Authors: K. S. Ruff
Tags: #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Inspirational, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense
Rafael
and I exchanged glances. “You don’t recommend transfusion?”
She
shook her head. “No. That’s an option of last resort, and I don’t think we’re
quite there yet.”
I
slowly released the breath I was holding. “Do you share Dr. Graham’s concerns
about brain damage?”
Her
cheeks heated. “No. I think we can turn the bilirubin around before it reaches
that point. She’s keeping her food down; her muscle tone and startle reflex are
fine. I’m not seeing any evidence of Kernicterus.” Her eyes slid toward the neonatologist.
“You should request a neurology consult if you’re concerned about brain
damage.”
He
nodded. Once.
The
gastroenterologist looked at me. “Livers are very resilient organs. They can
take a huge hit and recover, but they are slow to recover. Intensive
phototherapy is very effective. Even if that doesn’t work, your daughter still
has options. She just needs time.”
Hope
,
I thought.
She’s offering us hope.
My throat clogged with tears.
Rafael
sandwiched my ice cold hands between his. “Dr. Graham, do you have any children
of your own?”
“No,”
he grumbled.
Rafael
looked at the nephrologist. “Do you?”
She
smiled. “Two girls.”
“What
would you do if this was your daughter?” he asked.
The
room fell silent.
She
took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’d start dialysis.”
Rafael
turned to the gastroenterologist. “And you?”
Her
eyes grew fierce. “My son is six months old. I’d demand every possible
intervention. I’d fight to save his life.”
Rafael
pulled me close. “Then we fight. We’d like to start intensive phototherapy as
soon as possible. We won’t pursue dialysis unless her creatinine hits two point
zero.”
We
remained seated while the physicians cleared out. Father McHugh encouraged us
to join hands as we began to pray.
*
* * * *
Rafael
dropped onto one knee. His lips met mine in a surprisingly passionate kiss when
he crawled onto the blanket. “You look beautiful this morning.”
I
stared at him, stunned. I’d been so focused on Gabriella, I’d forgotten what it
felt like to be… us.
He
reached for the thermos of coffee. “Thanks for bringing breakfast.”
I’d
purchased nearly every pastry La Madeleine had to offer, packed a thermos of
coffee, two mugs, our picnic blanket, and Bosco so we could eat outside. The
cafeteria was wearing on me. The whole hospital was, really. “How’s Gabriella?
Any news on her labs?”
Rafael
handed me a mug of coffee. “Her bilirubin dropped, but the creatinine inched
up. She’s at one point nine now.”
I
wondered how it was possible to feel both fear and relief at the exact same
time. I blew the steam off the coffee before taking a tentative sip. “I’m glad
her liver is doing better.”
Rafael
bit into a ham and cheese croissant. “The neurologist will be evaluating her
today. Do you want me to stay?” He handed Bosco a piece of ham.
Bosco
swallowed the morsel whole. He sat perfectly still while waiting for another
piece.
I
chuckled softly. Bosco was watching Rafael so intently. “You should go home and
get some sleep. Brady’s bringing my parents by. I’ll make sure one of them is
with me when the neurologist arrives.”
“The
neonatologist wants to schedule the surgery to place the dialysis catheter,” he
revealed tiredly.
My
heart began to ache. “I want to hold her before she goes through surgery. I
want Gabriella to know she’s loved. She deserves something good, something
comforting and kind, before enduring any more painful experiences.”
He
handed Bosco another piece of ham. “Faddwa is working today. She would be the
most likely to consent. Will you text me if she approves? I’ll come back to the
hospital so I can hold her too.”
I
picked at a chocolate filled croissant. “Of course. We should be together for
that.”
We
watched a yellow medevac helicopter land on top of the hospital. Rafael sipped
his coffee, thoughtfully. “I’ve been meaning to ask you…”
My
eyes met his.
He
continued cautiously. “You mentioned something about Michael when you were
wheeled out of recovery. Do you remember?”
“I
remember.” I stared at the palm of my hands. I could still feel the crosses the
priest had drawn.
“Why
were you talking about Michael?” he whispered.
I
shook my head. “I don’t know how to explain this when I can barely comprehend
it myself.”
“Try,”
he encouraged softly.
“You’ll
never believe me.” I sighed.
He
lifted my chin so I was forced to look at him. “I promise you, I will.”
My
heart clenched. “I saw Michael and Genevieve when I was in surgery.”
Rafael
paled.
I
took a deep breath and slowly released it. “I asked him if we were dead. He
said, ‘Love never dies.’”
Rafael
swallowed. Hard.
I
picked at a blade of grass. “Michael said I had to go back, that God wasn’t
finished with me yet. He said not to be scared. He wanted me to be happy. He
said, ‘Take care of my brother and our girl.’ I was confused because I thought
he was talking about Genevieve. But now I know. He was talking about Gabriella.”
My
eyes widened when I saw Rafael was crying. I crawled onto his lap.
He
clung to me while he rocked. “I believe you,” he sobbed again and again.
*
* * * *
I
rested my head on Rafael’s lap, hoping to catch a nap. The nurse shift change
was nearing an end. I was planning to stay the night since Gabriella was
scheduled for surgery first thing in the morning. In less than twelve hours,
some stranger would be cutting into our child. I kept having to remind myself
that this was a life-saving intervention. Operating on a child who weighed less
than two pounds felt so wrong. I closed my eyes with a ragged sigh.
“Kristine?”
“Maxim?”
I bolted upright. My stitches pulled. My face sheeted white.
Maxim
fell to his knees. “Oni told me what happened. I came as quickly as I could.”
I
stared, dumbfounded, before bursting into tears.
Maxim
pulled me into his arms. He whispered soothingly in Russian while I cried.
