An Engagement for Two Page 5
“Yes.” She chose her words carefully in order to explain the situation to him and not cause any undue confusion. “Fortunately for her, your mother’s appendix apparently wasn’t removed when she was six.”
That didn’t sound right at all to him, Jeff thought. Did the doctor have a macabre sense of humor? “What do you mean, fortunately?”
“Well, if your mother’s appendix hadn’t been there,” she told him, “then we might not have ever known about the existence of the tumor until it was too late to do anything about it.”
“Tumor?” he asked. It was all beginning to sound frighteningly surreal to him. “There’s a tumor?”
She nodded. “It appears to be benign, but we won’t know until we do a biopsy on it.” She went on to paint a picture for him. “If the appendix hadn’t been there, the tumor might have continued growing until it just burst on its own. The appendix got in its way, and the tumor was pressing on it. That’s what caused your mother all that pain. We’re going to be removing all of it, the tumor and her appendix.”
He struggled to come to grips with the idea—and its possible implication. “Will this affect her in any way?” he asked.
“You mean the operation? Yes. Once it’s over, the pain’ll be gone,” she told him. And then she smiled. “Your mother will be up on her feet and back to her old self in six weeks—or less.”
That sounded almost as impossible as his mother having a tumor. “Really?” he questioned.
“Really,” she assured him. “The whole thing sounds worse than it is, trust me.”
He found himself doing just that. Which raised another question. “Who’s going to be doing the surgery?” Jeff asked.
“Well, unless you have someone in mind who you want me to contact,” Mikki began, waiting. When he didn’t say anything, she went on to say, “It’ll be me.”
“Oh, I want you,” Jeff told her with feeling. Then realizing how that had to sound, he tried to correct the impression. “I mean—”
Mikki laughed, and he caught himself thinking that the sound was almost endearing.
“I know what you mean, Mr. Sabatino, and I appreciate the vote of trust,” she told him. Mikki glanced at her watch. “This is going to take a couple of hours once we get her ready and wheel her into the OR. After that, she’ll be in recovery for another hour. From there, she’ll be taken up to her room.
“If she responds like everyone else, your mother will be in and out of consciousness for the rest of the day, so I suggest that if you want to go to work, you do so without any guilt. Your mother’s not going to be fully awake until sometime tomorrow morning, if not later.”
“Is my mother still conscious now?” Jeff asked.
Mikki nodded. “We haven’t given her anything to sedate her yet. So if you want to say a few encouraging words to her before we put her under, now would be the time to do it. They’re getting the OR ready for her.”
He heard something else in the woman’s voice besides a recitation of the chain of events. “Then it is urgent,” he asked her.
She didn’t want to frighten him unnecessarily, but she didn’t want to be evasive, either. Mikki offered him a smile. “Let’s just say—without being melodramatic—that you brought your mother in just in time.”
He was both relieved and stunned by the news. “Does she know?”
“I believe in keeping my patients informed, but not in scaring them,” she replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to call my office to tell them I won’t be in for a while—and then I have some less than fashionable blue scrubs to put on.” She turned to go, but paused for a moment. She sensed that the tall, handsome man standing in the corridor needed a little reassuring. “She’s going to be fine, Mr. Sabatino.”
“Jeff,” he corrected as he took in a steadying breath, thinking of the bullet they’d just been dodged. “Call me Jeff.”
Mikki nodded. “Okay. Are you planning on staying here until your mother’s in recovery—Jeff?”
He knew he wouldn’t be able to focus if he went anywhere right now. “Yes, I am.”
“Then I’ll send someone out to let you know how it’s going,” Mikki promised.
“That’s very kind of you,” he told her.
“Practical,” she corrected. “Otherwise, your imagination might just run away with you and then I might have another patient on my hands.”
The moment the doctor left, Jeff went in to see his mother.
“Jeffrey, she’s operating on me,” Sophia lamented the second she saw him.
“I know that, Mom,” he said kindly.
She looked somewhat surprised—and perhaps even upset. “And you’re all right with this?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Mom,” Jeff told her.
Sophia fixed the drooping shoulder of her hospital gown and drew herself up. “I think we need a second opinion.”
“This from the woman who didn’t want any opinion,” Jeff remarked. He took her hand in his. Hers was icy to the touch. “Mom, you’re just stalling. You know that a second opinion is most likely going to be the same as the one you just received.”
“Maybe not,” she cried.
It had never occurred to him until just now how much his mother looked like a little girl. A frightened little girl.
Closing his hand over hers, he assured her, “It’s going to be fine, Mom. When you wake up, the pain’ll be gone.”
“Ha! You’ve obviously never had an operation,” his mother said.
Jeff inclined his head, giving his mother her due. “Okay, let me rephrase that. The pain that brought you here will be gone.”
Sophia snorted dismissively. “Trading in one pain for another doesn’t exactly put me ahead of the game, you know.”
