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Part 18: A Dimming of the Lights
Jarod tapped on the door of the room, pushing it open as the two people looked up. The woman smiled as Mark got immediately to his feet.
“Is it time to go already?”
“Not quite,” Jarod told him quietly. “But I do want a few minutes to talk with your mother. Will you go to my office, Mark? I’ll come there when we’re done.”
Giving his mother one last kiss and returning her embrace, the young man walked immediately to the doorway, casting a final look over his shoulder before shutting the door behind himself. Jarod waited until he was gone before looking back at his patient.
“Can I sit down?”
“It’s your hospital, Dr. Crawford,” the woman told him, smiling. “You can do whatever you want.”
He faintly returned the smile, taking the seat Mark had occupied and looking up at the woman, his eyes full of sympathy. “Mrs. Lyneham, your son told me this morning that in his words, you looked ‘more tired than you did yesterday.’ That fact and my own observations when I examined you this morning were the reasons I ordered those further tests.”
She met his gaze steadily. “There’s nothing more you can do, is there, Dr. Crawford?”
“I’m afraid not,” he told her quietly. “The cancer is well advanced and, as you know, nothing we’ve tried in the last few months has had much of an effect. There’s nothing else I can suggest.”
She nodded slowly before looking up. “How much longer do I have?”
“At best, a few months.”
“And…” The woman swallowed hard, fear in her eyes. “Mark?”
“His test results were clear,” Jarod replied. “While I can’t guarantee that he won’t get it, he doesn’t have it now.”
The woman studied the pattern of the floor for a moment before looking at the man. “Will you tell him yourself, please, Dr. Crawford?”
He nodded. “If you want me to.”
“I’d rather that than anybody else.”
Jarod leaned forward in the chair. “You need to decide what you want to do from now on, Mrs. Lyneham. I can discharge you if you would prefer to go home, or we can keep you here, for a while at least, to work out the best way of keeping you most comfortable.”
“What about the internship?”
“That’s Mark’s choice,” he responded. “We can suspend it until he feels ready to continue, or he can give it up entirely if he would prefer that…”
The young man looked up as the door of the office opened, watching the doctor walk around to sit down behind the desk. Jarod paused for a moment before he spoke.
“Mark, I received the results of the tests you did today.”
Jarod saw the younger man tense immediately, his eyes revealing his fear. “Do I…?”
“No, you don’t have it,” the doctor replied evenly. “The tests showed no abnormalities.”
He gave a sigh, relaxing back in the chair for a second, before tensing again, his eyes wary. “And the tests that Mom did?”
“I’m sorry, Mark,” Jarod told him softly. “But I can’t do anything more to help your mother.”
For a couple of seconds, the young man stared up at him blankly, and Jarod could see the denial flowering on his face, before Mark slowly nodded, lowering his gaze to the floor.
“Have you… told her?”
“I had to, Mark,” Jarod stated. “I couldn’t possibly tell you if she didn’t already know.”
A tear slid down the young man’s face and dropped onto his hands. “And what does she want me to do?”
“It’s your choice. She wants to stay here in the hospital for a while longer before she goes home again.” He looked closely at Mark. “I’d like you to continue your internship, if you feel able to, but that’s a decision for you to make. If you don’t feel you can concentrate, it might be as well for the patients if we suspend it.”
“Do I have to decide now?”
“Not at all,” Jarod replied gently. “I’d suggest you spend tomorrow morning with your mother, and, once the two of you have talked, then you can see if you’re ready to make the decision about that and other things.”
“And… tonight?”
“What would you prefer to do?” Jarod prompted. “Do you want to stay with her or come home with me?”
“I think… it might be best if… I didn’t stay…” the younger man faltered. “I don’t… think I could…”
Standing, Jarod walked around to desk, sitting in a chair next to Mark and placing his hand on his intern’s shoulder. “You don’t have to, Mark,” he stated quietly. “You don’t have to be strong all the time. Nobody is going to think any the less of you if you show what you feel, particularly not me.”
Nodding, the younger man turned slightly towards the doctor, feeling a comforting arm around his shoulders as tears began to slide down his face. A tissue was pushed into his hand and Mark curled his fingers around the soft bundle, crushing it in the palm of his hand. Resting his head on the man’s shoulder, he felt his tears drop onto the doctor’s white shirt.
