Crossroads

Chapter Four

Hollis stared at the closed door while she warred with herself about going after Annie. She didn’t like to admit defeat, and even though she had been the one to suggest they were at loggerheads, she wasn’t ready to just walk away without a fight. And that made no sense at all. She didn’t like this whole idea of a combined OB-midwife service—never mind the potential for a medical disaster, just the coordination of appointments, communication between patient, doctor, and midwife, and extra paperwork would be a nightmare. After this morning she had the perfect opportunity to call Dave, report that the concept might be a good one but the execution was impossible, and get on with her work.

The whole mess would disappear, sure, but Annie Colfax would go on believing she was a blade-happy surgeon with a limited vision of the birthing experience, too arrogant to even investigate other possibilities. Not that anything she was likely to do or say would change Annie’s opinion of her. How was she supposed to convince a woman whose mind was made up that she wasn’t who she had appeared to be four years ago, seen through a veil of pain and anger and sorrow?

Annoyed, frustrated, confused by how much Annie’s harsh judgment of her care, Annie’s cold assessment of her, personally, stung, Hollis went back to her desk and pushed files around. She dictated a few follow-up notes and practically cheered when her cell rang and L and D’s number popped up.

“Monroe.”

“She’s ready for you, Hollis,” Patty Richards, the delivery room nurse, said.

“On my way.” Hollis waved to Sybil on the way out. “I’ll be leaving once Mary delivers, as long as everything is okay. If you need me for anything, call me.”

Sybil gave Hollis an appraising look. “That was a pretty short meeting.”

Hollis paused, leaning on the partially open door. Sybil was more than her secretary, she was a trusted confidant who had steered Hollis through the minefield of departmental politics early on in her career. She relied on Sybil’s judgment and thought of her as a friend. “I knew this was going to be touchy. We ran into a few roadblocks.”

“Hmm. She did look a little overheated on the way out.”

“Unfortunately, I think we have a personality conflict.”

“Really?” Sybil frowned. “That’s not like you. I thought I taught you better than that.”

Hollis grinned. “You did, and I’ve managed to keep out of trouble this long.” The brief flicker of humor died when she remembered the pain and anger in Annie Colfax’s eyes. “But this one’s a little different.”

“Anything you want to tell me about?”

“It’s complicated.” Annie wasn’t her patient anymore, but she had been, and what had transpired between them was confidential. She couldn’t really talk to Sybil about it, even though Sybil knew most everything about all of her patients. All the same, what was going on between her and Annie was more than just medical. It was personal in a way that was unusual for her. She cared about all her patients and cared about doing what was right for them. She had complications sometimes, and outcomes less than she desired—if you didn’t, you weren’t operating enough—but she couldn’t remember a time when her judgment or her actions had created such antipathy. She didn’t know how she felt about that, and for the first time the personal and the professional were all tangled up in her head. “Thanks. It’ll sort itself out.”

“I’m sure you’ll handle it,” Sybil said. “You know, Hollis, you’re really, really good at what you do.”

“Thanks. That means a lot.”

“So go get Mary’s baby started in the world.”

Smiling at the prospect of doing what she did best, the one thing that gave her uncomplicated pleasure, Hollis tipped a finger to her forehead in salute. “Yes ma’am. I’ll tell Mary you said hi.”

By the time she got to the delivery room, the nurses had Mary on the table in position. “What’s the status?” Hollis said, holding out her hands for her gown and gloves.

“She’s moving through stage two pretty fast.”

“Pressure?” Mary had had serious hypertension during her last pregnancy, and now was the time when they were likely to see a recurrence.

“Holding nice and steady,” the anesthesiologist said.

Hollis moved to the head of the table and looked down at Mary, who was awake. She’d opted for an epidural to help relieve the pain, but she hadn’t been given any other drugs that might sedate her or the baby. “How are you doing?”

“I’m ready for this to be over.” Mary’s brown hair was black with sweat at the temples and her cheeks flushed from exertion. Her deep green eyes were bright with anticipation.

Hollis’s mood lifted, buoyed by Mary’s excitement. “I’ll just bet you are. Sounds like it won’t be too long. Everything’s going fine.”

Mary searched her face and must have seen the certainty in Hollis’s eyes because she nodded and smiled. “I feel fine. If it weren’t for the God-blessed contractions I’d be perfect. Thank you for this—I can hardly remember the first time.” She caught her breath and her face tightened with a wave of pain.

“No need to thank me,” Hollis said when the contraction passed, noting the time on the big clock on the wall. “You’re the one doing all the work.” She glanced across the table to Mary’s husband, who sat on a high stool holding Mary’s hand. His face was pale above his mask, but his eyes were calm. “You doing okay, Cliff?”

“Just fine,” he said hoarsely. “Mary’s a champ.”

