Unbreakable (37 page)

“No,” I said and shook my head. “No, I refused her advances. She tried to get me to comply, but I refused. I told her we could be colleagues but nothing else.”

If they believed me, they didn’t show it. I didn’t expect them to believe me. How many cheating husbands had they interviewed over the years? How many spouses had they interviewed who had a hand in their partner’s death?

When they were finished with the interview, McDonald handed me his card. “If you think of anything else that might help us track down who did this to your wife, please call me at that number.”

I took the card and tucked it into my jacket pocket and then went to see my baby.

I gowned and masked up and went to where they had Sophia. I saw her in the incubator in the NICU, and felt a tightness in my chest.

My daughter.

She was doing surprisingly well and had pinked up a bit, her skin not so red. At just over three pounds, she was at a good weight for survival, but there were still a lot of potential complications. They had removed the tube that fed her oxygen directly to her lungs for her condition had improved since delivery. They kept her on oxygen because her lungs weren’t as developed as they should be but she had on a CPAP instead of being intubated, the plastic tube covering her nose.

She also had an IV, a feeding tube and several leads on her tiny chest, so they could monitor her breathing and heart, but she looked good. Her diaper was huge on her tiny body, and she had a pink tag on her ankle with her identification.

“She’s doing well,” the NICU nurse said with a smile. “Surprisingly well given her gestational age, but each baby is individual. Do you want to touch her? You can.”

“Yes, of course,” I said and went to the incubator, my blue gown billowing out around me, my mask muffling the sound of my voice. I slipped my hand in the opening and stroked her tiny head, watching as she slept, tears blurring my vision. When an alarm went off on a neighboring incubator, Sophia startled and her tiny limbs jerked. I pulled my hand away, but then she settled down again and so I continued to touch her.

“Hi, Sophia,” I said to her, even though she could probably not really hear me over the hiss of oxygen. “Daddy’s here, and is watching over you.”

I had to bite back more tears, and smiled as I watched her, amazed that this was our baby. I hadn’t expected to see her so soon, but I was thankful that she was alive and doing well.

I stayed for as long as I could but then it was time for the nurses to do a check so I pulled my hand out and moved away, watching as they checked her over and spoke amongst themselves.

I left the NICU, removing my gown and face mask and gloves, so I could go back and see if Ethan and Elaine had arrived, but they were still not there. I imagined that it would take some time to get Ethan up and ready.

As to Kate, I was now allowed to go see her so I gowned back up and went inside her tiny ICU bay and watched her, taking her hand in mine and squeezing.

“Kate,” I said. “
Katie
, I’m here. I just saw our daughter, Sophia, and she’s doing fine. She’s breathing on her own and is stable.”

There was no response except for the bleep bleep of her monitors and the hiss of oxygen, but I didn’t care. I wanted to talk to her and let her know I was there. As a neurosurgeon, I knew that although she might not seem to hear me, she might be unable to respond. Even if she couldn’t hear me, she might sense that someone was there.

I hoped that was the case.

“You’re doing fine,” I said, clearing my throat, trying to sound hopeful. I didn’t know for certain that she was fine, although she was stable. I hadn’t had a chance to read her most recent vitals, nor had she gone for her second CT scan yet. They had done one when she first came in, but it was negative. The first twenty-four hours were critical. If she had any swelling in her brain due to a hemorrhage or damage to any part of her brain, she could remain unconscious for some time and potentially lose function if and when she did wake up.

“Come back to me,” I whispered, kissing her hand, her palm, her fingers. “I can’t do this without you.”

I heard a rustle at the door to the alcove and turned to see Ethan and Elaine standing in the hallway. I let go of Kate’s hand after kissing it once more and left her, knowing that Ethan would want to go in and see his beloved daughter. As much as I hated leaving her, I had to let him in.

“Ethan,” I said when I emerged from Kate’s room.

“Son,” he said and opened his arms, his face pale, his eyes dark under a furrowed brow. I had to admit I welcomed the show of affection and we embraced, Ethan clapping my back. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “Kate’s nurse told us what happened and how she is. What do you know?”

