Just Destiny (7 page)

Gabe always claimed Judith was an extraordinary doctor. Judith and Gabe had been great friends for years and he’d fathered her children. She’d save Gabe if it were within her power. Judith slowly closed the blue plastic chart and placed it to the side of the nurses’ desk. Her eyebrows pulled together until two vertical parallel lines creased her forehead. She slumped in the chair and stared at her Dansko clogs.

“Did you find anything?” Jenny had to ask, then exhaled in disappointment at the raw grief in the other woman’s eyes.

“No.” She took a deep breath. “There’s no consent to donate organs in his chart. You’re going to donate, aren’t you? He’d want that.”

“How do you know?”

“We discussed it when we were residents.” Judith rose and came over to her. “He never wanted to be on a respirator and he wanted to be an organ donor.”

Jenny didn’t know what to say. Jealousy ripped through her. Here was Gabe’s ex-wife, cool as can be, bugging her about giving away his organs. She’d had her time with him. She’d gotten her children and then discarded him for another man. Judith would always have a living reminder of Gabe, but Jenny had nothing. Nothing but memories that would fade in time.

She opened her mouth to explain about the sperm recovery, then closed it. If Judith thought it was a bad idea, could she block the procedure? Just then the organ donor lady rounded the corner. Jenny was forced to introduce them. Knowing that Judith respected strength, Jenny straightened her shoulders and pretended a confidence she didn’t feel.

“I’ve agreed to donate Gabe’s organs, but first they need to recover his sperm for me.” Should she tell them about the miscarriage? She frowned—no, it was too new—too personal, but she felt compelled to explain the odd request. “This way I can still have our baby.”

Judith raised her eyebrows but didn’t comment.

Jenny turned to Amy. “So where do we stand?”

“I have good news and not so good news.” Amy glanced at Judith, as if wondering if she should share this in front of the other woman or speak to Jenny privately. “Dr. Steinmetz is a urologist on staff here, and he’s consented to recover your husband’s sperm. This hospital doesn’t have an ethics committee, so we don’t have to wait for approval. However, I’m having a hard time finding a sperm bank willing to store it for you.”

“Why?”

“Well, this is a very unusual situation. So far, four out of the five sperm banks in Michigan have refused to store your husband’s sperm. The Kalamazoo lab is dragging its feet. I’ve called dozens of companies, and the only one willing to take it right now is located in California.”

“Really?” Jenny deflated. California was so far away. How could California be the
only
one?

“I’m afraid so.”

“Since you have a urologist willing to do the surgery, I’d advise you not to let him know you’ve run into this much resistance to storing the sperm.” Judith said. “He might change his mind.”

“Why?”

“Well, this is pretty controversial.” Judith crossed her arms over her chest and gave Jenny a censorious look. “What you’re asking him to do isn’t exactly illegal, but it
does
stretch ethical limits.”

“How? Gabe’s my husband and I want to have his baby.”

“Sperm banks are under intense scrutiny. A lot of people are unaccepting of the work they do. Not quite as bad as abortion clinics, but I imagine they have to be careful.”

“If he backed out, could you do it?”

“What, sperm retrieval? Me?” Judith raised her eyebrows. “Not a chance.”

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?” she challenged. “Gabe said you’re a remarkable doctor. You could do it if you wanted to.”

“I’m a heart surgeon, Jenny. I have no idea what that kind of procedure entails. I wouldn’t know what to do with the sperm once I had it. Not to mention the ethics of a doctor operating on her ex-husband to remove his sperm for future conception.

“It’d have to be a urologist or maybe even a fertility specialist. I don’t know. If I were you, I’d get it done as soon as possible. Harvest the sperm, send it to California and then worry about transferring it closer to home.”

Jenny turned to Amy. “Okay, let’s do that. Now what?”

“Are his children here?”

“They’re with him now.”

“Well, as soon as you sign the papers and all say good-bye, we’ll turn him over to the transplant team. They’ll collect his sperm and recover his organs, and it could be all over with by tonight.”

Amy was wrong; tonight wouldn’t be the end of this nightmare, it’d be the beginning.

“I’ll see you later this afternoon.” She dismissed the woman, stifling the urge to run back to Gabe’s bedside and hide. Strangely, even inert and unconscious, Gabe gave her a sense of comfort and feeling of security.

