The Best of Us (Sullivan's Crossing #4)(43)

“This must be a big one,” Cal said.

“Very big,” she said. “This one carries a hefty risk for the patient but there’s no good alternative. I’m going to get a good sleep tonight. I’ll be in surgery all day.”

“Will you call me when you’re out? And yes, I can come up with Elizabeth. How about Thursday afternoon? Or would Friday morning be better?”

“I’ll be busy Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. I’m working at the clinic Thursday afternoon and won’t be late. We could have dinner, go to the park for a while, maybe put on a movie for Elizabeth and curl up while she watches it. I’ll go to the hospital two or three times on Friday and Saturday, and if all is stable we can come home Sunday morning.”

“You’re operating on Maia, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t say that,” Maggie said.

“It’s all over town,” he said. “I didn’t know it would be happening so fast.”

“It’s not that fast. It’s been weeks.”

“I heard they went to UCLA and the Mayo Clinic,” Cal said.

“We have some excellent surgeons,” she said, though not boastfully. She was incredibly glad and relieved they chose her, though the doctors they had interviewed with at UCLA and Mayo were excellent. But she’d done this surgery quite often, with good results. The position of this tumor, between the skull and the brain in the temporal lobe region, was very dicey but at least operable. Most surgeons would give her a fifty percent chance of a full recovery. Maggie, like her colleagues in LA and Scottsdale, said eighty percent. Ninety-five, Maggie secretly thought. But odds were so meaningless if you fell in that five percent. Or how about the two percent who wouldn’t survive?

The studies showed a neuronal glial tumor; the surgery could take many hours. The recovery would be difficult and painful; the length of time in physical therapy would depend entirely on how the surgery went, on how much damage the tumor or its removal caused. No matter how many CT scans, EEGs and MRIs they did, she wouldn’t know what was really going on until she got in there. But her instincts were good; she was armed with knowledge and experience.

“How do you like her chances?” Cal asked.

“If I don’t think it will go well, I look around for a better surgeon. There are cases I don’t do because I’m not the best person to do them. I wouldn’t hesitate on this, but there are still things I can’t control. Like damage the tumor caused before we get to it, something no one could have prevented.” Maggie sighed. “Do you know her?”

Cal just shook his head. Even though it was a small town, they didn’t all run in the same circles. He was a lawyer. If they hadn’t needed his legal help, he wasn’t likely to know them.

“She’s an angel,” Maggie said. And the way the rest of her life turned out could have a lot to do with how good Maggie was.

“You’re the best,” Cal said. “That’s what I hear from a lot of people you work with—you’re the best. We’ll come up to Denver in time for dinner Thursday. But call me when you’re out of surgery tomorrow.”

“I will. My mind is very busy and running all over the place. I’m seeing renderings of the brain from every angle and it makes me seem morose or worried. I’m only preoccupied. When I get up tomorrow morning, I’ll be excited and the adrenaline will be high.”

“I know,” he said.

“And when I’m done...” She’d be wiped out, but she’d get a little food, power nap, check her patient through the night. She probably wouldn’t leave the hospital until early morning, then she’d come right back. “My hair is going to be so ugly.”

He laughed. As if she ever gave much of a damn about things like hair. “Come here,” Cal said. “Kiss me. Then go. Call or text to tell me you’re there.”

She gave him a lingering kiss. “What would I do without you?”

“You’re never going to know.”

Elizabeth came toddling into their bedroom. “Mama! Mama! Wight now!”

Maggie covered her little face with kisses. This was their routine. Maggie was one of several surgeons partnered with neurologists, physical and occupational therapists in the Denver practice. She spent three or four days a week in Denver. On easy weeks she could drive ninety minutes to Denver, early on the first day, and head home at the end of the third day. On more demanding weeks, like this one, she would spend five nights, often including pulling call in the emergency room. But this she was more than willing to do because there were a few things that made her heart beat. Her husband, her daughter, her profession. And she wanted to raise Elizabeth in the pristine beauty of the Rockies.

When Finn got home from school Rob was ready to go. They had both packed small bags. Finn argued that he could do this on his own but Rob couldn’t allow him to make this emotional journey alone. Sid and Dakota were in place to hold down the forts, both the pub and the home front, where Sean would be. Sid was tending bar and helping the assistant manager, Kathleen, while Dakota was at the house. They’d stay overnight with Sean.

“There’s a lasagna and salad ready in the refrigerator,” Rob said. “Try to convince Sean to eat some of his salad and don’t take it personally if you fail in that.”

“You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble, man,” Dakota said. “I can cook! I feed Sid all the time.”