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BONE: A Contemporary Romantic Medical Suspense Story by Dee Palmer (28)

 

“Shit!” My eyes snap wide as I focus on the long list of missed calls and unread messages on my phone.

“What’s wrong?” Joel rolls his warm naked body so his chest is pressed against the bottom of my back, his head resting on his hand. I’m sitting bolt upright and frantically pressing speed dial.

“I have fifteen missed calls from Shannon.”

“Shannon?” He asks with a sleepy yawn. I shake my head, unable to explain as the call is picked up on the first ring.

“Hi, Shannon, what’s wrong, is Ruby okay?”

“Regan, thank god. No, no, she isn’t. I couldn’t wake her up this morning. We’re in an ambulance and on our way to Mercy. It’s the closest. Regan, she’s so pale, please hurry.”

“She’s breathing though, right? What’s her BP? Has she got any rashes…fuck, I’m on my way.” I hang up the phone before Shannon can answer. It doesn’t matter what she says, it won’t change a damn thing, and all I need to do is to get to Ruby.

“Joel.” Why can’t I move? His name falls lifelessly from my lips as my body decides now is a good time to shut down.

“I’ll drive. Get dressed.” He lifts himself from the bed. In my periphery, I can see him get dressed with lightning speed, gathering my clothes at the same time and placing them beside me.

“Ruby,” I mouth, still unable to make the slightest movement. My legs are weighted like lead to the bed, my feet fixed and rooted to the fluffy rug on the floor. It’s an effort to even suck in a breath.

“I know, Regan. You need to get dressed, now!” His voice is calm, assertive, and in control, all the things I’m not. I can’t even stand up. “Regan!” He calls out when I crumple from the bed, sliding to the floor in a broken heap. I hate my body for letting me down like this. I break, and floods of tears explode from my eyes as the very worst of every possible scenario bombards me. Joel is instantly on his knees, holding me up by my shoulders. “Regan, stop. You need to get up. We have to go to the hospital and get to Ruby.” He enunciates each word softly, with just the right amount of severity. “She needs you, and I can’t get you dressed when you’re catatonic. It’s just going to slow me down.” He smiles lightly, his attempt at humour falls into the void of numbness enveloping me. He barks my name, and I jolt. “Regan, can you hear me? Ruby needs you.” I nod, the urgency and truth in his words piercing through my nightmare.

“Yes, yes.” I allow him to lift me to my feet, his hold the only thing keeping me upright as, disorientated and dazed, I dress myself.

“Here, let me help.” Joel grabs the sleeve of my hoodie as it evades my arm for the umpteenth time. The tears haven’t stopped and neither has my mind, from racing to the darkest recesses of Ruby’s illness and most recent blood tests. “Hey, stop going there, Regan. We don’t know anything, okay?” He holds my soaked cheeks in his warm, strong hands. His eyes search mine, and his expression and tone seem so desperate, I find myself smiling at the possible light his words are offering.

It’s a fake smile, we both know it’s all fake.

“Good girl.” He grabs my bag and keys, hands me my coat, and opens my front door. His heavy arm rests on my shoulder, protectively manoeuvring me out of my apartment.

“Wait! Pierre!” I cry out, duck away from his hold, and rush back into Ruby’s bedroom. I return with her precious bedtime bear, holding it up for Joel as way of explanation. The lanky blue and white stripped cuddly toy is, at best, an artistic impression of a cartoon cat with its ridiculously long limbs, flat face, and odd vacant expression, but it’s Ruby’s favourite. “Pierre,”

“Obviously,” His soft understanding smile is more than I can bear, and when he pulls me into his hold at the first breaking judder from my body, I cling to him.

I don’t know how to do this.

He doesn’t say a word and squeezes me tighter than he’s ever held me, and then pulls away. “Ready?”

I’ll never be ready for this.

“Yes.”