“Go ahead, Mark,” the man murmured. “Let out the worst of it now. It’ll be easier after you do that, I promise.”
Jarod placed his other hand on the young man’s other shoulder, feeling it tremble as Mark started to sob, and slightly tightened his hold around the weeping son.
Jarod opened the front door of the house, directing Mark in ahead of him and giving the younger man a gentle push in the direction of his room.
“You don’t have to come out into the living room tonight, if you don’t want to.”
Mark sent the doctor a grateful look, going into the room and half shutting the door. Jarod paused outside the room for a moment, hearing the muffled sobs that started almost immediately, before he thoughtfully walked down the hall, entering the kitchen to see Nicole stirring a pot on the stove. As he entered, she removed it from the heat, walking over to put her arms around him and rest her head on his shoulder. Jarod wrapped both arms around her, burying his face in her hair for a moment.
“How is he?”
“The way you’d expect him to be,” Jarod replied softly, running his fingers through her brown curls and gently kissing her forehead, grateful for a woman with as much understanding as his wife.
“Charlotte’s still awake,” his wife told him. “I think she wants to see her Daddy.”
He smiled faintly and, after kissing Nicole once more, went up the stairs and into the baby’s room. The little girl was staring at the ceiling, but her face broke into a smile as he bent over the bed.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
Charlotte cooed as he picked her up. Jarod gently stroked her hair, holding the small body firmly in his arms.
“I think you might be very useful for me now, Charlotte.” He smiled at the girl. “I’m sure your Mom won’t mind if you don’t go to bed until a bit later tonight.”
The man carried the baby down the stairs and along the hall, tapping gently on Mark’s door.
“C… come in.”
Jarod pushed the door open, unsurprised that Mark already lay in bed. “I brought a visitor to see you.”
Mark smiled weakly as the baby held out her arms and sat up, taking the small girl as she was offered. Charlotte snuggled into his arms as Jarod turned to the door.
“Nicole was heating some soup when I went into the kitchen. Would you like some?”
“That… sounds good,” Mark admitted, softly stroking the hair of the baby he held, and Jarod gave a satisfied nod, leaving the room. When he was gone, the young man lay down again, feeling the baby crawl up to lie on his chest. His head throbbed and eyes ached so badly that it was a relief to close them. Charlotte slid off his chest and he curled one arm around her to prevent her falling off the bed, feeling her put her head on the crook of his arm and nestle closer to him. Sighing, he rolled onto his side, making sure that the baby was still secure.
Sydney softly pushed open the door several minutes later, hesitating in the doorway, before walking silently over to the bed and taking the baby out of the sleeping young man’s arms. He waited for a minute, but Mark remained asleep, and the psychiatrist gently pulled up a blanket to cover him before leaving the room.
“Well?”
“You were right,” Sydney retorted, giving the sleeping baby to her father. “He is asleep.”
“I’d say ‘I told you so’…” Jarod began.
“I’d rather you didn’t,” the older man told him, sitting down. He took a closer look at the man. “Are you okay?”
“You know how I feel about losing patients, Sydney,” Jarod replied somewhat sharply.
The psychiatrist nodded sympathetically. “What do you think he’s going to do?”
“Whatever his mother suggests,” the younger man responded. “And I’d say that she’ll want him to continue with the internship.”
“And you think he will?”
Jarod eyed the other man somewhat severely. “He’s going lose her, Sydney. Don’t you think he’ll do whatever she wants him to?”
Sydney arched an eyebrow. “What would you do in that situation?”
“Exactly that,” the surgeon retorted. “And that’s why I think he will, too.”
Jarod finished doing up his tie as he walked along the hall to tap on the bedroom door. “Mark, are you awake?”
“Yes,” responded a soft voice from behind him, and the doctor turned to see the young man in the hallway, fully dressed.
“How are you feeling?”
“Not bad.” Mark shrugged slightly, turning away. Jarod put one hand on his shoulder, guiding him into the dining room.
“Seeing as you never had that soup I suggested last night, it might be a good idea if you at least try to eat something for breakfast.”
Wrapping his hands around the mug that Jarod filled and pushed in his direction, Mark sipped the warm coffee, staring blankly at the floor. A sound brought his eyes to the stairs as Nicole came in with Charlotte in her arms. The girl held out her arms as soon as she saw the young man and her father laughed, handing over the child.
“You’ve certainly made a friend, Charlotte.”
