My Sweetest Sasha: Cole's Story (Meadows Shore Book 2) (8 page)

* * *

Alexa arrived early, but Cole wasn’t in the office. From the look of things, he’d already come and gone. She went to the surgical unit for rounds, stood in the spot where they started every day and waited until a resident appeared and told her rounds were cancelled. She went back to the office until Sherrie arrived.

“Do you know where Cole is?” she asked Sherrie.

“One of our surgeons was admitted to the ICU last night—an overdose—and it’s touch and go. Cole’s with him.”

“Who?”

“Christian McKenna.”

The room began to spin. Alexa clamped her eyes tight while the blood rushed from her head. She clung to the counter for support.

“Are you okay?” asked Sherrie reaching for her arm.

“I just need a minute.”

After the room stilled, she found herself wandering toward the ICU, where she found Cole sitting with Clarisse by Christian’s bed. She didn’t go in the room. Instead, she peered through the glass from a safe distance. On some level it sickened her to watch Cole and Clarisse together at Christian’s bedside, and on another, she couldn’t begin to imagine what they were going through.

She disappeared for the rest of the day—
shadowing be damned.
She read in the library, prayed in the chapel, and walked the halls aimlessly, accomplishing nothing. Her pager never went off, not once. Just before eleven, she went back to Cole’s office to collect her things so she could go home before the buses stopped for the night.

There were many routes to the office, but she walked through the ICU, where Cole sat cradling his friend’s hand in his. Alexa knew she should keep walking, but she was drawn to Christian’s room. Drawn to Cole, who looked beaten with dark circles rimming his washed-out eyes.

She wasn’t sure he’d acknowledge her, but she’d try. “Hey,” she said softly, entering the small space dwarfed by the menacing equipment keeping Christian alive.

He swallowed hard. “Hi.”

“How’s he doing?”

“He’s a fighter.”

She rested her hand on Cole’s shoulder. “How are you doing?”

Without letting much time lapse, he reached up with his free hand and threaded his fingers through hers, leaning his head to one side so that their entwined hands were pressed into the crook of his neck.

“Do you need anything before I leave the hospital?” she asked.

He didn’t answer her, but he spoke to his friend. “Christian, it’s been nice holding your hand buddy, but I’ve got a hot social worker here who’s got softer hands. I’m going to hang out with her for a little while. You know the drill. I’ll be back soon. The nurses know where to find me if you need something.” His words were light and playful, but his voice was heavy and forced.

Cole stopped at the nurses’ station. “I’m going outside for a few minutes. Anything changes, no matter how small, page me.”

He still hadn’t met her eyes. “Come sit outside with me for a little while. I feel like I’m suffocating. I need to breathe some real air.”

They walked out behind the ICU to a small garden with a bubbling fountain and bright red geraniums planted to attract hummingbirds and butterflies. The striking flowers were lined up in neat rows along the freshly edged perimeter. It was a hot, sticky night, but a breeze appeared from nowhere, coaxing a rhumba from the wind chimes dangling from the cherry tree. They sat thigh to thigh on a sturdy wrought-iron bench, both wound so tight that the serenity of the garden seemed almost surreal.

“He’s in there because of me. I fucked up.”

“Cole, people become distraught when a spouse cheats, but they don’t normally overdose unless there’s something organic happening,” she said gently, hoping to reassure him.

He lifted his hands and rubbed circles over his weary eyes. “Clarisse didn’t cheat on him with me or with anyone else … She came to see me because he hadn’t been acting like himself. We’ve been close friends for almost twelve years—the three of us.”

She flinched and hung her head. Her ears pounded. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe … I’m so sorry for accusing you, her … I don’t know what to say. I told Chet. I can make that part right.” She rambled, tripping over her words, erratically forcing air into her lungs.

“You believed what I wanted you to believe … although it wasn’t much of a stretch for you, was it?”

His tone wasn’t harsh, but she could hear the hurt in his voice. “I’m sorry.” It sounded so trite to her ears.

