Every Fifteen Minutes (19 page)

Mr. Perino began rubbing his face, still hanging his head. “I want to go home. You can't keep me here against my will. I'm not a prisoner.”

Eric addressed them both. “You have to think about what's best for him.” He gestured to Perino, who by now was eyeing them both unhappily. “Please, think about what happened yesterday. Without warning, he started slamming his head into his bedside table—”

“So
you
say! Did you see it with your own eyes? Who knows what happened! I want him
out
!”

“I have no reason to disbelieve my nurse.” Eric heard the sound of talking in the hallway, which told him that security was arriving. “But legalities aside, how would you feel if you took him home and he got out of control? You wouldn't be able to help him. As you say, he could split his skull. You would never forgive yourself if something happened to him.”

“Dr. Parrish?” called the security guard, as he entered the room with two other uniformed security guards. “Can we be of any assistance?”

“Not yet, thank you,” Eric answered, holding up an open palm like a stop sign. “I think we will be able to figure this out together—”

Mrs. Perino gasped, then laughed derisively. “What the
hell
is this? Are you guys gonna
arrest
me? You gonna
handcuff
me? All I'm trying to do is take care of my husband!”

Eric turned to her, trying to defuse the situation. He wasn't about to have Mrs. Perino thrown out, even though it was within his power. “Security is here only in case we need them, but we're not going to need them.”

“Doc,
you
might! I used to play women's softball, fast-pitch. I have a hell of an arm.”

“Good to know.” Eric managed a smile. He sensed the dynamic change as soon as security arrived, if only because Mrs. Perino probably felt embarrassed in front of them.

“Listen, I want to take him home, right now. He'll be fine at home with me. My sister's husband could help if I need it. They live around the corner. He works construction.”

“In an emergency, you might not have time to call him. Your husband could hurt you without meaning to.” Eric remembered the family history from Perino's file. “Your nieces and nephews come over a lot, don't they? What if he hurt one of the kids? Think about that.”

“He would never do that,” Mrs. Perino shot back, but less strident. “He never raised a hand to me or the babies. He loves those babies.”

From the bed, Perino stared down at the floor, shaking his head. “I would never do that. Those kids, they're the world to me.”

Eric put a hand on Perino's shoulder. “Mr. Perino, I know you wouldn't mean to, but that's not the point.” Then he turned to Mrs. Perino. “I agree with you, he would never do that when he's acting like himself, but he's still under the influence of these medications. He's a threat to himself and his family until they're corrected and balanced in his system.”

Mrs. Perino threw up her hands, her frustration plain. “That's just what Dr. Rockwell said. You guys keep telling me he's crazy because of his medication. Klonopin. Where do you think he got the medication? Valley Forge Memorial, that's where. A doctor just like you, he came in and told me my husband needed to be on those drugs. And now you're telling me that that's what made him crazy. What
is
it with you guys? Why should I trust you?”

“Because we care,” Eric answered, simply. “We've been treating him and giving him the best medical care possible, and I know we can continue to help him through this transition—”

“Why can't I take him to another hospital? Can't I do that? Can't I get him transferred?”

“I think Dr. Ward has been making good progress with your husband, but that is your right, absolutely. You are free to go ahead and try to get him transferred; in that event, we would need the other hospital's confirmation that he has been admitted.”

Sam looked from Eric to Mrs. Perino. “Mrs. Perino, we really have been making progress. We're following a treatment plan. It would be best for your husband if we could stay the course—”

“No, I'm leaving, I'm going to see a lawyer.” Mrs. Perino glowered at Eric as she stormed to the door. “I'll have your license, I swear I will.”

“Linda?” Perino asked, bewildered, and she stopped, putting her hand on his shoulder.

“I'll get them for this, I promise.”

 

Chapter Twenty-two

Eric finally had a chance to sit down at the end of the day, stealing a few minutes to deal with the incident with Mrs. Perino, which he'd have to document, per hospital procedures. He was searching his system's vast internal website for the proper e-form when he heard a knock on his doorjamb.

