The lead surgeon, a tall black man, removed his surgical cap. “Mr. Sinatra suffered a catastrophic assassination attempt,” he made clear. “He was shot a total of six times.”
An audible gasp could be heard. But Roz remained silent and unmoved. She was in that SUV with him. She knew how catastrophic it was.
The doctor continued. “Many of the bullets were within centimeters or even closer to his vital organs. One bullet actually did perforate his liver.”
“Oh no,” Bella Caine bellowed out.
“He had intense internal bleeding,” the doctor continued, “but we were able to stop the bleeding and repair the organ.”
“You’re killing us here, Doc,” a distressed Big Daddy said. “What’s the bottom line? Tell us the bottom line! Is my baby brother going to live, or is he going to die?”
The idea of Mick Sinatra as anybody’s baby anything was laughable, but the lead surgeon kept it professional. “Barring any setbacks,” he said, “he most definitely is going to live.”
When the surgeon said those words, it was music to everybody’s ears. They were cheering and high-fiving and hugging and crying.
But Roz’s look went unchanged. She was still staring at those doctors. It was as if she couldn’t believe a word they said. “I need to see him for myself,” she said. “I’m not buying what you or anybody is trying to sell to me until I see my husband for myself.”
Big Daddy was a believer. He had a smile on his face. But he understood why Roz needed more. “Take her to him,” he ordered those doctors.
It was highly irregular, and the other two doctors wanted the lead doctor to say so. But he had other ideas. “Of course,” the lead surgeon responded. “It must be brief however. He’s still recovering. But please follow me.”
Roz, and everybody in that room, began to follow his lead. The other two surgeons, both older and white, knew it was too soon for Mick to have visitors. And they were still looking to their leader to make that clear.
But the lead surgeon knew such a display would be an exercise in futility. People that got their medical care from this unique hospital didn’t take no for an answer. Why make it worst by arguing with them? Let everybody see him for themselves, and then disperse the room.
That was his plan anyway.
But when they all followed Roz into Mick’s hospital suite, and Mick, to their shock was awake, they were too happy. Roz dropped to her knees, lifted her hands, and was praising God right in the middle of that room. She didn’t care who saw her or how crazy they thought she was. Mick was alive. He was awake. She knew, in that moment, her prayers had been answered and he was going to be alright.
Everybody were so happy it felt like delirium. Mick had to fight back tears himself when he saw his children again, and his brother and sister and nephews. But especially when he saw his beloved wife on her knees. Because to see that she was okay,and that Duke was okay, was all he needed to see. “Help your mother up,” he ordered and Teddy and Duke, who were beside her. And they did just that.
Mick’s voice was weak, and he still looked as if he was in considerable pain, but nobody could have sounded nor looked better to Roz. She made her way to the side of his bed with slow, deliberate steps. Because to her, and to everybody in that room beyond the doctors, it was jarring to see the great man holed up in that hospital bed. No shirt on. Tubes everywhere. It was still a scary sight to behold.
But Roz was too happy to be filled with fear anymore. Tears streamed down her face as she made it to his bedside and placed her hand on the side of his face. “Welcome back,” she said to him.
“Was I gone?”
Roz nodded. “Oh yeah.” She rubbed his hair. “But you’re back now, and that’s all that matters.”
“I still have your ass to kick for defying me.”
Roz smiled. “I want you to try.”
“Back it up here. I’ll show you better than I can tell you.”
Roz laughed. Mick did too. And everybody in the room laughed at a joke that ordinarily wouldn’t be funny at all.
But Jackie couldn’t wait for her mother and father to have their moment. They were taking too long. She had to touch him. She had to smell his cologne. Then she’d know it was her daddy. Then she’d know it was all real.
She hurried to his side too, as the tears rolled down her beautiful face. “Are you really okay, Daddy?” she asked him as he placed her hand on the side of his face. “Are you in a lot of pain?”
Mick smiled. “I’m good, Jacqueline. Thank you for asking.”
It was odd to hear Mick thanking somebody.
“Before I forget,” Roz said, “Deuce McCalister called.”
Mick looked at her. Deuce was his former driver now retired and Mick’s longtime best friend. “Is he okay? I thought he was in Ghana.”