“Have you gotten hold of George yet?” Judith asked. “He wasn’t home when I called, so I left a message on his machine.”

“I left a message too.” Did he really have to know?

“You can’t do it without giving George a chance to say goodbye,” Judith admonished, as if reading her mind.

Jenny sighed. “I’ll try again.”

“How about your parents?”

“They don’t need to come. I’d rather tell them in person.”

“Have you made any arrangements?”

She slumped, suddenly weary of being pummeled by Judith’s questions. “Not yet.”

“I could help—if you want.”

Her eyes narrowed on Gabe’s ex-wife. “Why would you do that?”

“I want to help.” Judith wouldn’t hold her gaze and a red rash flushed her chest and her lower neck.

The ice lady embarrassed? She couldn’t be. “Why? Afraid I’ll screw it up?”

Judith’s eyebrows rose. “No, I’m not afraid you’ll screw it up. The funeral director pretty much guides you through it any way. I just thought it’d be something I could do for him. It would make Gabe happy, knowing I was helping you.”

“He’s dead,” she bluntly reminded in an effort to shock her nemesis and, in a perverse way, to prove her toughness. “You think he’ll know the difference?”

Tears glistened in Judith’s eyes, although her voice was firm. “He’ll know. His spirit lives on. Through Alex and Ted, and that little baby you’ll carry. He’ll always be with us.”

And that little baby you’ll carry
. She looked at Judith, curious. “So you think I’m doing the right thing?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Even the baby?”

“What baby?” As they talked, Alex left Gabe’s room and eased into her mother’s arms. Alex’s face lit with hope and a tentative smile softened her lips as she looked at Jenny. “You’re pregnant?”

“Not yet, sweetie.” Judith stroked her daughter’s hair. “They’re going to save Dad’s sperm so Jenny can be inseminated.”

“About time,” Alex said.

Judith patted her arm. “Check on your brother for me, will you?”

Jenny’s eyes widened. Alex wanted a baby brother or sister? “About time?”

Judith shrugged. “You’re young, Jenny. We’ve been expecting an announcement that you were pregnant.”

“But Gabe wasn’t—isn’t,” Jenny corrected, unwilling to declare him past while his body still lay warm mere yards away. “Gabe isn’t that young to be starting all over again.”

“He
wasn’t
that old,” Judith corrected, silently chiding Jenny to accept the inevitable. “Besides, he loved you. He loved kids. I expected that he’d want to have children with you.”

Her assumptions were a balm to Jenny’s soul. Of course Gabe would want her to have his baby.

George came home from fly-fishing totally beat. He threw his canvas duffel down and walked into the kitchen. Ignoring the blinking red light on his answering machine, he turned on the TV and snagged a cold root beer from the refrigerator. He sat at the counter, hoping to catch the score of the Tigers’ game on the noon news. If they beat the White Sox last night, they’d go on to the playoffs. He reached in a cupboard and opened a new bag of Fritos.

“And in the local news, a prominent Grosse Pointe surgeon and humanitarian, doctor Gabriel Harrison, is in critical condition at Saugatuck General Hospital.”

George’s head whipped up. Hand pausing half way to his mouth, he stared at the screen.

“While vacationing in Saugatuck, he and his wife were riding bicycles when Dr. Harrison was hit by a car.”

“What the hell?” George said.

Mrs. Harrison was treated for minor abrasions and released. The driver has been charged with reckless endangerment. And,” he paused for dramatic effect, “if Dr. Harrison dies, the driver could be charged with manslaughter—which carries a possible three- to five-year prison sentence in the state of Michigan. So our prayers go out to the Harrison family. Now onto…” The rest of the newscaster’s speech fuzzed over.

Fury burned in George’s chest. Why hadn’t they called? He grabbed his coat and hurried to his Saab. Numbness spread through his body as he imagined a car plowing into Gabe’s bike. He raced onto I-94 and accelerated to eighty miles an hour.

Gabe was critical? He couldn’t be dead or the driver would’ve been charged with manslaughter. He could be in a coma. Did Judith and the kids know? He picked up his cell phone, searched his recorded numbers, and then threw it back in the seat. He didn’t have her number with him. Alex and Ted’s numbers were programmed in, but if they didn’t know about their dad, he didn’t want to alarm them before he had any facts.

George pulled out and raced around a slower Toyota, giving the driver a dirty look as he flew by. “Damn tortoise.”