Mark smiled faintly, taking the baby, after placing the mug back on the table. Jarod filled a cup for Nicole, passing it over before topping up his own coffee.
“How’s your day looking?”
“Long,” Nicole sighed, brushing back one of her curls. “I’ve got two operations and my morning is filled with appointments.”
“You’ll see me at ten,” Jarod grinned. “And I’d better not have to wait around because you choose to run behind time.”
“You’ll get a discount if I do,” his wife promised.
“A discount on a free consultation?” Jarod raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean you’ll pay me?”
“I’ll buy you a week’s supply of PEZ,” she promised, laughing. “And maybe even that dispenser I saw you eyeing eagerly last time we went shopping.”
“That sounds good to me,” Jarod agreed, seeing the faint smile on Mark’s face. “Is that only if you run late, or are you going to be that generous anyway?”
“I’m a generous person,” she told him, batting her eyelids flirtatiously.
“So I noticed,” her husband remarked.
Getting up, he rescued the bread that had been toasting in the kitchen, returning to the living area and placing the breadbasket on the table. Nicole took the baby girl, putting her in the high chair and tying the bib around her neck, before giving Charlotte a bottle of warm milk. Jarod took a slice of toast out of the basket, nodding with satisfaction as Mark did the same, spreading it with butter and nibbling on the corner. There was a moment of silence before Nicole spoke again.
“And how’s your day looking, Jarod?”
“Much the same as yours,” he admitted, swallowing the last of the toast and reaching for another slice. “Surgery after my consultation with you, patients all afternoon and I agreed to give a lecture at the medical school in town at midday as a favour for Professor Davidson.” He rolled his eyes. “I must have lost my mind.”
“Well, that’s a definite possibility,” joked Sydney as he walked in. “Although I’ve suspected it for a while now.”
“You know,” Jarod responded wryly, “one day you’ll probably give me a shock by not insulting me as soon as you enter a room.”
“I’ll only keep doing this for as long as you provide me with opportunities that are too good to pass up,” the older man told him, laughing as he made himself a mug of coffee.
“Something you learnt from Parker?”
“Probably.” Sydney watched out of the corner of his eye as Mark finished the first slice of toast and began on a second, seeing that Jarod had also noticed. “Her habits can be quite contagious.”
“I haven’t seen her lately,” Nicole commented. “How are they?”
“Very happy,” Sydney told her. “They’ve finally found a house that they both like and purchased it last week. I understand they’re moving in two months.”
“Where to?”
The psychiatrist paused for a moment, trying to hide a smile and failing. “Blue Cove.”
Jarod's eyes popped. “They what?!”
“It was the only house they found that they both liked.”
“I would have built one for them if they’d asked me,” the other man muttered, swallowing the last of the coffee in his mug. He cast a glance at the silent young man opposite, seeing that he was toying with the remains of his toast, and stood up. “It sounds like we’re all going to be a little late today.”
“Michelle’s coming tonight,” Sydney commented airily. “And she said something about cooking dinner.”
“That’s blackmail,” Jarod retorted as he gathered his papers together and slid them into his case, flipping shut the locks and seizing his jacket, seeing the older man laugh. “But we’ll see if we can get home a little earlier than planned.”
“I’m going to be catching up on paperwork this morning before the surgery,” Jarod told the young man in the passenger seat. “So you can spend that time with your mother. I’ll be coming in to see her first after lunch, so we can discuss things then.”
“I was… wondering…” Mark queried hesitantly.
“Yes?” the doctor prompted after a moment of silence.
“Well… Mom often sleeps during the middle of the day and… I was hoping that…”
Jarod smiled, raising an eyebrow slightly. “You want to come to my lecture?”
“Well, it… might be kind of interesting.”
“You can if you want,” the surgeon told him. “I’ll be leaving at eleven thirty, provided the operation is finished by then. If you come up to my office then, we can leave from there.”
“What’s it about?”
“Pain relief and cancer treatment.” He glanced at Mark out of the corner of his eye. “Are you sure you want to be there?”
“Yes, sir, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Jarod grinned. “And if I miss anything, you can add it for me.”
Mark half-smiled at the teasing tone in the man’s voice before becoming more serious. “What do you think Mom will want me to do?”
Jarod pulled the car into his reserved spot, switched off the engine and then turned in his seat to look at the young man, his voice soft. “Ask her yourself, Mark. Let her tell you everything she wants you to know. It’s important for both of you that you have that chance.”
