23
Just before lunch the next day, Alex is helping a small girl with cerebral palsy test her newly fitted crutches when the unit administrator puts her head around the door and holds the phone out to him.
“Ben’s secretary is on the line, says it’s urgent.”
Alex frowns. Why would Fiona be calling him? Has he forgotten to sign some paperwork for next week? He doesn’t think so and even if he has, can’t she just send it home with Ben? Besides she’ll be at the wedding. He helps Amy make her way to the puzzle table, tells her he’ll be right back, and asks Joan if she can sit with her while he’s on the phone. The little girl doesn’t have great balance and they have the play room to themselves this afternoon. He takes the handset from Joan, steps in to the hall, and leans against the wall.
“Hey Fiona, what’s up?” he asks.
“I tried your cell but couldn’t get you,” she says. Her voice is thin and reedy and she’s breathless.
“It’s in the office charging,” he says, skin prickling with fear as he pushes away from the wall. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Okay I want you to stay calm, he should be just about with you by now if he’s not the –”
“Fiona. What’s wrong?”
“Ben’s been shot.”
Alex shakes his head. He must have misheard that.
“What did you say?”
“He’s been shot. The ex of one of the women from the refuge Ben works with showed up, ranting and raving about the protection order Ben drew up. We were trying to calm him down waiting for security to get up here and remove him and he pulled a gun.”
Alex’s knees buckle, and he leans against the wall again for balance. Closes his eyes and forces himself to be clinical.
“Is he okay?”
“It got him mid-thigh. He left in the ambulance, headed in your direction I think, about ten minutes go now I guess, so they shouldn’t be too far away.”
Alex starts moving. He needs to go to the office, get his cell phone, tell Joan he’s leaving. He lets Fiona continue to talk; he can hear the shock in her voice and wants to reassure her, but he needs details. Where exactly did the ambulance team say they were going? Is he conscious? Breathing? Valley Presbyterian, his hospital. Good. Yes, he is conscious and breathing. Also good. In a wavering voice, she adds that there is a lot of blood. Not so good but not surprising. If he is conscious then chances are high that it didn’t hit the artery which is a good sign. He needs to get over the road to the Emergency Room.
“Fiona,” he says using the calm voice he uses with a hurt or frustrated child, “I have to hang up now and find him, okay? Is there someone who can take you home? Good. I’ll call you as soon as I know something. Yes, I promise.”
When he goes back to explain what’s happening, Joan flaps at him to go, go, call when he knows something. He grabs his phone from the charging dock in the office he shares with the unit head and forces himself to keep calm as he runs toward the main hospital.
#
At the Emergency Room reception desk he identifies himself as staff and asks if Ben Larsen, gunshot wound, has been brought in. The duty nurse searches and nods.
“Yes, about five minutes ago. Doctors are with him now.”
“Which room?”
“Fam-”
“He is my family. We’re getting married next week, now which fucking room?”
She stutters out the room number, still speaking when he runs down the hall and throws the door open. A harried looking doctor looks up in surprise when Alex bursts in and a nurse moves to push him out.
“Sir you can’t be in here.”
“It’s okay, I’m a nurse, he’s my partner,” he shouts, trying to push past her. Her fingers close around his elbow like a steel trap.
“Sir, you can’t be in here.”
“Are you Alex?” someone else asks. “He’s been asking for Alex.”
He yanks his arm away and turns on her, pointing to his badge as she reaches into her pocket for a phone.
“Yes, I’m Alex. See? Now let me go. He’s my partner. We’re getting married.”
“Baby, stop yelling, this is a hospital,” a voice slurs behind them. Alex spins and sees Ben at last. A near empty pouch of blood hangs from a pole at his side and a nurse is preparing to change it for a full one. Ben’s shirt has been unbuttoned and they’re applying sensors to his chest to monitor his heart, Alex can see the deep vein cannulas for blood and antibiotics already in place in his arm. His grey trousers have been cut away, a catheter tube winds out from beneath the sheet over his groin, a nurse is swabbing blood away from the wound. The surrounding tissue is swollen and messy, bruising already mottling the skin. He goes to the left of the bed, pushing his way in, and kisses Ben’s forehead, grips his left hand.
“God, I can’t leave you alone for five minutes, can I?”
Ben giggles, something Alex hopes he remembers to tell him about later because in the midst of all the shock it’s cute in a very surreal kind of way.
“I don’t know what they gave me, but I like it,” Ben says sounding drunk, “I do not recommend getting shot, baby. It fucking hurts, I tell you. Do you think the insurance will cover my suit? I liked that suit. I’m sleepy, think I’m going to nap now.”
“You do that,” Alex says and rests his head on Ben’s, sighing with relief when he hears the first snore. He looks up and offers the bemused medical team a shaky, apologetic smile.
“He’s an ass, but I love him,” he says.
“Okay, then.” The ER doctor’s face suggests he’s familiar with the concept. “You say you’re a nurse?”
Alex nods.
“Then you’ll understand how serious this is. The bullet is still in there. He got lucky, missed the femoral artery and I think it’s missed the bone but I can’t be sure until we get him into x-ray which we needed to be in about three minutes ago. From what they’ve told me it was a small hand gun which is in our favor, but we’re not going to know until we get in there.” He offers a grim smile when Alex nods his understanding. “You also know, you can’t be in here, so are you authorized to sign release forms?”
For once, Alex is grateful for Ben’s pedantic insistence that every single ‘i’ be dotted and ‘t’ crossed, in triplicate. He nods and lets one of the nurses lead him down the hallway to fill in forms while they prepare Ben. Ben made him store insurance, social security, and emergency details in his phone and he swipes through them, copying numbers and names to the forms. For his part, he’s insisted they continue to get six monthly blood checks even though he knows the chances of either of them being positive for anything are practically nil. Being able to provide the dates and results of the most recent tests means there won’t be delays. He looks up when an orderly pushes the gurney out of the examination room and scribbles his signature on the bottom of the final form.
