Chapter One
“I don’t know whether I love or hate four in the morning,” Martin Beyer said as he sank into the chair behind the pediatric desk. The area was brightly lit, but the rest of the lighting in the department had been turned down. Rooms were dark, with only a low glow in the halls to help their young patients sleep.
“I know what you mean,” Lizzy said from the chair next to him as she went over the medication schedule. “I need to get down to the pharmacy to make sure everything is ready to go. Yesterday, they were late, and it was a zoo up here.” To her, anything that didn’t go along with her strict schedule was a complete disaster. She was one of those people who liked things as predictable as possible. Marty could understand that. Very little of what they did was in any way predictable, so having a routine and sticking to it made sure things were done properly without getting lost in the emergency of the moment.
“Go on,” Patrick Milner told her. “We have things under control here.” Patrick was the nurse in charge of pediatrics, and he was extremely capable, slightly demanding, but worthy of respect, and he always put their young patients first.
Marty logged into a terminal, and since it was quiet, got his records updated and all his notes made. Patrick set a steaming cup of coffee next to his computer. The stuff was the lifeblood of any hospital, but at this time of night, it was the nectar of the gods. Over the past four months, Marty had come to understand why some residents turned to stimulants to get them through the long hours on duty. If it was busy, then the activity and adrenaline took care of things. But at quiet times like this, fatigue stood right nearby, and everyone needed something to keep it at bay. Marty practically mainlined coffee and Diet Coke to keep going.
“Thanks,” he said softly, and gave Patrick a smile before finishing up. He stood to stretch his back, gazing down the hall in front of him to the shaft of light that cut across the darkened passage.
Patrick must have seen where his gaze went. “That’s Stephie Greene and her father, Dennis. She came back in two days ago, just after your last shift.” He sighed. “We thought the worst was behind them last summer….” Patrick let the rest hang in the air, like the bad news would spread if anyone talked about it.
Marty wandered down that way, needing to move after sitting. Not wanting to be a bother, but curious, he peered into the room. A man sat in the chair next to the bed, a little girl attached to an IV on his lap. He slowly rocked back and forth in the chair, humming softly. She had on a pink nightgown that peeked out from under the blanket Dennis had spread over both of them. The little girl was cute, with a light purple hat on her head.
The man seemed drawn, like he hadn’t slept in the past two days, but it was his voice and the way his attention centered solely on the child in his arms that tugged at Marty’s heart. Marty took a step closer. The man was singing softly, out of tune and with a roughness to his voice. But he sang anyway… to his daughter, who seemed asleep.
Marty backed away and returned to the desk. He got a cup of ice water and some juice, then returned to the shaft of light. After knocking softly on the door frame so he didn’t startle Dennis, he entered the room and set both cups close to him.
“Thank you,” Dennis whispered. “I think she’s asleep, but I can’t stop holding her.”
“It’s okay.” Marty understood and turned out the light.
Dennis sighed and sat back in the chair, continuing to cradle her. He gently got up and placed Stephie in bed, putting a much-squeezed stuffed dog next to her. She cuddled it as her dad covered her up. Then he picked up the cup of water and left the room. “Do you have any more news?” Dennis asked in a whisper once they were in the hallway.
“I’m sorry, no. I’m a resident here in pediatrics, and when I saw your light, it drew me down. I didn’t mean to disturb you and your daughter. There hasn’t been any additional information available since yesterday.” Marty always checked the records of the patients in his care. “The results of the tests they ran are still outstanding.”
“Sorry. I should have known that they wouldn’t be around at this hour,” he said gently, then grew quiet before yawning. He covered his mouth and blinked. “I’m Dennis, by the way, Dennis Greene, and the sick little one is my daughter, Stephie.”
“Martin Beyers,” he said, purposely leaving off the doctor title. At times like this, it seemed too pretentious to use. He smiled, and Dennis did the same. “You should get some rest while your daughter is sleeping. I can get you a blanket or a pillow to help make you more comfortable.”
Dennis was disheveled and probably hadn’t slept much at all since bringing in Stephie. His longish hair went in every direction. But his eyes were surprisingly bright, an intense shade of blue. His nose was a little big, but his lips were full and his cheekbones high and defined. The guy was handsome in that slightly imperfect way that gave him character and interest.
“Yeah, I probably should try to rest.” He returned to the room, and Marty got a blanket and pillow out of the linens supply area. He could have asked one of the nurses to take it to Dennis, but he did it himself. Dennis sat in the chair once more.
“The banquette pulls out slightly,” Marty whispered, silently making it about a foot wider. “Lie down and rest as best you can.” He set down the pillow and handed Dennis the blanket. Dennis lay down, and Marty spread the blanket over him before leaving the room. He guessed that Dennis was probably asleep before he made it to the hallway.
Marty’s shift continued all day, and he was run off his feet. Test results needed to be verified and then discussed with parents, who so often had been up with their child all night and were more exhausted than Marty. But he had to stay sharp and calm.
“Code blue, 212,” Marty heard, and was already down the hall to the room in question, grabbing the crash cart on the way, wheeling it down without thinking. Usually one of the nurses brought it, but Marty got there first.
Dr. Rory Milner, Patrick’s brother and an ER resident, was already there. He grabbed the defibrillator paddles as Marty powered it up. “Clear,” he called, and everyone got away as Rory shocked the patient. More orders were issued when the little boy’s heart didn’t return to a normal rhythm. “Clear,” Rory called again, applying the paddles. The little body shook, and this time the treatment took, and his heart began beating once more. Marty took the paddles and left them in a ready position as Rory checked the little boy over.
The parents held each other just outside the room as the heart monitor beeped a close to normal rhythm. Rory issued orders that the nurses hurriedly carried out, giving the boy oxygen and getting him settled once more in the bed.
“Is he going to be okay now?” the mother asked Rory.
“We’ll have to see,” he answered as noncommittally as possible. That was the part of the job that sucked, telling parents that they didn’t know if their child was going to make it or not. “The physician in charge has been notified, and everyone is going to keep a close eye on Timmy. It’s all we can do for now.” That and hope like hell that he didn’t crash again.
Marty returned the equipment to its location next the desk and made sure it was cleaned and ready for use again. The nurses usually did that sort of thing, but they were busy at the moment.