Just Destiny (5 page)

Finally the doctor’s experienced hands traveled Gabe’s arms and legs, testing his muscle tone, before frowning intently over his chart again. He carefully read each page, flipping back to an earlier page to reconfirm something. Sighing, Ken pulled a chair over next to Jenny’s. He sat down heavily and turned sad eyes to her.

She scowled and looked away.
No. No. No. Don’t look at me like that. He’s not gone. He’s not!

“I’m sorry, Jenny.”

“No.” She frowned fiercely and slowly shook her head. “Don’t you say it. Fix him. Just make him better.”
Bring him back to me
.

“I can’t. You know I would if I could but¬—”

“Yes. Yes, you can. Fix him.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t fix Gabe. Nobody can.”

She glared at him. “I don’t believe you.”

“Jenny, Gabe is completely unaware of any internal or external stimuli. He has no pupillary response. No gag or cough response. No spontaneous reflexes. The exam and test results indicate that all functions of his brain have been irrevocably lost.”

All functions irrevocably lost. She slumped in her seat and clutched her aching stomach. “Nooo,” she drew out.

“If there was anything at all—I’d do it.” He pursed his lips. “But there’s no point.”

“So, he’s…” Jenny cleared her throat. Trying again, she whispered. “He’s really gone?”

“I’m afraid so.” Ken’s head bobbed in a slight nod. “The damage to his brain was just too massive.”

And it’s my fault. If I hadn’t run…If I’d told him about the baby instead of manufacturing some fake scenario…If the truck hadn’t come along
…she looked at Gabe, then dropped her head.
I did this. It’s my fault
.

“I’m very sorry. They’ve done two EEGs, brainstem evoked potentials, and four-vessel cerebral angiography. It’s been twelve hours since he came in and there’s been no improvement at all—despite all the steroids and medication they’ve pumped into him. The ventilator is breathing for him.”

She lifted her gaze. “Twelve hours? Twelve hours isn’t long. It’s—it’s not even twenty-four hours—not even a day. You’re ready to write him off after just twelve hours?”

“I know it seems a short time to you, but given all the tests and medicine and the total lack of response, I’m afraid it’s not good.” Ken waited as if giving her time to assimilate the bad news before speaking gently. “They’ll maintain his respiration and heart with the machine but only long enough for you to adjust and make plans.”

“Plans?”

“We could keep his body alive for months like that, until an infection killed him, but we won’t. Letting Gabe continue like this only perpetuates unrealistic expectations. I’m sorry.” Ken gently squeezed her forearm. “You need to gather the family to say your good-byes and let him go with dignity.”

“
Me
?”
She
had to gather the family and tell them Gabe was gone?
She
had to let him die? Was he crazy?

“Yeah.” He nodded. “It’s your decision when. Technically he’s already gone, but nobody’s going to turn off the respirator before you’re ready. In all fairness to you both, it needs to be soon.”

Jenny’s gaze darted to Gabe’s chest. She watched it rise and fall in a perfect steady rhythm. He wanted her to stop that? He’d disguised it as “letting him go with dignity,” but as far as Jenny was concerned, as long as Gabe breathed, assisted or not, he was alive. And this supposed friend, supposed expert doctor, wanted
her
to kill Gabe.

“I can’t do that,” Jenny said. “What if I was wrong? What if he came out of it?” She wanted to turn from the pity in his eyes, but made herself focus on Ken’s words.

“I don’t want to sound cruel, but you need to know the reality of the situation.
If
a miracle like that happened,” Ken’s forehead wrinkled over wide eyes, clearly doubting the possibility, “I
guarantee
you he’d be a vegetable.” He paused, letting the statement sink in. “Gabe was a doctor—the best. He’d have seen poor souls like that and I don’t know a man who would want to exist that way.”

Jenny wanted to shout, “Who cares?
I
want him alive.
I need him
.” Images of Gabe flashed through her mind. Sweaty Gabe gliding up the driveway after a long ride with Steve. Grinning in satisfaction, he’d salute Steve as they headed for their showers. Gabe’s face lifted to the sun, at the helm of their boat. Gabe serving, then rushing the net to best his son at tennis. Jenny saw him confidently striding down the hospital hallway, hurrying to surgery or to check on a patient. Tears filled her eyes with the weight of the truth. Gabe was a dynamic man. If he could breathe without the machine and was even remotely aware of his helpless condition, it’d kill him.

