The Common Thread (25 page)

“But what do you do?” Nic asked again, and she also turned, pulling her legs up beneath her on the bench as Rae explained her job as an attorney for the DEA and touched on the case she was working on now, putting together the prosecution for when they found their defendant.

“Prescription-drug abuse is a huge problem in the ER, too.”

“You mean with staff?”

Nic laughed. “Well, you do hear stories now and then about nurses and doctors stealing meds for their own use.
Nurse Jackie
really does exist. But I was talking about the patients. People come in with all kinds of excuses for needing narcotics. Back pain, migraines, tooth aches, anything they can think of to get drugs.”

“So how do you handle that?”

“I tell them to get lost.”

Rae scowled. “But how do you do that? What about people with legitimate pain?”

Nic raised her voice an octave. “My job isn’t to treat chronic pain. They should be getting those meds from their family doctors, not from the ER.”

“So you let them suffer?”

Nic shrugged, softening her tone. “I don’t suspect they have real pain, Rae. I suspect they have real addiction.”

“So you don’t think anyone deserves to be treated? What about someone with a broken leg?”

“Well, that’s a new injury. Of course that should be treated. I’m talking about the chronic stuff—back pain and migraines and fibromyalgia—that sort of thing.”

“Well, can’t those people get worse some times?”

Nic rolled her eyes.

Rae was quiet for a moment before she responded. “Well, I guess if every doctor approached it that way, we wouldn’t have such a prescription-drug problem in America.” She allowed a flash of a smile before she turned away.

“Don’t be mad at me,” Nic said, and touched Rae’s shoulder. Why did she care what this woman thought? She’d go home tomorrow and they’d probably never see each other again. Yet she found something appealing about Rae, something intangible that went beyond her looks and her intelligence and her humor. Some spark, some chemistry, a rare and elusive connection existed between them that she’d only once experienced before—with Louis. Never with a woman—although perhaps that wasn’t completely true. Her best friend from high school had been very special, right up until the day Nic came out to her. It had certainly never happened with another lesbian.

Rae’s smile was full this time, and genuine. “Oh, I’m not mad. I do find you challenging, though. Is there any topic we agree on?”

Nic held up her hands in offering. “Cheesesteaks.”

Both of them laughed, and peace was made.

They sat quietly then, looking out at the river as the evidence mounted that this day was coming to an end. The sun was low in the sky, the mosquitoes making their appearance, and the temperature was beginning to drop just a little. Where had the time gone? Between the art and the company, Nic had had a lovely afternoon. But they couldn’t sit on that park bench forever. She’d have liked to, though, and that realization was perhaps the most wonderful thing to happen to her in a very long time.

“Shall we go?” Rae asked as Nic rubbed the goose flesh on her arms.

“I think we should,” Nic replied, disappointed. They walked to the car in silence, and as she opened the car door, her phone beeped to inform her of a message awaiting her. She’d spent the past two hours blissfully unaware that she’d forgotten to take her phone out of Rae’s car.

“Do you mind if I check to see who called? I always worry when I’m away from home. My parents aren’t getting any younger.”

“No, I understand perfectly. Feel free.”

“It’s Louis,” she said after scanning her messages.

“You can answer it.”

“He probably called to warn me to bring you home in one piece.” Nic typed in her password, listened to the message, and gasped. As she turned, she saw Rae watching her. “Can you take me to the hospital?” she asked.

“What’s wrong?”

She looked at those brown eyes, now filled with concern, and knew her own probably matched them. “I don’t know, but it can’t be good.”

Jet sat with her face in her hands, appreciative of the comfort of Jeannie Bennett beside her. When the doctors had rushed Katie to the OR, her first inclination had been to call her parents. Then she realized they were doing a much greater service by watching Chloe and Andre. At the moment, the kids had to be their priority. So she’d called Jeannie, and within half an hour, her boss was there, worrying just as much as Jet but looking poised and together nonetheless.

It had been a great relief when the doctor entered the waiting room to inform them Katie had survived the surgery. He painted a grim picture and said Katie was extremely critical and still on a ventilator, but Jet understood the meaning of the vital signs and knew Katie was doing a lot better than she’d been on the floor of Bruce Smick’s office.

