Her ruminations wore her out. Holly closed her eyes and drifted away, away to a place that scared her most, Christmas Eve past – twenty years past. But there were no dramatic ghosts to visit her. There were only her nightmares:
Blood everywhere. Mommy and Daddy barely visible, the crowd of hovering nurses and doctors obstructing her view. Dr. Maxwell. Why is he so pale? Why is he turning away? There’s something wrong. Aunt Mae says, “We have to go now, dear.” “Go where Aunt Mae?” My feet are shaking in my boots. “I don’t want to go. You can’t make me! Mommy! Daddy!”
Holly bolted up in the bed, breathless, her pulse hammering. Then her pager blared, making her heart drive even harder. She snatched the beeper from her pants, blinked her eyes, and read the emergency page scrolling across the screen. She flung off the covers and rocketed out of the call room, smacking chest to chest with Noel.
“You got it, too?” Noel asked, looking just as flustered as she felt.
“Yeah. Let’s go. Something big is happening.”
Noel gave Holly a gentle nudge between her shoulder blades. “I’m with you.”
That was reassuring on both levels, personal and professional. She thanked God he was there, right by her side.
Holly and Noel sprinted down six flights of stairs to the emergency department, bypassing the elevator. She needed to do something with the adrenaline that was shooting through her veins, the mystery of the catastrophe awaiting them clanging in her head. They skidded to a stop at trauma room 3 and slid on their yellow protective gowns, goggles, and masks.
“What do we got?” Holly shouted with authority. Her heart stopped when she saw who lay upon the steel table, unconscious, intubated, and with IV tubing snaking from his body. It was Clifford, her intern.
Horror panned every face on the trauma team.
“It’s one of ours,” the ED attending choked. “Status post MVA, brought in tubed, pressors and fluids on board. Hemodynamically unstable. BP 80/50, sinus tachycardia at 150, belly distended, H&H 6 and 18. FAST shows blood in the belly. Bets are on a ruptured spleen.”
A wave of nausea swept over Holly’s stomach. She swallowed back the bile burning in her throat. Guilt swirled in her head. Why didn’t she check on his arrival to the hospital? She was so consumed with her thoughts of Noel. Holly took a deep breath. It wouldn’t have mattered. The car wreck was out of anyone’s control, including hers. Clifford was bleeding into his belly, in shock, and flirting with death. Holly had to save him, now. Please, God, no!
“Get him to the O.R., stat. I’ll meet anesthesia there,” Holly ordered.
Holly and Noel stripped off their gowns.
Noel grasped her hand. “Let’s do this, together.”
Chapter Twelve
Holly stood at the scrub sink, tying on her scrub cap. She reached for a surgical mask. Her eyes pierced the glass into O.R. 6 where Clifford lay on the narrow operating table, pale, a breathing tube jutting from his mouth, and dwarfed beneath the baffles of the inflated heating blanket draped across his shoulders. A mix of guilt, fear, and determination swirled in her head. While an O.R. nurse washed Clifford’s belly with Betadine, preparing him for Holly’s knife, another nurse and scrub tech counted the surgical instruments spread across the sterile blue clothed table, shiny silver instruments soon to be dulled by Clifford’s blood. Her heart pumped clear to her neck. Steady, Holly. Clifford needs you.
She felt his hand on her shoulder, strong and reassuring. Holly turned to face him, searching into Noel’s deep brown eyes that gazed back at her from above the rim of his mask, not the reunion she had fantasized about. He blinked in rapid succession. God, he was just as torn up about Clifford as she was.
“Let’s do this,” he said softly.
“Noel?” Holly whispered.
He shook his head. “It’s okay, Holly. He’ll be all right. We’ll be all right.”
That’s all she needed to hear.
Holly whipped her head to the thump, thump, thump of sneakers hitting the linoleum of the O.R. corridor in a running pace.
Candice Baxter sprinted towards Holly and Noel. She skidded to a stop. With hands on her hips and panting, she blurted out, “I came as soon as I heard.”
Holly shook her head and said with muted authority, and in the nicest way she could muster in that moment, “Candice, this isn’t a medical student case.”