“It does if the first pain can eventually kill you,” he pointed out. The nurse entered just then, saving him. “They’re going to get you ready for surgery now, Mom.” He saw the clear panic in her gray eyes. “I’m going to be right here, waiting for you. I’ll see you when this is all over,” he promised.
“You hope,” Sophia said.
“I know,” he corrected. “Now, behave yourself,” he told her, giving her hand a squeeze.
“Sir, we have to begin,” the nurse gently prodded.
Releasing his mother’s hand, he stepped back, about to leave.
“Tell Tina and Robert I love them,” his mother suddenly said.
“You’ll tell them yourself after this is over,” he told her patiently.
“And if this doesn’t turn out well, tell them that I forgave you,” she called after him.
Jeff suppressed a sigh. “I’ll tell them, Mom.”
Chapter Five
Jeff felt antsy enough to want to set up camp right outside the operating room doors.
Since that wasn’t really possible without having someone from security come to remove him, he settled on the nearby lounge.
Initially.
He really had intended on waiting there until his mother’s operation was over. But despite his calm outward demeanor, when it came to being concerned about someone in his family, Jeff’s patience tended to wither.
As a compromise, he settled for pacing in the lounge—and then up and down the corridor—slowly, doing his best to kill time and to get the antsy feeling under control.
For as long as Jeff could remember, his mother had been the family rock, the one everyone else turned to when they needed support. She wasn’t supposed to be the one who needed support, but well, here they were.
Damn, but he hoped he’d done the right thing, bringing her to this doctor. He had a great deal of faith in Theresa Manetti, and in a roundabout fashion, Theresa had recommended this doctor.
But the doctor who had inadvertently misdiagnosed his father’s condition had been recommended by a friend of his father’s,
and that had certainly turned out badly.
What if, well-meaning though she seemed, this doctor wound up botching the surgery she was about to perform on his mother?
He just couldn’t seem to shake the sinking feeling that was snaking its way through him, undermining his confidence.
When his cell phone began to vibrate, he all but yanked it out of his pocket, fearing the worst. All he needed now was an emergency at work. He felt that he’d left the restaurant in capable hands, but there was always a chance that something unforeseeable would happen.
Jeff debated not answering his phone, just turning the cell off and slipping it back into his pocket. But the next moment, he acknowledged that was being cowardly. It wasn’t the way he handled things or shouldered responsibilities.
Making himself look at the cell phone screen, he recognized the caller ID. Relieved and somewhat puzzled, he accepted the call.
“Theresa?” he asked.
“Hello, Jeff,” he heard his former boss say. “I hope you don’t mind my calling you.”
“No, of course not.” He just thought it rather odd—Theresa wasn’t in the habit of calling him to chat. “Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked.
“No,” she answered. Maybe it was his imagination, but Theresa sounded rather uncomfortable. “Actually, I’m just calling to see how everything went with your mother’s appointment with that doctor I told you about.”
Jeff glanced over toward the OR doors. He’d seen several hospital staff members go in after his mother had been wheeled into the operating room, but there’d been no one going in or out for the last forty minutes. He told himself that was a good sign, but the truth was, he didn’t know.
“Well, I’m at the hospital,” he answered rather guardedly. “My mother’s being operated on right now.”
He heard Theresa stifle a gasp. “My goodness. Jeff, do you want me to come down there to wait with you?” she asked.
The offer heartened him. Again, he couldn’t help thinking that Theresa Manetti was certainly like another mother to him.
“No, that’s okay. There’s no need for you to come. It shouldn’t be that much longer.” Unless he thought of it in seconds, because time was passing as if it was being dragged by an arthritic turtle with a pronounced limp.
“You’re sure?” Theresa didn’t sound convinced.
“I’m sure,” he told her with as much conviction as he could muster under the circumstances.
“What kind of an operation is it?” Theresa asked.
“It’s kind of involved,” he admitted. At the moment, he really didn’t want to get into it, or explain the details. “But the doctor seems confident that my mother’s going to be all right.” He sighed, looking back at the OR doors again. And then he shared what had been weighing on his mind. “The doctor said we got her here just in time.”
“That’s all your doing, dear,” Theresa assured him. “If I remember correctly, you once told me that your mother can be a very stubborn woman.”
“Well, yes, she is,” Jeff admitted, although right now he didn’t want to say anything that sounded the least bit negative about his mother.
He felt somewhat disloyal for having voiced that opinion. After all, he knew that she was only trying her best. It hadn’t been easy for her, raising three kids as a single mother.
Theresa laughed softly. Then, as if reading his mind, she assured him, “All the best mothers are stubborn. Nothing wrong with that. Let me know how it goes, dear. Please call me if there’s anything I can do.”
“I will,” he promised, “And thanks for calling.”
“My pleasure, dear. Remember, call me,” Theresa repeated just before she ended the call.
Sighing, Jeff tucked the cell phone back into his pocket.
There were a dozen things he needed to see to and a whole host of arrangements he had promised other people that he’d get to at his restaurant. He had a more than able crew at Dinner for Two, but it was up to him to keep everything running smoothly.