A long night was in store for them, so Sandy, who’d come along with Jeannie, had gone for coffee and doughnuts and brought some back for the SICU nurses, a thoughtful gesture that Jet understood would gain her a favor with the staff when she needed one. Jet now sipped her coffee, but in spite of the fact that she hadn’t had dinner, she didn’t have any appetite for the doughnuts that sat on the table beside her chair.

It was approaching nine o’clock. Nearly five hours had passed since Katie was shot, three since her surgery ended, and ninety minutes since they’d been allowed to briefly see her. Katie was, of course, unconscious, with tubes inserted into her mouth and her bladder and veins, and complex machines were breathing for her and infusing fluids at a precisely calculated rate. Yet the sight of her was a comfort, watching her chest rise and fall reassuring, even if the ventilator was doing the work. Jet had groaned when the staff told them they’d have to leave and had checked the clock every few minutes, counting the time until she could see her lover again.

Jet looked at the other faces of anguish that surrounded her and knew she was probably more fortunate than most of them. Katie would live, in spite of the resident’s dire words. She couldn’t and wouldn’t accept any alternative. Other people gathered here didn’t have such optimism, nor did some of them have reason, and it showed on their faces.

The door to this private lounge opened, and Jet turned as Jeannie’s words hit her ear just as hard as an imagined punch hit her gut, knocking the wind from her.

“Oh, shit,” Jeannie said, to which Jet replied, “What the hell?”

Katie had just walked into the lounge, a dark-haired woman not much taller following closely behind. She wore a khaki miniskirt and a bright-green sleeveless sweater, with bright-green matching backless loafers. As always, she was phenomenally beautiful but seemed to have more confidence in her stride, like she was right at home in the hospital and on a mission. The contrast reminded Jet that this woman couldn’t be Katie. Katie was unconscious, fighting for her life just a few yards away in the SICU.

She stood but Jeannie was quicker, a step ahead as they raced across the room.

The woman who held such a stunning resemblance to Katie noticed them then, and her face registered great confusion as she asked, “Aunt Jeannie, what are you doing here? What’s going on?”

Jet caught up to her, and Jeannie looked at Jet, her expression clearly troubled. “Jet, I’d like you to meet my godchild, Nicole Coussart. Nic, this is the head nurse at my office, Jet Fox. And this woman, I’ve never seen before,” she said as Rae pulled up beside Nic.

“Your godchild?” Jet asked, as if it were a complex concept.

At the same time, Nic offered an introduction to Rae.

“Jeannie, what’s going on?” Jet demanded, still staring at Nic.

“That’s what I want to know,” Nic asked, but her tone wasn’t as gentle as Jet’s. She was staring intently at Jeannie.

“How did you find out?” Jeannie asked Nic.

“Find out what?” she replied.

At that moment the doors to the SICU opened, and a doctor emerged. He looked their way and then hurried toward them. “I’m so glad to see you,” he said as he pulled Nic into a tight hug. “Something fucking strange is going on here.”

“You’ve got that right,” Jet said, still staring at Nic.

“Hey, Rae. Hey, Jeannie, how are you?” the doctor said, holding out his hand in greeting.

“I’ve had better days,” Jeannie replied, and then she continued. “Oh, I see. Louis, you called Nic, huh?”

“Yeah. I had to see her. I have a patient back there who looks just like her and not only that—”

“Kathleen Finan? She’s here?” Nic asked.

Louis nodded.

“What happened to her?”

“She was shot.”

“Is that why you called me? You could have just told me on the phone.”

“Nic, you’re not going to believe—”

“Actually, Louis,” Jeannie said, “can we go someplace a little more private? I think Nic needs to hear this from me.”

“You know about this?” he demanded, taking a step forward, his posture both shocked and defensive.

“Yes.”

“What’s going on, Jeannie?” Jet was pleading now. Jeannie wrapped an arm around her waist.

“I’ll explain it all in a moment,” she said as they followed Louis into the surgical residents’ lounge. Fortunately, it was empty.

They all sat and looked at Jeannie, who was studying the ceiling. After a moment she looked at Nic. “Nicole, you have a twin sister. An identical twin. Her name is Katie Finan.”

