Upon a Midnight Clear Read online

  The elevator arrived and the doors opened. Tony stepped inside and pressed the button for the third floor. The critical care ward.

  He had worked for and with Harold Risson for almost five years. Their relationship had been strained from the start. He had little in common with the rigid, conservative chief of the department. But their differences had little to do with style or social opinions. Risson seemed to possess a hearty and intense dislike for Tony. Rumor had it that when Risson retired, Tony was in line for Risson's job. Risson seemed to take these rumors to heart, making it clear that he had no intention of retiring anytime soon. In reality, Tony was not "after" Risson's job. He had made a point to stay out of office politics, and had even made it clear to the head administrator that he would never accept the position unless Risson himself nominated him for it. But that simple act hadn't eased the tension between them. In fact, just last month Risson had attempted to transfer Tony to a smaller, less prestigious hospital. Risson had long complained that Tony lacked discipline, but others, including the head of the hospital, disagreed. Fortunately for Tony, not everyone was as conservative as Harold Risson.

  Of course, Tony thought, he had to give Risson credit. He had been a trailblazer in his day. A gifted and talented surgeon, he had been one of the first doctors in the state to do transplants. But Risson was from the old school, where doctors were next to God in terms of power. They received their MD, learned their craft, developed their specialty, and that was that. Tony was from the new school of doctors, the ones who viewed medicine as part of a growing field that included holistic and natural approaches to healing. Tony liked to think of medicine as an art, a field that was constantly changing, a field in which he needed to try new techniques just to stay on top. In a field with little room for rebels, Tony pushed the conservative thinking to the limit.

  He stepped off the elevator and began walking toward the critical care unit As he approached the waiting room, his thoughts drifted back to Kim. Who would've thought that the woman who had talked him out of his plane ticket was Risson's daughter? It figures. She's probably every bit as tough as her father. He chuckled as he remembered the expression on her face when she demanded he give up his seat on the plane. Like father like daughter.

  In fact, he had not even been aware that Risson had a daughter—and the news had surprised him. He had never heard Risson, or anyone, for that matter, mention Risson's family. But then again, Risson never socialized with anyone in the hospital. Tony doubted if Risson socialized much with anyone. He was always working. Always at the hospital. Tony had assumed that the reason why Risson would never step down as chief of the department was because he had no life to retire to. Risson was known as a lonely, unhappy man. In fact, if Tony hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would've bet money that Risson didn't even have a heart.

  Still, he thought, remembering the concern he had seen on Kim's face, his daughter seemed to love him.

  Tony stopped at the window and peered inside the waiting room. Kim was by herself, sleeping curled up on a couch, using her small sweater as a blanket. The light was still on beside her.

  Tony paused for a moment. She was a beautiful woman, with strong yet delicate features. He shook his head. He felt sorry for her. This was a hell of a way to spend a holiday. Alone in the critical care ward, waiting to see if her father would live or die.

  He stepped away and walked briskly into an empty hospital room. He snagged an extra blanket and headed back toward the waiting room. Careful not to wake her, he slipped inside the room and laid the blanket on top of her. Turning off the light, he bid her a silent good-night.

  * * *

  Chapter Four

  Kim spent the majority of Thanksgiving day in the critical care waiting room. She was allowed to spend exactly ten minutes every hour by her father's side. By five o'clock that evening, she was ready to fall over. Her father had been in a drug-induced slumber all day and had not even known she was there. As she made her way back to the critical care ward, she waved hello to the nurses, who smiled at her and nodded. She didn't need to check in anymore. She had done this drill ten times so far that day, and everyone who worked there knew who she was and where she was heading.

  She walked into her father's dimly lit room. She could see her father lying in bed, his eyes closed. She sat down next to him and took his hand. She could never remember holding her father's hand when she was growing up, and under normal circumstances, she never would have dreamed of such a gesture. But every hour on the hour it was just about the only way she could communicate with him. It was a simple yet universally understood sign of affection.

  She looked down at his thin, white hand. "I'm here, Dad." She was beginning to worry that he would never wake up. She glanced up at the heart monitor, watching the regular, steady graphs duplicate across the screen. "Oh, Dad," she said with a sigh. "You've got to get better, I'm sorry we haven't spoken in such a long time. I'm… well, I'm sorry for a lot of things." Kim stopped. She could have sworn she felt something. A slight tightening of his hand, as though he was attempting to communicate. She looked up at him. His eyes were open.

  "Dad?" she whispered. She knew he couldn't answer her with the breathing tube down his throat. Again she felt the weak squeeze. He attempted a smile, but the simple act appeared to exhaust him and he shut his eyes again.

  "How's he doing?" a nurse asked, popping her head in.

  "He's awake," Kim said excitedly.

  "Dr. Risson?" the nurse said loudly, leaning over him. She picked up his wrist and took his pulse. "He seems to be coming out of it. That's good. Dr. Hoffman will be pleased."

  Kim smiled. She felt a sense of accomplishment and relief. Her father was not only waking up, he was happy that she was here. She could feel it. The nurse motioned toward the clock. Kim nodded as she stood. Her ten minutes were up.

  As she left the room, she practically bumped into Dr. Hoffman. "Hi, Kim," he said, flashing her his shy smile. "How's the patient?"

  She practically beamed at him. "He was awake."

  He nodded. "Good," he said. "C'mon back in. I'm just going to look him over."

  He walked past Kim, close enough so that she could detect the faint smell of aftershave. Kim stepped back into the room and watched as he picked up her father's chart and flipped through it. "Good," he repeated matter-of-factly. He put down the chart, took out a small pocket light, and opened her father's eyes, flashing the light in his pupils.

  Tony slipped the light back into his white jacket and nodded for her to follow him. As soon as they were out of the room, he said, "Your father's doing well, but he probably won't regain full consciousness until tomorrow. Dr. Harkavey's got him scheduled to have his breathing tubes removed first thing, so he'll be able to speak." He walked with her out of the critical care ward and stopped at the elevator. "If I were you, I'd go home and get some sleep. Hell be all right," he said, pushing the elevator button.

  She frowned. Home. That might be a problem. She had no idea where her father lived, or if he'd even be comfortable with her staying in his house.

  "Is something the matter?" Tony asked.

  "I… urn, I can't remember where he lives."

  Tony looked at her curiously. "I'm afraid I can't help you. I've never been there myself."

  "I… ah, I haven't spoken with my father in quite a while," Kim stammered. "What I said at the airport, about our being so close… it wasn't exactly true."

  "It's okay," he said, nodding understanding. He paused, thinking. "There're some decent hotels around here. Of course, the closest ones are pretty expensive."

  Kim hesitated. Her airline ticket had cost her almost all the money she had in her savings. Maybe she should just stay at her father's house. As long as… well, as long as there wasn't anyone else already livinp there. "Is he… uh, my father… Is he married or anything? I mean, I haven't seen anyone around here, but I wasn't sure…"

  "No. Your father's definitely not married. And as far as I know, he's not dating a