Authors: Claire Applewhite
Deep breaths, Gabrielle.
She fumbled for the pearl-handled .32 pistol, now concealed in her thigh holster.
Deep breaths. Breath one, two, three.
“I don’t think so,” Gabrielle said.
Now!
Her bullet struck Virgil at the base of his skull. Like a pithed frog, he dropped in a heap.
I rushed over to help Gabrielle.
“Oh honey!” I said. “You’re bleeding! Where’s your radio?”
“On… the… bed.” Her voice sounded fainter with each breath.
I rushed to the bedroom, and snatched the radio from the pocket in her uniform shirt.
“Officer down! Officer down! Gabrielle Spezia, Hampton Avenue.”
There seemed to be no end to the bleeding, though I struggled to apply pressure to the bullet wound. Gabrielle’s face looked as pale as new porcelain. Her teeth chattered relentlessly.
“Hold me, Tom,” she whispered. “I’m so cold. So, so cold.” Gabrielle wrapped her arms around my neck, and I pressed her body close to mine. Deep in my heart, I believed it was the last time I would do that.
Virgil shot my wife in her spleen. After surgery to remove it, she remained in critical condition for several weeks. The ambulance driver rushed Gabrielle to the best hospital for a gunshot wound. Guess where he took her? St. Louis City Hospital. The staff rallied to care for her as if she was a family member. It was during this recovery period that the details of Gabrielle’s past life surfaced—the good, the bad and the ugly, for better or for worse.
After one particularly trying day, I wandered into the sports bar where Gabrielle and I went on our first date. Barely a minute passed when I recognized a familiar voice.
“You’re cute. We should go out sometime.” I glanced at the woman standing by my booth.
“Miss Jones?”
She grinned, slid into the booth and sat directly across the table from me. “I knew you’d remember me.”
“How can I help you?”
“Help me? What is this? I don’t need no help. I just want to say hello.” Her smile turned into a pout. “You want me to leave, don’t you?”
“It’s just that I’m a married man.”
“So?”
“So, I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to be sitting with an attractive woman such as yourself, in the place where my wife and I went on our first date.”
“Hmm.”
“Please don’t say that.”
“Why not? Okay, don’t answer that. Just tell me one thing.”
“Okay, one thing. And, then I think you should leave. Deal?”
“Fine, fine. Who is this goddess that you be married to, huh?”
Finally, the lady said something to make me smile. I laughed when I told her.
“Does the name ‘Officer Burns’ ring a bell?” I thought she was going to throw her purse at my head.
“Please sit down, Miss Jones. You’re causing a scene.”
“If that nasty ass cop’s so hot, where is she, huh? She should be with her husband, instead of driving around, beating on working girls. Serve her right someone like me take you away.”
“She’s in the hospital.”
“She is, huh? Guess you be trying to make me feel bad. But, I don’t.” Something about the way she stopped talking caused me to do the same.
“Miss Jones,” a heavy set man said. “We meet again.”
“I wadn’t doing nothing.”
The man turned to address me.
“Is this lady bothering you, Dr. Spezia?”
“No, she was just leaving.” I suppose I looked a bit surprised that the man knew my name, because immediately, he extended his hand.
“I should introduce myself to you, Dr. Spezia.” He shook my hand. “Sergeant Reggie Combs. Of course, I know who you are—so does the whole St. Louis police force. Of course, not in the same way that they know Miss Jones here.” He turned to her now.
“I was just wondering if you knew anyone named Virgil Burns?” he said.
“What he look like?”
“Here’s a photo. Tell me the truth, now.”
Miss Jones bit her lip and looked at the floor.
“Miss Jones? What we got?”
“Look, I was just having a drink in here one night, like I like to do sometimes, minding my own business. And, he comes up and he ax me, can he buy me a drink? Well, I tell him, he can buy me lots of things, is
whut I say. And, then he say, do I know any cops? And, I say, most of’ ‘em, yeah. He pulls out a pitcher of hisself and the tall cop what beat me up and he say, you know where I can find her?”
“How did you know where she worked?”
“Same way she know where to find me.”
“So you gave him the information?”
“No.” She uncrossed her legs and stood up. “I was working that night. I did whut I do. I sold it to him.”
Do you remember when Gabrielle told me that she had been married once before? That’s right, on our first date. Well, it turned out her ex-husband, Virgil, trailed her all the way from Texas to St. Louis and used to be in my apartment. When he arrived, he starts asking around—never could keep his mouth shut. Told Neesie Jones he used to be a cop.
He shot a lady cop alright, on time and up close. She looked a whole lot like Gabrielle too, which, under the circumstances, wasn’t surprising. Remember the night Gabrielle knocked on my door, searching for the perp that shot the cop in the next block? Gabrielle moved into that apartment after the murder. According to Sergeant Combs, that cop was Michelle, Gabrielle’s sister. Until now, I never knew she had a sister. Suddenly, I recalled the night I proposed to Gabrielle, and how she told me about some things I should know. I guess this was one of them. There was something else. Gabrielle has always enjoyed the friendship she shared with Rosa my sister. I never understood until now. Hmm.
During that time, our future weighed heavily on my mind. A major decision loomed on the horizon. I had been offered fellowships in Oncology at Cedars Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles, and Memorial Sloane-Kettering in New York City. Both were considered first class institutions with highly prestigious programs.