“Dr. Lyneham?” Jarod looked at the young man sitting at the side of the room as the last student left the lecture hall. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes, Dr. Crawford.” Mark stood up.
“So, what did you think?” the surgeon queried as they headed for the car.
“I’m glad I wasn’t a student of yours,” the younger man admitted.
“Oh, really?” Jarod raised an eyebrow. “And why?”
“Well, I suppose you were trying to stay on the topic,” the intern suggested. “But I wouldn’t have been wanting to take notes during that lecture.”
Jarod laughed. “Okay, so I went off track a little…”
“To the point that you weren’t even discussing the treatment of cancer anymore.” Mark glanced at the man. “I’m not sure most of the students in that room had the necessary degree in physics that would allow them to understand all you were talking about in relation to the use of radiation.”
“Did you?”
“Uh, I think you lost me about two-thirds of the way through.”
“But you’d caught up by the end,” the older man stated.
Mark couldn’t help smiling. “What makes you think that?”
“Wild guess.” Jarod grinned. “And the fact that you were the only person in the room who reacted to my appalling attempt at humor.”
Mark watched Jarod for a moment before his eyes widened slightly. “That was deliberate!”
Jarod shot him a look of innocence. “What was?”
“Knowing that I’d come to this, to take my mind off…”
“And did it work?”
“Uh, I’ll get back to you on that one,” Mark told him.
“Well, before you start pressuring me for answers, yes, that was deliberate, although I would have given the lecture anyway. I mentioned it to your mother and she would have talking you into going if you hadn’t made the decision for yourself.” He shot Mark another glance. “Just like the way she talked you into continuing with the internship, didn’t she?”
Mark’s expression was one of astonishment. “Did you ask her?”
“I’ve been treating your mother for almost a year now,” Jarod reminded him. “I’ve got a good idea of what she’s like and the way she feels about you and the work you’re doing. We talked after the situation last year, and she told me some of the things she hopes you’ll do in future. Successfully completing your internship this time around is one of them.”
Mark turned his head aside, blinking the tears out of his eyes. “You’re right,” he admitted. “She’s really keen for me to keep going.”
Jarod's voice was quiet. “And are you going to, Dr. Lyneham?”
“I’ve only got one concern.” He looked up as the car stopped at a traffic light. “It’s a long way from here to travel home every day, and I want to spend as much time as I can with her.”
The older man reached into his pocket and extracted a small booklet, passing it to Mark. “This is a residence for people in your mother’s situation. They’re given around-the-clock care, but within their own suite of rooms. I gave one of the information booklets to your mother yesterday and I’m half-expecting her to ask me to put her name down for a place there.”
“Which you’ve already done,” Mark finished knowingly and smiled as Jarod grinned.
“You know me too well,” he laughed. “You’re right, I did. The residence is about ten minutes drive from the hospital and five minutes walk from our house. I called Sydney's son last night - Nicholas sleeps in the room you’re occupying now when he comes to visit his parents. He’s willing for you to keep using that room, if you want, and he’ll sleep in the room Nicole and I use as an office.”
“And… the cost?”
“She can either lease a room, or purchase one of her own if she wants, and then you can decide whether to sell it or hire it out when she no longer needs it.”
Mark nodded soberly. “I guess we need to talk about that – Mom and I, I mean.”
“That and other things, although I suspect you already started that today.”
The younger man smiled faintly. “You know as much about me as I know about you.”
“I told you a year ago that we were similar people,” Jarod reminded Mark. “The more I see of you, the more convinced I was that my judgment was accurate.”
“I get the feeling that it usually is.”
“Sometimes, but not always,” the older man replied with a smile. “And I think ‘usually’ is probably too generous. Ask my wife what I was like as her patient and you’ll get some examples of when my judgment has been very wrong. Sydney could probably give you some, too.”
“And you really went to see her as a patient today?”
“She won’t perform check-ups at home,” Jarod grumbled. “She says she got enough of that when I was still an invalid and she prefers to leave work at the hospital when she comes home.”
“To more work,” Mark put in. “Even with Sydney and Michelle helping, it can’t be easy working the hours she does, keeping a house in the wonderful order yours always is and taking care of a baby.”
Jarod laughed. “I’ll tell her you said that. I’m sure she’ll appreciate the compliment.”
