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Chapter Eighteen
Wesley
My week had started out good but was quickly heading downhill. On Monday the other pediatrician that worked in the emergency department had a death in the family and had flown out west. He was due back on Thursday, so I’d still be able to head out to my parents for the weekend.
However, with him gone, I was working double shifts almost every day, and I was wiped out. My saving grace was the few minutes that I got to speak with Charlotte each day. It wasn’t enough, and every time I laid my head down on my pillow at home, I wished that she was there with me. Soon enough, I hoped that would be the case.
The closer we got to the weekend, the more excited I became. I really was hoping that this weekend, Charlotte would finally explain to me about Marisol and that we could move forward with nothing else between us. Obviously, the story was difficult, but until she told me, I couldn’t help her deal with it. I really wanted to help her with it.
In the few downtimes that I had been blessed with the last few days, I’d thought about how I could talk to Charlotte about our future. If Marisol’s father really was out of the picture, and things worked out with us, would she be willing to let me adopt her daughter? The only thing that would be better was to have one of our own, and I was pretty sure that would happen.
Now it was Wednesday, and I had one more day to have my ass kicked. I was looking forward to a few days off more than I ever had. Sadly though my day was going from bad, to worse, to total shit. When I arrived at the hospital today for my shift, I had to deal with a child who had been abused and had several new broken bones, a few older breaks were also found, and he had internal organ damage thanks to a father that had kicked the shit out of his kid for speaking. It had been hard to keep my cool, but I’d managed—just barely.
I’d spend almost an hour with the police detective going over all the injuries and explaining the new ones versus the old ones. They were as grim as I was when we stepped out of the conference room, and child welfare services went to take custody of the child. Both the mother and father were going to be arrested because it was obvious that the mother knew what was going on and had not done anything to protect her child.
I was dwelling on how someone could mistreat a child like that, and it took my sour mood further into the pit. It was like a one-two punch when I had to diagnose my next patient with leukemia. I spent a little extra time with the parents to try and explain the treatments and where to go next, but it was a grave situation. Science had advanced drastically in the last twenty years, but the form that this child had was rarely cured.
I had barely finished with that family when the call came in for an unresponsive infant. The paramedics were doing everything that they could for the three-month-old, and when the baby arrived, we continued for another thirty minutes, but we couldn’t bring the child back. The story just got worse when the wrecked parents explained that the mother had four miscarriages before finally carrying this baby to term.
My heart broke for the couple as they stood beside the infant and cried for all they had lost. I hung my head for a moment as I stood at the counter.
Donna put her hand on my arm, “Rough day.”
“Yes, not sure it can get any worse.” I laughed because there was always the chance that it could. I’d once told Charlotte that even though I was sad when I lost a patient, I knew I had done everything that I could. I began to go over everything that we had done with the infant. Had I done everything? Was there something else I could have done?
“Don’t you have a lunch date?” one of the other nurses asked and I glanced at my watch.
“Shit, yeah, thanks I totally lost track of time. I’m gonna head over to the cafeteria. Page me if you need me.”
“Will do, Doctor Young.”
I smiled for the first time all day and was heading down the back hallway to meet my girls. Damn, I loved that—my girls.
When I came around a corner, I slowed. Charlotte and Marisol were standing in the hallway, and Tom, one of our new med students, was glaring down at them.
Tom laughed, “Damn, I should have gotten your number after that night. You were a wildcat. Would have been fun to stay in touch.”
I saw red and heard Marisol ask Charlotte who the man was. I probably shouldn’t have, but I walked right into the conversation. My instincts to protect what was mine was front and center.
“What’s going on?”
“Doctor Young, nothing to concern yourself with. I’m just talking to an old friend.” Tom told me, but he didn’t seem to understand that thiswasmy business.
Tom’s arm dropped from Charlotte’s arm as I glared at him.
“Charlotte, is this an old friend of yours?” She turned to me, her eyes wide and terrified.
“No, he’s not.”
“Bullshit, and I want to know how old this kid is. If that’s my kid, Charlotte, I should know.”
“Mommy, who is he talking about?”
Whatever was happening there, Marisol didn’t need to be a part of it. I removed her and handed her off to the first aide I knew and trusted. “Take her into the lounge and give her an ice pop. Marisol, you stay with Becky and Mom, and I will be right back.”
“Okay.” She said happily.
As I stalked back toward them, the last words that I’d heard him say echoed through my head. Was he her father?