After Jeannie’s announcement, Nic spoke first. “What the fuck are you talking about?” She looked from the serious expression on Jeannie’s face to the others in the room. They wore mixtures of confusion and concern as well, and Nic drew some small comfort in knowing she wasn’t the only one who thought Jeannie had lost her mind.

“You have a twin,” Jeannie repeated, nodding but saying nothing else.

Nic stared at her again and then at the others in the room. Rae put a hand on her back, and though Nic felt somewhat reassured by her presence, she still couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Jeannie, how? What are you saying? That I was a twin and my parents adopted only one of us?”

“Yessss…no. It wasn’t their choice, Nic. You were the second baby, and the other family didn’t want both of you.”

“What? That’s absurd.” All was quiet for a moment, and Nic silently studied the faces around her, looking for some reassurance, but none came. Her eyes once again found Jeannie. “Tell me what happened.”

Jeannie cleared her throat. “I was working the night you were born. It was the last month of my residency—my OB rotation. Family docs delivered babies back in those days. Your mom—your biological mother, that is—came in. She was already in advanced labor when I examined her. Her mother was with her, and so was a priest. She was a college student, didn’t tell her parents she was pregnant, apparently was planning to keep you. Her parents had other plans, though, and they arranged for an adoption, through the church. Before Katie was even born, the adoptive parents arrived. I delivered Katie and the placenta, and all seemed well. I went to check on the baby, talked to the adoptive parents, gave them my card, and offered to be the baby’s doctor. A minute later one of the nurses came looking for me. Your mom was having contractions again. A few minutes later, you were born.”

Jeannie took a sip of her coffee and, before she could swallow, Nic spoke. “Well, then what?”

“I went out to talk to the Finans and told them there was another baby. They were shocked, of course. Everyone was. We didn’t use ultrasound routinely back then. No one knew there were twins. Marge Finan would have taken you both, but her husband would have no part of it. He told her no, and she couldn’t convince him otherwise. After a few minutes, she asked if I could find another suitable family to take you.”

Jeannie sipped her coffee and Nic once again spoke up. “So you called my parents.”

Jeannie nodded and looked relieved that Nic seemed to understand. “Yes. First, I talked with your biological mom and told her about your folks. She thought they would be great for you. So then, I called them. Your dad tried to convince Jack Finan to keep you both, but he wouldn’t waver. Then your dad offered to take both of you, and all that did was piss Jack off. He didn’t just refuse to give up Katie. He also refused to allow any contact between your families. The Finans weren’t planning to tell her she was adopted, and he didn’t want her to think she’d got a bum deal by getting them, instead of rich doctors.”

“Jeannie, this sounds like a bad movie,” Nic told her. “You’re kidding, me, right?”

“What’s your birthday?” Jet asked.

Nic looked at her, wondering why Jet was here and what gave her the right to interrupt. Instead of telling her off, though, she answered the question. “It’s tomorrow. Why?”

Jet shook her head, looking as confused as Nic felt. “Then she’s not kidding. Katie’s birthday is tomorrow, too.”

“Just who the hell are you?” Nic demanded. What right did Jet have to be in this conversation? This was between her and Jeannie.

“I’m Katie’s partner.”

Nic noticed the look of surprise on Jeannie’s face but didn’t say anything to her. Instead, she continued to question Jet. “Did she know about me?”

Jet cleared her throat before answering and wiped away tears on the sleeve of her Phillies T-shirt. “She has no clue. She doesn’t even know she was adopted.”

“Jesus, this is unbelievable.” Nic leaned back and felt Rae beside her, and never was she so grateful for the presence of another human being. Rae’s hand moved in small circles on her back, the rhythm like a heartbeat, calm and soothing.

Jet turned to Louis and asked, “So are you Katie’s doctor now?”

Louis nodded. “I did the surgery. I’m sorry I couldn’t get out to talk to you earlier, but another trauma came in and I had to go back to the OR. Someone spoke to you, right?”

Jet nodded. “Yes, a woman. She told us the surgery went well but Katie was still critical.”

Louis nodded again. “That’s right. I had to remove her spleen, and she lost quite a bit of blood. But she’s stable now. She’s holding her own. You guys can go back to see her if you’d like.”