Candice shot back, “You’ll need exposure. I’ll hold retractors as long as you need. I’ll cut suture. I’ll suction.”
Her little lamb of a student had grown up right before her eyes.
Holly met Candice’s gaze. “Okay, get scrubbing.”
Candice grabbed a surgical mask.
Holly, Noel, and Candice scrubbed their hands side by side at the sink just outside O.R. 6. No one said a word. The jets of water from the automatic faucets pelted the stainless steel. The lather from their arms plopped into the sink, the foam pooling there until it swirled into the drain. They flicked their wet arms in synchrony as if expertly choreographed. Holly backed into the O.R., her hands held as high as her hopes. Noel and Candice followed her inside the O.R. Holly darted her eyes to the collapsed empty bags of blood strewn on the floor. She swallowed hard behind her mask, hiding her horror that Clifford might die this Christmas Eve.
“We’re squeezing in the fifth unit of blood,” the anesthesiologist said. “He’s tachycardic but his heart rate is slowly coming down. However his blood pressure is still low. We’re pouring the blood in as fast as we can.”
Holly glanced at the anesthesiologist. “I know. You’re doing the best that you can.”
They had just been donned with their surgical gowns when the anesthesiologist yelled, “I got V-tach! Oh, man! He’s in V-fib.”
Clifford’s heart was quivering at a lightening pace, completely ineffective in sustaining blood to his organs.
Holly reached for the defibrillator paddles and smacked them onto Clifford’s chest. She hadn’t even opened him up yet. “Shock! Shock! Shock! “Live! Live! Live!” Holly cried out.
“He’s back,” the anesthesiologist yelled. “Thank God!”
Holly took a deep breath. She heard everyone else in that O.R. exhale.
“Scalpel, please,” Holly commanded.
As she opened up Clifford’s belly, blood flooded the operative field.
“Suction! I need suction!”
Candice went straight into action, plunging the suction catheter into the pool of blood. Swirls of deep red snaked through the plastic tubing, then splattered into the suction canister. It was what Holly had feared. Clifford’s spleen was ruptured.
Holly and Noel grabbed vascular clamps and together, in perfect rhythm, cross-clamped every culpable blood vessel, stopping Clifford’s hemorrhaging. Candice suctioned the field dry. Holly lowered her head and sighed. Clifford wasn’t out of the woods yet, but it was a good start.
Noel rested his hand upon her hand, the warmth of his skin penetrating past the latex of his gloves, and through her gloves. The corners’ of his eyes crinkled upward. “Excellent work, Dr. Green.”
Holly grinned beneath her mask. “Excellent work back at you, Dr. Shepherd.” She met everyone else’s relieved gaze. “Strong work, all. Now let’s finish up, shall we?”
Everyone cheered, “Here! Here!”
Holly turned to face Candice. She squeezed Candice’s hand. “Strong work,” she reiterated, watching the thankful glee in her student’s eyes.
They finished Clifford’s emergency splenectomy. Holly smiled at his improved heart rate and blood pressure.
Candice followed the anesthesiologist and nurses as they wheeled Clifford, with his breathing tube and multiple IVs, to the recovery room.
Holly sniffed behind her mask. “I’ll be right there,” she called.
Holly and Noel stood alone in the ruins of Clifford’s surgery. They ripped off their blood stained gowns. Holly tore off her mask, finally letting the tears web across her lashes. She’d get it all out now, with only No
el to see, before pulling herself together. She couldn’t enter the recovery room like this. She’d wait a few minutes, allowing the nurses and anesthesiologist to settle in Clifford. Noel peeled off his mask. Tears pooled in his lower lids. They’d won the battle for now, but maybe not the war.
Noel opened his arms. “Holly,” he said softly.
She sank into his embrace. Their shoulders shook as they released every bit of pent up adrenaline.
“Let’s go take of Clifford,” he whispered in her ear. “Then we need to talk in the call room.”
Holly nodded but her stomach plummeted. “We need to talk” never ended well. She quickly licked her lips. “Okay.”
Holly and Noel parted but walked side by side to the recovery room, not another word passing between them.
“I’ll enter the post-op orders while you dictate the surgery,” Noel said, his voice succinct.
“Okay.” God, why couldn’t she come up with any other words?
