“Thanks for coming in,” Laurie said. With some effort she pushed herself back against the head of the bed to assume a semi-upright position. She winced as she did so.
“My pleasure,” he said. “I must say you look terrific despite what you’ve been through.”
“That’s nice of you to say but I don’t believe it for a second,” she said, managing a smile. “Did you get to talk with JJ?”
“I did, and I’m happy to report that he’s acting totally like his old self,” Jack said. “It was hard to get him away from his computer screen. I think he’s taken his mother’s having surgery in stride.”
“I’m not surprised,” Laurie said.
“Do you want to talk at all about your procedure and what was found?” Jack asked. “I’m sure you’ve been told what Dr. Cartier told me.”
“Thank you for asking,” Laurie said. “But to be honest, I’m trying not to get too hung up on the details until I get to talk with the oncologist.”
“I think that’s wise,” he said. “And, if you don’t mind, I’ll follow your lead.”
“At the same time, I’m truly glad and thankful it was found as early as it was, considering its small size, and that there was only a microscopic amount in one lymph node.”
“I was thrilled about that, too,” Jack said. He noticed she avoided the term cancer, so he did as well.
“On a happier note, what do you think of this room?”
“It’s pretty amazing,” Jack said, letting his eyes roam around the room again. “Is that a sleeper couch?”
“It is, but don’t get any ideas,” she said with a laugh. “I want you home with the children.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” he said, raising his hands in surrender.
“Let me show you something else amazing,” Laurie said. “Hand me that tablet from the bedside table.”
Jack did as he was told, and Laurie proceeded to demonstrate how she could use it in conjunction with the monitor to order meals, watch TV or streaming services, adjust the window shades, or change the lighting and even the room temperature.
“Wow! If it can also put out the trash, I want one for our apartment,” Jack said, causing her to laugh hard enough to evoke a twinge from her endoscopic incision.
“Is everything copacetic at the OCME?” Laurie asked after resettling herself in a more comfortable position.
“Surprisingly enough, it’s still standing,” he said, trying to be funny. “Actually, it was a slow day in the autopsy room other than the Aria Nichols case. But let’s not have you worrying about work. I’m sure George will be able to handle any problems over the weekend.”
“Did you call Dr. Henderson back after you finished poor Aria’s autopsy?” Laurie asked.
“I didn’t,” Jack said.
“Why not?”
“For two reasons. One, he didn’t ask me to, and two, because there wasn’t much to report. Besides, when I spoke with him before the case, he didn’t seem to be all that concerned. And frankly he ended the conversation rather abruptly.”
“That’s odd,” she said. “He was very concerned about hearing what was found with Kera Jacobsen.”
“I think it has something to do with pressure he’s been getting or not getting from Vernon Pierce.”
“You’re probably right,” Laurie said.
A little while later, Laurie was eager to mobilize. She’d done it earlier, before Jack’s arrival, but wanted to do it again. He was all for it as both knew how important it was after having surgery and general anesthesia. After disconnecting the monitor leads and with the help of an IV pole on wheels, the two of them strolled up and down the lengthy hall several times. Later they returned to the room to watch PBS NewsHour while she had a light meal. When NewsHour was drawing to a close, a nurse named Teresa Golden came in with the sleep meds that Dr. Cartier had ordered.
“I can leave them here on your bedside table,” Teresa said, seeing that Laurie had company. “How is your pain? Do you think you need any more pain meds beyond what you’re giving yourself with the IV piggyback?”
“I think I’m doing okay,” she said.
“If not, just let us know,” Teresa said brightly as she checked Laurie’s surgical drain. “Very little drainage. That’s terrific.”
After Teresa left, Laurie commented on how warm and professional the nursing staff was, which was making the experience far more tolerable than when she’d had surgery at the Manhattan General years previously.
Following NewsHour, a show called NYC-ARTS came on. She and Jack watched it with half an eye, as they continued to do with the next show, which dealt with NYC metropolitan news. Mostly they talked about Emma’s progress and JJ’s upcoming psychologist evaluation, as well as their mutual concern about the amount of time JJ was spending playing computer games. A little after nine, Laurie began to feel exhausted.
“I’m afraid I’m running out of steam,” she said as she switched off the monitor. She took several deep breaths, as she was doing frequently, knowing how important it was.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Jack said.
“I’m positive,” Laurie said. “I’m doing just fine. With my pain meds, these sleeping pills, and having had general anesthesia, I’m going to sleep like a baby.”
“When do you think you might want to come home?” he asked.
“I’m going to leave that up to Dr. Cartier,” she said. “She said she’d be making early-morning rounds. I’ll text you as soon as I see her and we talk about it.”
“Fair enough,” Jack said. He stood up, handed her the paper cup containing the sleeping pills. He poured her a glass of water and handed that to her as well. When she was finished, he took both back and replaced them on the bedside table. He then bent over and gave her another tentative hug. She hugged him back but winced with the discomfort caused by using her arms.
“I’ll keep my phone with me all night in case you want to call or text for any reason,” Jack said. “Try to have a good night’s sleep.”
“I’m sure I will.” Laurie managed to give a little wave before he turned and headed for the door.
Chapter 41
May 11th
9:25 P.M.
To avoid the crowds waiting for cabs and rideshares outside the hospital, Jack headed south on foot. As he approached the OCME building, he remembered his call earlier to Bart Arnold. He’d been open about expressing his frustration over not having gotten Madison Bryant’s Bellevue hospital records, but then had left before they had most likely arrived. Realizing there was no reason to rush home as the children would be already in bed, Jack decided to go up to his office. With everything that had happened that day, he felt jazzed up and knew it was going to be a long time before he’d be able to fall asleep.
He entered the building through the 30th Street receiving dock where bodies were brought in, waved to the guard manning his security desk and then to the two evening-shift mortuary techs in their office. Taking the back elevator, he went up to the floor where he and the rest of the medical examiners had their offices. As he descended the hallway, the sound of his heels echoed loudly. Except for the basement and the radio the guard had, the building was deathly quiet and seemed completely deserted.
The moment he turned on the light in his office, he saw the hard copy of Madison Bryant’s Bellevue hospital records front and center on his desk. As usual, Bart Arnold had been true to his word. Sitting down, Jack opened the record and started reading. There was a lot of material, beginning with transcripts of the EMTs’ communications with the Bellevue trauma team when they first arrived on scene at the subway station. Again, Jack was impressed with how lucky Madison was to have survived the initial fall onto the tracks and being passed over by the train, as well as to have avoided any contact with the highly electrified third rail.