“That she is. So I guess I better get to work or you two won’t think I’m necessary.”

Cliff brushed Mary’s hair, his hand trembling. “Okay, baby, just a little bit longer.”

“Easy for you to say,” Mary grunted.

“Don’t I know it. I love you.”

Hollis eased back down the table and motioned for the circulating nurse to slide over a stool for her to sit between Mary’s legs. When she performed an internal exam, she found the baby’s head ready to emerge. Her pulse jumped. She’d been in this exact position hundreds of times, and every time was still a thrill. In this moment, all that mattered were Mary and this baby. “All systems go. Next contraction, Mary, I want you to push.”

*

Annie left her car in the parking lot at PMC and walked, no particular destination in mind. She’d already canceled her clinic appointments for the morning, expecting to be tied up at least part of the day in the meeting. Now she was at loose ends and too agitated to work. She’d thought she was prepared to see Hollis Monroe again, knowing it was inevitable. She’d thought she’d put the anger and frustration and fear behind her a long time ago. Callie was the best thing in her life, and she didn’t regret having her for one single second. She wished with all her heart the delivery had been different—that she could have experienced what so many of her patients experienced—a joyous, miraculous birth surrounded by loved ones in a safe environment, with only wonderful memories to cherish for a lifetime when it was all over. She wished she could have watched the face of the person she loved when Callie emerged and felt her child’s first tentative movements on her breast. But instead of holding Callie in her arms and taking her daughter to her breast seconds after she drew her first breath, she had no memories at all—only of awakening to confusion and pain and a terrifying emptiness where Callie had once been. She would never have the chance to experience the complete cycle of birth, and part of her wept at the loss.

But she had Callie, and Callie was all the miracle she’d ever need. She hadn’t realized how much anger she had buried. She sighed and turned into the park a few blocks from her house. She hadn’t had much time to explore the neighborhood, but she and Callie often came here after school to talk about Callie’s day and enjoy the spring weather. Late morning, the park was nearly deserted, and she found a bench under a big maple. She so rarely had any time to just be. Between her busy practice and her busy little girl, she didn’t have much time to be quiet.

As soon as she sat, she was back in Hollis Monroe’s office, railing at her. She replayed the conversation in Hollis’s office and heard herself saying things out loud she hadn’t even allowed herself to think. She’d taken Callie home from the hospital alone and raised her alone while finishing school with distance courses, and then she’d gone to work helping other women experience what she hadn’t. She’d thought she’d put the past behind her, but today she’d totally lost control. Seeing Hollis had triggered all the memories of that terrifying day, and thinking about it now, a lot of her anger had been toward Jeff. She’d never had any place to put that either. Maybe she hadn’t been entirely fair this morning. She’d unloaded on Hollis, and Hollis had let her.

She was still too close to her feelings to even know if she regretted what she’d said. No, that wasn’t right. She’d said what she truly felt, but maybe if she hadn’t been taken by surprise, she might have kept some of it to herself. Hollis had been a lot more rational—and sensitive—than she had been, and that embarrassed her. She didn’t let her emotions run away with her, and with this particular person, she really didn’t want to appear as if she were unable to handle her emotions. Not that she was going to see her again.

Personal things aside, she’d been right about one thing. Professionally, she and Hollis were at opposite ends of the universe, and there was no possible way they could work together.

*

Hollis changed into jeans and a dark blue button-down collar shirt, shed her OR clogs for an old pair of plain brown loafers she couldn’t part with, and signed out for the day. She’d underestimated the speed of Mary’s labor—it wasn’t quite noon and Mary was securely tucked away on Maternity with baby Thomas in her arms and her husband giddily taking videos. She should have felt completely satisfied, but the meeting with Annie still haunted her. She didn’t second-guess her decisions if things didn’t go as planned, but she always reviewed the facts to see what she might have done differently when a case didn’t turn out well. She wasn’t too proud to learn from her mistakes—if she ever discovered otherwise, she’d have to seriously rethink what she was doing. She remembered Annie’s angry question—What would have happened if you’d waited another ten minutes? Maybe there was a way to give Annie an answer she’d believe. Hollis paused in the hall outside Labor and Delivery and called her office.

“Obstetrics and Gynecology, Dr. Monroe’s office, how may I help you?” Sybil said.

“Do me a favor, would you—pull a patient chart from four years ago. The name is Colfax, Annie.”

“I certainly will,” Sybil said without hesitation and without questions. She’d be curious, but she was too professional to pry. She’d wait for Hollis to fill her in, when and if the need arose. “I take it everything went well?”

“Seven pounds, six ounces, Apgar 9 and 10. Mother doing great. Father too.”

Sybil laughed. “Then that’s an A-plus job. Now you go on home and get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks. I’m off call, but if something comes up—”

“Then you’re still off call. Go. Do something fun.”