Jarod wandered around the living room of the house, eyeing the photos on the walls, hearing the sounds of packing from other room and, occasionally, muffled sobs. He stopped at what seemed to be the most recent, Mark and his mother in the front garden of their house. The doctor’s eyes became sad as he gazed at the happy faces in the photo.
“That was a few months ago.”
The older man turned. “Are you going to take it with you?”
“Mom made this just after that was taken.” Mark picked up a photo album from the coffee table. “It has copies of all those, as well as a few others.”
“Good.” Jarod smiled approbation as he eyed the bag in the younger man’s other hand. “Are you going to get anything for your mother?”
“I didn’t know exactly what she’d need.”
“Very much what she needs everyday.” Jarod followed Mark down the hall as he spoke. “Clothes for the days that she wants to get up and changes of night clothes, toiletries…”
The son’s eyes were fearful. “For how long?”
“I can’t say for sure, Mark,” Jarod replied softly. “But you can come back to get more if she needs other things or we forget something important.”
The younger man pulled a case down from the top of the wardrobe and opened it on the bed. He pulled open the cupboard doors before he hesitated, glancing at the man in the doorway.
“This is…”
“…difficult,” Jarod finished as he stopped. “Both because of the reason you’re having to do it and because you find it strange to be going through your mother’s things.”
“Yes,” Mark muttered, turning away and then lifting his eyes again, a look of pain evident in them. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Would you be happier if Nicole and I came back later and got them?”
Mark nodded mutely, turning from the bed and walking slowly towards the door. Jarod put his arm around the younger man for a moment before letting him lead the way out of the house. When the two men were once more in the car, Mark gazed blankly at the album in his arms for a minute and then looked at the doctor.
“What about… later?”
“Not yet, Mark,” Jarod replied quietly. “Concentrate on what you’ve got now and think about those things then. You’ll have plenty of time to do everything afterwards.”
Nodding silently again, Mark turned away, his eyes filling as he looked out of the window. His arm tightened around the album as his other hand wiped away the tears that slid down his cheeks.
“Do you want to go back and see your mother tonight or come home to get your things settled?”
“I… said goodbye to her earlier because I didn’t know how long we’d take to pack.”
Jarod glanced at his watch. “We’ve got about half an hour before Michelle said that dinner would be ready, so you’ve got time to unpack everything.”
“I am… a little hungry.”
“Good.” Jarod nodded in satisfaction. “And I heard a rumor that you’re not a bad cook yourself.”
“I used to cook sometimes, when Mom couldn’t.”
“Then you and I can do dinner tomorrow night, seeing as we’ve got Saturday afternoons free.”
“The advantages of being the boss,” Mark commented with a small smile.
“Something like that,” the older man laughed. “Why else would I have accepted the position?”
Jarod spotted the two children playing in the front garden and parked the car in the street, getting out as Mark collected his things and vaulting over the gate.
“Springing surprise visits now, Parker?”
“Something like that.” She laughed, hugging him. “Faith told me how much she missed Charlotte, so I thought we might as well come for a visit.”
Jarod raised an eyebrow. “She told you that?”
“Well, not in so many words,” the woman admitted. “It was more implication.”
“And you deserted your poor husband…”
“Hardly,” remarked a male voice from the veranda, where Broots was sitting beside Debbie on the outdoor sofa. “Call it a family vacation.”
“You’re lucky to be able to manage those,” the doctor grumbled. “We’ve got no hope.”
“It doesn’t look as if Charlotte minds too much.” Parker looked down at her adopted daughter and the other one-year-old girl as they played together. Jarod's daughter smiled at her father and then crawled eagerly towards Mark as he opened the gate.
“Is this the person Nicole was telling us about?” the woman murmured and Jarod nodded.
“This is Mark. Mark, these are some friends of ours. I mentioned Parker at breakfast this morning. And their daughters, Debbie and Faith.”
The intern nodded, walking over with Charlotte still in his arms to greet the newcomers. As the girl wriggled, he let her down and then, at Jarod's suggestion, carried his bags into the house. When he was gone, Broots turned to the other man.
“Didn’t we see him last year?”
“You did,” Jarod grinned. “I told you about the person who was trying to emulate me. That’s him.”
