a spreadsheet from one of the piles, his eyes widening.

“Found it.”

“So you're good?”

He smiled, and his shoulders dropped a good inch. “I'm fantastic.” He rolled the paper up and tapped her on the head like they actually could stand each other. “Thank you.”

An hour later, she heard Megan before she saw her, since even carpet couldn't quite muffle the sound of someone running in clogs.

“Omigod! Did you see it?” Megan came blasting into her office, waving a newspaper with Charlotte's face on the front page.

“Already?” Delaney jumped up. “She got that story in
already
?”

Megan handed her the newspaper, and that's when Delaney saw that she had an entire duffel bag of them slung over her shoulder.

“You look like a newsie, Meg. Are you planning to deliver them all over the hospital?”

“Nope. Just to a selection of people who might or might not have board-level influence. I see it as my public service for today. The timing couldn't be better, with the fundraiser tonight.”

Delaney smiled as she leaned her hip on the desk and read the story. Amanda had done a beautiful job of painting Charlotte's tale, interspersing quotes here and there, along with the Mercy-specific statistics and facts Delaney had given her.

Megan waited while she read, practically hopping from toe to toe. When Delaney put down the paper, Megan's eyebrows were sky-high.

“Well?”

Delaney shivered. “It's perfect. Beyond perfect. Exactly what we were hoping. She did an amazing job, on completely short notice.”

“I'm going to go give one to Kevin.” Megan winked as she picked up the duffel bag and headed back toward the door.

“Oh, that reminds me. He was looking for the projection spreadsheets this morning on your desk.”

“The what?” Megan looked mystified.

“Cost projections? The thing he can't seem to grasp even though we've both showed him a hundred times? He said you'd agreed to help him with it. He found whatever he was looking for, though.”