"Give the man some space." Jo placed a restraining hand on Walsh's arm.
"It's okay." Dr. Myer tugged at the mask hanging around his neck. "Iyani came through just fine."
"Thank God." Walsh reached for Kerris's hand, gripping it tightly.
Kerris collapsed against his side, turning her head into the strength of his arm, limp with relief. Walsh brushed a gentle hand over her disheveled hair, long loosened from the elastic bands she'd started the day with. Kerris felt Jo's eyes resting on them, but was too elated to care.
"You have to understand how very delicate this surgery is." Dr. Myer measured his words into a recipe of warning. "This is the second aggressive growth removed from Iyani's brain. The fact that she survived the first time was a miracle. We're not out of the woods yet."
Kerris drew a relieved breath, letting the doctor's words float over her head. The surgery had only removed many of the tumor cells, but some cells remained inoperable. Radiation and chemotherapy were the next step. The doctor felt confident those could be administered in Kenya. Going home was going to be the best medicine for the homesick little girl.
"She's still recovering, and will be out of it for a while," Dr. Myer said. "I suggest you two get a few hours out of here, grab some dinner, get some rest, and come back a little later."
Kerris figured her face looked as implacable as Walsh's. Dr. Myer obviously wasn't going to convince either of them to leave until they had seen Iyani. The doctor looked to Jo for help.
"Here's a compromise," Jo said. "I'll go grab something for you guys to eat, and bring it here. That'll be better than hospital food, but you can still be here to see Iyani as soon as possible."
They both nodded, looking at each other to share a slow smile. Iyani was going to be okay. They seemed to release the breath they'd been holding together all day.
"Thank you for staying." Walsh gave her hand a quick squeeze.
"Are you kidding? I can't wait to see her."
* * *
Hours later, Iyani was still groggy, but seemed almost surprised to be alive.
"Am I in heaven?" Her eyes slitted open. Anesthesia thickened her accent.
"Not yet, sweetie." Relief threaded Walsh's laugh. "You can't get rid of us that easy."
A weak smile was Iyani's only answer before drifting back into a drug-induced slumber. Walsh stood by the bed, almost afraid to move. He felt like he'd been through battle, emotionally battered and worn down. He couldn't have gotten through the ordeal of waiting without Kerris. He was about to tell her that when Cam walked in. He saw Cam before Kerris did, since he approached from behind her. Cam's expression lightened at the sight of her. Walsh hoped he hid more than Cam, or else the whole world would know of his deepening feelings for the woman who had gone into battle with him today.
"Hey, babe." Cam looped his arms around her waist from behind.
"Hi." Kerris turned in the circle of Cam's arms and gave him a smile that invited him into their joy. "Iyani's gonna be okay. She came through fine."
Kerris was leaning against Cam with obvious fatigue. Guilt stabbed Walsh in the gut. He knew she still cleaned houses with Meredith, and was working all hours of the day to ensure Déjà Vu was ready by the end of August. Iyani was his responsibility, not hers.
"Cam, why don't you take your girl on home?" Walsh already missed having her to himself. "She's exhausted."
"Yeah, baby." Cam ran a gentle thumb over the shadows under Kerris's eyes. "Let me take you home."
"No, I want to be here when Iyani wakes up again." Walsh ignored the look Kerris shot his way, rich with confusion and accusation.
"Walsh and Cam are right, Kerris," Jo said from one of the chairs by the hospital bed. "You should let Cam take you home. You've been here all day."
"So have you, Walsh." Kerris narrowed her eyes at him.
"I'll be leaving soon, too," Walsh lied, planning to charm the floor nurse into letting him crash in the chair here in Iyani's room. "Go on home. Come back tomorrow."
Walsh turned away, walking over to the window to adjust the blinds. He hoped she'd take the hint and go. He was not above begging her to stay if she kept biting that bottom lip, looking torn.
"All right." Her mouth conceded, but Walsh could still feel the rebellion of her eyes hurling darts at his back. "You can take me home, Cam, but I want to know if there's any change. Okay, Walsh?"
He nodded without turning from the window, studying the suddenly fascinating parking lot.
"I'm gone then." He knew she was giving him one more chance to offer any other response. He nodded, stuffing his fist into the pocket of his jeans.
"See you tomorrow." He freed his voice of inflection, leaving it flat and disinterested. "I'll be fine."
A lie, of course.
He was getting good at those.
Chapter Nine
Kerris almost danced off the elevator and down the hospital corridor in her lemon-colored sundress, short, fitted denim jacket, and worn cowboy boots.
"Morning, Dr. Myer," Kerris greeted the tall, fair-haired physician who rounded the corner with head bent and hands buried in the pockets of his lab jacket. "I'm glad I ran into you. I wanted to thank you again for all you've done for Iyani."
"Kerris-"
"No, really." Kerris rushed the words, excited and steadily plodding her way to Iyani's room, in step with the doctor. "I know I'm not family or anything, but she's special to me. And we were so worried that something would go wrong during surgery."
"Well, if you remember, Kerris, the time after surgery was just as crucial," Dr. Myer said, his eyes just shy of meeting hers.
"Yes, but she got through that, too." Kerris refused to entertain any negative possibilities. For once things were working out as they should. "I know she's anxious to get back home, but I'll miss her. Selfish of me, huh? If you feel confident, though, that radiation and chemotherapy will be fine administered in Kenya, who am I to-"
"Kerris." Dr. Myer's tension-filled voice sliced into her cheerful chatter like a serrated knife. "I don't know a better way to tell you this than just to say it."
"Say … say what?"
Kerris's smile wobbled. The doctor's eyes softened, but Kerris didn't like the straight line he disciplined his mouth into.
"Iyani died about an hour ago."
"No. No, but … what happened? I just saw her yesterday. She was fine."
The world stopped making sense. Pain sank its fangs into her fast-beating heart. She felt it physically and clutched the soft denim jacket covering her chest. Tears burned behind her lids and stung her nose.
"Her brain began hemorrhaging this morning. It was an unavoidable complication. We couldn't save her. I'm so sorry."
"Oh, I … I … thought … "
Kerris didn't know what to say, to do. She only knew what she felt, and it was an oppressive grief for a young warrior angel she had known for only a few weeks, but who had left an indelible imprint on her heart.
"I suppose Walsh has been notified." She spoke into the silence Dr. Myer was affording her to process the news.
"Yes, I believe he's in her room now. As you can imagine, he's having a pretty tough time with it." The doctor's eyes drifted to the left and then to the right and then down to his watch. "I'm sorry, Kerris, but I have a patient waiting."
Kerris brushed past him, heading toward Iyani's room. She watched Walsh for a moment from the doorway. He'd settled his leanly muscled length in the middle of Iyani's bed, long legs pulled into a loose lotus position, forearms resting on his knees. She crossed to him without thought, slowing her steps the closer she got, until she was standing directly in front of him sitting on the bed.
"Walsh, I'm so sorry."
For a moment he didn't acknowledge her presence, but continued to stare down at his fist, clenched around Iyani's bracelet. She covered his hand with her own.
"Just in case." The heavy fist of grief flattened his voice.
"I'm so sorry." Saying it again didn't help, but she couldn't hold back the useless words.
"I just," he started and stopped, a muscle flexing in his jaw before he continued. "I just don't get it. She came through the surgery fine."
"I know." Kerris reached up to stroke the back of his head.
"I ended up spending the night, sleeping in the chair. I went downstairs to grab a muffin and some coffee. I was gone for only a minute, and when I came back in the room, all hell had broken loose." His brows snapped together. "And they said … they said … "