Jarod picked up his daughter as Broots took Faith and the group walked into the house. As they entered the living room, a high-pitched beeping made Jarod quickly hand his daughter to Debbie and then take his pager from his pocket. A moment later, he made a lunge for the phone as Mark appeared in the doorway, his eyes fixed on the doctor. Parker nudged her husband and nodded at the young man, giggling as Broots tried to hide a grin at the similar expressions on the men’s faces.
Hanging up the phone, Jarod turned to the intern. “Sorry, dinner’s off.” He glanced at Michelle as she came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands. “Unless you want to leave us something.”
“I would,” she smiled. “But soufflé’s don’t reheat that well.”
Jarod rolled his eyes, pulling on his jacket. “Typical. It would be something like that. Oh well, such is life.” He picked up the car keys from the bench, hurrying the young man out of the house.
“I thought you said that these illnesses didn’t need us to be on call all the time,” Mark commented as the two men scrubbed at the sink.
“I altered the truth somewhat,” Jarod admitted, smiling grimly. “Although I wasn’t really expecting my patient to emulate my wife on the stairs.”
“It’s fun,” Nicole told him from the other sink with a grin. “You should try it some day.”
“Well, I hope I don’t have a tumor inside me in a potentially fatal position at the time, let alone all of the problems associated with head trauma,” he retorted tartly. “Where’s Wade?”
“Here,” the plastic surgeon commented, walking in and going over to where Nicole was scrubbing her hands. “I’m going to have to find a place closer to the hospital.”
“Now that you’ve got the job, I suggest you do,” Jarod told him, letting the nurse put on his gloves and fix on the mask. “Nicole, are you ready?”
“Just.” She waited until the mask was securely tied on before following Jarod into the operating theatre.
“Nicole, how are you doing?”
“Nearly done.” She looked up at the man who stood silently to one side. “Wade, you ready?”
“And waiting,” he told her, moving closer as she stepped aside.
“When you’ve finished there,” Jarod stated evenly, “we’ll be ready for you here.”
“A surgeon’s life is not an easy one,” the man commented, grinning behind the mask.
“Particularly not after a four-hour-operation,” Nicole agreed, glancing at the anesthetist. “Marnie, how’s she doing?”
“Stable, Dr. Crawford.”
“Good.” She looked at Jarod. “Want me to go out and tell the family?”
“Not yet,” he told her before looking up at Mark. “I need a second pair of hands, Dr. Lyneham. Are you ready?”
“Yes, Dr. Crawford.” Mark came to the other side of the operating table as the assistant moved to make room for him, having understood the look Jarod shot at him.
“Good.” Jarod clamped the last blood vessel and then severed it, shooting a glance at Wade out of the corner of his eye. “I’m leaving you a lovely puzzle to finish, Dr. Eubanks.”
“You’re so generous,” the plastic surgeon told him with a grin as he cut the end of the thread.
“I know, I know,” the other man murmured, focusing on the task in front of him. Painstakingly, the tennis-ball-sized tumor was removed from behind the patient’s heart, risks having made the operation virtually impossible earlier, but circumstances making it necessary now. Jarod paused for a moment, eyes fixed on the open wound, before glancing at the anesthetist.
“Marnie?”
“Stable, Dr. Crawford.”
“Good.” He turned to the nurse. “Let’s get that down to Pathology and see how close we came to having it rupture under our hands.”
“Yes, sir.” The nurse turned away immediately, carrying the covered dish out of the room, and he looked back down at the site that had been operated on before turning to the plastic surgeon.
“Wade, are you finished?”
“Two seconds, Jarod.” The man completed the last suture as Jarod looked at Mark.
“Good work, Dr. Lyneham. Very good indeed.”
“Thank you, Dr. Crawford,” the young man murmured, stepping away from the table again so that the assistant could take his place. Jarod continued to eye the wound for a moment before looking up as the plastic surgeon straightened.
Wade stepped over and eyed the site before looking up. “That’s what I call ‘a right mess’.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Jarod agreed. “Now let’s see you justify that glowing report of your work I gave to the board last week.”
“I love working under pressure,” Dr. Eubanks retorted sarcastically as he began to suture the end of the first severed vessel.
“You’ve spent four hours in the back of the room watching the rest of us to just that,” Jarod stated with a laugh. “Now let’s see you work for a change.”
“I knew I should have had second thoughts about that offer,” Wade muttered as he connected the various veins and arteries so that the bypass machinery could be turned off. After ten minutes, he looked up. “Let’s see how we go.”
