LEXIE
“You can’t just bail midway through the morning. Do you have any idea how much disruption that caused?”
I figured Oliver was going to be annoyed, but I didn’t expect him to be angry. When I arrive at the clinic, he all but drags me into his office and lets loose.
“My sister was taken into emergency surgery—” I try to explain, but he cuts me off.
“Were you performing the surgery?”
I know I need to tread lightly, but Oliver’s sarcasm leaves me defensive, and I scowl at him.
“It was a C-section. She needed someone with her.”
“This is the sister who broke into the meds room two years ago, right?” I look away, and Oliver sighs. “So what you’re saying is, two years later, your boundaries with her are no better than they were.”
This hits a sore spot, and I wince but then I blurt, “I need to take some time off. She’s going into rehab and she has a newborn. She needs me to help care for it, or it’ll go into the foster system.”
Oliver stares at me incredulously for a moment, then he sighs heavily and rubs his forehead.
“Jesus, Lexie. Are you seriously going to ask for time off after you pulled that shit this morning?”
“There’s no one else, Olly.” I’m pleading now, and I should be embarrassed, but all I can think of is Annie and the baby and that awful moment this morning when I dismissed her chosen name. I can’t let my sister down again. I won’t. “I have to do this.”
“I’m not going to grant the leave, and I’m doing it for your own good.”
“But—”
“Don’t but me, Lexie. If you really need time off to babysit your sister, resign.”
That last word hangs in the air between us—a threat that I’m not sure Oliver is entirely serious about. The look I give him is half pleading, half incredulous.
“Don’t do this, Olly.”
He shakes his head—he’s warming to the idea himself, I can tell by the gleam in his eyes when he leans back in his chair and surveys me. Oliver Winton is actually the best boss I’ve ever had—and I’ve learned so much from him in the last three years. But I’m well aware that I need him more than he needs me. I’m sure he likes me, though, and we do work well together. Surely he won’t make me leave.
Surely.
Hopefully.
“I can’t have an unreliable physician on the team,” he says. “Your patients need to be your priority. If they aren’t, then you should leave.”
“I haven’t taken a sick or a personal day in two years.” I’m getting defensive again, and my words are sharp. “These are exceptional circumstances. I’m asking for just a few weeks to figure all of this out—the baby will be in the NICU for some time. After that, I need to get her settled in at my place. Then it will be business as usual, I give you my word.”
“No, then your sister will come out of rehab and you’ll be taking every second day off to go searching under all of the bridges in town to see if she’s overdosed.”
“How dare you—” I gasp, but he cuts me off with an impatient wave of his hand.
“I’m trying to help you. You know what codependency is, right? You and your sister are a textbook case. You’ll let her waltz in and out of your life and blow it up whenever it suits her forever if someone doesn’t force you to reevaluate things. I don’t want you to go, Lexie—the patients love you, and you’re an excellent physician. But... I can hire another excellent physician within a few hours of interviews. And I’d be damned unlucky to get another one with a family life that’s as much of a disaster as yours.”
I stare at him. Tears cloud my vision, but I blink them away.
“Give me four weeks,” I whisper.
“Did you hear anything I just said?” It’s Oliver’s turn to be incredulous.
“Four weeks, Olly. Four weeks, and I promise it will all be sorted out, and I’ll be back and the most loyal staff member you’ve ever had on your team. It’d take you at least a few weeks to recruit a replacement for me anyway, right? So you have nothing to lose.”
“Fucking hell, Lexie.”
“Please?”
“Unpaid leave.”
“Of course.” The relief crashes over me, and I freeze—debating whether or not I should hug him.
“Christ,” Oliver groans, then he stares at his desk as he points a stiff finger toward his office door. “Get out of here before I change my mind.”
* * *
I’m sitting in Annie’s room several hours later, holding the baby while the nurse tends to Annie’s dressing. She is still groggy and in pain.
“I’ll talk to the doctor again,” the nurse murmurs, but she’s impatient, because Annie has been complaining for hours now. Within minutes of her last shot of morphine, Annie wanted more, and the nurses have already discussed it with the registrar on duty and confirmed the dose is correct. I can’t tell if Annie is genuinely in pain or just wants more drugs, so I feel for the doctors.
When we are alone again, I approach the bed with the baby, and Annie brightens just a little.
“It’s difficult to get the dose right,” I tell her quietly. “Your tolerance to the opioids would be pretty high, and the methadone...”
