Perfect Match (34 page)

Ned eased the cab up the long drive. “I still don’t
understand you making a house call to a doctor. I thought doctors were the ones
who made house calls.”

Roscoe chuckled, “Well, I’ve learned the world operates
upside down these days. I’ll need you to wait for me.” Before getting out he
pulled a twenty-dollar bill from his billfold. “Hang on to this.”

Ned looked at him. “You’re not going to tear it in half?”

“Not this time. I trust you.” Roscoe was out and dashing for
the front door of 4100 Flannery Lane.

He pushed the doorbell, and heard the complicated chimes
echoing in the cavernous two-story brick home.

Inside, fifty-year old Dr. Sam Hertford moaned, “Who in the
hell is ringing the doorbell in this raging storm?”

His forty-five year old wife of two years sighed, “There’s
always some kind of interruption. We never have time for ourselves.” She stared
blankly at the meal she had prepared. The candle light danced through the
glasses of freshly poured wine.

Dr. Hertford cautiously walked toward the front door,
snapping on a cluster of outside security lights, before peering through the
privacy curtains at the drenched six-foot tall dark figure looking toward the
door. Still cautious, he opened the thick front door a few inches, with his
foot bracing the backside. Through the glass door he said, “What do you want?
Who are you?”

Another gust of rain swooshed against the glass door. “I’m
Roscoe Fallington. I need your help.” He held up his hospital ID bracelet
against the glass.

“What’s wrong with you? What’s your problem?” Hertford was
growing more suspicious by the minute.

“Nothing’s wrong with me, but my friend needs help.”

Hertford looked over Roscoe’s shoulder at the idling cab.

“That’s my ride. You can call the number on the side of the
car and verify that I’m a legitimate passenger.”

Hertford’s wife was now standing by his side, trying to
close her outer negligee over her skimpy nightwear underneath.

“I’m sorry. This is not making sense to me. I don’t see a
friend, and I don’t know you. I see a shabby taxi waiting to make…make a fast
getaway or something. Sorry, I can’t help you. Goodnight.” Hertford started
closing the door.

Roscoe spoke up, his face showing desperation. “At least
take a look at my paper work. It’ll explain everything.” He edged a corner of
the folded sheets between the glass door and the molding. “I’ll step away from
the door, with my back to you. I’m not here to harm you or your family.” He
walked to the edge of the small porch and got blasted with a gusting wall of
water. He heard the glass door unlock, and then lock again. He thought, welcome
to modern healthcare. He turned back closer to the door.

Hertford was scanning the donor-recipient data that Trevor
had prepared. He released a whistle of air.

His wife was holding his arm but glancing nervously at
Roscoe, waiting. “What is it, Honey? What are those papers?”

“Unbelievable, that’s what.” He unlocked the glass door,
pushing it open. “Step inside out of the rain. Uh…just stand on the mat there
for a minute.”

“Thanks.” Rain dripped from him, forming a widening dark
spot around his shoes.

The wife spoke. “Would you like a towel or something?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Hertford looked up from the papers. “Where did this data
come from?” His voice had an edge.

Roscoe nodded at the report. “It should be self-explanatory.
The testing was done at my request. Full names, everything, and the person
generating the report, Trevor Howard, are fully disclosed. No mystery there.”

“Mr. Fallington, I don’t think you understand the major
problem here. All of this…whatever you’re trying to pull off here has violated
every principle of Cobalt Medical Center. Who authorized this?”

“No one. I decided it needed to be done to see if I could
donate one of my kidneys to a special friend. I’m a perfect match and I’d like
you to assemble the transplant teams and make it happen before the sun dawns on
a new day. But I want to keep everything anonymous regarding me as the donor.”
He paused a moment. “In my research, I learned you are the best surgeon for the
task at hand.”

The wife squeezed her husband’s arm and gave him a smile,
and then nodded at Roscoe.

Hertford thought a moment, and then handed the papers back
to Roscoe. “Yeah, I’ll bet you do want to remain anonymous in the middle of
this little firestorm. I’m sorry Mr. Fallington. I can’t get involved in this
kind of wild idea of yours. We have a protocol at Cobalt that works and
delivers the best healthcare possible. You’ve done nothing to follow our
time-tested procedures. I’m sure there’ll be some kind of investigation over
this and heads will roll, but mine will not be one of them.”

