Hardball (17 page)

He reached out for her. “I can rest when I’m dead. Come back here.”

She stepped away from his long reach. “No, you listen to your doctor. And to me. They don’t like extra bodies hanging around, so I’ll head out into the waiting room. I have to call the Cardiac Center and check in, anyway. One of my patients is unstable. Tell the nurse to come get me when you’re done and I’ll drive you home.”

Holly hurried to the ambulance bay to call Katie Canizaro. The resident had paged her while she was inside with Nate.

“Sorry to have to bother you, Dr. Bell,” Canizaro said as soon as Holly got her on the line. “I thought you should know that Lance Arnold has been on a rampage since he got here this afternoon.”

Great.
This day surely sucked. “What’s going on?”

“I was checking on Tyler when he came in, and he asked me how he was doing. I said that if he kept improving every day like he’d been doing lately, then we might be able to do his valve replacement sooner than we’d thought. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, Arnold went postal on me.”

“I’m not surprised. He’s still adamant that we not do the surgery.” Arnold had been railing at her and all the staff constantly as Tyler slowly recovered. Despite his persistent demands that the boy be discharged, Holly—backed by Dr. Rosen—had refused. She feared letting the boy out of her sight. At PCH, he’d be cared for until he was strong enough for the surgery. But if he were sent home, who could even guess what would happen?

“He’s been swearing and yelling at everybody, not just me,” Canizaro said in a worried voice. “Under the circumstances, we don’t want to have to call security. But there’s only so much the staff can be expected to take, Dr. Bell.”

Holly hesitated a moment, then made a decision. “Look, I can be back at the hospital in a couple of hours. Maybe even less. Put everything on hold for now, and I’ll come by and talk to him myself if he’s still around.”
Though I’d rather dance a waltz with a grizzly bear
.

Her resident’s relief washed through the phone. “That’d be great, Dr. Bell. Thanks. I’ll make sure security is close by, just in case.”

Holly didn’t relish the thought of having to deal with Arnold, especially at a time when she should be focusing on Nate. But Tyler had to come first, and she could at least spend the evening at Nate’s place.

She shoved her phone in her purse and headed to the hospital cafeteria. Sitting down with a tea, she tried to mentally sort through the situation with Arnold. The last thing she wanted was another confrontation, and she wasn’t sure how soon Tyler would be up to the surgery, despite her cautious optimism. A half hour spent approaching the problem from several different angles failed to yield any other result than a growing frustration. Sighing, she finally gave up trying to solve the problem and quickly finished her now-cold tea.

By the time she returned to the ER, Nate’s shoulder had been taped and his arm was angled in a sling. He was standing up, apparently joking with two nurses since they were laughing. Holly wasn’t surprised to see the women gravitating to Nate like steel to a super magnet.

“Ready to go, Romeo?” She tossed the little barb at him, ignoring the nurses.

He gave her a wicked grin. “Hey, I was starting to enjoy myself here.”

The younger nurse giggled, acting like it was the funniest thing she’d heard in years. Holly wanted to throttle her, which made her even more irritated that she allowed it to bother her so much.

But she managed to keep her mouth closed when the young nurse smiled flirtatiously at Nate. “Everyone here wanted to make sure you got the very best treatment, Nate.”

Repressing the unladylike urge to bare her teeth, Holly slipped her hand inside Nate’s good arm. “Well, you certainly seem to be feeling better, don’t you?” she asked in a sugary-sweet, southern accent. “So, let’s go. I want to get you home and in bed.”

Nate threw her a startled if amused glance. “Now you’re talking, Doctor,” he said. “But we have to stop and get a prescription filled on the way.”

Holly sighed. “Let’s just get you settled at home, then I’ll get it filled at the PCH pharmacy. I have to go over there for a few minutes, anyway.”

“Another crisis?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Less than an hour later, Holly had settled Nate in his apartment and was ready to leave for PCH. Nate’s cheery mood—which she knew had been forced—had quickly worn off and he’d grown positively grumpy. The pain had to be much worse than he was admitting.

“Look, sweetie,” she said as she helped him lower himself onto his big leather couch, “I really do have to go to the hospital and talk to the father of one of my patients. But call me immediately if you have any problems. I can be back here in a few minutes.”

“Go. I’ll be fine,” he said, wincing as he shifted his body so he could reach the TV remote. “Jesus, it’s starting to hurt like hell, though.”

Damn, she hated to have to leave him, but there wasn’t a lot she could do for him right now, anyway. He needed quiet and sleep.

She took the remote out of his hand. “And forget the TV. You need to sleep. Doctor’s orders.” She put the remote on the fireplace mantel, out of his reach.

“Cruel witch.” He tried to force a grin, but grimaced in pain instead.

She bent and gave him a kiss. “I’ll be back as fast as I can. Just try to get some rest.” Casting one last worried glance over her shoulder, she closed the door behind her and jogged down the hall to the elevator.

* * *

Holly hurried through the front entrance of the Cardiac Center and caught the elevator to the fourth floor. Canizaro, looking grim, was charting at the nurses’ station.

“What’s Arnold up to now?” Holly asked.

“He’s calmed down,” Canizaro said in a low voice, indicating with a nod that Arnold was in the room with Tyler, only a few feet away. “Two guys from security are down the hall. They’re watching, and they’ll be in the room in two seconds if we call out.”

Her resident bit her lower lip and glanced toward Tyler’s room. Holly felt a sick little jolt at the look of fear that flashed across Canizaro’s features.

“Dr. Bell,” she went on, “please be careful.”

Holly tried to inject confidence into her voice. “Don’t worry. I’ll take it from here.”

She turned on her heel and strode into Tyler’s room with Canizaro coming in behind her. Arnold slouched against the wall on the far side of Tyler’s bed. The boy, thank goodness, looked to be sound asleep.