Holly finished her report and Noel keyed in the computerized orders. Candice sat by Clifford’s bed, patting his hand while glancing every now and then at the monitors over his head.
Holly walked up behind Candice and placed her hand on Candice’s shoulder. “Get some rest. His blood count is up and his pressures are stable. Urine output looks good. He’ll go to the ICU in a bit.”
Candice nodded. “He’ll be fine now. Thanks to you and Dr. Shepherd.”
Holly smiled a little. “And thanks to you, too. You’ll make a fine surgeon one day.”
Candice lowered her head and blushed. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Miss Baxter.”
And now for Noel’s blistering news. There was no avoiding it. He had already left for the call room. Part two of a dramatic Christmas Eve awaited her.
***
With his door open, Holly found Noel sitting on the call room bed. Her heart was about to bust. He stood and motioned for her to come inside.
Well, here it goes, she thought. Holly, it’s just not going to work out between us.
But as she ventured closer, Noel grabbed Holly’s hand and pulled her to his chest. Before she could say anything, Noel pressed his lips to hers and kissed her long and hard. Definitely not the goodbye kind of kiss. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He held her tight about the waist. Everything that happened between them, and that day, had completely washed away.
She inched away from Noel’s embrace, breathing him in as their lower lips lingered, straining to part. Holly gazed up at him grasping for words. Her head buzzed. She trudged her heart into that call room, fully expecting Noel to nudge her away.
Holly drew in a deep breath, her lungs stuttering. She shook her head. “Noel, I’m so sorry.”
He pressed his lips together, paused, and cradled her hands. Holly’s fingers twitched in his touch, a feeling so foreign to her normally rock steady hands.
Noel blinked. “I’m to blame. I pushed you. The tree was supposed to be a surprise. I didn’t mean to hurt you...bring up wounds that still need healing.”
Holly bit her bottom lip. “It’s okay. Just like Clifford today, I accept that things happen...terrible things...even on holidays that are supposed to be filled with happiness.” She inhaled again, sighing out all that had been bubbling inside of her. “Mom and Dad are gone. But you’re here. Aunt Mae is here, and so is Mrs. Shale, who’s fighting to move on. I need to move on, too.”
Noel let loose of Holly’s hands and gently cupped her cheeks. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”
***
Holly wiggled closer into Noel’s arms. The call room bed creaked. Noel brushed the stray hairs away from her forehead, and kissed her on her head, then trailed his lips down the slope of her nose, stopping at her mouth. Snuggled in his warm arms and his velvet, full lips, Holly couldn’t think of a better way to wake up on Christmas morning. Clifford had regained consciousness and improved steadily during the night. His breathing tube had been removed and he even rasped, “Merry Christmas” to Holly. Her heart melted at that moment. She laid in Noel’s arms the rest of the night, dismayed, but gratefully so, that neither hers nor Noel’s beeper had gone off even once. A glorious silent night!
***
“Good morning, Dr. Green,” Noel teased.
Holly’s whole body grinned. “Good morning to you, too, Dr. Shepherd.”
Noel wrapped his legs around hers. She lay there blissfully entwined with him. Holly kissed his nose.
“Come to Christmas dinner. Aunt Mae would love to have you.” Holly set her mouth on his. She closed her eyes, giving into the heat, the good kind of adrenaline that spread through every vessel, down to every tiny capillary leaving her so deliciously flushed. She eased away from him, reveling in that loopy, but still sexy look upon his face. “I’d love for you to come, too.”
“Uh...okay...I’d...uh...I mean I’ll...uh...be there,” he stuttered.
Yes! She had the man completely tongue-tied. Dr. Holly Green, back in control!
Noel gave Holly a quick pat on her bottom. He rolled away from her and up out of the bed, his back to her. “We better get going or will be late for check out rounds this morning. I’ll meet you there in a minute.”
He headed straight for the bathroom. Holly stretched in the bed and smiled. “Okay, she teased. See you in a bit.”
Holly snuck into her “call room” for a quick stop in her bathroom, leaving Noel a modicum of privacy. She straightened out her ponytail that had gone askew somewhere between Clifford’s emergency surgery and her night dozing in Noel’s embrace.