Hollis thought about her plans for the day. For some reason, the solitary pursuits didn’t seem as appealing any longer. “Working on it. See you tomorrow.”

“Have a good one.”

Hollis pocketed her phone and took the stairs down to the ground floor. She always walked out through the ER, stopping to check the whiteboard just to be sure nothing was coming in for her. She was as superstitious as any surgeon, but this wasn’t superstition. She knew for sure if she didn’t check, she’d be ten minutes away when she got the page telling her one of her patients had shown up and she was needed back in the ER. The board looked clear. No OB cases at all.

“Trolling for business now, Dr. Monroe?” Linda called.

“Not so you’d notice. Got any for me?”

Linda laughed and patted her belly. “Not just yet, and I have to say—hopefully not at all.”

“Are you working down here now?”

“Just visiting this morning, but I’ll probably be here before too long.”

Hollis tried to think who was doing Linda’s prenatal care, but drew a blank. Usually, the hospital staff opted for an in-house OB, but sometimes for privacy reasons they went elsewhere. “Well, I’m sure you won’t see me until I stop by to see the new baby.”

“You’ve got an open invitation. You know where I live.”

Hollis paused. “Sorry?”

“Oh,” Linda said softly, coloring faintly. “No reason you should know. I’m having this one at home.”

“Are you?” Hollis’s chest tightened. Linda looked to be in her late thirties—not unusual any longer, but still, complications were more likely. “This your first?”

“Yes, lucky me, my partner took care of the first three.”

Hollis laughed. “I hope you both have a great time with this one.”

“Me too. Our midwife is terrific.”

Of course they’d have a midwife. She just couldn’t get away from it today. Hollis injected enthusiasm into her voice. “Home birth is really taking off.”

“Well, I know it’s not for everyone, and to each her own for sure. But I hope it works out because we’re really looking forward to this.”

“I can imagine.”

“You look like you’re on your way out. Better get going before something comes through the door.”

“You’re right about that.” Laughing, Hollis headed for the exit.

She cut through the ER parking lot, planning to cross through the park that stretched for four square blocks between the hospital and her house. As she skirted around parked ambulances and fire rescue vans, she saw Annie Colfax headed toward her. She stopped when Annie’s eyes widened in surprise. “Good morning again.”

“Oh,” Annie said, almost not recognizing Hollis in street clothes. Hollis looked even younger with the sun gleaming on her dark hair, lanky and lean in worn denim jeans and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Incongruously, her forearms were deeply tanned, as if she spent a lot of time outside in the sun. Running, she bet. Maybe not, though. Hollis had a lot more upper-body development than most runners she knew. And she was staring, wasn’t she. Could she get any more off balance around this woman? “I was just coming back to pick up my car. It’s around the corner. Visitors’ lot.”

Hollis frowned. “You left it here?”

“I wanted to walk.”

“Huh.” Hollis slid her hands into her pockets. “When I’m out of sorts, I like to pound on something.” Annie looked wary and Hollis added quickly, “Wood. Hammer and nails?”

Annie laughed. “Odd pastime for a surgeon. Aren’t you worried about your hands?”

“Not really. I’m careful. I’ve jammed my thumb a time or two, but you can’t sit around doing nothing because something might go wrong, right?”

“Are you saying that caution isn’t in your vocabulary?” Annie asked, an unexpected teasing note in her voice.

Hollis shook her head. “I’m not saying anything. I don’t want to get in any deeper.”

Annie flushed. “About this morning…I—”

“Why don’t we start this morning over again,” Hollis said. Something about Annie had changed. She was still cautious, still reserved and a little edgy, but there was warmth in her eyes and it wasn’t the hot hard fire of anger she’d had earlier. Not exactly welcoming, but maybe an olive branch. Her plans to pull up the porch suddenly lost all appeal, but something told her she’d have to move fast before Annie’s guard went up again. “Look, I don’t live very far away. I haven’t had breakfast…” She glanced at her watch. “Well, it’s lunchtime now, but I can rustle up something and we can start our meeting over again.”

“That seems like a lot of trouble,” Annie said, desperately trying to work through her surprise. She didn’t know how to handle a friendly Hollis, not on a personal level. She couldn’t really have lunch with her, could she? Well, she could, but certainly not at her house. “Maybe we can find a diner or something? Or there’s always the hospital cafeteria.”

Hollis shook her head. “No way. I just spent thirty-six hours in there. And hospital food isn’t great even in the best of circumstances. Omelets…mushrooms, a little broccoli, cheese? It’s safe, I promise.”

Laughing, Annie nodded, taken by the unexpected charm. Lunch was lunch, right? A business lunch should be safe enough. “All right, Dr. Monroe. Omelets it is.”