“Eric?” Laurie appeared, dressed to go running in a white singlet and gray shorts, her long brown hair up in a clip. She grinned crookedly. “You forgot, right?”

“Right. Sorry. I can't go, I'm busy. Go without me.”

“The hell I will. We're going. You need the exercise.”

“I'm behind on my paperwork.”

“There's not a doc in this hospital that's up-to-date on paperwork, and it's never about patient care, just insurance, and more regs, and more updates to regs to put in our binders, then a notice to throw out all the binders because we're going paperless.”

“This is important. I want to log in this incident—”

“Oh, what happened? A crazy person did something crazy?” Laurie came around his desk, palmed Eric's computer mouse, and glanced at his monitor. “Bye, work.”

“No, leave it.” Eric reached for the mouse, just as Laurie closed out the website. “Arg.”

“Get up and let's go.”

“Go without me.” Eric didn't feel like running. He felt like logging in Perino, answering his email, and worrying about Max, Ren
é
e, Perino, Hannah, and Caitlin.

“What's up? You look bummed.”

“Remember Max Jakubowski, with the grandmother?”

“Oh, yes. How are they?” Laurie's face fell into grave lines. “I called her to follow up yesterday, but there was no answer.”

“She's in hospice, and I'm worried about Max.”

“The poor kid.” Laurie clucked. “He was sweet.”

“She appears to be hanging in there, but I know it's going to crush that kid.”

“Let's get going, it will give us a chance to catch up and talk about it. Come on, you need cheering up.” Laurie gave him a gentle shove on the shoulder. “You're too big a deal to run with me, now that you're number two?”

Eric smiled, leaning away from the computer keyboard. “Is this your way of saying congratulations?”

“Yes, how charming am I, on a scale of one to ten? Twenty-two?”

“I don't know, what's your ranking? Forty-something? Oh, wait. That's your age.”

“Whoa, that's harsh.” Laurie wrinkled her nose, comically. “We dropped to eleven.”

“Ruh-roh, somebody needs to work harder.”

Laurie burst into laughter. “Whatever, we're a great service, and you're not weaseling out of running.”

“I can't run with you. I can't be seen with you anymore. You're bringing down my curve.”

“You're milking this for all it's worth, aren't you?” Laurie grabbed his elbow, and Eric let her yank him out of his chair.

“I can't run, I have various and sundry number-two-type things to do. Things you wouldn't understand, things it would take you eleven times longer to understand.”

“Oh, shut up. It's a nice night, almost no humidity, and we're going for a run.”

“I didn't bring any stuff.” Eric was on his feet, brushing down his pants.

“Oh please, I know where you keep it.” Laurie crossed to his credenza, rolled open his bottom drawer, and pulled out a pair of wrinkled running shorts, which she held up. “Ta-da!”

Eric groaned, busted. “They have three months of crud on them.”

“Please, I know what a dirtbag you are. Here, get dressed.” Laurie tossed the shorts at him, and Eric caught them and threw them back at her, but they fell to the floor.

“Go away. Leave me alone.”

“Your sneakers are in the drawer. I'll be waiting outside. Hurry up.” Laurie left his office, closing the door behind her, and Eric picked up the shorts, crossed to the credenza, and rummaged around for a T-shirt, socks, and his sneakers. He changed quickly, then grabbed his old gym bag from the drawer, stuffed his clothes and his wallet inside, and zipped it up as he walked to the door and pulled it open, only to find Laurie facing Kristine in the hallway.

“Oh … hello, Kristine,” Eric said, taken by surprise. He'd avoided her the entire day, but she'd managed to catch him at the exact wrong time.

“Dr. Parrish, do you have a minute?” Kristine turned to him, her lovely features arranged in a professional mask, undoubtedly for Laurie's benefit. “I need to speak with you about the Johnston case.”

“Johnston?” Eric blurted out, before he had time to catch himself. There was no patient named Johnston on the unit. “Let's talk about it tomorrow—”

“I remember you, Kristine,” Laurie interrupted him, arching an eyebrow. “We met Friday night in the ED. You're a medical student, correct?”

“Yes, why?” Kristine's eyes narrowed.