They happened to exit “their” rooms at the same time.
“Ready?” Holly asked with an arch of her brows.
Noel nodded with a sheepish grin. “Absolutely.” Then he whispered, “To be continued at a later date.”
Holly smiled back. “Absolutely.”
Holly and Noel walked side-by-side, close but yet maintaining professional decorum, to the 6 West nurses’ station.
The nurses whipped their heads toward Holly and Noel, and the unit clerk spun in her chair to face them.
The clerk crossed her arms across her ample chest. She peered over the rim of her glasses and grinned. “Oh, well, well. Good morning there Doctors Green and Shepherd. Mmm, mmm, mmm. Someone had a not so silent night. Merry Christmas.”
Holly glanced down at her wrinkled scrubs and then at Noel’s equally rumpled ones. Heat spread clear to the tips of her ears.
She smiled and quickly nodded. “And Merry Christmas to everyone.” Holly eyed the fresh on call team. “Rounds?”
Candice Baxter popped her head around the corner. “Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re right on time, Ms. Baxter,” Holly said without any bite to her voice. She winked at Candice. “Merry Christmas.”
Candice widened her eyes. “And Merry Christmas to you, Dr. Green.”
Before parting for their respective holiday relief teams, Holly reached for Noel’s hand. Their fingertips discreetly touched.
“See you at 4 o’clock?”
Noel grinned clear to his cheeks. “I’ll be there at three.”
Chapter Thirteen
Holly hummed all the way to the parking garage while swinging her key ring on her finger. Her breath floated in puffs that whisked over her head. Clifford had made a miraculous recovery, check out rounds had cranked like clockwork, and she was going home! Holly grinned. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Noel’s face when he opened his present. Holly recalled hiding the key ring she had bought Noel in the hatbox. Now she’d dive right back into that box. Holly danced on balls of her feet, frigid, as she shoved the key into her car door. She shimmied inside of it. Her shoulders shook. Holly rubbed her gloved hands together. She gave the steering wheel a happy tap and started the car. Soon Noel’s touch would warm her from her giddy head to her frosty feet.
It had stopped snowing and the roads had been plowed and salted, making the drive home smooth. As Holly pulled into the drivewa
y, the car crackled over the salt crystals. She had just opened her car door when something buzzed past her ear. She jerked backwards and right onto an ice patch. Her heart pounding, Holly grabbed the car door handle halting her from sliding in her boots into a full split.
“Oh, my gosh! Dr. Green, I’m so sorry,” yelled Sam as he crossed the street while cradling his remote control to the toy helicopter that was now sticking tail up in a snow bank, not looking in either direction as he ran toward her.
The oncoming car stuttered on its brakes, fishtailing towards the boy.
“Sam!” Holly screamed. “Watch out!”
A horn blared as Sam skittered across the road. Holly pushed off her car and pumped her hands as she sprinted toward Sam. She clutched him to her chest. Together they tumbled onto Holly’s driveway. The boy’s rapid-fire heartbeat shot straight threw her coat, thumping wildly against her quivering beats. Holly stood and pulled Sam up with her. The woman driving the car flew out from her open car door. She ran towards Holly and Sam.
“Oh, my,” she said, half panting, her breath hanging erratic in the cold air. “Are you all right?”
Holly clutched Sam’s hand. “We’re okay. How are you?”
The woman’s finger’s trembled. “I’m, uh, stunned. I’m sorry. I didn’t see the little boy. Everything happened so fast.”
Holly rested her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “It’s all right,” she said. She glanced down at Sam whose eyes were wide as saucers. “We’re all okay. Thank you for stopping to make sure. Have a Merry Christmas!”
The distraught woman quickly nodded. “You, too.” She patted Sam on his head. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Maybe you should play in your back yard. Merry Christmas.”
Sam lowered his eyes contritely, “I will ma’am.”
The woman gave a nervous wave from her window as she drove off with barely her foot to the gas. Holly plunked the crashed helicopter from the snow. Shaking it clean, she handed the toy back to Sam.
Holly hugged him. “I don’t think it’s broken. She gazed at Sam with a partly pensive and a partly admonishing look. “Christmas present?”