After that night, I made a decision. If Gabrielle survived, and especially if she didn’t, my future did not belong to St. Louis. Of course, I fully realized that my family, especially my Rosa, would disagree with me.
They would be very disappointed to see us leave, and more than that, might even view our decision as an act of betrayal. Sounds extreme, I know, but there it is. It’s the Spezia way. Family comes first. No matter what the cost, the sacrifice is worth every cent.
But, how could I stay in a city that tried to steal the best thing that ever happened to me? I never forgot the night that Gabrielle was shot. After that, I never forgot that life can turn on a dime. Mine did. Some people believe that, if you’re lucky, true love comes once in a lifetime. After Gabrielle, I believed my card was spent.
During the time that Gabrielle was in the hospital, I couldn’t pass a red pickup truck without a glance at the driver. Last count totaled 2,435. Was it a habit, or was I crazy? I didn’t really believe I’d see Gabrielle behind the wheel, but that hope gave me the courage to believe that dreams can come true. When we were together, I felt like Superman—and I know I’m not Superman. Because of Gabrielle, I discovered that one plus one can equal more than two.
We made our best memories when we least expected them. Gabrielle showed me that the best plans aren’t plans. For a guy who planned his whole life since birth, this discovery was a cathartic epiphany.
Gabrielle’s favorite quote says it best: “Each day is a gift, waiting to be opened by you. What you do with it is your thank you note for your gift.” Each day became my thank you note to her. The love we shared made me the best physician I could be.
I thought I would never feel that way again.
That’s what I said to Dr. Skelton when it all happened, just four months before graduation. I didn’t have the strength to come in for nearly two weeks. I figured I wouldn’t graduate that year, maybe ever. And you know what? I didn’t care. I had done my best for everyone, and now, I was losing the one person who had done her best for me. At last, I found something I never knew existed, and now, I was in danger of losing it. My world would never be the same again, was what I said to Dr. Skelton.
“Yes,” he replied, “but now, you know beyond a doubt, that love does indeed exist. That is very powerful knowledge, is it not?”
“Yes,” I said. “That’s very true.” I stared out the window, and then, at his face. For some reason, he seemed excited.
“Dr. Spezia, I would like to speak to you about your future.”
“I don’t know how it will turn out yet,” I said.
“One can make plans, hmm?”
“Yes, I suppose that is true.”
“Well, I’ll get right down to it. I have been searching for a candidate for the position of Chief of Internal Medicine, as well as Assistant Dean of Students.”
I didn’t reply. It sounded to me like he needed at least two people to complete his plan.
“I believe that you would be ideal person for these positions.” He smiled, ever so slightly. “What do you think?”
“I am deeply honored, Dr. Skelton. I’d like to request a little time to think about this generous offer.”
“Of course, Spezia. I know that you’ve probably received other, more prestigious offers in more glamorous surroundings. There’s one thing I must tell you. You make a valuable difference here, one patient at a time.”
I shook his hand and walked out the door.
When I arrived at the apartment, I decided to check the bulging mailbox. Three envelopes immediately caught my attention. The first was the formal offer for a fellowship in Oncology at Cedars Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles. The second was the offer for an Oncology fellowship at Memorial Sloane Kettering in New York. The third was a credit card with a $25,000 line of credit, from a bank that, years ago refused to finance my Ford Pinto.
Of course, Dr. Skelton just offered me two positions. Out of respect and gratitude, I should at least consider them.
I heard a tap on the door. When I opened it, I was more than a bit surprised.
Mary Potts stood in the drafty hall, holding a plate of muffins covered with plastic wrap. She tried to smile, even as she shifted her weight from foot to foot.
“Mary, what a nice surprise!” I said. She offered the plate to me with trembling hands.
“I seem to recall that you liked these banana muffins a lot, Dr. Spezia,” she said. “D’Yan baked up a batch for you, seeing as how your wife is sick and all.”
I was genuinely touched by the gesture.
“Won’t you come in?” I said. “Please, have one with me, won’t you?”
“Maybe for just a minute. There’s something you should know.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Oh sure, sure it is. It’s just that, I want you to know something that’s important to me and D’Yan, anyways.”
Mary settled herself on the sofa by the coffee table and unwrapped the muffins. I had forgotten how fragrant they smelled, and even my own hunger. They were just the ticket for a guy who hadn’t eaten in—I couldn’t remember the last time I ate a meal.
“I just wanted to say, that I was wrong about some things. And, I want to apologize to you, in person.” Suddenly, Mary seemed a few years older. “If you want now, I’ll leave you be.”
I reached for another muffin. “Ooh, these are so good!” I said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mary.”
“Let me tell what I said to D’Yan before I came over here tonight. Maybe then, you’ll understand how I feel.”
“D’Yan, don’t you tell me that. Those adoption people better stay outta my way, now.”
“They keep calling me, Mama. They say Maypo isn’t mine. They say they’ll take me to court.”
“Is that all you worried about?”
“What do you mean, Mama? They’ll win. They got better lawyers than I could ever afford.”
“You just let them try. I don’t believe you’ll hear a peep outta them. They’re crooks, pure and simple.”
“You sure?”
“I’ll ask Dr. Spezia, but I believe so.”
“Why would he know?”
“Girl, he knows far more than I ever gave him credit for. The thing about him is, he’s got good instincts. Some of these young doctors, they’re smart as hell on paper and stupid as sin on their feet. Spezia isn’t stupid. He’s just inexperienced. That’s what I done decided ‘bout him.”