Dedicated to the One I Love, page 18
Kylie had avoided doctors … and hospitals … all things medical after Andrew died. She hadn’t even had a routine checkup. And yet, here she was. She hadn’t hesitated to walk through the automatic sliding glass doors with Joe, his arm slung over her shoulders.
Quick update on Joe: He needs surgery to remove a piece of wood from his leg. He’s also lost a lot of blood. Waiting on the trauma surgeon. Thanks for praying.
Kylie sent the group text to Dylan, Leah, and Zoe. Still no sign of the tech or a nurse telling them they could come back. Did anyone else need to know about Joe?
His agent.
But she didn’t know Liza’s phone number.
She’d had Joe’s phone in her purse. Had he given it back to her? Yes. But the screen was locked.
What now?
Kylie tapped her fingernails against the screen. It wasn’t late on the East Coast. She’d have to communicate with Liza the roundabout way.
Shannon: I need you to please contact Joe Edwards’s agent, Liza, for me. He had an accident earlier today at my house. Injured his leg. He’s having surgery as soon as they can arrange it. We are at the hospital now, waiting for the surgeon. Have Liza call me if she has any questions. Kylie
Within minutes, Shannon texted her back.
What happened? You’re supposed to be writing, not hanging out at the hospital. Did your cat attack him or something? Calling Liza now. Keep me in the loop. Love you.
Kylie couldn’t hold back a smile from curving her lips. She loved her agent. Shannon was always there for her, in the craziest, most unexpected moments of her life. Did agents know this kind of stuff was part of being a literary agent when they decided they wanted to represent authors for a living?
Abbie returned as Kylie sent off a thank-you text. Waved, then pantomimed drinking water and turned toward the hallway leading to the cafeteria.
More waiting.
At last, the tech appeared, motioned her to follow him.
“How’s he doing?”
“Great. The trauma doc came while I was finishing up, which is why it took a little longer.”
“Will he be going to surgery soon?”
“They still need to set up the OR and get the team in, so it’ll be a while longer. But now that he’s signed his consent form, they gave him pain meds in his IV. Mr. Edwards is nice and relaxed now.”
“I’m so happy to hear that.” Kylie paused before she stepped into the room to text Abbie that she was with Joe again.
Joe’s eyes were closed. The lines that had bracketed his mouth and furrowed between his eyes had relaxed and he no longer gripped the thin hospital blanket between his fingers. For the first time since she’d heard the loud thud and Joe’s initial grunt of pain, the tightness in Kylie’s jaw and neck eased.
She sat on the edge of the chair beside the bed. Stayed silent. If he was resting, let him rest. A few moments ticked past, the monitors at the head of his bed beeping … Then Joe shifted, turned his head. Opened his eyes and offered her a slow smile.
“Hey. You’re back.” His voice was achingly subdued.
“I am. I didn’t want to wake you.” She feathered her fingertips over his hand with the IV. “I hope that’s not too painful.”
“Nah. I got the kid talking about books.” Joe licked his lips. “Do you know he’d never heard of Tate Merrick?”
“You’re kidding me!”
“Right? I’m sittin’ here, lettin’ him poke needles in my arm … and he hasn’t read any of my books.”
“The audacity.”
“Knew you’d understand.” Joe chuckled. “Didja hear the surgeon showed?”
“I don’t think he planned to skip out on you.”
“Wants to get paid.”
“Abbie called Tucker and your parents.”
“My parents … ” Joe rubbed his free hand against his chest as his words trailed off.
“They’ll want to know. And I realized even though I’ve had your phone all day, I can’t get into it. So I texted Shannon, my agent, to contact your agent about all of this. Figured she’d want to know too.”
“Thanks.” He muttered a few numbers.
“What’s that?”
“Passcode … so you can get into my phone.” He repeated the numbers. “Part of my old lock code for my high school locker.”
“You still remember that?”
“You don’t remember yours?”
It was almost as prosaic as Joe Fox in You’ve Got Mail using his apartment number for his Yahoo email address.
Joe had wrapped one finger around hers, keeping the connection between them. With the IV meds on board, he probably wasn’t even aware—but Kylie was.
His eyes drifted closed again. A few moments later, when Abbie stepped into the room, Kylie shook her head and nodded toward Joe. Abbie’s eyebrows lifted and then she mouthed a silent “Okay.”
Kylie slipped her hand away from Joe’s, praying he’d stay asleep, and moved to the end of the bed. “He’s pretty worn out.”
“I can imagine.” Abbie handed her a bottle of water. “I talked with Tucker, who’s on his way. Asked him to pick up some food for us. I figure we’re in for the long haul. Hudson will come after work.”
“Thanks, Abbie.”
“I also talked to our parents. They want to fly up, but I told them to hold off until we see what happens after surgery. I promised Mom that I would call her when Joe’s in recovery, no matter how late it was tonight.”
“I’m sure they’re concerned.” Kylie took a sip of water, and then gulped half the bottle. “I didn’t realize how thirsty I was.”
“Worry takes a toll on the body.”