“Me too. I should’ve gone to Tom right away, to someone who had more experience with this kind of thing, but I was trying to protect Christian. After he moved out, he began to unravel at work. We made a deal, I’d take him off the surgical schedule, and he’d get some help. When I was comfortable that he’d turned things around, he could go back to the OR. I was in his face every day, trying to help. But he kept pushing me away, acting like this was my problem, not his. Being off the schedule just gave him more time to think, more time to pop pills, shoot up, and booze.”

“You had to take him off.”

“I know. But I should’ve been more open about what was happening. Hell, if I’d talked to you—you would’ve pointed me in the right direction and he wouldn’t be in there now.”

“I hope you don’t really believe that. I don’t have a magic wand.”

“No, but you listen and pay attention to the small stuff. The important stuff.”

“You waved an incentive in front of him, something he desperately wanted, something he could have if he got help. You offered him support. You didn’t just cut him off and send him home—but no one would have blamed you if you had.”

“Not enough. Not nearly enough.”

They sat in silence for a little while, a familiar comfortable silence, vastly different from the frozen tundra of the past week.

“Why did you let me think you had something going on with Clarisse? You encouraged me to believe it.”

“I was trying to protect him. Protect his reputation. Protect their family.”

He blew out a loud whoosh. “I don’t normally care what anyone thinks, but I’ll admit, it bothered me that you thought so little of me. Believed that I’d have sex with a married woman, my friend’s wife. The wife of someone who worked for me. I know I encouraged you to believe it, but it still ate at me every day.”

“Once I knew who she was, I’m not sure I really believed you had sex with her—at least I didn’t want to believe it. It just didn’t seem like something you’d do. But I went to Chet with the information, and made a bigger mess. At the time, I didn’t see any other option.” She absent-mindedly toyed with the fabric of her shirt, rubbing the satiny edge between her fingers, like a child seeking comfort from a favorite blanket.

“While you were protecting his reputation, didn’t you care about the damage it caused yours?”

“When my parents died, Christian was there for me. Nothing was too big for him to take on. He kept an eye on me, told me when I needed to keep my ass away from patients, and pushed me when it was safe to jump back in. He’s family. They’re family. He loved those kids, loved her with everything he had.
Fuck!
How did this happen?” Cole ran both hands over his head and down his face.

He finally met her eyes. “You didn’t know him, but he was just like me, Alexa. Just like me. Frick and Frack, that’s what Sue Miller called us when we were residents. Then one day he snapped, and things didn’t fall back into place. Instead, his life collapsed around him piece by piece, until there was nothing left. Being taken off the surgical schedule was the last straw. I should’ve known it.”

“Cole, there’s no one just like you. They broke the mold after they made you. One and done.”

She squeezed his arm. “It’s easy to know when the body’s had enough. People run fevers, vomit, even have heart attacks. But it’s so much tougher to tell when the brain’s had enough. You supported your friend and his family in the best way you believed possible. I don’t think anyone would have advised you differently, certainly not me. But if you’d shared the burden, your heart wouldn’t have been so heavy.”

“I knew you’d say something like that, something logical, something kind that would make me feel better. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t talk to you—I didn’t want to feel better … and I needed someone to be angry with. Someone other than Christian. Someone other than myself.”

He reached for hand. “I’m sorry for taking it out on you. If it makes you feel any better, I hated every day that I didn’t talk to you, every second of silence. It screamed at me like a banshee, made me want to jump out of my skin.”

“I hated it too,” she said giving him the faintest of smiles. “How’s Clarisse holding up?”

“She’s strong. She’ll stand tall for those kids. But I don’t think she really has anyone to talk to about everything that’s happened. I know there are things she’s not saying. She’s close to her family, but until today, she hasn’t talked to them about Christian. It’s been tough on her, and it’s been going on for almost year.”

A sharp pang of guilt cut across her chest, cozying up with the shame already there.

Cole gripped her hand tighter, as though he could sense her feelings, and his thumb grazed her knuckles, one at a time. “Maybe you can stop by one day when she’s visiting Christian. Talk to her. She blames herself for kicking him out. Feels like it escalated his downward spiral.”