However, it felt as if everything had ground to a halt the moment he watched his mother being wheeled into the operating room. He really wasn’t up to focusing his attention on anything else.
Parents were supposed to live forever. At least the good ones were, he thought as the corners of his mouth quirked in a smile. But his father had died all those years ago, and now his mother might be in danger of joining him.
No, damn it, he wasn’t going to think like that. He’d gotten her here in time and Dr. McKenna seemed like she was very capable, so he was just going to stop entertaining these negative thoughts, stop feeling as if he was on the cusp of becoming an orphan and concentrate on the fact that his mother was going to make it through this operation and get well.
Jeff slipped his hand into his pocket and curled it around his phone. Contact with the phone made him debate calling his brother and sister to tell them what was going on. They were a close family, and he knew they wouldn’t take kindly to being kept in the dark.
But what good would it do to make them worry? Robert was at a business meeting in Los Angeles today, and Tina had small kids. She couldn’t rush over to the hospital with them, and finding a sitter would take a while. By the time either one of his siblings could get here, their mother would be out of surgery and most likely out of recovery, as well.
He’d rather be the bearer of good news than to be the one to lay worry on their doorsteps.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jeff saw one of the operating room doors open, and he was instantly alert. He held his breath as a nurse wearing scrubs and a surgical mask approached him.
“Are you Mr. Sabatino?” the nurse asked, peering up at him.
If he were any tenser, Jeff thought he’d probably snap in half. Automatically, he braced himself for bad news. “Yes, I am.”
“Dr. McKenna sent me out to tell you that everything is going according to schedule and that your mother is doing well. The operation’s going to take about another hour, and the doctor suggested that you might want to get some coffee from the cafeteria downstairs. She said to tell you that the coffee from the vending machines up here’ll kill you.” The woman’s eyes crinkled above her mask as she smiled.
Jeff almost laughed out loud at the comment. Tension began to drain out of him.
“Tell the doctor thank you,” he said, “but I’ll take my chances. I’m staying right here until she’s finished operating on my mother.”
The nurse nodded, giving no indication that his answer surprised her.
“I’ll let her know.” Her eyes crinkled slightly again above the surgical mask and she turned to walk back into the operating room.
* * *
He felt like a marathon runner who had just passed the halfway point.
He knew he should sit down, that marching up and down the length of the corridor was annoying to anyone who might be looking out of the doors located along the path he was taking, but he was just too restless to remain still for more than a couple of minutes at a time.
Finally, after what felt like forever plus twenty minutes, as he turned on his heel to retrace his steps past the OR doors for what seemed like the thousandth time, he saw them opening. This time, it was the doctor who came out.
Technically, because of the surgical mask, it could have been anyone in those blue scrubs, but he knew it was Dr. McKenna.
No one else had clear-water eyes quite that shade of blue.
Jeff cut the distance between them in less time than it took to think about it.
“Is the operation over?” he asked, suddenly afraid to ask the real question that had been preying on his mind for the last two hours.
“Yes,” Mikki replied as she removed her mask. “And your mother, I’m happy to say, came through it with flying colors.”
“Was it a tumor?” he asked, bracing himself
for the worst while praying for the best.
“Yes, it was,” Mikki replied. “But the preliminary biopsy said it was benign.”
“Not malignant?” he asked, wanting to be very, very sure.
Mikki smiled. “Not malignant.”
The dam gates opened and Jeff felt relief flooding through him. Overjoyed, he wasn’t completely aware of what he did next. Wasn’t aware of throwing his arms around the woman who had come bearing good news until he suddenly realized he was doing it.
He felt her blue-clad body against his as he spun her around in a circle.
The very next second, common sense made a belated appearance, and he quickly set her down again.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
What he meant to tell Mikki was that he hadn’t meant to get so personal, or so exuberant because he was afraid he’d insulted her.
Mikki absolved him of any guilt before he could get the words out.
“That’s all right. That spin was probably the most fun I’ve had in a month,” she told him with a laugh. Gaining her bearings, Mikki went on to say, “As I told you earlier, your mother’s going to be in recovery for an hour, then they’ll take her up to her room. You’re free to go visit her then, but she’s probably going to be asleep for most of that time.”
He remembered her telling him that before and nodded. But he was more interested in something else she’d said.
“When I asked you about the tumor, you mentioned the word preliminary,” he began, wanting to have everything spelled out for him. It was important that he didn’t misunderstand or get his facts mixed up.
By the expression on her face, he could tell that the doctor knew what he was thinking. “We always like to double-check results to make sure we haven’t missed anything, but right now, it’s all looking very good, Mr. Sabatino.”
“Jeff,” he reminded her.
“Right. Jeff,” she repeated with a smile, just happy that she was able to give the man good news.
For now he had just one more question. “And was my mother mistaken about her appendix having been removed years ago? I mean, it didn’t grow back or anything, right?” he asked. “Just curious,” he added, not wanting her to think that he was in any way doubting this woman who, in his opinion, had done the impossible and gotten his mother into the operating room.