“Yeah. I texted my agent. Asked her to call Joe’s agent and tell her what happened. I have Joe’s phone—” She pulled it from her purse. “Here, you probably should take it.”
“No, thank you. I do not want that responsibility. He gave it to you. Keep it.”
“Fine. He just told me his passcode. If—when—Liza calls, I’ll talk to her. For now, I guess we just wait.”
“I’ve never been great at waiting.”
“Me either. How are you at praying?”
“A little better.” Abbie nodded toward Joe. “I know it makes a difference.”
“How about we pray before he goes to surgery?”
“Good idea.”
Kylie put her arm around Abbie’s waist, and Joe’s sister leaned in closer as Kylie rested one hand on Joe’s bed. Closed her eyes and leaned into the sweet comfort of prayer, allowing it to wash away the pressure of the day better than the cold water had washed away her thirst.
Everything seemed to still around them.
She should have prayed sooner. No, this wasn’t about praying sooner. Or later. This was about now. And how prayer opened a corner of hope in this ER.
CHAPTER 17
Kylie was failing.
She’d been sitting in an exam room with Joe for fifteen minutes, determined to distract him from the not-unexpected reality the doctor was running late for his follow-up appointment five days after Joe’s surgery. Every time she’d tried to talk to him, their conversation trailed off into silence, just like it had on their drive from his house. He’d left the Pepsi and bagel she’d brought him in her car.
Before that, Joe had stared at the news on the TV positioned in one corner of the waiting room. She’d made certain they’d arrived early at the surgeon’s office, and then they weren’t shown back to the exam room until a good half hour past the scheduled time for his appointment.
Now he seemed content to gaze at the abstract painting on the opposite wall. Kylie debated if the morass of golds, blacks, and reds would be better hung upside down.
Time to try again with Joe.
“Did you know that the first pair of crutches weren’t invented until—”
“Until 1917 by some woman, whose name I don’t remember.” Joe glanced away from the painting for a moment.
“Wow. I thought I might stump you on that one.”
“I looked it up this weekend.”
She hesitated to ask the next question, but it forced its way out. “You feeling okay?”
“Sorry I’m lousy company this morning. I haven’t slept great the last few nights. And I hate having to use crutches.” He sighed and leaned his head against the exam room wall behind his chair. “Again, I’m sorry. I’m a terrible patient.”
“It’s okay, Joe.” Kylie rested her hand on his arm. “I understand.”
“I just want to be told I can toss these crutches and get back to normal again.”
“That’s what we’re all hoping.”
He turned his head and offered her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks for bringing me today.”
“Happy to. If you’re up to it, we can grab an early lunch when we’re done here.”
“That would be fun. How about some medical trivia while we wait? Did you know one-fourth of all your bones are in your feet?”
“More than half our bones are in our hands and feet. Cat trivia—did you know cats walk like giraffes and camels?”
“What?”
“They move both their right feet first when they walk. Then they move both their left feet.”
Joe reached down and scratched around his bandage. “I’m trying to visualize this. Now I’m going to have to watch Remington walk.”
“Believe me, the first time I read this, I videoed Remington walking. I’ll try to find one of my old videos for you.”
Talking about how cats walk was pure silliness, but if it distracted Joe, it was worth it. The poor guy’s jaw was covered with a scruffy growth of whiskers, and he had dark circles under his eyes, their normal blue washed out like the color of the sky over Pikes Peak before a snowstorm.
Maybe they could eat lunch at her house. Let him see Remington. Or would that be like returning to the scene of the crime?
The physician’s assistant entered a few moments later. Shook Joe’s hand as she introduced herself and explained she’d do the preliminary exam before the surgeon came in.
“Joe, you can sit on the exam table.” The woman’s actions were concise. Professional. “Is this your wife?”
Kylie refused to look at Joe. “No, no. I’m his friend and today I’m the chauffeur.”
“Ah.” She extended the end of the table and then retrieved some scissors and began cutting away the bandage. “I’m going to examine the wound and then rebandage it.”
“Would you like me to leave?”
“That’s up to Mr. Edwards. I’m fine with you being here.”
“You can stay, Kylie.”
“Okay.” She settled back in her chair, gripping the padded arms.
With quiet precision, the PA removed the tape and gauze covering Joe’s wound. “I was in the operating room with Dr. Petroni when he removed the piece of wood from your leg.”
“I’m glad I was asleep for that.”
“Yes, that was an impressive injury. From a fall through a deck, right?”
“My deck.” Kylie couldn’t hold back the admission.
“An accident, Kylie.” Joe’s gaze connected with hers.
“How have you been feeling?” The PA went to the computer situated at a small desk in the corner of the room.
Joe shrugged. “I’ve been a little achy this morning. Had a few chills through the night. Not a big deal.”
“You’re running a low-grade temp, according to the vitals the medical assistant took.”
“I am?”
“Let me go ask the doctor to come in and see you. I’ll be right back.”
This appointment was not going according to plan. At all. A deep wound … surgery … and now a fever, even a low fever, were lining up to send this day swirling out of control. Beneath the slight beard, Kylie could tell Joe was clenching his jaw.
Everything would be fine. But she couldn’t tell him that. Only Dr. Petroni could.
