“Dr. Monroe and I talked about this last night,” Annie said. “Until and unless Linda has other complicating signs, there’s no reason to change the plan for her to give birth here. We’ve still got quite a ways to go, and things might change. That’s why we’re going to watch her carefully. After the next few days, I’ll see her every week or sooner if we need to. If there’s any sign of complications, then we’ll switch plans immediately and have her deliver at PMC.”
“Okay.” Robin let out a long breath. “I’m really glad the two of you are taking care of her. Thanks.”
Annie smiled. “Of course.”
“Don’t mention it,” Hollis said.
On the way to the car, Annie said, “Thanks for the backup in there.”
“Did you expect me to try a power play?”
Annie paused by the car. “On some level, I think I did.”
“You know,” Hollis said, “we’re playing without a rule book here.”
“Yes, I know. I can’t say I like it much.”
“No, neither do I.” Annie went around to the driver’s side, unlocked the car, and climbed in.
She waited while Hollis buckled her seat belt. “Linda is an unusual circumstance—we’ve been forced into a joint-care situation in the middle of an emergency. Ordinarily that wouldn’t happen.”
“You’re right,” Hollis said. “We’d be seeing patients jointly, but you’d have the lead unless problems escalated.”
“You’d be all right with that?” Annie hadn’t expected such an easy concession. Hollis wasn’t like most of the OBs she ran into—but then, Hollis wasn’t like anyone she knew. She had a healthy ego, but she didn’t let it get in the way of what really mattered. “Playing backup wouldn’t bother you?”
“I’ve got plenty to do,” Hollis said. “Are you going to fight me if I think it’s too to risky for a patient to continue with the home-birth plan?”
“I don’t know. I suppose it depends on whether I agree.”
“Well, that’s why we’re doing this.” Hollis shrugged. “This kind of intensive follow-up is time-consuming and expensive, though.”
“Time-consuming, yes,” Annie said, starting the car and pulling out, “but we don’t charge for every follow-up visit, and even when we do, our scale is less than yours.”
“Okay, remuneration aside, it’s a lot more work for you.”
“Yes, I suppose, but that’s exactly why we feel comfortable following high-risk patients.” Annie signaled a turn onto Lincoln Drive. “We see them so frequently and in such different circumstances, we usually can identify the onset of complications at a very early stage.”
“What happens if you’re not available? Someone else takes your place?”
Annie frowned. “Yes, but it’s not ideal and I don’t like it. That’s why I take call even when I’m not on call.” She smiled over at Hollis. “I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”
Hollis laughed. “Oh, I do.”
“See,” Annie said lightly, “we have more in common than you thought.”
“I know,” Hollis murmured, looking forward to the next few hours. Spending time with Annie, working or relaxing, filled her with equal parts excitement and contentment. She steadfastly refused to consider why. She just wanted the feeling to continue.
As Annie visited the pre- and postnatal patients on her list, Hollis quickly appreciated that Annie’s patients trusted her completely. Hollis could see why. Annie was fast and efficient, giving each patient her undivided attention and calming anxious loved ones at the same time. She was a natural caregiver.
A little after eleven, Annie said, “That’s it for the home calls. Do you want me to drop you at home or the hospital?”
“Home is good. What’s on for you the rest of the day?”
“I’m going to pick up Callie for lunch and then deliver her to a friend’s until I finish in clinic this afternoon.”
“I have clinic tomorrow. Do you want to come along?”
“Yes. We should sit down and compare our schedules and work something out for the next—I don’t know, what do you think? Two weeks?”
“Better make it a month, at least,” Hollis said. “We don’t want anyone to accuse us of rushing to judgment.”
Annie rolled her eyes. “No, God forbid.”
“Meet me for lunch tomorrow? We’ll work something out.”
“All right.” Annie pulled up in front of Hollis’s and shut off the engine. “I liked working with you today.”
“Yeah,” Hollis said, wishing the morning didn’t have to end. “I did too. You’re good.”
Annie laughed. “Not what you expected?”
“Not exactly. I expected you’d be confident. But you’ve got…the touch. You connect with people—and they feel it. It’s like a surgeon having good hands. Some people have it, others never get it. Can’t teach it. That absolute sense of caring can’t be faked, and you have that.”
Annie caught her breath. Hollis couldn’t possibly know how much that meant to her. “Thank you.”