“He’d hate it.” She blinked back tears. “It’d break my heart too, but I can’t. I can’t do it.”

“You don’t have to make a decision right away, but you do need to gather the family.” Ken looked hesitant, like he had something to offer but was unsure.

“What?”

He expelled a breath. “Have you thought about organ donation?”

Jenny stared at Ken and blinked.

“Most of his organs are in good shape. Gabe could live on through other people.”

“Are you kidding me?” She vaulted to her feet and rounded on him. “Cut Gabe up and give bits and pieces of him to other people? Are you nuts?”

“I know it sounds callous, but he could save a lot of lives.”

“No!” Jenny glared at him.

“I understand. But as Gabe’s friend, I had to bring it up. As a doctor I want to give you as much information as possible. You need to fully understand the gravity of the situation—”

“He’s dead. I get it.” Jenny wrapped her arms tightly around her quivering stomach.

“Jenny, you need to consider what Gabe would want.” He picked up Gabe’s wallet from the foot the bed and held it out to her. “I suspect he wanted to be an organ donor.”

Jenny stared in horror at the billfold, then looked at Ken. The sympathy in his eyes gave her courage. She reached out and took it. Her hand sank as if the wallet weighed twenty pounds. With a deep breath and trembling fingers, Jenny flipped the billfold open.

She ignored the driver’s license tucked inside the slot under the credit cards and slowly turned the plastic rectangles protecting his family pictures. The first was a photo of her, then one of her and Gabe, then Alex and Ted’s high school graduation pictures. The regular assortment of insurance cards stacked the back. Jenny pulled out Gabe’s Blue Cross Blue Shield card and blindly handed it to Ken, mumbling, “They’ll need this.”

Though sorely tempted to slam the wallet shut, Jenny worked the driver’s license back and forth until she’d freed it from its plastic slot. God, her husband was a handsome man. She loved the way his light brown hair lay close-cropped to his head in tidy layers, and the deep crinkle lines at the corner of his pewter gray eyes made him look totally adorable. Though not pretty-boy handsome, he had that Harrison Ford every-day rugged look.

A smile creased Jenny’s face when she looked at his documented weight, one hundred seventy pounds. Hmmm. He’d put on a few pounds since then. Moving her thumb, Jenny looked for the little red heart signifying an organ donor. She flipped the card over. Eyes popping wide, she looked at Ken. “It’s not there.”

Ken frowned. “Really?”

Jenny felt lightheaded, almost giddy. Knowing Gabe, she’d fully expected to find the heart, but it wasn’t there. Though Jenny believed in organ donation, even made sure she was registered as an organ donor when she’d changed the name on her driver’s license, it wasn’t appropriate now. Gabe’s circumstances were different.

Her hand trembled as Jenny handed him the card. She stifled a nervous smile. Nothing would change. They had a respite.

“This must be a mistake.” He frowned, then handed the card back to her. “Even so, you can still donate for him. It’s your decision.”

Jenny’s relief evaporated and tears stung her eyes.

“You know it’s what he would have wanted. Just think about it.” Ken wrapped an arm around her shoulder, holding Jenny close as she sobbed until her chest hurt. She actually felt her heart tearing, painfully ripping apart, exposing jagged raw edges. Ken allowed her to ease away and handed her the tissue box.

 “Gabe was a talented doctor—a really great person. If there was any hope, any chance at all, I promise you, I would do whatever it took to help him. But there just isn’t. I’m sorry.” His voice broke. “I’m going to miss him like hell.” He paused for a moment. “Is there someone you can call? Your mom?”

She shook her head.

“Have you notified his children? His parents?”

“His parents are…” she stumbled over the word
dead
, as if she said the word then Gabe would be dead too. “Gone. And the kids are—” My God, Alex and Ted. Jenny hadn’t given them a thought. How could she tell them their father was dead? “I’ll call their mother.”

“I’ll write up my consult and then talk again with Dr. Collins. If there’s anything else,” he handed her a business card, “my home phone’s on the back. Please call if there’s anything I can do.”

Jenny nodded and turned away, unable to look at him. He was healthy. He got to go home to his family. Her husband would not.