 

Joel makes light work of the highway, but as we near the city outskirts, the roads start to get more congested, and every mile seems like a journey to the centre of the Earth for the time it’s taking. I know it’s not even busy, not for Chicago, not really, but I wouldn’t want to take my blood pressure at the rate my heart is jack hammering in my chest. I can feel every nerve ending pulled as tight as a high wire and ready to snap. Joel has been silent, or maybe he’s talked the whole way. I have no idea. All that consumes my mind is getting to Ruby.

“I can’t believe you drive this piece of shit. I’m buying you a new car tomorrow. This thing is a death trap.” I flash a tight grimace that was supposed to be a grateful smile.

“Thank you for driving. I don’t think I could keep my leg from shaking enough to even press the gas,” I confess, then clarify, “And you’re not buying me a car.”

“We’ll see.”

His arrogance ignites a spark of irritation I didn’t realise I had space in my head for.

“If this is your way of distracting me, it’s actually working.”

“Good,” He swings my car into the emergency entrance of Mercy Hospital.

“You can’t park here, Joel.”

“Why?”

“It will get towed. It’s a no parking zone.” I wave my finger at the very visible numerous warning signs. He doesn’t even cast a glance in the direction I am pointing.

“Isn’t it more important we get to Ruby as quickly as possible without having to fight for a parking space?” he explains with utter seriousness. If it wasn’t for the tell-tale glint in his eye, I would’ve have been suckered by his sincerity.

“Yes, but… Oh, nice try!” I clip.

“Trust me, getting this heap of junk towed would be a blessing; scrapped would be better, though,” he mutters, and at any other time, I might indulge his interference, if only for the sport, but not today. Today I have no more nerves for him to toy with. “Park it over there. You are not meddling in my life, Joel. Thank you for the lift, but this is my life, and other than a hot fuck, we are nothing, understand?”

“I understand you’re upset, so for now, I’ll stow my twitchy palm, but make no mistake, Regan, you’re wrong.” He clamps his jaw shut, and the muscle dances like it is electrified by pure rage in the tissue. I don’t have time for any of this. The car hasn’t stopped, and I open the door and leap from my seat. I hold the door from slamming shut with the forward momentum. I jog alongside for a few steps to make sure Joel can hear me through the small gap.

“Fine, I’m wrong. How about I tell you I love you, that should do the trick.” I let the door fall shut and turn, running flat out toward the emergency room, and I don’t look back.

“Regan!”

I may have been harsh, but I am more than upset, and none of that matters. Joel is not my problem.

 

“Hello, hello, you have my daughter, Ruby Isabell Jones. I have to see her.” I skid to a stop at the main reception, cursing myself for not calling Shannon back. She would at least know where Ruby is in this maze of different departments and warren of corridors and cubicles. I can’t assume they would take her directly to Dr Chan’s department just because she’s a patient there. I can’t assume anything.

The receptionist replies in a firm, friendly manner that falls on deaf ears. “That won’t be possible. If you will take a seat, I’ll page the doctor to come and talk to you.”

“No! I have to see her. I’m her mother. I’m a nurse; she needs me!”

“I’m sorry, Ms Jones. The doctors will be with you as soon as they can.” She tilts her head, and I want to slap the sympathy from her face. My fingers constrict tighter on the cool melamine countertop, and I drop my head with the weight of despair. She’s just doing her job.

“No, please…oh, god.” My breath shakes the words from my mouth. I’ve never been so scared, so helpless.

“I’m Dr Prescott; I was paged for Ruby Jones. Where is she being treated?” Joel holds his identification up to the receptionist only to snap it away from her face before she can focus. His confident tone makes my spine straighten, and I don’t dare look up at him. He shouldn’t be here like this, and he definitely shouldn’t be doing what he’s about to do. I discreetly cross my fingers on the counter that it works.

“Peds ICU, Dr Prescott.” The receptionist’s response is automatic, and she points in the direction he needs to head and even presses the button to unlock the doors before she visibly checks herself, her brow furrowed with concern. She tries to rectify her mistake. Thankfully, it’s way too late. Joel grabs my hand and is already slamming through the security doors. “I’m sorry I didn’t quite see your ID badge, you can’t go through there! Dr Prescott, Ms Jones!”

