Perfect Match (42 page)

“Did I step outside the bounds of hospital protocol? Yes I
did, and I would do it again in a heartbeat—”

“I think that will be enough, Trevor, now that you’ve
admitted guilt.”

The lead attorney mouthed to Mills, ‘Let him finish.’

“Quite the contrary, Mr. Mills. I’m not guilty of anything.
Guilty connotes that I’ve done something wrong, and I didn’t. My lab work can
be verified. I don’t do sloppy work. I work with sloppy, worn out hospital
equipment, and so do they.”

He turned pointing to the surgical teams. “The biggest
challenge to the patient’s life the other night was doctors and nurses doing
their best with some of the worst equipment in any hospital.”

The four attorneys were bent over their legal pads,
scribbling furiously. Perspiration was running down Mills’ back.

Trevor continued. “Since I’ve worked at Cobalt, I have
properly reported more than 300 equipment malfunctions up the chain of command,
including you, Mr. Mills. Do you know how many responses I’ve gotten back?” He
paused briefly, letting the question hang in the stilled room. “Six, and all
six basically responded with ‘being considered within budgetary constraints.’
What’s interesting is that many times the needed “fix”, his hands gestured
quotations, “would have cost less than five dollars.”

Trevor took another pause.

“I was approached by a man who wanted to donate one of his
kidneys, but he wanted to remain anonymous. No hype or fanfare, he said.
Although a few people know the man’s name, I’m going to honor his desire to remain
anonymous. He simply wanted to be a Good Samaritan on a short notice that
Cobalt’s current protocol does not allow. I willingly performed the lab work in
a much shorter time than going the standard protocol route.” He held up one
finger. “But there was one glitch…the first lab results came out backwards, not
because of shoddy lab work, but because the damn printer was about to crash.”

Trevor ran his hand across his face. “So where does this
leave us? You can fire me if you want, although I love the work I do. Mrs.
Simmons can be a hard-ass sometimes, but we manage to get our work done. I love
my work, and my college grades and my performance reflect it. I will continue
in school or work somewhere else.

“I expect this hospital to keep the donor’s name anonymous,
unless he decides to reveal it. If that doesn’t happen, and his name gets
leaked to the media, I will unleash all of my stored equipment requests that
went unanswered, to every media outlet, and every regulatory agency.

“I’m sure your legal team can figure out how to persuade the
media not to broadcast anything about this transplant, should someone decide to
cause a leak.”

Mills glanced at the lead attorney who gave a slight nod.

Trevor removed his plastic ID badge, and tossed it up on the
conference table. “Let me know when I’m fired, so I can send my emails. I’m off
duty, and I’m working on a project for my scholarship submission. I’m out of
here.”

He spun around and headed down the aisle, but was blocked by
Dr. Frenchwater, who whispered to him, as he took his elbow, “Hold on a minute,
Trevor.”

They stepped back to the edge of the platform.

Frenchwater beckoned with his fingers.

Mills said, “What?”

“The badge. Give me the damn badge, Mills.”

Mills froze, his mouth becoming a tight thin line.

The lead attorney tossed the badge to Frenchwater.

Frenchwater clipped the badge to Trevor’s lab coat, and then
he addressed Mills and his gang of legal eagles. “Firing is not an option for
Trevor. If he goes, I go.”

His surgical team stood in unison, followed by Hertford and
his team. Nervously Alberta Simmons stood, along with everyone else.

Frenchwater said, “Trevor said what a number of us should
have said, but instead we chose the safety of our surgical instruments rather
than get involved with the deadly process of budget cutting.”

He made a scissor-cutting gesture with his fingers. “Perhaps
a balanced hospital study team could take a look at our current protocols and
policies and study how we can maintain the highest standards, but allow enough
flexibility to preserve compassionate health care in unique situations?”

The lead attorney was quick to recognize a face-saving
opportunity in this surprise turn-around meeting. He cleared his throat and
Mills gladly yielded. The attorney said, “If I may step in at this point and
elaborate for a moment. This,” pointing at the audience still standing, “is
exactly what Mr. Mills and I had hoped for…some additional input that could be
useful in moving forward so we can maintain the good name of Cobalt.” Turning
to Mills, he continued, “Wouldn’t you say that was the desired outcome we were
looking for today, not any kind of drastic action?”

