Abruption (34 page)

“H
ey, dude. How’s Violet feeling?” I asked Bryce as he stepped up behind me to look at our OR schedule. Besides a few texts back and forth, we hadn’t really connected since the morning Finn was in the ER with bloody vomit. His visits had been so frequent over the past few months I needed to add descriptors to keep them straight. Sadly, Bryce and Violet made their own visit later that same day. Violet miscarried.

“Better, physically. Mentally, she’s still struggling.”

“How you holding up?”

“It sounds twisted, but in a way I’m relieved. I’m glad we didn’t have to make the decision. Not sure how we would have gotten past that. Fortunately, her OB said we could try again when we feel ready. Somehow losing the baby naturally has made it more bearable, I guess.”

“Doesn’t sound twisted. It sounds like an impossible decision was taken from your hands, and there’s nothing wrong with feeling grateful for that. Doesn’t make it hurt any less. You don’t need me to tell you it’s going to take time.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged and ran his palm across his face. I wasn’t sure he really believed what he was trying to convince himself of. Then again, no one should have to reason through losing a child. Ever.

I had come close, way too close and way too many times during Finn’s first few months. That was a hellfire I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy. I couldn’t begin to imagine the scorching blaze Bryce and Violet were enduring, or worse, the inferno Jules survived.

She was a survivor.

Pride battled back the anger I currently felt for dealing Jules her tortured hand and my shoulders swelled. Time may have buried her scars skin deep but they’d always be raw. Instead of spending the rest of her life under a shield of steel armor, my woman was home right now making my kids laugh over pancakes, giving them a sense of security that only comes with knowing you mean everything to someone.

My guess, Vi was a survivor too.

“Hey, did Jules ever get a chance to catch up with Vi yesterday?” I asked out of curiosity and because I knew Jules had reached out. She barely knew Bryce and she’d never met Violet, but she was torn up when I told her about their ordeal. I was on overload the night it all went down, and I was embarrassed to admit that I never considered how my woman might react or what memories might get stirred up. But in true Jules fashion, she was a rock.

She looked back on the days and weeks after Gemma passed and recalled how she barely remembered most of the calls or visits she received. Everything blurred together, except the faces of the women who sought her out and struggled to share their own tragic stories of loss. Their faces were crystal clear and fixed into a collage of light that flickered during her darkest hours. She was resolute when she said she’d forever pay it forward. Then she asked for Violet’s number. I should have been blown away by her selflessness, but I wasn’t.

Exception.

Survivor.

“Shit, they did. Sorry, man, I feel like I’ve been so caught up in our craziness, I forgot to thank you for that. Vi was so appreciative. Helped put things in perspective. What we’re going through is one thing, but God, losing a four-month-old. Fuck, Guy, that’s devastating.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Vi and I were talking about her last night and how she chose a career in pediatrics after—takes a special woman to face a loss like that head on. You found yourself a diamond in the rough, dude.”
My jewel.
“I’m happy for you. You deserve this. You deserve her. And so do the kids.”

“Thanks, really appreciate it.” And I did. More than I was able to express.

We both focused back on the day’s daunting schedule, trying to ignore the heaviness in the air. When that failed, I said, “But just let me know if you’re going to go all Dr. Phil on me again?”

I watched a small portion of his stress melt away as he laughed. He smacked my back in return. “Why not? Talk show host sounds a hell of a lot better than the shitshow we have later.”

I wasn’t so sure about that, but he managed to return the favor and it was my turn to laugh. He wasn’t wrong about the day ahead of us. Our case list had suck-potential written all over it.

The bookends weren’t bad; hernia repairs were straightforward. A second-year resident would have a hard time fucking those cases up. But the colon resection wedged in between was a different story.

I tapped the paper, my finger over the second case, and grimaced. “You’re not kidding. She’s had a shit-ton of surgeries. Her abdominal wall is going to be like cement. We’re going to be chipping away adhesions forever.”

I loved operating and thrived on a challenge as much as the next surgeon, but today I could have used a cakewalk. No such luck and no sense dwelling on it. “Since we’re in for the long haul, do me a favor and step up your game, shoot for Jerry Springer or something.”

“You’re a fucking dipshit, you know that?”

This time we both laughed. All right, with our heads back in the game, we needed to get this done. Our families were waiting.

“Needle down.” I carefully laid the needle driver onto the sterile field and glanced over at the wall, waiting for my scrub nurse to reload it.

“You getting bored, dude?” Bryce broke my trance. “Gonna get a complex if you keep checking the time. I think I’ve been quite entertaining the past few hours.”

I probably would have joined the room’s amusement, but I couldn’t get past the gnawing feeling in my gut. “Jules was bringing Finn in for blood work around ten. I told her to call directly to the room when they got done.”

It was twelve-thirty. Even if Finn threw the shit fit of all shit fits, it didn’t take two and a half hours.

Bryce had no problem reading between the lines. “Wait, I thought he was doing better on the new meds. No?”

“He is.”
Thank fuck
. “But his liver enzymes were bumped last go around—this was to make sure they’re trending back down.”