Numb, she moved closer to Gabe’s bed. A quick scan showed everything to be the same. She slid a hand up his warm arm. Gabe couldn’t be dead—dead people were blue and cold. Jenny’s pain in her pelvis intensified and then eased. Her eyes opened in horror, recognizing the familiar spasms. No. No. It couldn’t be cramps. She pushed back in the chair and rested her feet on the bed. She just needed to rest. She’d be fine. They’d be fine.

After another twenty minutes of painful cramping, Jenny hurried out of the room to the nurses’ desk. “Can you help me? My husband is Gabe Harrison.” She pointed to his room. “I’m pregnant and I’m cramping and bleeding. Is there a doctor I can see?”

The nurse sent her down to the ER where a doctor examined her, ran an hCG test, then came back to tell her she’d lost the baby.

Her beloved baby was gone. Lying alone on a gurney in the ER, Jenny rolled onto her side and cried and cried. She cried for the little one she’d lost and cried for herself. She begged God to wake her from this nightmare. Then she bargained with God, the baby’s life for Gabe’s. Surely he wasn’t cruel enough to take them both?

Jenny dried her eyes, cleaned up, dressed, and rushed back upstairs, convinced Gabe would be better. She rushed into Gabe’s room, sure she’d find him awake—or at least curled on his side as he preferred to sleep.

Gabe lay on his back, bruised eyes closed, the ventilator tube still protruding from his mouth. His chest rose and fell to the rhythm of the machine. No improvement—for either of them. Jenny kept backsliding, losing more and more.

She dropped in the chair next to his bed. Not fair. This was
not fair
—none of it. First God stole her husband and now her baby? What was going on? Jenny stared at Gabe, longing to feel his strong arms wrap around her, reassuring her everything would be okay. But nothing would ever be okay again.

Gabe couldn’t hold her. And now she wouldn’t even have his baby to hold onto. And they wanted her to stop the machine. They wanted her to give away his organs. It was her decision. Jenny kissed Gabe’s knuckles, then rested her cheek on their clasped hands.

“Gabe, help me. What should I do?” She gulped and tried to force her trembling lips into a smile. “You said we’d be together forever. You said—” The breath flew from her lungs. “You said—”

Jenny broke down and wailed, deep, gut-wrenching sobs.

* * *

The next morning, people came and went from Gabe’s room, but none offered Jenny a miracle. Jenny called Alex and Ted’s mother, Judith, about the accident and Gabe’s condition. To her relief, Judith offered to tell the children and Gabe’s uncle, George. Jenny hadn’t the energy or emotional fortitude to deal with his uncle.

Gabe had gone to live with his uncle George and aunt Adele when he was only eight years old. His parents had worked for the Peace Corps and both died of amoebic dysentery in a little village in Columbia. George had had no children of his own; perhaps that’s why he was so obsessively close to Gabe.

Though George was always polite to Jenny, she got the feeling he didn’t really like her. He displayed no outright hostility, but Jenny sensed an underlying chill and tolerance from Gabe’s uncle that hadn’t lessened over the years of their marriage. She refused to let her feelings get hurt, figuring that her patience and kindness would wear George down. Besides, Gabe’s love more than made up for his uncle’s indifference.

Jenny lifted Gabe’s hand. She stretched his long fingers out and moved her thumb over his palm. Surgeon’s hands. Warm hands. Could he really be dead?

Gabe’s face remained unlined and peaceful. If his brain had stopped, had his spirit already departed while the machine kept his body warm? Was Gabe somewhere in this room, hovering above, trying to come to grips with death himself, like people from near death experiences claimed? Was he confused? Scared? Jenny hoped not. Senses straining, she tried to feel something ghostly. Any subtle indication that Gabe’s existence had really changed so dramatically beyond the calm sleep that seemed to have claimed him.

God, please don’t take him from me. If this is my punishment for Michael or for wanting a baby, it’s not fair. Don’t punish Gabe because of me. It should have been me
.

“Mrs. Harrison?”

Jenny looked up into the chocolate-colored eyes of a tall, thin, dark-haired woman clutching a clipboard to her chest. But for the short, dark hair feathered away from her face and the pointy, pinched nose supporting wire-rimmed glasses, she very much resembled Popeye’s Olive Oyl.

“I’m Amy Bromley from Save a Life. The hospital thought I might be of some help to you.”

“Why? Can you save my husband?” Jenny raised her chin, challenging.

Amy looked at Gabe, then back at her. “Not the way you’re hoping.”