Mills quickly agreed. “Of course, of course.”

Hertford spoke up. “Then make damn sure Trevor is on that
hospital study team. He has a voice, while others have lost theirs.”

Applause broke out in support of Trevor. The meeting wound
down, and Mills and the attorneys agreed there would be a study team formed
within a week. The attorney stressed the importance of confidentiality
regarding the situation. “Let prudence be our guide.” He knew if Trevor
unleashed his documentation, Cobalt Medical Center would experience its
greatest trauma.

10:15 a.m., Sunday

The nurse bustled into Roscoe’s room, smiling. “Good news!
All the doctors have consulted, and you’re being released from the hospital
right after lunch, about one o’clock.”

“Any chance of getting out of here before being subjected to
another hospital meal?”

She gave him a mock cross look. “Don’t push your luck. It’ll
take that long to clear all your paper work.”

After the nurse left, he was on the phone. When finished, he
packed a small duffel bag that he’d been operating out of, while being
hospitalized. He set it back in the locker, and got in the wheel chair. He was
going to visit Selena on the other corner of the hospital wing.

He was a little nervous as he wheeled down the hall. Some of
the internet articles he’d read online about transplants and follow-up
medications indicated that donor and recipient patients sometimes have unique
feelings and questions post-operation. It varied with individuals.

He hoped Selena would have a positive follow-up. He had no
second thoughts or different feelings, except deep gratitude to his Creator for
letting Selena live. He’d repeated his prayer of thanksgiving so many times, he
often mumbled it out loud.

He tapped on the door to room 400. A small voice said, “Come
in.”

He pushed the door back. Selena looked up from her computer,
her face breaking a smile. “Roscoe, I thought you’d already gone home. So glad
to see you.”

He wheeled in next to her bed. “Well, I can see you’ve lost
no time in getting back to writing. You look healthy. How’re you feeling?”

“Much better. The first day was a little rough, but I feel
so great. Just knowing that I’ve got a real kidney makes me feel wonderful.”
Her eyes sparkled. “I know I’ve got to be patient, but it looks like I’ll get
to attend graduation in two weeks. I’m excited about that. Oh, and Trevor has
been by to see me each day. I’m so glad he didn’t give up on me.”

Roscoe smiled as her random thoughts came tumbling out.

She asked, “How’s your foot?”

“Got it fixed this time. Small piece of glass from the wreck
still embedded, but doing fine otherwise.”

She studied him a moment. “But somehow you look a little
paler, than before.”

“Stay inside this hospital long enough, and you’ll become an
albino. Remind me to tell Rachel that she looks a little whiter.”

Selena laughed and then flinched when one of her stitches
pulled, but her laughter continued.

“I wanted to visit you before they release me this
afternoon.”

Her laughter faded. “I’ll miss talking with you. You’ve
really been a good friend to me, encouraging me, and showing an interest in my
writing. By the way I’m thinking of making a couple changes in my novel.”

“You’re not going to change the female protagonist are you?
I hate to admit this, but I sort of like her, even though she is in her
thirties.”

She nodded her head. “Well, I think you’re going to turn out
to be a very good novel reader.” She thought a moment. “I should return your
computer.”

He held up his hand. “Selena, we’ve already covered that
ground. I want you to keep the computer.”

“But my mom—”

“Okay, then give it back, and I’ll give it to Trevor, and he
can loan it to you. Would that work?”

She shook her head in defeat. “You are some uncle, Roscoe.”

He smiled. “Will I be able to see you after you get out of
the hospital?”

The question caught her off guard. “Umm…well, my mom is…is
sort of protective and quirky about…about my friends, and…and people and
all...” Her mind went blank.

Roscoe waited. He recognized avoidance and stalling. He
thought back through their past conversations, and the mention of her mom
seemed to unsettle Selena. He said, with a smile, “Let’s not worry about
visiting. Let’s get ourselves well. I don’t want to cause any discomfort for
you or your mom.” He paused with a faraway look. “I had parents once, and they
can be a challenge to a teenager.”

Selena was silent.