He paused a moment.

The wife looked back and forth at her husband and Roscoe.

“Anyway, I’ve been in surgery most of the day, and I was
about to enjoy a rare evening with my wife, Elise, until you showed up and
ruined it. I’m not even on call, so I wouldn’t be involved even if this was a
legitimate surgical case.”

Elise asked, “Are you Edna Fallington’s grandson?”

“Yes, one of them. I’m the bad one, the hell-raiser. Rodney
is the good son.”

“My mother plays poker with Edna.” She smiled, looked at her
husband.

“Okay, enough small talk. Mr. Fallington, if you feel like
pursuing this…this idea of yours, you need to contact our transplant department
first thing in the morning and get on board with the correct procedures.” He
moved to swing the door wider. “I believe your taxi is still waiting for you.”
He cleared his throat.

Roscoe took a step toward the door and then turned back to
the doctor and his wife. “When Selena dies in a few days, I’ll make sure you
get an invitation to her funeral. Of course I’ll be there with both healthy
kidneys. I’ll also be inviting the hospital administrator, along with Cobalt’s
board of directors…oh, and the full media will be there. NPR will probably have
a field day with the report you’ve just rejected. They’ll probably want to give
you some air time to hear all about your tidy and proper procedures. Listeners
and viewers love stuff like that. I’ve got a long list of dignitaries that’ll
get invited. Ought to be a real block party. Well, you folks enjoy your
evening. Sorry to have bothered you.”

Hertford snarled, face hardened, “I do not bend to blackmail
or cheap-shot emotions. I’m a man of principle, a hardened piece of surgical
steel.”

“Glad to hear that. There’s nothing as warm and cozy, and
dense as a cold piece of steel.” He glanced at Elise. “Have a warm evening.”

Roscoe stepped out into the rain, walking slowly back to the
cab.

Elise watched him walk away. She glanced back at her
husband, back at Roscoe. She pushed by her husband, darting down the rain-slicked
walk.

Her husband yelled after her, “Elise, have you lost your
mind?”

She caught Roscoe’s arm and wheeled him around. She grabbed
the front of his shirt, pulling at him, saying over the pouring rain, “You
can’t leave. You can’t walk away. He’ll do what you need. I know him. He’ll do
it. Come back.” She tugged him toward the house.

“Let me send the cab away.”

He opened the door. “I’m going to be staying with them. I’ll
catch up with you in a couple of days.”

Ned had silently watched the drama unfold at the door and on
the sidewalk and had come to his own conclusions. Doctor screaming his head
off, woman half dressed, and crazy-assed passenger, Rocky, right in the middle.
“Let me get this straight. You leave the comfort of the hospital so you can
shack up with the doctor and his wife. Sounds like an interesting three-some to
me. Must be another version of ‘free love.’ You are one crazy passenger,
Rocky.”

“It’s not what you think, Ned. Trust me on this one. I’ll
give you the details in a couple weeks at Starbucks.”

“That’s the first sensible thing I’ve heard.” Ned shook his
head.

Roscoe chuckled. “I look forward to us working together
soon.” He closed the door, as Ned was opening his mouth.

“Well I’ve done some bat-shit crazy things, but working for
Rocky ain’t going to be one of them.”

The cab coasted down the drive buffeted by the wild wind.

Elise and Roscoe stepped inside the over-size foyer,
dripping wet. Sam stared in disbelief. “What in the hell do you think you’re
doing Elise?”

Her night clothes clung to her shapely body. Her breasts
were firm and outlined by the wet fabric. A dark patch was visible at the V of
her thighs. She reached for her husband’s arm. “Sam, listen to me for a moment.
I don’t usually say much, but I’m aware that I put a lot of pressure on you
about the limited time we have. I always want more time with you, but for the
first time, tonight, I saw a little of what faces you each day. I guess I
didn’t realize how close the death and life issues are in the work you do.”

She paused a moment to take another breath.

“I don’t know everything about the rules of a major
healthcare facility. I’m sure the protocol is there for good reasons, but
something tells me there is a good reason to do this transplant and save this
young woman’s life. What good are rules if they stand in the way of what’s
possible?” She looked nervously at Roscoe and back at her husband.