His determined stride is still too slow, and I pull my hand from his and race to the end of the corridor. The alarm echoes off the sterile walls, and the heavy footsteps of the security guards thunder behind me.

“Stop!” The voices boom as my hand slips on the heavy door, a sickly nervous sweat coating my skin. The door doesn’t move, and I’m an idiot to think it would just because I need it to. This isn’t a movie, and security is rightly tight. The lock holds and before I can howl my despair, I look over to Joel, who is now swiping the same ID badge through the security key pay. He holds up his hand as the security guards skid to a halt.

“It’s OK, she’s with me. I’m Dr Prescott.” Joel hands his ID over.

“You work here, Dr Prescott?” The security guard takes the ID, and I lean over to look for myself. It doesn’t have the same logo I have on mine.

“It’s a secondment, and yes, I do.”

“Possibly tell the receptionist that next time.” The guard hands back the ID and straightens his jacket that is bunched around his waist from the dash down the corridor.

“Will do.” Joel gives a two-finger salute and pushes the door to the ICU wide. I step through and under my breath mutter.

“I thought you were bluffing.”

“I was. I only teach here. I had no idea the ID would work on the wards.”

“I’m glad it did.” Stepping into the ICU, I feel relief wash over me, even if it’s momentary and the respite from gutting, churning fear is brief. I welcome the calm.

 

“Dr Chan?” The nursing pod is surrounded by individual rooms containing life-saving machines and busy professionals. I only see one, and she’s standing beside my baby. I rush over and wedge myself as close to Ruby as I can get. Dr Chan tries to ease me back but my vice like grip on the railing keeps me tethered.

“Regan, she’s sleeping.” Dr Chan’s voice is softly pleading. She could use a foghorn, but I’m not budging. “Please, Regan, you need to let us do our job.” I ignore the inference.

“Sleeping or unconscious?” I fight the emotions that are brimming over this dam of unbearable fear and try to do both my jobs: mother and nurse.

“Unconscious.”

“Has she woken at all?”

“No, I’m sorry.” Dr Chan rests her hand on mine, and soft comfort flows over me. She’s been Ruby’s physician for over two years, and I can hear in her voice this isn’t a doctor-to-family platitude for her. I swallow down the enormous lump that is threatening to choke the life out of me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“We’re still doing tests, Regan.”

“Bullshit!”

“Reggie,” Joel appears at my back, and when I turn in his arms and look into his eyes, I’m not sure I can stop this fall.

“But it’s Ruby, Joel. She’s all I have; she’s my baby.” My sobs break from me and are muffled by the folds in Joel’s shirt as he pulls me to his chest and wraps his arms around my shaking body.

I can’t do this.

“I know.” His lips press the words to the top of my head, and only when I’ve stopped shaking does he release me.

“Dr Chan, may I take a look?” It’s a rhetorical question since he has already logged on to the terminal and is accessing the information on the screen.

“We’re running more tests.” Dr Chan insists. The hesitation in her voice creates a fresh wave of terror.

“Are you expecting a different outcome?” Joel asks.

“No.”

“What? What is it? Is it leukaemia?” I rush and tug Joel away enough to read the screen. My eyes are glazed with tears, and I can’t focus on the tiny words or squiggly lines, all I see is her name, Ruby.

“No.” Dr Chan’s emphatic reply is like a solar burst of hope in my heart.

“Oh, thank god! “ I let out a happy heavy breath and beam the widest smile at Dr Chan and Joel. “That’s good news, right? Right? Joel?” I stutter as I feel the icy chill of their flat expressions pull me back under. Their words just float alongside me, swirling and dragging me further into an abyss of pure agony I never knew existed.

“Ruby has aplastic anaemia, Reggie.”

“It’s very serious, Regan. She’s going to need a bone marrow transplant.”

“Reggie….Reggie,” Joel’s worried eyes implore some response but I have nothing.