“If you have a question on a case, you should go ask an attending. You're not supposed to go directly to the Chief. He's not your colleague, he's your boss.”

Eric put a hand on Laurie's arm. He didn't know what was going on between the two women, but it was time to cut it off. “Laurie, we should be going. Kristine, we can talk about it another—”

“Dr. Fortunato,” Kristine shot back at Laurie, her resentment undisguised. “You don't know how we do things in Wright. Dr. Parrish doesn't care about hospital hierarchy. He's very accessible and he'd never let his ego get in the way of patient care. Maybe you do things differently where you work—”

“Stop right there.” Laurie cut Kristine off, pointing at her. “I'm Chief of the Emergency Department, so I do more than work in the ED, I
run
it.”

Kristine sneered. “Anybody can run a chop shop.”

Laurie's mouth dropped open. “
What
did you say, child?”

Eric stepped in, facing Kristine. “Kristine, check yourself, please. Dr. Fortunato is entitled to your respect and so is her ED. Understand?”

“Yes.” Kristine looked hurt, but Eric wasn't about to cater to her when she was so clearly in the wrong. He gripped Laurie's arm and moved her bodily down the hall.

“Laurie, let's go.”

“Are you frigging
kidding me
?” Laurie looked back at Kristine as Eric dragged her away. “I cannot believe she said that! I want an apology.”

“Forget it.” Eric kept Laurie moving.

“I won't forget it! How dare she!”

“She's just a kid.”

“She's way out of line! What's her problem? Talk about
grandiose.
”

Eric steered Laurie past the nurses' station, where Sam and Amaka looked up curiously. “Good night, everybody,” he called to them, waving good-bye.

“Good night, Chief!” Sam called back, and Amaka waved.

Laurie tugged her arm from Eric's grasp when they reached the locked exit door to the unit. “Seriously, Eric, that girl needs to be schooled.”

“I know, and that's why I called her out on it.” Eric dug in his pocket for his keys, found them, and unlocked the door to the unit, letting them both into the airlock.

“What is her deal? I'd fire her ass.”

“We don't employ her, remember? She's on rotation, she'll be gone in a week.” Eric unlocked the outer door, suddenly hating that he was always behind locked doors, feeling boxed in by the psych unit, the weirdness of the situation with Kristine, the dispute over Perino, the dilemma presented by Max and Ren
é
e, even his legal trouble with Caitlin over Hannah.

“I wouldn't give her a good recommendation, that's for sure. You should ding her ass.”

“I just did.” Eric unlocked the door, let them both into the hallway, and went ahead to the elevator, where the waiting crowd was talking, looking at their smartphones, or plugged into earphones.

“I mean give her a bad recommendation.”

“Let's talk about it on the run.”

“Okay.” Laurie curled her lip. “I'll nag you for all six miles.”

“
Six miles?
” Eric croaked, just as the elevator arrived.

Later, the sun was dipping and the air was cooling as they hit the trail that wound behind the hospital, strip mall, and Glencroft Corporate Center. Eric huffed and puffed, struggling until his body remembered that he was in decent shape even if his wind was terrible. He had yet to go running in his new neighborhood. He hadn't been ready to replace his beloved run on his old street.

“So what are you going to do about that medical student?” Laurie ran easily, swinging her long, lean arms and pumping her strong, well-muscled legs, barely breaking a sweat.

“Ignore her.” Eric decided not to confide in Laurie about Kristine. He knew she'd just give him grief.

“‘Chop shop' my
ass.
”

“You made your point.”

“What difference does that make?” Laurie glanced over with a grin. “If I stopped talking after I made my point, I'd never say anything.”

Eric laughed, and the two old friends fell into an easy stride. He reminded himself that he had to start running again, though he doubted that this new trail would fit the bill, since it was the antithesis of nature unspoiled: a strip of paved asphalt congested with corporate running teams, cyclists in full spandex regalia, and middle-aged women walking fluffy dogs. Park benches bearing memorial plaques lined the route, as well as tall kiosks with trail maps, metal turnstiles at the end of each segment, and pushbutton traffic lights with speakers that spouted incomprehensible recorded messages.