I
brushed my tears aside with a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m sorry. I got your
suit wet.”
He
shook his head. “It is only a suit.”
A
smile teased my lips. “I can’t believe you came.”
“I
wish you would have called me. I did not like hearing this news from Oni.” He
looked at Rafael. “Is it true she nearly died?”
Rafael
nodded. “Her heart stopped, but it began beating on its own a few seconds
later.”
I
stilled. “I thought you said Gabriella’s heart was strong?”
Rafael
glanced at me in surprise. “Gabriella’s heart is strong. It was your heart that
stopped.”
My
jaw dropped.
He
frowned. “You don’t remember?”
“How
could she possibly remember? She was on Morphine and magnesium sulfate when Dr.
Meinig told her.” Jase set a large paper bag on the coffee table. He was
treating us to dinner tonight.
Rafael’s
voice gentled. “Your heart stopped beating shortly after they began the
C-section. You were in shock from the blood loss. That’s why you received the
blood transfusion.”
“I
received a blood transfusion?” You would think I’d remember this conversation. “Did
they have to use a defibrillator?”
Rafael
shook his head. “Your heart resumed beating on its own.”
“You
should have called me.” Maxim glowered at Rafael.
“How
did Oni know?” I reclaimed the chair next to Rafael.
“Shae
told her.” Maxim eased into the chair next to me. “How’s your daughter?”
When
I couldn’t answer, Rafael answered for me. “Gabriella’s kidneys are failing. She’s
scheduled for surgery first thing in the morning so they can place a dialysis
catheter.”
Maxim’s
jaw clenched.
I
slid my hand in his. “Would you like to meet her?”
He
stared at me, speechless.
“Do
you mind?” I asked Rafael.
He
patted my leg, reassuringly. “Maxim came all the way from Ukraine. He should
meet her.”
I
led Maxim to the window where we had to check in. “We’d like to see Gabriella
Garcia.”
The
receptionist’s eyes narrowed. “Another brother, Mrs. Garcia?”
I
shook my head. “This is Maxim Markov. He’s the president of Ukraine and a very
dear friend of mine. He’s flown a considerable distance and will only be here a
short time.”
Her
jaw dropped. She promptly snapped it shut. “He has to scrub up, just like
everyone else.”
Maxim
removed his suit jacket. He set it next to Rafael before joining me at the
sink. He removed his cufflinks, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and followed my
lead.
The
doors clicked open. I stopped at the metal shelf. I handed Maxim a gown before
pulling one over my arms.
He
tugged the gown over his dress shirt while we walked to NICU room two. He
stopped abruptly when he saw the Isolettes. “Kristine,” he pleaded brokenly. He
closed his eyes against the image.
“She’s
over here,” I whispered soothingly. I knew how difficult it was to see all
those babies fighting for their lives.
His
eyes widened when we neared her Isolette. “She’s no bigger than my hand.”
I
opened the little round door. Gabriella squirmed when I rested my hand on her
chest. “Would you like to hold her hand?”
Maxim’s
eyes glistened with unshed tears. He moved to the other side of the Isolette,
opened the door, and offered her his pinky finger. His breath caught when Gabriella
grasped his finger.
He
inventoried every patch, tube, bandage, and wire while I tried to wish the
jaundice away. Thank God her liver was doing better.
Maxim’s
hand covered mine so Gabriella’s chest rose and fell against both our hands.
“Will you pray with me?”
“Yes.”
Every thought, every breath was a prayer these days. We joined hands over the
top of the Isolette.
“Ancient
of Days, Father Most High, this is yet another thing I cannot endure without
you. Gabriella is your child. Guide her parents and physicians. Allow them to
feel your presence. Heal Gabriella’s kidneys; ease her pain and suffering. You
alone can heal this child. You are our strength, our Savior, our hope. I pray
this in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.”
Together
we whispered, “Amen.”
One
of the night nurses approached the Isolette. “Faddwa told me you asked to hold
Gabriella before her surgery. She was worried the neonatologist would intervene
earlier today. He’s not working this evening, and things are much quieter now.
Would you like to hold her?”
“Yes,
please.” I choked back tears.
Frustration
rolled through Maxim’s eyes. “They wouldn’t allow you to hold your child?”
I
shook my head. “This will be the first time.”
Gently,
he caressed Gabriella’s head. “I’ll retrieve Rafael. He should be here when you
hold his child.” He kissed me on the forehead. “I’m going to check into my
hotel, but I’ll return in the morning. What time is her surgery?”
“Seven
o’clock.” I cringed. “I don’t know if the hospital will allow visitors at that
hour.”
Maxim’s
fists clenched. “Trust me. They will allow it.”
I
grabbed his arm as he turned to go. “About the wedding.”
His
eyes darkened.
I
stepped back, warily. “Were you there?”
He
frowned. “Of course I was there. Surely, you found the
matryoshka
dolls?”
My
voice softened. “Why didn’t you sit where I could see you, speak to us, or stay
for the reception?”
He
stepped closer. “As painful as that moment was, it was important for me to see.
I wanted you to know I respect your decision, but I did not wish to ruin your
day.”
A
tear stole silently down my cheek.
Maxim
pulled me close. “I meant what I said in Ukraine. I will wait… as long as it
takes.” He stole my tear with his thumb, pressed a kiss to my cheek, and walked
away.
*
* * * *
I
stared at the nurse in disbelief.
“Cancelled?”
Rafael repeated incredulously. “Her surgery has been cancelled?”
She
nodded. “The nephrologist cancelled the surgery when she saw Gabriella’s lab
results.” The phlebotomist drew Gabriella’s blood earlier this morning in
advance of the surgery.