I shook my head and we ended the embrace. I was barely able to speak.

“Nothing more than you do,” I said and wiped my eyes. “She’s being kept sedated until her vitals stabilize and then they’ll wake her up. They’ll be taking her for a second head CT to check on any swelling or bleeding on her brain. We’ll know more then but her first CT looked good.”

“How is Sophia?” Elaine asked, giving me a hug as well. “The nurse said she was doing well.”

“She
is
,” I said and nodded, my emotions overwhelming me. “She’s beautiful and is breathing on her own already. She’s strong.” I smiled through my tears, thinking of Sophia in her incubator.

“Can we go in and see Katie?” Ethan asked, his mind focused on his daughter. “She was there for me, and I want to be there for her.”

The nurse had come over to us and was listening.

“Yes, go right ahead, but only one person at a time.”

“Ethan, you go in and talk to her,” Elaine said. “I’ll go and see Sophia in the NICU.”

“There’s a chair beside the bed and you can sit for a few minutes,” the nurse said and pointed to Kate’s room. Ethan made his way into the room and leaned over Kate with some difficulty, managing his semi-useless arm and cane as best he could so he could take Kate’s hand and kiss it.

My chest tightened at the sight of the two of them together as I remembered Kate with Ethan just over a year earlier when he had his stroke.

“I’ll go to the NICU,” Elaine said and laid a hand on my arm. “You stay here and help Ethan if he needs a hand. I know my way,” she said and leaned up to kiss my cheek. “Poor Drake,” she said softly. “You must have been frantic.”

“I tried to keep calm, but I felt sick when I got the call from Kate’s bodyguard that she’d been in a hit and run.”

“Her bodyguard?” Elaine said, her face shocked. “When did she get a bodyguard and why?”

“It’s a long story, Elaine,” I said. “We can talk about it later. Go and see Sophia. She looks really good for twenty-nine weeks.” I smiled and gave her another brief hug and she went down the hallway towards the bank of elevators.

My phone rang, and I checked the call display. It was Fred Parker. I answered.

“Drake,” he said, his voice alarmed. “I just heard that Kate was hit by a car by Central Park. Did they find who did it?”

“No,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “Not yet, but they have a partial plate and think it’s a rental. They’ll track it down.”

There was a silence on the other end for a moment. “What is it, Fred?”

“It’s just that, I called Lisa in this afternoon after you left and let her go, so I was worried that maybe she was angry…”

“You let her
go
?” I said, dread filling me that this was all my fault.

“I spoke with a few of the other department heads and they concurred that she wasn’t a good fit with the program, given her behavior. She was upset, of course, but she didn’t say or do anything to make me suspect she might do something like this…”

I rubbed my forehead. “We don’t know for sure that she did it,” I said, although it seemed like a real possibility. “But I think she may have.”

“I’m so sorry if this is my fault, Drake,” Fred said. “I never for a moment imagined that she could do something like this.”

“I understand,” I said, and sighed, a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. “If she did, I’m sure the police will find her. Right now, I’m more concerned with Kate and my daughter.”

“How are they?”

I recounted what had happened and their current status and we ended the conversation. Before he hung up, Fred apologized once more.

“Don’t worry,” I said, a bit lightheaded at the news it was probably Lisa. “It was my fault, if anyone’s to blame, for not dealing with this when I first was alarmed by her behavior.”

We hung up and I took out McDonald’s card and called the number, relaying to him the information that Lisa’s residency had been cancelled because of my complaint about her harassment. He thanked me for the information and then I went back to the room to check on Ethan. He was seated beside the bed, Kate’s hand in his, his head bowed. He appeared to be praying, his eyes closed, his lips moving silently. I didn’t want to interrupt, so I sat back in the waiting room.

We spent all evening in that room, and when the nurse shooed Ethan out of Kate’s room, Elaine took his place at Kate’s side.

“Why don’t you come with me to the NICU and we can see little Sophia,” I said and took his arm, helping him down the hallway to the elevators. He was entranced by Sophia, and was choked up with emotion as he watched the nurses handle her, changing her diaper and adjusting her oxygen feed.