“What about tonight? It’s the first night we’ve had in
weeks.” He looked longingly at her pleading eyes.

“I know. I’ve been looking forward to tonight, but you know something?
We have time. We’ll find the time, but Selena will have no time. I don’t even
know who she is, but if Roscoe is willing to donate a healthy kidney, I’ll give
up my time with you tonight for Selena.”

She paused.

“I’ll even throw in a bonus for you, Sam. Do what you do
best with this transplant, and I’ll give you wildfire crazy nights that you’ll
never forget.” She stood looking up at her husband, rain still dripping off her
face, and tears welling up in her eyes.

Roscoe looked at the doctor, raising his eyebrows. “I don’t
know about you doc, but I wouldn’t even need a medical degree to figure out
that proposition from your beautiful wife.”

The doctor’s facial expression softened as he hugged his
wife. “Your understanding is like gold. I love you, Elise.”

“I know you do, Sam, and I love you more.”

Roscoe realized he was witnessing a kind of intimacy that
he’d observed very little of through the years. The tenderness reached deep
inside him. Maybe I can learn from this.

The doctor straightened up, with a determined sigh. “Let me
see your paperwork again. I’ll need to get some calls going.” He pulled his
phone from his pocket, placing his earpiece in one ear.

Elise said, “Did you have any wine? I’ll start a strong pot
of coffee for you.”

The doctor shook his head. “Didn’t get to taste it, but the
coffee sounds good. Roscoe, you can’t have any. I’ll have plenty of potions for
you when we get to the hospital.”

Elise started coffee, and then dashed off to their bedroom,
stripping wet clothing as she went. She returned shortly in jeans and
sweatshirt, with heavy towels for Roscoe, while her husband was on the phone.
The storm was playing havoc with the phone signals.

“Amy, this is Sam Hertford. I need you to pull a couple of
records, load them into my file at my station in the surgeon’s room. Go ahead
and have the radiologist do an emergency re-check, with a summary for me. This
is an ASAP. Kidney transplant, two surgical teams. We’re really squeezing the
clock on this one, so I anticipate beginning surgery in an hour or so.

“Check our surgical suite schedule for available operating
rooms, side by side. Oh, and be sure all consent forms are in order. I’ll be
back on the phone with you as soon as I leave my house. He gave her the patient
numbers of Selena and Roscoe.” He clicked off, looking at Roscoe dripping wet.
“You won’t have time to change. I’ve got a thick quilt-cover you can sit on in
the car.”

Elise handed him his favorite insulated mug full of coffee.
She hugged him and Roscoe. “Drive carefully. I’ll keep all of you in my
thoughts and prayers.”

As the white Lincoln Navigator idled out of the three car
garage, and eased down the drive to the street Hertford was back on the phone.
The lightning sent shards of static through the phone signals.

“This is going to be a mess. I’m going to have to try the
car phone, maybe reception will be better.” After placing a call he said to
Roscoe, “I’m going to have to turn up the volume so I can hear over the rain
and thunder. You’re going to probably hear some conversation that you shouldn’t
but I’m going to trust you to blot it out forever, understand?”

Roscoe cut a smile, “Anonymity is one thing I understand.
Finally we agree on something.”

“Okay, you made your point.”

Roscoe chuckled.

The call was answered through a wall of static. “Surgical,
Amy speaking.”

“Sam here. Let me give you an update. I’m going to do the
transplant on Selena Sanchez. Who’s the removal surgeon? Who was available?”

“Lucky for everyone. Doctor Jason Frenchwater finished up
over an hour ago. He said he’d pull his team together, since they’re still at
the hospital waiting out the storm.”

“Perfect. He’s great to work with, sometimes.” He chuckled.

There was a blast of static.

“What about my surgical team? Are they able to get to the
hospital in this raging weather?”

“Would you expect anything less from your team?”

Hertford nodded his head. “They’re the greatest on earth!”

Another blast of static.

Amy said, “But I don’t understand. We don’t have anything in
the system regarding the donor. We haven’t received anything from the National
Donor Center. And if they had a kidney, nothing is landing at the airport. All
flights have been canceled.”