Richard Mabry - Diagnosis Death

"But I think I have something better for you," Dr. Gross said. "I got a call shortly before noon from one of the doctors who did her family practice residency here at Southwestern. Do you remember Cathy Sewell? She would have been a couple of years ahead of you in the program."

"I know who she is, but we never had a rotation together and neither of us socialized much, so I don't know a lot about her."

"She went back to her hometown to set up a solo practice. That's in…" Dr. Gross pulled a pair of reading glasses from the breast pocket of her white coat and consulted the yellow legal pad she held. "That's in Dainger, Texas. She's pregnant, and she's looking for someone to take over her practice while she's on maternity leave."

"When does she need someone?"

Amy frowned. "She needs someone right now. She's less than two months from her due date. She had a retired doctor lined up to fill in for her, but he was just diagnosed with colon cancer, so he's not coming."

Elena felt hope stir in her chest like the flutter of a bird's wings. Then she saw it-the downside. "Does she want someone temporary? Is this a locum tenens situation?"

"Not necessarily. Bringing in the retired doctor was a stop-gap measure, but I think she'd like to find a younger doctor to take into the practice. There certainly seems to be room for expansion. If things work out well with you, she could offer you an association. That's a bridge you'll have to cross when you come to it." Dr. Gross tapped her glasses on the legal pad to emphasize her words. "But I think this is the best you can expect with such short notice. I wouldn't turn it down if I were you."

"Did she give you any more details?"

Dr. Gross shook her head. "She'll do that herself." She tore the top sheet off the pad and handed it to Elena. "Call her. She'd like you to come up this weekend to meet with her. It's only about an hour and a half drive. She'll show you the setup there, talk with you about possible arrangements." She put the pad on the coffee table in front of her and returned the glasses to her pocket. "I've given you a high recommendation. I also told her a bit about your history, about Mark. In fairness, I think you should give her the full story. I believe you'll find her quite understanding."

"Dainger?" Elena said. "I'm not sure that's a very reassuring name."

Dr. Gross chuckled. "I commented on that when we talked. Cathy tells me it was named for some early settler. I don't think you'll find it very dangerous at all."

"Well, I'll certainly be glad to meet with her. Thanks so much for your recommendation."

Dr. Gross rose and extended her hand. "Get someone to look in on your hospitalized patients while you're gone. And I really hope this works out for you."

It was almost seven when Elena pulled out of the medical center parking lot, and traffic had thinned a bit. All the way home, she alternated between elation at the possibility she'd have a position when her residency ended and fear that she was about to jump into a bad situation.

Who had ever heard of Dainger, Texas, anyway? She had a vague notion that it was somewhere northwest of Dallas. Well, driving directions would be the least of her problems, thanks to MapQuest and Google. What worried her more was not knowing what she'd find when she got there. Other than what she'd learned about how the name came about-and that was pretty vague-she had no idea what the town was like. But it didn't matter, did it? It sounded like a chance to get a fresh start. And she certainly needed that.

What about Dr. Cathy Sewell? Right now, that was a familiar name, nothing more. She had a vague recollection of a petite blonde doctor who did her work well and seemed pleasant enough. When Cathy finished her residency, she disappeared off Elena's radar screen. Of course, even if she'd still been around, Elena wouldn't have noticed. She was too busy with Mark, first their courtship, then their marriage, and then…

Elena felt her eyes clouding. Her breathing came faster. The shaking of her hands made the car jitter back and forth. She pulled off the busy street and into a mall parking lot, where she put her head on the steering wheel and let the tears flow freely.

"Excuse me?"

She looked up to see an older man, dressed in jeans and a sport shirt, standing beside her car. He tapped on the closed driver's side window. "Ma'am, are you okay?"

She pulled a tissue from the box on the seat beside her and dabbed at her eyes. She felt her nose dripping but wasn't about to blow it in front of this man. She gave it what she hoped was a lady-like wipe and crumpled the tissue in her hand before lowering the window. "I'm… I'm fine. I just-" She bit off her response. No need to explain. He didn't need to know.

The man leaned down to her eye level. "Is there anything I can do?"

There was nothing anyone could do. What was done was done. But there was no reason to go into that, either. "Thank you, but no. I need to sit here a moment and collect myself."

It seemed that he might be ready to start a conversation, and she steeled herself to rebuff any efforts to get her to open up about her problem. No one needed to know about it, because no one could help. Instead, he nodded and straightened.

She had the window halfway up when he turned back and said, just loud enough for her to hear. "I'll pray for you." Then he disappeared between the parked cars.

Elena entered her apartment that night to the accompaniment of pounding pulse and jangling nerves. As she crossed the threshold, she asked herself once more, "What's wrong with me?" She was an intelligent woman, a trained physician. There were no demons waiting in the darkness. True, once this apartment had been a home, and now it was only a place to sleep and eat and mourn. But that was no reason to let her grief take over her life.

Then again, it wasn't just the grief. There were the phone calls. If she'd heard heavy breathing or a torrent of obscenities, she'd know what was going on. She could handle that. Any single woman living in the city knew such things occurred. But these calls were more than that. And she thought she finally knew what they represented.

Elena dropped her backpack, slammed the door, and turned on the TV for company. The mail went onto the small table beside her armchair. It could wait. First, a shower and a cup of tea.

Clean, but in no way refreshed, Elena dropped into the easy chair and considered the mail. There was never anything good there anymore. The condolence cards and letters had dried up. She had no family to send her cheery notes. Only her creditors and the people wanting her to spend money she didn't have now accounted for the handful of mail she received.

The envelope was there between her MasterCard bill and an ad for a new textbook. The envelope was a cheap, self-sealing one, addressed by hand in block capitals using blue ballpoint. Two different stamps were affixed to provide the proper postage. The blurred postmark gave no indication of the city of origin.

Elena ran her finger under the flap and pulled out a single sheet of paper from a lined tablet.

The message was printed in the same block capitals. At the end, the writer had pressed down hard enough to penetrate the paper. Elena read the message twice, at first unable to understand and then unwilling to believe it.

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID AND YOU'LL PAY.

She dropped the paper onto the table and pressed both hands to her temples.

"Mrs. Gardner, you really need to make arrangements to clear this entire balance." The woman's voice was level and calm. No threats. No pressure. But, nevertheless, the words made Elena's stomach roil.

As it had so many evenings for several months, Elena's phone rang at about 8:00 p.m. When she checked the Caller ID, she knew what the call was about. This was the collection agency for the ambulance that took Mark to the hospital. Other nights the call would be about the balance due for Mark's hospital care or his funeral. There'd been so much expense, and his insurance coverage wasn't the best. The doctors caring for him discounted their fees, often writing off the balance. But there were other expenses-so many other expenses.