So went the night with the three of us taking turns at Kate’s bedside or visiting Sophia. Little
Sophie
was still doing well, and in fact, seemed to have improved as the hours passed.

Ethan and Elaine went home at my insistence, and I lay on the couch in the waiting room and caught a few hours of sleep. I could have used one of the on-call rooms but I didn’t want to be too far from the ICU so I could keep tabs on her vitals. I woke up early, the noise of the shift change waking me as the staff made their way off or onto the ward.

After I washed my face and brushed my teeth with the extra toothbrush I kept in my office, I went to check on Kate. I read over her chart and saw that she was stable, her vitals all fine. They were going to do another CT to check and see if anything had changed and then would let her wake up.

I grabbed a cup of coffee and muffin from the cafeteria, feeling very strange to be a family member of a patient instead of a physician looking after patients. The role did not sit well with me. I liked to be in charge and it was hard for me to let go of control and allow my colleagues to do their jobs.

 Ethan and Elaine arrived early, and I could see the fatigue on their faces. The few hours of sleep they had were not enough, but like me, they could not sit at home and wait for news.

Ethan went back in and spent some time with Kate and once more, I saw him speaking with her. I would have liked to hear what he was saying, but knew that whatever it was, it would be loving and supportive and encouraging.

Then, the orderly arrived to take Kate for her second CT. I went into the room and helped Ethan up and out the door.

“You can go back in later, when she returns from the CT scan,” I said, knowing that he was probably reluctant to leave Kate. I was doing my best to hold it together, but was running on adrenaline and caffeine at that point.

While we waited for Kate to return from her CT, the three of us went to the NICU and took turns visiting with Sophia. She was doing well, considering her gestational age and the fact she had been born after a trauma to her mother. I felt bad that she hadn’t been held yet by anyone in her family, but the nurse said that we could pick her up and hold her soon. In fact, they encouraged it once the baby was stable and was not at risk of destabilizing their blood pressure or oxygen levels. Until then, we had to get by with touching Sophia and holding her tiny hand, speaking with her. I heard Elaine singing a soft lullaby to Sophia while she sat with her for a few moments, and it made my heart swell with gratitude that Sophia had such a loving family.

On my part, I talked to Sophia, telling her all about her mother and her family, about her grandfather Liam, and about her half-brother who had been named after him. I wondered whether Liam and Sophia would ever get to know each other and what kind of relationship they would have. Most of all, I told her about how happy I was that she had been born, and how I couldn’t wait to get her home with her mother and me so that we could start our new life together.

I caught the eye of one of the nurses who had been listening to me, and saw her smile as I wiped my cheeks. Usually fairly reserved in public, I didn’t care at that moment who heard me or saw my emotions.

I checked my watch and saw that Kate should be back from her CT and so I joined Ethan and Elaine in the waiting room outside Kate’s ICU room and waited for her to return. The three of us sat in silence, waiting for Kate, hoping that soon, she would wake up and we could feel assured that she would be the same Kate we knew and loved.

Finally, about fifteen minutes later, the orderlies brought Kate back and slid her into the bay. She was still unconscious, but looked as well as could be anticipated. I went to her side first and checked her stitches, felt her pulse and respirations, and did my neurological check to see if she was still there inside, flashing my penlight into her pupils to check her response. Everything looked normal for a post-op trauma patient. I knew they’d be letting her wake up soon, as long as the CT showed no new bleeds in her brain or significant swelling. I kissed her, and held her hand, telling her how well she was doing, and how beautiful little Sophia was.

“I heard Elaine singing a lullaby in the NICU,” I said to her, my throat choking up with emotion as I remembered. “She’s going to be such a great grandma. And Ethan has been like a rock, talking to her, telling her all about her mother, when you were a child.”

Kate’s physician, Dr. Rick Folkerson, a trauma surgeon who did her surgery, came to see us soon after, bearing good news. Kate had no bleeds to her brain and besides a significant concussion from hitting the pavement, she would be fine. They would start to reduce her meds and she would wake up on her own over the course of the day.