The Do-Over(58)

“We think you should be a movie star.”

Dr. Hamilton laughed, “I’m a New York boy. I’d be a fish out of water on the west coast.”

The nurse hung the bag from the IV pole and began to attach it to Stacy’s IV.

“So, you do have fluid in both lungs and I’m adding a second antibiotic that we use for pneumonia, called Avelox.”

“So, do I have pneumonia?” Stacy asked for clarification.

“Yes. In both lungs.”

“Shit,” she hissed.

“We’re getting you started immediately on Avelox, which is a strong and targeted antibiotic. Do you need me to give you anything for pain?”

“Yes.”

Dr. Hamilton said something to the nurse and she left the room.

“We’re going to inject a painkiller into your IV that will help you rest comfortably. It’s going to make you drowsy. I’m doing rounds, but I’ll come back and check on you in a little while, okay.”

The nurse re-entered with the syringe. “This is going to make you sleepy and help you rest comfortably.” She emptied the syringe into the injection port in Stacy’s IV line.

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

Stacy reached out a hand and I stood up and took it. “Tara, take care of my brother.”

“I’m not sure that he’ll let me.” She was already asleep before I finished the sentence.

Placing her arm under the covers, I leaned over, kissing Stacy on the forehead, my heart heavy as I silently prayed that this rough and tough lady would kick pneumonia to the curb so that she could get on with her treatment.

Once out in the hallway, I pulled out my phone. 6:15 p.m. I assumed Wes would be leaving work soon and heading directly here. Whether he wanted to hear from me or not, he was going to. With Stacy passed out from the pain killer, I could fill him in on the details of what had transpired.

Leaving hospital now. Stacy has pneumonia in both lungs. They’ve started her on Avelox and gave her a shot of pain meds that has knocked her out. She just fell asleep.

I didn’t expect a response to my text. Not after our conversation a few days earlier. As I reached the parking garage, I could hear my cell buzzing in my purse. Once inside my car, I dug it out.

Thx. On my way.

I was glad I’d be long gone by the time he arrived. The fragments of my heart were stabbing me, wounds so deep that I felt like the obliterated poppet. As much as I wanted to throw my arms around him and give him strength, I knew that anything but staying away would result in shattering what was left of my already fragile heart and ego. And I couldn’t let that happen.

I needed to preserve. If not for me, then for my daughter.



Stacy was sleeping during my next visit. The first change I noticed was the oxygen cannula in her nose and I hoped that was just there to help her rest easier. Taking a seat next to the bed, I quietly pulled out my phone and opened my reading app. I knew she needed her rest and I didn’t have the heart to wake her.

After about forty-five minutes, I rifled through my purse for a piece of paper and wrote her a note telling her I’d been there, but didn’t want to disturb her sleep.

Leaning over to gently kiss her forehead I could feel the searing heat from her body on my lips.

Two nurses were sitting at the Nurse’s Station.

“I just came from Ms. Bergman’s room. Her fever is spiking.”

A small, dark-haired nurse rose from her chair. “I’ll go check on her.”

As with my last visit, I knew the right thing to do was pass information to Wes.

Just leaving Stacy. She’s resting comfortably but her fever is spiking. I alerted the nurses. Shouldn’t the Avelox have kicked in by now?

His response was identical to the prior time.

Thx. On my way.





Chapter 21


Chris rapped lightly on my office door before entering. Looking up from my computer screen I smiled, then saved my work file.

“Hi,” I greeted him.

Taking a seat, he said, “You probably already know this.”

I searched his face, shaking my head.

“Donna got a call from Wes Bergman’s assistant. He lost his sister this morning.”

“Noooooo.” My hand flew to my mouth. “Oh my God. I went to see her two days ago.” The rest of what I was going to say stuck in my throat, as a hazy Chris swam before my watery eyes. Biting my lower lip not to cry, I composed myself enough to ask about arrangements.

“Service is at a funeral home in Queens on Thursday morning. Donna has all the info. I’m going to go let the rest of the team know.” Chris got up from the chair. “If you need to get out of here.” He didn’t have to finish the sentence.

I stared at the wall in my office for about twenty minutes, paralyzed. Unable to move from my chair. Stacy was gone. Her poor chemo-weakened immune system couldn’t stand up to pneumonia’s powerful onslaught. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Putting my head in my hands, I let the tears flow. My heart ached for the memories we would never make together. The conversations we would never have. This brash woman turned out to have a bigger heart than anyone I knew. Underneath the prickles was a loyal and caring woman, who made me laugh with her pointed barbs. After the Julien story (seems we all had our Julien stories), no wonder why she didn’t let people in. She’d been a sixteen-year old with a secret. Embarrassed. Made to feel cheap and worthless for wanting to be loved.