Fatal Cure. Chapter 22, 23
22
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 29
Once again neither David nor Angela slept well. As was becoming his habit, David woke well before dawn. Although he was exhausted, he didn’t feel ill like he had the previous morning.
Without waking Angela he went down to the family room to ponder their financial situation. He began to make a list of things to do and people to call, ranking them according to priority. He firmly believed their current plight required calm, rational thinking.
Angela appeared at the doorway in her robe. In her hand was a tissue; she’d been crying. She asked David what he was doing. He explained but she wasn’t impressed.
“What are we going to do?” she cried. New tears spilled from her eyes. “We’ve made such a mess of everything.”
David tried to console her by showing her his lists, but she shoved them away, accusing David of being out of touch with his feelings.
“Your stupid lists aren’t going to solve anything,” she said.
“And I suppose your hysterical tears will,” David shot back.
Fortunately, they didn’t let their argument go any further. They both knew they were overwrought. They also knew they each had their own way of dealing with a crisis.
“So what are we going to do?” Angela asked again.
“First, let’s go to the hospital and check on Nikki,” David said.
“Fine,” Angela said. “It will give me a chance to talk with Helen Beaton.”
“It will be futile,” David warned. “Are you sure you want to expend the emotional effort?”
“I want to be sure she’s aware of my complaint about sexual harassment,” Angela said.
They had a quick breakfast before starting out. It felt strange for both of them to be going to the hospital yet not to work. They parked and went directly to the ICU.
Nikki was fine and antsy to get out of the unit. Although she’d found the bustle engrossing during the day, the night shift wasn’t so pleasant. She’d gotten little sleep.
When Dr. Pilsner arrived he confirmed that Nikki was going to a regular room as soon as the floor sent someone to transport her.
“When do you think she’ll be coming home?” Angela asked.
“As well as she’s doing, she’ll be home in just a few days,” Dr. Pilsner said. “I want to make certain she doesn’t suffer a relapse.”
While David stayed with Nikki, Angela headed for Helen Beaton’s office.
“Would you call Caroline and have her get my schoolbooks?” Nikki asked David.
“I’ll take care of it,” David promised. He was purposefully evasive. He was still reluctant to tell his daughter about Caroline’s death.
David couldn’t help but notice that Sandra’s bed in the ICU was now occupied by an elderly man. It was half an hour before David mustered the courage to go to the unit clerk and ask about her.
“Sandra Hascher died this morning about three,” the clerk said. He spoke as if he were giving a weather report; as accustomed to death as he was, he was unmoved.
David wasn’t so unmoved. He’d been fond of Sandra, and his heart went out to her family, particularly her motherless children. Now he’d lost six patients in two weeks. He wondered if that was a record at Bartlet Community Hospital. Maybe CMV had been wise to fire him.
Promising Nikki that he and her mother would be back to see her later after she’d been moved to a regular room, David walked over to administration to wait for Angela.
Hardly had David sat down when Angela came storming out of the hospital president’s office. She was livid. Her dark eyes shone with intensity, and her lips were clamped shut. She walked past David without slowing. He had to run to catch up with her.
“I suppose I shouldn’t ask how it went,” David said as they pushed through the doors to the parking lot.
“It was terrible,” Angela said. “She’s upholding Wadley’s decision. When I explained to her that sexual harassment was at the bottom of the whole affair, she denied that any sexual harassment had taken place.”
“How could she deny it when you’d spoken with Dr. Cantor?” David asked.