“I know,” Annie interrupts me, but she speaks weakly. She looks exhausted. “But I have seven days with her, and right now I’m in so much pain I can’t even think straight. They need to give me something more so I can function a bit more, because I won’t get these hours back.”
I sit on the edge of the bed so Annie can see the baby, who’s wide-awake but content. Annie raises her hand to touch the baby’s arm, and she smiles gently at her.
“Hello, little one. You look happy.”
“The baby looks like Dad,” I tell Annie, and she looks at me in surprise.
“You think so?”
“Well, she looks like you, and you do, so...”
“I thought I might give her Nell for a middle name. It’s not exactly Neil, but it’s close.”
“And her first name?” I say hesitantly. I glance at Annie. “I’m really sorry about before. I shouldn’t have...”
Annie looks at me blankly.
“Before?”
“Don’t you remember? In recovery?”
Annie shifts her gaze from me back to the baby, but I know she’s lying when she says, “I was too out of it. I don’t remember anything of recovery. And anyway, her name will be Daisy. Daisy Nell Vidler. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
I hesitate, because I do still think Daisy is a much more sensible name, but I don’t want to overturn my sister’s wishes. There’s a soft knock at the door, and when I turn around, Sam is there. He’s carrying a huge bunch of flowers and a pink It’s a Girl balloon. He offers me a smile.
“Hey,” he says, “can I come in?”
“Of course,” Annie says. He approaches us at the bed and stares down at the baby.
“Well, Annie. Your daughter is beautiful. Congratulations.”
“You didn’t have to buy me flowers,” she tells him a little stiffly. “You’ve done enough, Sam. You really have.”
“Ah, nonsense.” He waves a hand toward her dismissively. “You’re family, and she’s family. By the way, does ‘she’ have a name?”
“Daisy,” Annie tells him.
“That’s a beautiful name, Annie. Congratulations.”
He makes room for the flowers on her bedside table and sticks the balloon a little awkwardly into the bunch, then opens his arms and nods toward the baby.
“Can I?” he asks, and I pass him my niece.
“Sorry I didn’t call you,” I say as I adjust the baby’s blanket around her in his arms. I’m momentarily distracted by how natural Sam looks as he holds the newborn. He’ll hold our babies one day, if we’re lucky enough to have them. If he sticks around after all of this chaos... “It’s been a whirlwind.”
“It’s fine. I had my spies keeping an eye on you two,” he assures us. “I wanted to come by earlier but I had a patient emergency myself. I’ve only just finished now.”
“What time is it?” Annie asks, and I turn to the clock on the wall.
“God, it’s nearly seven o’clock.”
“Have you taken some time off work?” Sam asks me carefully, and I nod. “In that case, I thought we could drive home together tonight and travel back in together tomorrow. If you’re ready now.”
“I don’t think I should leave Annie yet—” I glance at her, and she shakes her head.
“I’m exhausted, Lexie. I’m just waiting for something stronger for the pain, then I’m going to sleep.”
“Are you in much pain, Annie?” Sam frowns, and I try to shoot him a message with my eyes—danger, don’t get involved. He also seems to be trying to send me a message right back—trust me. I do—I’m sure Sam is very well versed in the complexities of this pain-management scenario—but as much as I trust him, I also know Annie, and how manipulative she can be.
“I’ve asked for something more,” she mutters, but she seems embarrassed, and that’s pretty much confirmation that she is playing us.
“I’ll stop past the office on the way out and ask them to review your dosage, okay? You need to sleep well tonight so you can make the most of your time with this little one tomorrow.”
Annie’s eyes fill with tears, and she nods.
“Thank you, Sam, that’s all I’m worried about,” she whispers unevenly, then she glances at me. “He’s a keeper, Lexie.”
“I know,” I murmur. I glance at Sam again, but he’s staring down at the baby. “We should go, then.” I bend to kiss her forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
We walk Daisy back to the NICU—Annie can’t lift her yet, and the baby will need close monitoring over the next few days. Once she’s safely back with the staff we walk through the corridor alone. Sam takes my hand in his and glances at me. “Tough day, honey?”
“It could have been a lot worse,” I say, but suddenly, I feel tired all the way down to my bones—and I still need to call Mom. “I just can’t wait to get home.”
“I’ll quickly speak with the consultant about her meds. They’re probably being conservative with the dosage.”
“Or the dose is perfect and she just wants a harder hit.”