The burning in his gut prodded George to flatten the accelerator with complete disregard for the posted speed limit. Spoiling for a fight, he almost welcomed a vigilant police officer, then he eased off the pedal, realizing he didn’t want to waste time with a traffic cop. He couldn’t afford the time; Gabe may be dying.

It was late afternoon by the time George located the hospital and stormed the receptionist’s desk demanding information. He took a deep breath and stiffened his resolve when the volunteer confirmed that Gabe was in the ICU. Gabe would be all right. He’d be fine. The elderly volunteer cautioned George that he might not be able to visit his nephew because of their strict visitation policy, but her voice trailed off as she spoke to his retreating back.

George punched the round pewter disk and waited impatiently for the ICU doors to swing open. Entering Gabe’s quiet room, his glance slid past Alex, Ted, Judith, and Jenny to where Gabe lay peacefully sleeping. The tightness gripping George’s chest ever since he’d heard the news broadcast eased. Although a white tube protruded from his mouth connecting Gabe to some machine, numerous electrodes covered his chest, and an IV line ran in one arm, he didn’t look as banged up as George had feared.

Big black bruises ringed Gabe’s eyes, like a raccoon’s, and a few scrapes scabbed over on his arm, but his color was nice and pink. George let out the breath he’d been holding. All things considered, Gabe looked okay. And Judith was here. His shoulders relaxed. With her here, he was certain his nephew would receive the best care.

George moved into the room and hugged his great niece and nephew before turning to their mother. “Why didn’t you call? I had to find out about Gabe on the news.”

“The news?” Judith looked at Jenny.

He turned from Jenny to Judith. “Yeah. I got back from fishing, turned on the news, and they said some idiot creamed Gabe.”

“How’d the press find out?” Judith asked Jenny.

“I don’t know.” Then her frown eased. “It must have been Ken Stanley. He was here.” Jenny turned to him. “I had them call St. Francis’s chief of neuro for a consult. We called you,” she looked at Judith for confirmation, “and left messages. Several.”

“Didn’t you check your answering machine?” Judith asked.

“No. I left as soon as I heard.” Ignoring Jenny, he looked at Judith. “So how’s he doing? What’s the damage? Is he in a coma or what?”

Judith’s gaze slid from Jenny to her children. “Ted, why don’t you and Alex get a snack?”

Ted shifted uncomfortably. “Do you want us to bring you anything?”

“There’s no food allowed in ICU.” She looked to Jenny, “But you could eat in the hall.”

Jenny looked away, speaking softly. “No, thank you.”

Since when had Judith cared about feeding Jenny? George thought she had little use for the girl, barely tolerating her. Stress did strange things to people. The kids left, Alex sniffling and avoiding everybody’s gaze, and Ted guiding her with a hand on her shoulder. Poor guys. Did they really need to be here? What was the matter with Judith? Couldn’t she have waited until Gabe looked a little better before bringing the kids to see him?

He looked at Judith. “Now that you’ve gotten rid of the kids, how’s my boy?”

She looked at Jenny and some silent communication passed between them before Judith stood. “He’s gone, George. He suffered a severe intracranial injury. I talked with the specialist, but all the tests indicate that Gabe has no brain activity. The machine is maintaining his respiration.”

He frowned. “Wha’da ya mean, gone? Like dead? Look at him—he’s not that bad.” He gestured to Gabe. “He’s just in a coma or something. He’ll come out of it.”

Judith sadly shook her head. “That’s not going to happen. We’ve been waiting for you. We’ve kept him going so you could say good-bye.”

George sank into a nearby chair and stared at Gabe. “You’re kidding, right? This is some kind of a sick joke.” His gaze bounced between the two women, trying to find some scrap of hope in their expressions, but he only found abject misery. This was no joke. No mistake. He turned on Judith. “What’s the matter with you people? Fix him.”

“There’s nothing we can do, George.”

“Nothing?” The fight went out of him at the miserable shake of her head.

Jenny stood with her arms wrapped around her stomach.

“We need to say good-bye,” Judith said.

Tears filled his eyes as he stared at Gabe. Swallowing hard, he swiped an unsteady hand across his mouth. “When?”

“Now that you’re here, there’s no reason to prolong it.”

“Now?” He’d just gotten here and they wanted him to say good-bye and walk away?