Bryce turned his head to eye the clock hanging up high on the wall behind him. When he righted back around he said, “She probably got caught up in the PICU and hasn’t had a chance to call yet. My guess, he’s home with Maya pigging out on some of that all natural flaxseed crap she tries to pass off as cookies. My little dude still brings up Finn’s babysitter’s cardboard cookies.”

As much as I appreciated his attempted distraction, his joke fell flat. Nothing but the “all clear” call would settle the growing pit in my stomach. Luckily, we were almost finished and prepping to close. God came through with one favor—this colon resection went a hundred times smoother than anticipated. Call me selfish: I was looking for another.

Not wanting to delve any deeper into my personal life with an audience, I palmed the loaded instrument and meticulously passed the needle through tissue. Like clockwork, Bryce tied the knot, held the excess suture up, and the statuesque medical student standing to his left cut.

And repeat.

We finished the rest of the case in silence.

Bryce threw his face mask in the garbage and joined me at the scrub sink to wash off the four-hour case from his hands. “Two down, one to go.” He really meant the worst was behind us. I hoped he was right in more ways than one. “You get in touch with Jules?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

I sighed with partial relief before I answered, “They’re downstairs now. She put Finn down for a nap, knew I was in the OR all day, didn’t want to interrupt me to let me know she pushed back the time.” Realizing I failed to mention it earlier, I filled in the gap. “Jules cut back her hours, still in the PICU part-time but with less administrative duties. She is spending more time at home with the kids.”

“Wow, that’s awesome, man. I bet the kids are psyched.”

Psyched was an understatement if there ever was one.

My knee tapped the control, the water turned off, and I tagged a paper towel. “You kidding me? I’m lucky if they acknowledge me when I walk in the door.” No exaggeration, my kids were the happiest they’d ever been since Jules came into our lives.

Bryce dried his hands and leaned his back against the sink. “So Maya’s not around as much? Bet she’s not thrilled.”

“It’s not like we’re kicking her to the curb or babysitting was her life plan. This gives her the opportunity to finish up nursing school and start her own career. Plus she is family—she’ll always be a part of the kids’ lives. And she knows that the salary she receives is hers until she graduates, no matter how many hours she works. That won’t change.”

“Let me get this right, you’re going to bankroll her until she finishes nursing school? I’d have a crush on you too.”

I dismissed his ludicrous joke and focused on the one million and one ways this was different from the baby nurse situation, even though the irony of paying for
another
full-time babysitter that I didn’t need was not lost on me.

“After everything she’s done for my family, I owe her a hell of a lot more than a year’s salary. Her family is loaded, yet she carried the responsibility of taking care of my kids and school to avoid any part of the strings that came along with accepting anything from those people. I’ve got to respect that. No way I’d let her go groveling back. Her parents make Britt’s look well adjusted. I doubt they’ve ever said a kind word to the poor girl.” Aside from a few ski trips where she was forced to mingle, being that it was their ski house, I couldn’t remember the last time she mentioned seeing her folks.

Bryce contemplated the Maya saga for a second. “You’re a class act, you know that, dude?”

I’d be lying if I said his words didn’t mean something to me, especially coming from a guy I respected.

“What did I tell you about that Dr. Phil shit?”

Bryce shook his head, amused. “Go check on your kid, guarantee you’ll feel better. I’ve got this. I’ll let you know when the next case is ready to go.”

Talk about a class act.

I took him up on his offer, hit the stairwell, and jogged two steps at a time down to the ER. Across the bay I saw Finn’s grin. Good sign. As I got closer, the little white stick dangling from his mouth came into view. Even better sign.

“By the looks of this bulge …” I poked his cheek and he giggled. “It went well?” I asked, pecking Finn’s head and kissing Jules’ lips.

“Not one little peep. We decided an afternoon lollipop was in order,” Jules explained. Who was going to argue that?

“That’s my boy. But where’s mine?” I asked, teasing.

My mother used that line
where’s mine
all the time when I was a kid. I thought it was dumb, even then. When I was five I called her out on it, and after she tossed her head back with laughter, she conceded it was, in fact, foolish. (Dumb was not part of Reina’s vocabulary.) But then she told me it warmed her soul every time I offered up whatever I had, and that generosity, that pure and sweet, was rare and precious. Damn if my mother wasn’t spot on.

“Thank you, buddy,” I said, taking a dramatic lick of his disgusting mystery pop, relishing in his giggle.
Nothing better
.

Jules smiled at us and pulled Finn into her arms, ruffling his blond locks. “You just missed Maya. She remembered the blood tests and came to make sure her favorite guy was all good.” Finn cheesed so wide his pop almost slipped from his mouth, but he held tight, resting his head snug against Jules’ shoulder. Rubbing his back, she subconsciously started to sway, like only a mother could. Then she captured my eyes and lowered her voice. “When Jill said she would run them stat, I figured it made no sense for all of us to hang around, so I asked Maya if she didn’t mind picking Maxie up from school. She seemed a little off-put, said she had no intention of leaving until she knew Finn was okay.” She furrowed her brows with regret. “Now I feel bad. I totally could have managed. I figured a little girl time would be fun for Maxie. Now I’m second-guessing my decision. Maya definitely wasn’t feeling it. Maybe I could still make it work so I can go.”