He added, “You’ve got my email and phone number. You know
you can contact me anytime, but you must promise to update me on your novel, or
I’ll come looking for you…mom or no mom.”

She appreciated his understanding and the determination in
his last statement. To change the subject, she said, “I still can’t believe that
I have someone else’s kidney inside me. I’m so thankful.”

He nodded.

“I’ve been wondering where the kidney came from. Who did it
belong to? What were they like?”

Now it was Roscoe’s turn to feel uncomfortable.

Shaken by Selena’s probing questions, he was eager to get
back to his hospital room, and make another couple calls. When he rolled into
his room he caught a faint scent and saw the shapely figure standing, looking
out his window. She turned when she heard the sound of the chair bump the door
frame.

“Hi, Roscoe, remember me?”

He chuckled. “Good to see you, Ramona.”

“I wanted to check on you. See if you’re ever going to get
out of the hospital?”

“In a couple hours.”

“Great. So was it the foot?”

“Yep, piece of glass they’d overlooked.” He parked the wheels,
and sat on the edge of the bed. He gestured to the chair. “Have a seat.”

She took the chair, leaning back, showcasing her
well-endowed chest pushing against her white blouse. “Why’d they put a foot
patient in the transplant unit?”

“Stormy night, short on help, had to put me somewhere.” He
shrugged.

“Who was the foot surgeon? I’ve got a woman in our
congregation who needs a bunion removed.”

“Umm…don’t remember his name. I think he was one of the
substitutes on call that night. Bad stormy night.”

“Yes, I know. I was here.”

She let that sink in.

He was feeling uncomfortable again.

She crossed her denim-jeaned long legs, with one leg
swinging, as she studied him. “You’re a very interesting man. You’re handsome.”

“Yeah, right. A bum foot and a slashed face.” He pointed.

She waved her hand, saying, “Oh, flooey. Minor flaws. Adds
character to you. Compliments your male sexiness.”

He thought, this woman is crazy. Where is she going with
this talk? “Well, I haven’t thought much about any of that.”

Ramona stood, took a step to him, leaned down a foot from
his face, and said in a quiet voice, “You helped Selena find what she was
looking for in my dream, didn’t you?” She held his eyes.

“Ramona…” His voice trailed off, as he made a zipping motion
across his mouth.

“That’s all I needed to know. I can keep a confidence.” She
straightened up. “Do you see how God does wonderful things in partnership with
people?” She paused. “Stand up a minute.”

He stood.

“I need to give you a hug.” She gently put her arms around
him, and patted his broad back.

Her breasts against him and her warmth stirred him,
unmercifully.

She stepped back. “Like I was saying, ‘you’re an interesting
man,’ and I believe you’re a good-hearted man.” She smiled. “You need a good
sensuous woman in your life that will be a good match for you.”

“Ramona, aren’t you rushing to conclusions?”

She glanced at her watch. “Got to rush to another
appointment.” She headed to the door, turning back. “I’m going to comb my
church list for available women, but I already have someone in mind who would
match you perfectly. Bye.” With a wave of her hand she was out the door.

Roscoe sat back on the edge of his bed, shaking his head.
His heart was thumping, and he felt flushed and unsettled. He thought Lord, do
women in their thirties really feel that good against a man’s body?

Ned Stringer opened the door to his cab, as the volunteer
pushed Roscoe’s wheelchair down the sidewalk. He stood and carefully eased
himself onto the back seat of the cab. As Ned navigated away from the curb, he
glanced in the rearview at Roscoe. “You look a little pale. That must have been
a rough threesome you had the other night with the doc and his wife.”

Roscoe caught his eyes and chuckled. “Oh, if you only knew
the real story.”

“Okay, enough jawboning. Where to?”

“Starbucks for a business meeting.”

“What? You gonna buy the place?”

After Ned and Roscoe had gotten their drinks, and taken a
seat, Roscoe asked more questions about Ned’s part-time deck building business.
Afterwards he asked Ned to drive him around town and show him some of his
completed deck work. Roscoe was impressed at the quality and the creativity.
Some of the decks were in some pretty exclusive neighborhoods. When they’d
finished the impromptu tour, Roscoe, said, “Take me to where I’ll be staying.”