“No, I could see it in her eyes,” Sam says. He says it with complete confidence, but I hear the arrogance in his tone, and it irritates the hell out of me.
“They’re dosing her high enough, Sam. She’s playing you.”
“Lex, trust me, okay?” He says this dismissively, and my hackles rise. “I deal with post-op pain all day, every day. I know the signs, and your sister was in genuine discomfort.”
“But she—”
“Let me talk to the staff. It will be obvious from the dosage if you’re right.”
It takes all of thirty seconds with the nursing staff to discover that I’m not right—the consultant has ordered a standard post-caesar morphine dose for Annie. All of this leaves me completely confused. I’m angry for Annie, and I regret that I didn’t believe her and advocate for her—and I’m embarrassed to have doubted Sam.
But I’m also fatigued, and part of me thinks it’s her fault that I’m so suspicious of her. I’ve fallen for her tricks before.
“I’ll go back and tell her,” I murmur to Sam, when he reaches for the phone to call Eliza. He nods at me, and I walk back down the corridor to Annie’s room. She startles when I open the door, and I see that she’s been crying.
“Are you okay?”
“It hurts,” she whispers, but she avoids my gaze and stares at the ceiling instead.
“The dosage is wrong. Sam is calling Eliza to get the order fixed.” She nods once, so I know she’s heard me. “I forgot to tell you, I’ll call Mom to let her know,” I add hesitantly. When Annie shakes her head, I say softly, “Annie, she needs to know.”
I’m insistent even though I know the conversation is not going to be a fun one. Surprise! Annie just had a baby. Oh, and she’s been charged with child endangerment, and she’s going into court-ordered rehab in seven days. If that doesn’t work, she’s probably off to jail for a decade. So that’s our news—how’s the weather over there?
“She’s going to be so pissed.”
“I’ll deal with her.”
“Do you think she will come?”
“I honestly don’t know. Do you want her to come?”
Annie thinks about it for a while before she shakes her head.
“I don’t want her to see me like this.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, she’ll only come if Robert lets her.”
Annie finally looks at me, and we share a sad smile. I turn back to the doorway, then ask, “Is there anyone else I should call?”
“You think I’m pathetic, don’t you?”
Her sharp tone seems to come from out of nowhere. I look to Annie, confused.
“Don’t, Annie... I’m just trying to help.”
“I have a feeling that seeing me like this is probably satisfying to you,” Annie says bitterly. “Did you just know that one day I’d come begging you for help again? It’s probably killed you that it’s taken two years.”
She can be so mean, so condescending—and I’m so tired. The day has been emotionally exhausting—a roller coaster that seemed to be winding its way toward a peaceful rest—until now. I want to get out of the room before things deteriorate further, so I take a hasty step toward the door. “I’ll be back in the morning. I’ll bring you some things—some breakfast again?”
“Don’t fucking bother. I don’t need your charity.”
I open the door but I hesitate before I step out, and the impulse to bite back is too strong. I ignore the weariness on her face and the pain in her eyes as I whisper bitterly, “If you really don’t need my charity, I’ll have the hospital send you the bill for your care then, shall I? And the lawyer? And the rehab clinic?”
I step out of her room before she can reply, although I know it’s unfair of me. I don’t understand why she does that—why she has to push me away. What more could I possibly do for her than I’ve already done in the last few days? What more can she possibly expect from me?
“Ready to go?” Sam approaches me, and I nod. “Are you okay? You’re flushed.”
“Just ready to get out of here,” I mutter, reluctant to tell him about Annie’s little mood swing. I’m concerned about how he’ll react. He’ll either storm into her room and tell her off, or justify her behavior by pointing out that she’s just had a baby, her hormones are all over the place, she’s in significant pain and she’s probably terrified. I’m not sure which would annoy me more, so I keep my mouth shut.
* * *
As soon as we get home, I walk right into our bedroom to make the call to Mom. Robert answers, his voice gruff and abrupt.
“Hello.”
“Hello, Robert. This is Alexis. Please can I speak with my mother?”
Ever since I had to call them to beg for money the first time Annie needed to go to private rehab, he’s allowed us relatively easy access to Mom over the phone. I have no idea why. I’ll never know for sure, but I suspect his surprise lenience with the rules is because he feels guilty for how hard he was on Annie when she was a kid.
Robert doesn’t respond to my request, but this is pretty typical—on the rare occasions that I call, he doesn’t waste time with small talk. Instead, I hear muffled sounds and then my mother’s voice comes through the line.