“I’ll reach out to her. What about you, do you blame her?”

“Of course not. She didn’t have a choice. She tried for a long time to help him, but he pushed her away. In the end it was so bad their kids were terrified of him. They’ve been through hell, all of them.”

“It sounds like until the last week or so no one saw that side of him here.”

“No, we got the best of him, the hospital and his patients got the gifted surgeon,” he spat. “He saved all the shit for his wife and kids. They bore the brunt of his brilliant career.”

Cole slapped the bench so hard she was sure his hand would smart for hours. “I’m pissed, Alexa. I’m pissed I didn’t see it. I’m pissed he didn’t come to me.”

“I know you are. But don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, but it was unconvincing. It would be a long time before he let this go.

“Do you think he’ll make it?”

“It’ll take a miracle.”

He let go of her hand. “There’s going to be a load of crap dumped on Clarisse in the next week. They’re going to want to withdraw life support, which will mean going before the Medical Ethics Board, and maybe even a judge. And if he doesn’t die within a few days of that, he’ll be transferred to hospice, where he’ll linger indefinitely. He’s young and healthy … he can survive like that for a long time. It’s going to be a nightmare.”

She planted her hand firmly on his leg. “My shoulders aren’t as broad as yours, but they’re strong. I’m here if you need me.”

He draped his arm across the bench behind her, letting his fingers linger on her upper arm, and buried his face in her hair. “I know,” he whispered. “I know.

* * *

Christian was moved to hospice, and Cole moved forward with his life, but his friend was never far from his thoughts. He visited him at least twice a day, and checked on Clarisse and the kids regularly.

Alexa was his lifeline. Merely laying eyes on her grounded him, soothed him in a way that was impossible to describe. He picked her up every morning, and dropped her off after work. They spent every minute of every day together—their work demanded it.

She made the trek back and forth with him, across the medical campus, to hospice every time he went. Some days they talked while they walked, other days she moved quietly beside him, leaving him with his thoughts. Sometimes she went to Christian’s room with him, and other times she waited in the visitors’ lounge. She always seemed to know exactly what he needed.

He’d said good-bye to Christian on that very first night in the ICU. Now there was nothing left to say, nothing left to do, nothing but wait. He hated waiting, but thinking about the alternative was unbearable, sometimes pushing him to the outer edge of sanity. The doctor in him understood the physiology of death, but the man couldn’t make peace with it.

Alexa entered the surgical observation area one afternoon while an older attending was conducting teaching rounds. She listened while he described Cole’s surgical technique. “Not many surgeons can perform that operation, not like that anyway. If you ever find yourself in the unfortunate position of needing a Whipple procedure, he’s the guy you want, the Boy Wonder.”

She pictured Cole’s muscular body in tights and a mask—a giggle-worthy image.

After the group left, she sat in the observation area with her laptop. The surgery was taking longer than expected, never a good sign. Her heart clenched as she fretted over the outcome—concerned for the patient, and for everyone in the room trying to save his life. She worried especially about Cole, who had been coping with more than his fair share.

Hoping to take her mind off the operating room, she went back to her computer, and pulled up the report she worked on daily. It was too important, too unwieldy to piece together at the end. Over time, while she’d transcribed interviews, synthesized documents, and memorialized her observations, Cole Harrington, the physician, the man, who had once been nothing more than a blurry image, came into focus.

Watching him navigate through his friend’s crisis offered the clearest picture of the person he really was. And much to her dismay, she found herself attracted—intensely attracted—to him. She hadn’t seen it coming. It had sneaked up on her when she wasn’t paying attention, but there was no denying it.

While she banged on the keyboard, hell-bent on keeping her personal feelings out of the work, pure euphoria began blasting from the speakers in the operating room. The instrumentals from The Who’s
Baba O’Riley
electrified her skin. She’d been around long enough now to know what it meant—a tough procedure, a close call, but they were over the hump, nearly home free.

She couldn’t stop smiling while she watched the transformation in the operating room, and for the first time ever, she caught Cole’s eye through the glass. He was nodding to the powerful pulse of the music, a cocky smile on his beautiful face. The mood in the OR was light, and she allowed herself to revel in their moment, to enjoy the throbbing music as it reached a crescendo, to bask in Cole’s laser focus as he finished.