“Mr. Arnold,” Holly began, “I’d like a moment with you. Let’s go up to my office so we can speak more privately.”

“Screw that,” Arnold snapped, fixing the women with a glare. “I ain’t going anywhere, so you can say what you’ve got to say right here. If there’s anything worth listening to, which I doubt.”

Holly didn’t argue. She had thought she should offer him privacy, but much preferred having security close by.

“All right, then,” she said with a curt nod. “Mr. Arnold, it’s understandable that you’re upset. I can sympathize with that. It’s very stressful for the parents in these circumstances, and we’re used to dealing with high emotions around here. But there’s a limit, sir. So, I would ask you to treat my resident and all the staff here with respect. They’re here to take care of Tyler and all the other patients, not to be abused or frightened by angry parents.”

He nodded at Canizaro. “I shouldn’t have taken it out on this little girl here, since she’s obviously just your stand-in.” Then he jabbed a thick finger at Holly. “Y
ou’re
the frigging problem, Bell.” He said her name as if he were spitting poison from his mouth. “You start blabbing again about doing that surgery on my boy, and you don’t even talk to me first? What the hell kind of doctor are you, anyway?”

Holly drew back her shoulders and practically stood on her toes. Arnold obviously thrived on his ability to intimidate people with his size and belligerence. She had to admit it worked pretty effectively, but she wouldn’t be cowed by a loudmouth bully.

“Those are not quite the accurate facts, Mr. Arnold.” She tried for a polite but stern tone. “No firm decisions regarding future surgery have been made. No decision
will
be made without a thorough discussion with you first.”

Holly barely stopped herself from frowning at him. Did he really not care that his son was improving? She’d seen all kinds of emotional reactions from parents before, but Arnold’s behavior didn’t match any of them.

“He’s a tough little boy,” she continued. “And if things keep progressing as they should, we’ll be able to have that discussion about a long-term solution sooner rather than later.”

Arnold’s body went rigid. “That thing with the bionic valve?” He gave his head a violent shake. “Never going to happen.”

Holly’s heart sank clear to her toes. The last thing she wanted was a possible court battle with an irresponsible, even callous parent. But sometimes it happened, and if that’s what it took to save Tyler Arnold’s life, then that’s the way it would have to be. But there was no point in bringing that up now.

“There’s no need to have that discussion right now,” she said, projecting as much calm as she could. “Let’s see how it goes over the next few days. Then we’ll schedule a meeting with our Chief of Surgery, Dr. Rosen, as well as Dr. Morris. We’ll review all the options together and I’m sure we’ll come to the right decision”

Actually I’m not one bit sure of that.

Arnold gave his head a shake so emphatic that the spiked points of his hair actually quivered. “I’m not changing my mind. I’m not going to let you put the kid through more years of hell for nothing. He’s already suffered enough. So get that through your arrogant little head right now,
Doctor.
”

His low, mean voice sent a shiver down her spine. There was no point continuing to try to convince Arnold. At least not now, and not on her own. Anything she could say would only aggravate the man even more. She had to keep searching for a better strategy. For starters, she wanted to have a frank discussion with Mrs. Crump. She’d hoped the grandmother would have visited Tyler by now, but it hadn’t happened yet.

She hesitated to ask the question, but she needed to know. “Your mother-in-law has been very involved in Tyler’s care as well. How does she feel about the situation?”

Arnold’s eyes turned strangely flat, like a shark’s. “You leave her out of it. I’m the only one you need to talk to about my son.” His gaze slid away for a moment, before returning to Holly. “Besides, the old bag’s in bad shape these days. Hardly leaves the house anymore.”

Arnold sounded almost smug about his mother-in-law’s condition, and that was truly a disturbing thought. Holly couldn’t remember the last time she’d met someone who creeped her out as much as this guy.

“Yes, I understand she had a horrible accident,” she replied in a neutral voice. “She’s very close to Tyler?”

“That’s none of your damn business, either,” Arnold growled. “Now, unless you’ve got some medical reason to stay, would you two mind getting the hell out of my son’s room?”

She bit back the urge to refuse. Staying would only make things worse. She’d hoped that a future discussion, especially one involving Rosen, would succeed in convincing Arnold of the necessity of the surgical option. That now seemed pretty unlikely.

“As you wish,” she said, meeting his furious gaze. Holly would
not
let this bastard intimidate her. “But we
will
have that discussion. One way or the other.”

“Just get the hell out of here!” Arnold yelled. “I’m through talking to you idiots.”

Tyler flinched in his sleep, but then settled. Holly pulled Canizaro out into the hallway just as the two security guards rushed up. Holding up her hand, Holly motioned them to stay outside.

“It’s all right,” she told them. “He’ll calm down once we leave. Just hang out here and keep an eye on things, okay?” The guards nodded and drifted a little farther down the hall.

As Holly walked with her resident to the nurses’ station, a chill, ugly feeling hollowed out her stomach. She’d already gone a few preliminary rounds with Lance Arnold, but the fight was far from over.

* * *

Still feeling slightly woozy and pretty much like a piece of crap, Nate automatically reached out with his left hand to open the fridge, only to be brought up short by the sling on his arm.

He expelled an impatient breath and switched to the other hand. Okay, the stupid sling saved him from the searing pain of ill-advised shoulder movement, but it was going to take a lot of getting used to.

Why couldn’t the stinking ball have whacked me in the right shoulder?

He took pride in being a lefthander, and baseball loved southpaws. Most pitchers were right-handed, as were a large majority of batters. So hitters would face righties on the mound seventy or eighty per cent of the time. That discrepancy gave a leftie pitcher the advantage of relative unfamiliarity. Added to his natural talent and conditioning, it gave Nate an ever greater competitive edge.