once Hannah moved to his side. She gathered the boy into her arms and held him, rocked him. He was fighting not to cry, his fists clenched, his face buried in her hair. "It's OK," murmured Hannah. "Baby, you just go ahead and cry. I'm right here with you. I'm going to stay right here, Josh. As long as you need me. It's OK." Hannah's gaze met Abby's over the boy's shoulder. The tears on the nurse's face weren't Josh's, but her own.
In silence, Abby and Vivian left the room.
At the MICU nurses' station, Abby watched as Vivian signed in duplicate the order for the lymphocyte crossmatch between Josh O"Day's and Karen Terrio's blood.
"How soon can he go to surgery?" asked Abby.
"We could be scrubbed and ready to cut by tomorrow morning. The sooner the better. The kid's had three episodes of V. tach in just the last day. With a heart rhythm that unstable, he doesn't have much time." Vivian swivelled around to face Abby. "I'd really like that boy to see another Red Sox game. Wouldn't you?"
Vivian's expression was as calm and unreadable as ever. She might be soft as slush inside, thought Abby, but Vivian would never show it.
"Dr. Chao?" said the ward clerk.
"Yes?"
"I just called SICU about that lymphocyte crossmatch. They said they're already running a match against Karen Terrio."
"Great. For once my intern's on the ball."
"But Dr. Chao, the crossmatch isn't with Josh O"Day."
Vivian turned and looked at the clerk. "What?"
"SICU says they're running it on someone else. Some private patient named Nina Voss."
"But Josh is critical! He's at the top of the list."
"All they said was the heart's going to that other patient." Vivian shot to her feet. In three quick steps she was at the telephone, punching in a number. A moment later, Abby heard her say:
"This is Dr. Chao. I want to know who ordered that lymphocyte crossmatch on Karen Terrio." She listened. Then, frowning, she hung up.
"Did you get the name?" asked Abby.
"Yes."
"Who ordered it?"
"Mark Hodell."
CHAPTER FOUR
Abby and Mark had made reservations that night for Casablanca's, a restaurant just down the road from their Cambridge house. Though it was meant to be a celebration, to mark the six month anniversary of their moving in together, the mood at their table was anything but cheerful.
"All I want to know," said Abby, 'is who the hell is Nina Voss?"
'! told you, I don't know," said Mark. "Now can we drop the subject?"
"The boy's critical. He's coding practically twice a day. He's been on the recipient list for a year. Now an AB positive heart finally becomes available, and you're bypassing the registry system? Giving the heart to some private patient who's still living at home?"
"We're not giving it away, OK? It was a clinical decision."
"Whose decision was it?"
"Aaron Levi's. He called me this afternoon. Told me that Nina Voss was being admitted tomorrow. He asked me to order the screening labs on the donor."
"That's all he told you?"
"Essentially." Mark reached for the bottle of wine and refilled his glass, sloshing burgundy onto the tablecloth. "Now can we change the subject?"
She watched him sip the wine. He wasn't looking at her, wasn't meeting her gaze.
"Who is this patient?" she asked. "How old is she?"
'! don't want to talk about it."
"You're the one taking her to surgery. You must know how old she is."
"Forty-six."
"From out of state?"
"Boston."
"I heard she was flying in from Rhode Island. That's what the nurses told me."
"She and her husband live in Newport during the summer."
"Who's her husband?"
"Some guy named Victor Voss. That's all I know about him, his name."
She paused. "How did Voss get his money?"
"Did I say anything about money?"
"A summer home in Newport? Give me a break, Mark."
He still wouldn't look at her, still wouldn't lift his gaze from that glass of wine. So many times before, she'd look across a table at him and see all the things that had first attracted her. The direct gaze. The forty-one years of laugh
In silence, Abby and Vivian left the room.
At the MICU nurses' station, Abby watched as Vivian signed in duplicate the order for the lymphocyte crossmatch between Josh O"Day's and Karen Terrio's blood.
"How soon can he go to surgery?" asked Abby.
"We could be scrubbed and ready to cut by tomorrow morning. The sooner the better. The kid's had three episodes of V. tach in just the last day. With a heart rhythm that unstable, he doesn't have much time." Vivian swivelled around to face Abby. "I'd really like that boy to see another Red Sox game. Wouldn't you?"
Vivian's expression was as calm and unreadable as ever. She might be soft as slush inside, thought Abby, but Vivian would never show it.
"Dr. Chao?" said the ward clerk.
"Yes?"
"I just called SICU about that lymphocyte crossmatch. They said they're already running a match against Karen Terrio."
"Great. For once my intern's on the ball."
"But Dr. Chao, the crossmatch isn't with Josh O"Day."
Vivian turned and looked at the clerk. "What?"
"SICU says they're running it on someone else. Some private patient named Nina Voss."
"But Josh is critical! He's at the top of the list."
"All they said was the heart's going to that other patient." Vivian shot to her feet. In three quick steps she was at the telephone, punching in a number. A moment later, Abby heard her say:
"This is Dr. Chao. I want to know who ordered that lymphocyte crossmatch on Karen Terrio." She listened. Then, frowning, she hung up.
"Did you get the name?" asked Abby.
"Yes."
"Who ordered it?"
"Mark Hodell."
CHAPTER FOUR
Abby and Mark had made reservations that night for Casablanca's, a restaurant just down the road from their Cambridge house. Though it was meant to be a celebration, to mark the six month anniversary of their moving in together, the mood at their table was anything but cheerful.
"All I want to know," said Abby, 'is who the hell is Nina Voss?"
'! told you, I don't know," said Mark. "Now can we drop the subject?"
"The boy's critical. He's coding practically twice a day. He's been on the recipient list for a year. Now an AB positive heart finally becomes available, and you're bypassing the registry system? Giving the heart to some private patient who's still living at home?"
"We're not giving it away, OK? It was a clinical decision."
"Whose decision was it?"
"Aaron Levi's. He called me this afternoon. Told me that Nina Voss was being admitted tomorrow. He asked me to order the screening labs on the donor."
"That's all he told you?"
"Essentially." Mark reached for the bottle of wine and refilled his glass, sloshing burgundy onto the tablecloth. "Now can we change the subject?"
She watched him sip the wine. He wasn't looking at her, wasn't meeting her gaze.
"Who is this patient?" she asked. "How old is she?"
'! don't want to talk about it."
"You're the one taking her to surgery. You must know how old she is."
"Forty-six."
"From out of state?"
"Boston."
"I heard she was flying in from Rhode Island. That's what the nurses told me."
"She and her husband live in Newport during the summer."
"Who's her husband?"
"Some guy named Victor Voss. That's all I know about him, his name."
She paused. "How did Voss get his money?"
"Did I say anything about money?"
"A summer home in Newport? Give me a break, Mark."
He still wouldn't look at her, still wouldn't lift his gaze from that glass of wine. So many times before, she'd look across a table at him and see all the things that had first attracted her. The direct gaze. The forty-one years of laugh
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