Mark had retreated to the back of the room beside one of the nurses and watched as the bypass machinery was turned off, letting the patient’s heart begin beating again for the first time in nearly fifteen minutes. After two minutes, when the heart rate steadied, Jarod looked at his wife.
“Nicole, do you want to go out and tell them that she’s doing well at this stage and I’ll give them a full report in twenty minutes or so?”
“Gladly.” The woman pulled down her mask, stripped off her gloves and tore off an outer layer of scrubs to reveal others underneath before leaving the room.
“Want a hand with finishing, Wade?”
The other surgeon looked over the microscopic glasses, his eyes twinkling. “Am I permitted to say ‘no’ to my boss?”
“I like honesty,” the man remarked, grinning. “So I guess you are.”
“It’s fine, Jarod,” Wade told him. “It should only be another minute or two and then you can spring the non-surprise on your intern.”
Jarod laughed, looking up at Mark. “Dr. Lyneham, do you think you’ll be as tense this time as you were before?”
“Probably not, Dr. Crawford.” He took a step nearer the operating table as Wade tied off a suture and Jarod looked towards the nurse who stood beside the door.
“Tell ICU we’re finished and that they should prepare for her arrival in about fifteen minutes.”
“Yes, Dr. Crawford.”
The nurse who had spoken left the operating theatre immediately, picking up the phone on the wall outside after removing her gloves.
Wade stepped back after closing the long scar along the length of the patient’s sternum, allowing Mark to take his place. Jarod glanced at his assistant.
“David, will you oversee that while I go out and talk to the family?”
“Not a problem, Jarod.” David Meyer stepped closer to the table.
“Mark, when you’ve finished and cleaned up, come to the cafeteria for that dinner I promised you five hours ago.”
“That sounds good, Dr. Crawford,” the intern commented, never lifting his eyes from his work, and Jarod nodded in satisfaction as he left the room.
“The night wasn’t supposed to be that long,” Jarod remarked apologetically as he drove out of the hospital parking lot. “I’ll be going in quite early to check on the patient but you can come later with Nicole if you’d prefer it.”
“And when I get the same chance when I actually do this as a job?” Mark queried rhetorically. “I didn’t choose this occupation to get out of the less pleasant parts of it if the opportunity presented itself.”
“While I approve of the logic behind that argument,” the older man responded, “you won’t always have the emotional pressure that you’re under now.”
“Surely it can’t be easy, having to admit to patients who rely on you to make them better that you aren’t able to do it,” the younger man retorted quickly, watching the older man’s lips thin as Jarod nodded involuntarily.
“You’re right, it isn’t,” the surgeon agreed quietly. “But there’s the other side, too, when you know that a patient recovered because of what you did for them.”
“You don’t have to praise the profession to me,” Mark told him. “I wouldn’t have picked it if I didn’t already value it.”
“Your primary reason for choosing it isn’t one that most other people would opt for,” Jarod replied. “And it’s important that you know other people’s incentive as well.”
“Yours?”
“Largely, yes.” Jarod steered the car into the driveway. “In fact, that’s been a motivation for a long time now.”
“In all your different jobs,” Mark put in and the older man shot him a sharp glance as they both got out of the car.
“Who’ve you been talking to?”
“Sydney. He mentioned another job that you once did and I found it a bit tricky to understand how anyone could be both a professional racing-car driver and a surgeon in such a short time.”
Jarod's eyebrows lifted as he removed his coat. “I didn’t think he even knew about that one.”
“Parker told me about it later,” stated the psychiatrist from his chair as the two entered the room, Toby curled up in his lap and Charlie at his feet. “I think she found out about five months after you did it.”
“I could try it again, if you’d like to see it for yourself,” Jarod suggested with a grin. “It was kind of fun.”
“I think I prefer to see you the way you are now,” the older man retorted wryly. “I’m not sure either my ears or my nerves could stand an environment like that.”
“I had no idea you were that fragile.”
“Forty years at the Centre is enough to destroy anybody’s nerves.”
“Thirty-three was more than enough,” Jarod told him firmly, glancing at the young man opposite. “I’m going to bed. Mark, I’ll be knocking on your door at about six-thirty tomorrow morning.”
“This morning,” Sydney told him with a laugh. “It’s past midnight.”
“Thanks.” Jarod rolled his eyes as he began to go up the stairs. “Eminently helpful.”