Hollis made no move to get out of the car and Annie didn’t want her to. The windows were down and a warm breeze sifted through the front seat, ruffling Hollis’s hair. Annie was reminded of summer days on the farm and the smell of fresh-cut hay and the utter stillness of the air, as if she could reach out and grab handfuls of the steamy heat and wrap it around her fingers like strands of cotton candy. She’d felt so vastly alone then, under that endless blanket of blue sky and sun, that she’d ached for something she couldn’t name. The ache pulled at her now. Hollis was so close. So real.
“Callie hasn’t…” Annie’s voice broke and she gripped the wheel. “Callie hasn’t stopped asking about a bike since last night.”
Hollis released her seat belt and turned toward her, her knee brushing Annie’s. “You ready to get her one?”
“She’ll need training wheels, right?”
“It depends on her balance and how comfortable she is on the bike.” Hollis smiled. “But she inherited your touch—I was watching her color. She’s got really good coordination. I think she’ll pick it up pretty quick.”
Annie’s heart fluttered. She hadn’t believed it could do that—not unless she was on her way to the ICU. Hollis had noticed Callie color. Hollis really looked. Hollis saw her. The fluttering settled lower in her belly, grew heavier. More insistent. She thought of Hollis’s hand on her neck and a pulse tripped between her thighs. She took a breath, kept her voice light although she trembled everywhere. “I guess I’ll probably have to get a bicycle too, then.”
“It’s a great way to spend time together.” Hollis smiled. “Once Rob taught me…”
Hollis’s smile faded. There was no mistaking the look, the same one she’d seen on Hollis’s face in the stairwell at Linda’s. Pain, raw and untempered. “Rob?”
“My oldest brother.” Hollis averted her gaze. “He taught me—well, pretty much everything.”
“He sounds great. Is he—”
Hollis’s chin shot up. Her eyes were two dark pools, completely opaque. “He’s dead. He was in the South Tower.”
“Oh God, Hollis. I’m sorry.” Annie took Hollis’s hand. Her fingers were icy. She pulled Hollis’s hand into her lap and cupped it between both of hers, rubbing gently as if that would help. She knew the cold was somewhere much deeper than she could touch, but she had to try. “I’m so sorry.”
“He wasn’t even supposed to be anywhere around, but I…” Hollis shuddered.
“What?” Annie moved closer and brushed her fingers through Hollis’s hair. “What?”
“I was supposed to meet him for breakfast, and we were going to go house hunting. His wife was pregnant and he wanted a bigger place.” Hollis leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “I canceled at the last minute. I’d spent the night at my girlfriend’s and we were still… I figured Rob and I could always go another day.”
“You couldn’t know—”
“Rob was always there for me. Always.” Hollis’s jaw clenched. “But I couldn’t drag my ass up to meet him, so he went to the fire station to hang with the guys. He rolled out when the call came. He was probably one of the first on scene.”
Hollis’s anguish ripped at the fabric of Annie’s soul. She didn’t have words to ease that horrible pain, but she ached to try. She stroked Hollis’s hair. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”
“I’m okay.” Hollis pulled away. Her eyes were wounded, haunted.
“Hollis—let me come inside. I’ll fix us some lunch.”
“No,” Hollis whispered. “I’m not good company now. I’ll see you in clinic.”
“Hollis, wait—”
Hollis pushed open the door and a few seconds later, she was gone.
Annie understood Hollis wanted to be alone, didn’t want to let Annie or anyone inside. She shouldn’t care, but she did. Being shut out cut deep. She hadn’t thought she’d ever let anyone get close enough to hurt her again, but she knew Hollis could. She drove away, grateful for the pain—taking it as a warning. She’d lost sight of all she’d learned for a short time, but she was clear now. She wasn’t going to give anyone the power to hurt her, not even Hollis.
Chapter Twenty
Floor rounds were running late, and Hollis didn’t have time to think of Annie or dwell on the wounds their conversation had opened. Every time Annie’s face, soft with sympathy and, later, hurt, swam into her consciousness, she grabbed another chart and concentrated on taking care of other people’s worries. That had worked to keep her pain at bay when things got bad for almost ten years, but not today. Today she had to struggle to block Annie out. She had three post-op checks left when she got a STAT page. She grabbed a wall phone and dialed the extension. Ned’s secretary picked up.
“Hold just a moment, Dr. Monroe,” the secretary said. “He’s right here.”
“Hi,” Ned said. “I’ve got a near-term mother in the office with placenta previa. Can you see her?”
“Is she bleeding?”
“A little spotting—that’s what brought her in. No contractions.”
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