Coming In From the Cold(42)

"And all night," he added.

She sat down on a stool next to his bed. "That's my fault. I need to  know that they're looking at your vitals every three hours. It helps me  sleep." She winked, and was rewarded with half a smile. "Now,  quick-before the room is invaded again by nurses' assistants-how's your  pain? Is there anything you need?"

Hank lifted one hand to his face, and Callie was glad to see it. If his  injury had happened farther up his spine, he wouldn't have been able to  do that. With his palm, Hank rubbed several days' worth of whiskers,  which only served to make him look more rugged, while he considered her  question. "Let's see … I need a full rack of Curtis's ribs, with spicy  sauce and a baked potato. And I need to get the hell out of this  hospital."

She nodded obligingly, even though she couldn't fulfill any of those  requests. But if he was talking about food and getting out of here,  those were both good signs. "You'll be transferring to a rehab facility  soon."

"Yeah," he sighed. His gaze wandered again, his eyes aiming at the window.

"The rehab place will let you sleep through the night," she said,  keeping her voice light. "And you'll have your own clothes. I hear the  food is better, too."

"Couldn't really be worse," he said, turning to face Callie again. His  dark eyes locked onto hers, and Callie felt the moment stretch and take  hold. He didn't say anything more, but he didn't have to. Silently, an  understanding passed between them. It didn't matter if the food got  better. Hank Lazarus was in for a shitty time, truly the shittiest time  of his life. The distance he'd come these past five days was a descent  from the highest high to the lowest low. And there wasn't a damned thing  either of them could do about it.                       
       
           



       

"Hang in there," Callie whispered. "This right here is the very worst part."

He didn't break their staring contest. "You promise?" he rumbled, his voice pure whiskey and smoke.

But Callie didn't get a chance to answer, because his parents burst into  the room then, both talking at the same time. "Forty percent chance  that he'll walk from this guy, fifteen percent from the other?" Hank's  mother bleated. "These people call themselves scientists?"

"Flew him all the way out here, and it's just more of the same," his father muttered.

Callie watched Hank's face close down as his parents approached.

"It's ridiculous," his father sputtered, pulling in a deep breath in  order to fuel the next phase of his rant. Meanwhile, Hank's jaw began to  tick.

Callie stood up. "I know why you're frustrated," she announced, folding  her arms. Hank's parents eyed her, and Callie knew what they saw-a young  doctor at a good but rural hospital. And she wasn't even a specialist.  But she had something important to say, and she wasn't going to let them  stop her. "You need answers, and you need them now. I don't blame you  at all."

Hank's mother opened her mouth to speak, but Callie cut her off.  "Unfortunately, that's not how the spinal cord works. It doesn't care  that you're desperate to know whether he'll walk again. There's swelling  and bruising, and his body is still in shock. It's not the specialists'  fault that they can't tell you what you need to know. The sooner you  push for answers, the less accurate those answers will be, okay? Hank  needs time, and we all need your patience. You won't have the answers  for maybe a year. And no specialist, and no amount of money can change  that."

Callie ceased her tirade to take a deep breath. God, she really  shouldn't have added that last part. Never mention money to rich people.  She expected Hank's parents to start yelling at her. But they didn't.  His mother only began to blink rapidly with saddened eyes. And Hank's  father wrapped his arms around her protectively.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into the silence. "If you'll excuse me."  Callie took a couple of steps toward the door. On her way out, she  turned to look once more at Hank. To her surprise, he winked at her.

Callie walked out, and spent the next few hours wondering if she'd  receive a reprimand for raising her voice to the Lazarus family. But the  call never came.