Richard Mabry - Diagnosis Death

Cathy exchanged glances with Will. He gave a faint nod. Elena appeared to be telling the truth. Now for the big question.

"Elena," Cathy said, "I realize how this must have weighed on you. I need to know how this affects your ability to function as a physician."

"Of course, it's made it more difficult for me to see stroke patients. I guess I tend to identify more with their families, but that's probably not all bad. It makes me work harder to make sure the patients get the best possible care."

"And you have no problem functioning in an ICU environment?"

"I'll admit, there were some flashbacks early on, but it's never interfered with my clinical performance, never affected my judgment that I can tell. Actually, I have a patient in the ICU at St. Paul Hospital right now who's postsurgical after an intracranial bleed. I don't think he's going to make it, and I believe my experience has made me more empathetic, better able to counsel his wife."

"Two more questions and we'll let this go," Cathy said. "First, can we help you stop those harassing phone calls? Will is an attorney. Maybe he can get some kind of injunction or something."

Elena was shaking her head before Cathy finished. "I hope a move will be all it takes. I plan to have my Dallas number disconnected, no notification of the new number. I want it to be a dead end."

"How about your cell number?"

"To my knowledge, Lillian doesn't have it. I called her from my cell a couple of times when Mark was in the ICU, but I doubt she'd be savvy enough to check her call logs that far back."

Will said, "If you change your mind, let us know. I think the other thing Cathy intended to ask was whether you'd like some counseling to help you get past this more quickly."

"As usual, my husband has read my mind," Cathy said. "There's an excellent therapist in Fort Worth. Maybe a half-hour, forty-minute drive from here. Close enough to be relatively convenient, but far enough away that no one here in town will know about any visits you make."

"I guess I'd have to think about that."

"Well, I can highly recommend him. I saw him myself when I first moved here and was working through some issues."

Elena forced a smile. "Thanks. I'll give it some serious consideration."

Cathy had the sense that Elena wasn't about to consider seeing a therapist. But things could change. She'd be certain the option remained open.

Will drew a line through the last string of words on his legal pad. "I think we've covered everything. That's the gist of the contract. I'll print it out and send it to you, and I'd suggest you have your own attorney read it over before you sign."

"Do you have any questions?" Cathy asked.

Will let the exchange that followed wash over him, taking one final stab at sizing up Elena Perez Gardner. Her brown eyes still bore the evidence of deep inner turmoil. The furrowing of her brow might be explained by concentration, but he was willing to bet there were some deeply troubling thoughts running through Elena's brain.

He tuned back in to the conversation in time to hear Cathy say, "Call me next week. Meanwhile, I guess that's it."

"One second," Will said. "Elena, we might be able to save you a trip back to Dainger. It occurs to me you'll need someplace to live. Do you want to drive around and look for a place to rent?"

It was obvious Elena hadn't thought this far ahead. Will opened his mouth to make some suggestions, but Cathy beat him to it.

"Why don't I make a phone call? I know a wonderful couple who have a spare room they'd probably be glad to make available until you've been here long enough to know what you want."

Without waiting for an answer, Cathy picked up the phone and punched in a set of numbers she obviously knew well. The conversation lasted only a couple of minutes, and when she hung up she was beaming. "Let's go meet these people. This is a very special couple, and I think you'll really enjoy living with them."

"Well…" Elena stammered. "I don't… I mean, I suppose.. ."

"Don't worry. I stayed with them myself a few years back before Will and I were married. You'll love them, and they'll love you."

Will frowned. At this point, he was pretty sure Cathy still had designs on getting Elena to open up. That's why she was setting her up to stay with his parents, Matthew and Dora Kennedy, in the parsonage of the First Community Church.

"Matthew, Dora," Cathy said, "This is Dr. Elena Gardner."

Elena studied the couple who stood in the doorway. Matthew Kennedy was whip-thin and sinewy. When she took the hand he extended, she found it slightly callused but the grip gentle. His white hair was thinning a bit. Blue eyes sparkled behind rimless glasses. Elena had the feeling she was looking at a preview of Will Kennedy thirty years hence.

Dora Kennedy wiped her hands on a plain blue apron and stepped past Elena's outstretched hand to enfold her in a hug. Dora was a bit plump, a head shorter than her husband, but her twinkling eyes and white hair matched his. "Oh, Dr. Gardner. We're so thrilled that you're going to help Cathy. And when she called to ask if we'd put you up in the spare room, why that was the frosting on the cake." She stepped back and gestured the group inside. "And speaking of cake, I just took a peach pound cake out of the oven, and I have some fresh peaches to go on top of it. Let's go into the kitchen."

"I don't really-" Cathy's faint headshake made Elena stop in mid-sentence.

"Thanks, Dora. We'd love to," Cathy said. "I suspect a few days of your cooking will do wonders for Elena. I don't think she's felt much like eating the past few weeks."

As the group trailed Dora and Will through the living room into a cozy kitchen, redolent with the enticing smell of fresh cake, Will whispered in Elena's ear, "My mother is the best cook in seventeen counties. I know we've just eaten, but I've learned it's better to take whatever she offers than argue with her. Besides," he added, "I'll bet you finish a piece and ask for seconds."

Elena noticed that even Cathy, who'd said not an hour ago that she was trying to watch her weight, took the proffered cake.

"Coffee?" Dora asked.

Elena and Will accepted; Cathy said water would be fine.

"Oh, yes," Dora said. "What am I thinking, offering you caffeine? I'm going to have to get used to your being pregnant. I need to get my grandmother hat on."

Matthew gave a "What are you going to do?" glance, and Cathy combined a nod with a brief, wry smile.

Elena picked up her fork but stopped when Matthew Kennedy said, "Will, this is the first time you and Cathy have broken bread with us in a while. And we're so glad to have Elena in our home. I'd like to express our gratitude for all that. Why don't I pray over the food before we eat?"

Elena eased her fork back onto the table and bowed her head, wondering what she'd gotten herself into.

"Dr. Gardner, we know what you did. We know what you did, and you have to pay."

Elena squirmed in the hard chair. She was so far back from the tribunal that she had to squint to see the three doctors. One man had a gray tonsure ringing an otherwise barren dome, giving him the appearance of a very unhappy and unforgiving monk. The second peered out through Coke-bottle glasses that made him look bug-eyed. The third was surprisingly young for a doctor charged with such a solemn responsibility. His dark good looks reminded Elena of some TV star. The name tickled at the edge of her consciousness, but stayed hidden.

She raised her hand like a third-grader. "But I'm a good doctor. Doctor Sewell said so yesterday. She's going to take me into her practice."

"But not as a partner," said the monk clone, his voice thundering as though coming from the cloisters his appearance suggested. "She didn't offer you a partnership. You're on probation."