There were times when there was no music, when grief and hopelessness were the only sound in the room. When nothing, nothing could lift their spirits. It made her wonder what kind of man stared down death every day, knowing his actions would tip the balance for another human being. She shuddered, thinking of Christian who’d been destroyed by the unrelenting pressure.

But Cole was different, wasn’t he? Stronger. Tougher. He wholeheartedly embraced the responsibility—he relished it. Everything about it, the good and the bad, taking every single thing as it came. The only thing he refused to accept was mediocrity, not in others, and certainly not in himself.

He did nothing in half measure, dedicating himself fully to whatever was lucky enough to capture his attention. And when he gave his heart, he surrendered it completely. She saw it in the way he loved his family and friends.

Yes, sometimes she hated his words, his attitude, his unyielding nature, but something about him beckoned, pulled her away from the calm predictability that characterized her life to the wild irreverence that characterized his. The pull was fierce, unrelenting, slashing through the layers of practical sensibility she’d painstakingly stacked in place.

And when she saw him standing there now, the music pounding, she wanted nothing more than to run to him, share in his joy, kiss the cocky look off his gorgeous face, kiss him so hard it’d make his lips sting.

Two weeks left of the assignment, just two more weeks … and her life would be quiet and predictable again. She’d go back to taking the bus to work, back to eating dinner alone every night, back to a life without him. The thought plunged into her heart, a razor-sharp spear, wounding her beyond belief.

* * *

Alexa had just a few more people to talk to before completing the report. She’d saved the toughest interviews for last. Sue Miller topped the list of challenging prospects, and she dreaded meeting with her. Sue was highly protective of everyone under her purview, and she had a soft spot for Cole.

She carefully approached Sue outside the operating suite one afternoon near the end of her shift.

“Hello, I’m Alexa Petersen. I work in Risk Management, and I was hoping you’d have some time in the next few days to talk to me.” She half hoped Sue would refuse to meet with her.

“I know who you are. I was wondering when you were going to come see me. Most people would’ve come to me first.” She glared at Alexa like a teacher chastising a naughty child for speaking out of turn. Alexa had been the recipient of that look many times, but this time she didn’t cower.

“I’ll be in my office in an hour. Plan to stay a while. I have a lot to say.” And without another word, Alexa was dismissed.

She wasn’t sure what annoyed Sue most, that she hadn’t gone to her first, or that she dared question the golden boy’s behavior. Either way, she’d misplayed this, and now there’d be consequences.

* * *

An hour later she knocked on Sue’s door.

“Come in.”

“Thanks for seeing me. I have a few questions about Dr. Harrington,” she said taking a seat. “Routine questions.”

“There’s nothing routine about this. So let’s just put aside the bullshit and get right to it.”

This was, of course, why it had taken her so long to talk to Sue. The woman was intimidating. She’d witnessed the petite nurse bring more than one surgeon to his knees with nothing more than a withering look.

“Can you tell me about the incident in the operating room when the thermostat was disabled?”

Sue nodded. “I was there when it happened. The room was hot—damn hot. Had been for at least a week. It had become nearly impossible to work in there. I complained to facilities—everyone complained. Every day the situation became worse, more dangerous. But they kept putting us off.”

“Why wasn’t the room closed?”

“We closed it when we could. But there was a multi-car accident on 95 with a lot of serious injuries. We needed the room. Cole showed up first, and he could have taken any room, but he took that one. That alone should tell you everything you need to know about his leadership.” Sue pulled her lips over her teeth, creating a tight, thin line across her face.

“We kept patients’ body temperature down with ice packs, but as the day wore on, we became more and more concerned that someone on the team might become lightheaded during a procedure, or worse. Then it happened. A pregnant nurse, five months along, fainted in the middle of a surgery. No one even knew she was pregnant until she came to, and grabbed her belly asking if the baby was okay.” Sue shook her head.