“Oh, hello, Lexie,” she greets me, and she sounds delighted, as she always does when I call. “It’s so nice to hear from you.”
I’m startled by the nervous butterflies in my stomach. For a moment, I actually think I’m going to lose my nerve. I clear my throat and pick up Sam’s pillow, then cuddle it close against my chest.
“Hi, Mom,” I say. “Listen...something has happened with Annie. She’s okay, but I—well, I don’t know how...”
“Is everything okay?” Mom asks, and I hear the mounting concern in her voice. Mom loves us—I know Annie has her doubts, but I don’t. The decisions Mom has made, even the questionable ones, have all been because she thought she was doing the right thing at the time.
“Annie had a baby today, Mom.”
“A what?”
“It’s a girl. Her name is Daisy Nell.” I let Mom digest this, but she’s silent for a long time. I press my face into Sam’s pillow and inhale deeply, but the moment stretches, and eventually I prompt, “Mom? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Mom says stiffly. “I’m confused, but I’m fine. I spoke to her two weeks ago and she didn’t mention a baby. She said she was busy with work.”
“Work?” I repeat blankly. “I’m not really sure about that, Mom. She thought she could clean up her act before she told you, but she got sick and the baby had to come early. Annie has still been using drugs, so Daisy will probably have to go through withdrawals over the next few weeks.” I know I’m giving Mom a lot of shocking news all at once, so I try to soften it a little as I add, “But she should be fine eventually, too.”
“Oh...oh, no. Annie, no,” Mom whispers—her voice is thickening. She’s near tears, and suddenly I am, too. “How has it come to this, Lexie?”
“She has a problem, Mom.”
“She needs to get herself right with the Lord.”
“She needs to get herself right with herself, Mom.” I sigh impatiently. “Look, I just wanted to let you know. The thing is...the police and Child Protective Services are involved, because she had a positive drug test at the hospital. She’s been charged because she used drugs while she was pregnant, so now she has to go to rehab next week.”
“Rehab is good. You just have to help her stop now, Lexie. She’s got a child now,” Mom says. This is simple to her. I just need to sort Annie out so she can be a good mom. To my mother, this is a moral failure, not an illness, and it’s one that Mom sees as transferable—I’m more responsible than Annie, so I can solve this if I just apply myself.
It’s nothing new, but it’s maddening.
“She can’t just stop. If she could stop, she would have stopped years ago. She’s an addict, for God’s sake.”
“Please don’t speak like that, Alexis. You know it upsets me.”
“What upsets me is watching my sister waste her life to this addiction, Mom. I’m frustrated and I’m tired and I just want you to understand what a complete mess this is. Annie is going to rehab next week without her baby. The baby will stay with me until she’s released—in three months’ time. Do you understand that?”
“So what do you want me to do? You know I can’t come.” Mom is whispering now. I imagine Robert has come closer again, and I know she’s going to wrap the call up even before she does. “Well, thank you for letting me know. We will have the church family pray for her.”
“Mom. Please at least talk to Robert about coming over. To support Annie. Please.”
“You know that Robert and I believe Annie needs to resolve her issues on her own. She has made the decision to walk away from her faith and—”
“Don’t you even want to see your granddaughter?”
“I would really appreciate it if you could find a way to send a photo to me, Alexis. Truly, it would mean the world,” Mom says stiffly. “And, of course, please keep me informed if anything changes.”
“I’m going to go before I say something I regret,” I choke, as tears fill my eyes. It still stings that my mother would choose Robert and the church over Annie and me, time and time again.
“How did it go?” Sam asks me, as I come down the stairs into our living area. He offers me a very full glass of wine, and I accept it gratefully.
“It went exactly as I knew it would,” I mutter blithely as I curl up on the couch. “She’d probably jump on a plane and come down to see the baby if Robert would let her, but he won’t, so she’s happy to leave all of the mess to me.” Sam sits beside me, then pulls me gently against him and wraps his arm around my shoulders. I lean into him and release a frustrated sigh. “God, you’re going to run screaming away from me when you realize how messed up my family is.”
“You did warn me it’s all a bit messy,” he says.
“A bit?”
“It is what it is, Lex. We’ll manage.”
I close my eyes and let myself sink into the moment. It’s peaceful in our house, even more so in Sam’s arms, and I gradually start to relax.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Sam murmurs, sometime later.
“Daisy?”
“Yeah.”
I smile softly and nod.
“Yeah, she really is.”