Kylie stood next to Joe and slipped her hand over his, where it lay on top of the thin sheet of white paper on the exam table. “How are you?”
“I’ll guess we’ll find out, huh?”
“Maybe they’ll need to switch your antibiotics.”
“Maybe.”
“The doctor’s office will call in a prescription if you need one. Do you want to get something to eat while we wait? I asked that already, didn’t I?”
“You’ve got stuff to do today, Kylie.”
“I cleared my schedule for you.” She tried to coax a smile out of him. “We can eat out or we can go to my house, and I’ll make sandwiches. Nothing fancy, but Remington would be happy to show off his camel walk for you.”
He laughed and laced their fingers together as the door opened and both the physician’s assistant and the surgeon entered the exam room.
“Good morning, Mr. Edwards.”
“Nice to see you again, Dr. Petroni.”
Kylie squeezed Joe’s hand, then retreated to her chair.
“Let’s see how that leg of yours looks, shall we?”
The antiseptic odor of the room seemed to sharpen as the moments lengthened. Joe’s eyes closed, and he pressed his lips together, but Kylie could tell by the way he gripped the table with both hands that the doctor’s thorough exam was painful. She was close, but not close enough to offer him any comfort. The PA blocked her view of Joe’s leg, which was probably for the best.
Joe had been a good patient. Tucker and Abbie had made certain of that, taking turns staying with him, ensuring he took his meds around the clock.
Dr. Petroni stepped back, stripped off the vinyl gloves and tossed them in the tall waste basket. “This wound isn’t looking as good as I expected. And the fever is concerning. You shouldn’t have one at this point.”
Joe shrugged. “It’s not much of a fever, right?”
“Any fever following surgery is worrisome. We need to get a better look at this. See if we missed a fragment. I’ll set up an MRI.”
“And then what?”
“If the MRI reveals we missed something, we’ll have to go back in and remove it. The infection won’t resolve—or it could get worse if we don’t.”
Kylie spoke before Joe. “You’re talking a second surgery?”
“I’m not making any decisions until we see the MRI.”
“How soon can we get that?”
Kylie could only imagine how much Joe would dread that, dread any additional waiting.
“I’ll have my staff make some calls right now and we’ll let you know in the next few minutes. My PA will go ahead and rebandage your leg while we wait. And I’ll call and reserve an operating room—just in case.”
Just in case.
“What kind of view will I have in that room?” As always, Joe attempted to bring some humor to the situation.
“The ceiling. But you won’t care about it for long.”
“If I have to keep that reservation.”
“Exactly.” And with that, Dr. Petroni exited the room.
The atmosphere around them was like it had been in the ER a few days earlier, but heavier. Joe’s shoulders were slumped as the PA worked on his leg again.
How many times had Kylie wished she could push rewind, all the way back to Wednesday, before Joe volunteered to look at all the odds and ends in the corner of her deck. But she couldn’t. So instead, she prayed.
The simplest of prayers. Dear Jesus, have mercy on Joe.
…
Kylie couldn’t believe she was back in the hospital again. Of course, she was once again waiting. Joe hadn’t been able to cancel that reservation in the OR. His humor had failed him, and he’d managed only a quiet “See you when I’m done” after she gave him an awkward hug before they’d wheeled him to the operating room.
She’d promised him that Abbie was on the way, and he’d offered a quick thumbs-up.
Dr. Petroni had said Joe’s surgery would be no more than an hour, allowing him to remove the hidden piece of wood revealed on the MRI and irrigate the wound, put in some drains, and redress it. Abbie had arrived with an iced tea for Kylie and a caramel macchiato for herself. They’d waited together once again for the nurse to come back to let them know Joe was in recovery. Spent too much time scrolling through Instagram reels.
“Ms. Franklin?” A nurse in scrubs stood just inside the surgery doors.
“Yes?”
“You can come back and see Mr. Edwards now. He’s been asking for you.”
Kylie rose. Took two steps and stopped. “Abbie, do you want to go?”
“You go ahead. You heard the nurse, he asked for you, not me. Do me a favor and text me a photo and I’ll send it to our mom, okay?”
“You’re sure?”
“Go. Don’t keep my poor brother waiting.”
As they walked down the hallway, the nurse glanced at her again. “You’re Veronica Hollins, aren’t you?”
“Yes … ”
“One of the other nurses guessed it. There’s been quite a buzz on the floor about two well-known authors—one in surgery, one in the waiting room.”
“I hope people keep it quiet.”
“We’re trained to respect our patients’ privacy, and that’s extended to you, too, Miss Hollins. No one will ask for autographs or post anything to social media.”
“Kylie. Call me Kylie, please. Veronica is my pen name.”
“I’m Sybil. I’m on all night. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thank you.”
As much as she didn’t want to be here, the hospital cocooned her. Joe was being well cared for. Protected. The lights in Joe’s section of the recovery area were dimmed, and the lines on his face were relaxed. Anesthesia was one way to get some good sleep.
Kylie eased a chair close to the side of his bed. She’d stay quiet. Let Joe sleep for as long as he needed.