“I’m going with him,” he says tossing the pen down. If they need any more information they can damned well come and find him in x-ray.
Holding Ben’s hand as they move through the corridors, Alex runs through the calls he’ll have to make. Allie, Matt, Fiona, Meg to sort out Bart. Outside the x-ray department he kisses the still sleeping Ben and watches as he disappears through the doors.
#
It takes five minutes to find the number for Allie’s neighbor, Mrs Morris, and explain everything. He stresses that Ben is going to be fine, that neither woman is to be left alone with the news, and to call him on his cell phone the minute they have been told. He then calls Joan to fill her in and tell her he won’t be back today hardly noticing her reply of “I should think not”. As he hangs up they wheel Ben out and he falls into step beside them. Ben’s eyes flutter open and he gives Alex a lopsided smile when he sees him.
“Hey, you,” he says and gropes for Alex’s hand. Licks his lips. “Hurts.”
“Not surprised,” Alex says. “It’ll feel better when they get the bullet out.”
“They took my necklace.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get it for you.”
They arrive at the theatre doors and Alex kisses him again.
“I’m going to wait out here for you okay? I love you.”
“Love you back,” Ben says as the door swing shut.
Alex’s cell phone buzzes and when he looks down he sees Allie’s name on the screen. He takes a deep breath and taps answer.
“Hey Allie,” he says and drops onto one of the chairs in the waiting area.
“Alex, is he okay? What happened?”
“Allie try to stay calm. He’s being prepped for surgery now. We’re waiting for the x-rays to be brought up, but as soon as they know something I promise I’ll call.”
“I’m coming up,” Allie says, and Alex can hear the panic in her voice.
“No, Allie. Don’t. You can’t do anything and it will only stress him. It looks like the bullet probably missed everything major and he was conscious when I got here and worrying about whether the insurance would cover his suit so that’s a good sign. I promise you I’ll call.”
“Alex, he’s my son and I want to –”
This time he uses the voice for parents who are convinced their child can’t do something he knows they can do if they’re given a chance.
“Allie listen to me. I know you do but you driving up here isn’t going to help him or you. You need to stay with Polly and stay by the phone and as soon as I know something I swear I will call you,” he says. The door swings open and the ER doctor comes through, dressed in surgical scrubs. “Allie, the surgeon’s here, I need to talk to him. Stay by the phone, I’ll call back in a few minutes, promise.”
He hangs up without giving her a chance to answer and waits for the Doctor to speak.
“We got lucky. It’s lodged deep in the muscle, missed the bone and major arteries. If everything stays on our side, hopefully there’ll be little nerve damage. You’ve signed all the paperwork I take it?”
Relief washes through Alex and wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, he nods.
“Right then, let’s go get this bullet out, shall we?”
Alex smiles and watches him go, then phones Allie back. He reassures her that under the circumstances things are better than they could have hoped for. Polly insists on speaking to him and he has to repeat his insistence that they not come up.
“Polly, I know you want to but honestly, if the surgery goes according to plan, they’ll probably want to send him home tomorrow or the day after and I’ll bring him straight down. I promise.”
“What are you going to do about the wedding?” she asks.
“For now, I’m not going to worry about it,” he tells her, and they say their goodbyes and he begins making other calls. Fiona bursts into relieved tears when he tells her Ben will be fine and he double checks there’s someone with her while she works through her own shock. Meg tell him that of course she’ll get Bart from the day kennel and look after him, before asking in her usual shy, hesitant voice if there’s anything else he needs. He reassures he’s fine and finally phones Matt, who as soon as he hears what has happened tells him he’ll be right there. Before Alex can protest the line is dead and he leans back in his chair with a sigh.
He’s still there, eyes closed, when Matt and Claire arrive twenty minutes later, carrying a tray of coffee cups.
“Oh my God, Alex,” Claire cries and throws her arms around him. “How long has he been in there? What happened?”
Alex tells them what he knows as he sips his coffee. Matt listens in silence, letting his wife ask questions and prompt for details.
“He’s going to be okay, Alex,” he says when Alex finally stops speaking.
“He better be; we’re getting married.” Alex hopes he sounds sound more confident than he feels. “And we’re going to have a family. We talked about it and we’re going to have a family. Adopt or … or … use a surrogate or something. So, you know, he has to be fine.”
Claire puts her arm around his shoulder and leans her head against his.
“Of course you are, brat. And of course he’s going to be fine. He has you to look after him.”
Alex gives her a grateful smile. Shock and fear have left him feeling a weird mix of numb and jittery; he can’t think of much beyond the doctor coming back out and telling him everything will be okay.
They sit in silence, drinking coffee, and waiting. When the doors finally swing open and the doctor emerges, Alex leaps to his feet.
“It was a bit deeper than I thought but we managed to get it and get everything cleaned up. Everything looks clean, but I imagine he’s going to be in pain for a while. They’ll be taking him into recovery shortly and under the circumstances, given you’re a staff member, if you scrub up, I think you can probably join him there if you want to.”
Claire has an arm around his waist and Matt, a hand on his shoulder, and he hears them both breathe sighs of relief. He smiles and nods – God, it feels like he’s been doing that for hours.
“I’d like that, thank you.”
The surgeon leaves them to wait for the team to bring Ben through. When Claire offers to phone Allie for him, Alex accepts with a hug just as the doors swing open. Ben is still unconscious; small and pale among the tubes and poles, right thigh free of the blankets, bandaged and elevated. Alex finds his hand among the covers and grips it as they walk.
#