“Cole lifted her off the floor and carried her to the maternity ward. Then he came back, scrubbed in, and finished closing. When he was done, he grabbed a hammer off the tray and smashed the thermostat to smithereens. By the time we arrived the next day it was fixed. A few people vilified him, but he was a hero to every person down here.”

“This is the first time I’ve heard the whole story. Dr. Harrington never mentioned the part about the nurse fainting.”

“He wants Tori kept out of this. She’s a hell of a scrub nurse, and she needs the job. But I don’t take orders from Cole,” she huffed. “So now you know what happened.”

“Thank you for your time,” Alexa said getting up from the chair.

“We’re not done, yet. I have plenty more to say. I’ve been here for more than thirty years. Tom Hagel put me in charge when he became chair twenty years ago, and I’ve seen it all.”

Sue gave Alexa an education in hospital politics, surgeons, and Cole Harrington. She explained what it was like to work in an environment where life and death hung in the balance every day. Where anything could go wrong and often did. And how important it was to have someone leading the team who could get the cart back on the horse and pull everyone on track without batting an eyelash.

“Don’t let anyone kid you, I don’t care if you’re a man or a woman, it takes big balls to cut through someone’s skin and stick your hands in their body, especially when you don’t know what you’re going to find in there. You’re too concerned about the arrogant surgeon, when it’s the one who hesitates, questions himself, that you need to be afraid of. Those are the ones who scare me to death.” She paused, letting her words sink in.

“Humanity, with all its frailties, is never more fully on display than it is down here. Stripped naked, skin so translucent you can peer into its soul. It’s not always pretty. What you see on television and in the movies, that has nothing, nothing to do with what goes on here.

“The reality is lying a block away, brain dead, while his two little ones and his beautiful wife are left to cope with the aftermath. Their lives forever changed. Divorce, drug abuse, suicide, neglected children, self-loathing, and loneliness, that’s the glitzy reality of a trauma surgeon’s life. Remember that while you sit in judgment.”

Alexa swallowed hard. Sue had provided an overview, context that was invaluable.

“Thank you for sharing this with me. You’re right, I should’ve come to you first.”

Sue studied her intently. “I hope it’s useful down the road. Have you talked to Tom yet?”

“No, but he’s next on my list.”

“Ask to see his file on Cole.”

She cocked her head.

“Just ask him.”

Alexa started toward the door and turned to Sue. “I’m not trying to make trouble for Dr. Harrington.”

“I know. I told you, I’ve been around for a long time, and I have a good sense of people.” She hesitated for a moment. “Go easy on him.”

“I’ll be fair. There’s nothing, so far, that could conceivably put his job in jeopardy.”

“I’m not worried about his job.”

* * *

Next up was Tom Hagel, another big fan of Cole’s. He’d been a talented trauma surgeon back in the day, and he made no apologies for his protégée. Alexa wasn’t sure he believed an apology needed to be made by anyone, including Cole. She also suspected Tom had smashed more than a few thermostats in his career, too.

“Sue Miller told me to ask for your file on Dr. Harrington.”

“Did she? Damn woman can’t stay out of my business,” he muttered. “Thinks I’m a doddering old fool who would forget to give it to you. Apparently reminding me three times this morning wasn’t enough.” His lips quirked while he griped.

Tom unlocked a file cabinet, and pulled out a folder at least ten times the size of the one Chet had given her.

Her eyes nearly fell out of her head, while her heart sank. She’d come so far, and didn’t want any bad news now, but from the look of the …

“You can’t leave the suite with the file, but you can sit in the small conference room and read to your heart’s content. Give it back to Kim when you’re finished.”

She sat at the conference table and pulled out her laptop to take notes, dreading every word she’d be required to write. But what she found wasn’t at all what she’d been expecting.

The file was chock full of letters of gratitude from patients, families, and staff, commendations, and awards.
Of course it was!
She chastised herself for expecting anything less. Sure, there was some documented problem behavior, but it paled in comparison to the praise. Cole Harrington was irreverent, arrogant, and a piece of work extraordinaire, but the hospital and his patients were lucky to have him. Damn lucky.