Page 15 of Starry Tides
The man opened his eyes again and blinked at her. “You’re pretty,” he slurred.
“You’re going to have to hop in my car,” Helena told him firmly. “I can’t get this glass out myself. I don’t want to do any more damage.” She winced when she considered pulling out the glass, just like that, would do to him. Maybe it would sever something that couldn’t be fixed.
“Do you hear me?” Helena demanded.
Finally, the man nodded. He put his hand on Helena’s shoulder, and then Helena stood and provided a bit of balance for him as he hopped slowly on his good foot, down the two patio steps, and into the garage. Once he was in the car, his cheeks glinted with sweat and tears.
“I’m going to get blood all over everything,” he said. “I don’t want to ruin your car.”
“It’s already ruined,” she told him.
But she watched as he tried and failed to save her car upholstery, loosely wrapping his shoe with the sweater she’d given him.
Helena had never driven faster in her life. Off they went, with Helena screaming at her GPS to give instructions to the hospital. As it routed her, she glanced over at the stranger countless times, wondering why on earth he’d been sailing around in the middle of a storm.
“Why were you sailing?” she demanded. “I mean, wasn’t it too dangerous?”
But the man seemed unable to have a normal conversation. He’d already lost too much blood.
9
Aviolent storm over the island cast strange shadows throughout the hospital. As no surgeries were scheduled that week, Bethany was working in the emergency room, which was largely empty save for a kid with a freshly broken arm and a young mother with a baby. It was slower than slow, maybe because everyone was inside, taking care of themselves during the storm.
Bethany finished checking on the baby, who had a moderately high fever but would be okay. The mother was panicky, asking a thousand questions. “I’m sorry,” she said afterward, bug-eyed and under slept. “It’s just that his father left us a few months ago, and every time he gets sick, I panic that I’ll be alone forever after that. That I won’t have anyone. I think about going to my mother’s in Oregon, but it feels like giving up. I don’t know. I’m blabbering.” She burst into tears as, for once, the baby peered up at his mother as though he couldn’t fathom what was wrong.
Bethany gave the woman a list of Nantucket-based therapists and told her to take her baby home and try to get some sleep. She watched her go, her heart in her throat. In seven months,she’d have a baby, too—a baby who’d need Bethany more than anything. Strangely, Bethany saw herself in the young mother’s panic. But she knew how to hide it better, she supposed.
She returned to her office, searched the fridge for a snack, then sat down, trying not to heave with nausea. She hadn’t worked a night shift in a very long time. She hoped she’d make it through whatever chaos unfolded. She hoped—more than that—for no chaos.
Suddenly, there was a cry from the entrance to the emergency room. “We need a gurney!” Bethany got to her feet immediately and reached for a fresh pair of gloves. Moving like a life depended on it, as it normally did, she shot down the hallway to find two nurses helping a man of about forty-five onto a gurney. A massive piece of glass was in his shoe, and blood dripped everywhere. It looked like the man was unconscious. He was getting paler all the time.
Bethany went into overdrive. All her training crystallized, and she found herself barking orders and hurrying the man into an operating room. She loved it when she became this version of herself: a doctor in charge of her environment. A doctor who’d never been afraid of anything. No hesitating could happen, not here, not when someone’s life hung in the balance. Once in the operating room, she cleaned and disinfected the area around his foot, then used a combination of scissors and pliers to remove the shoe. An anesthesiologist was called in to help. In the midst of the chaos, one of the nurses rifled through his back pocket to find his wallet and learn his name. It was Matteo, apparently. But Bethany didn’t need to know that just now.
Names weren’t necessary when your life hung in the balance like that.
All told, after the half-hour required to save his life, it went down in the books as a relatively routine procedure. Bethany had seen all sorts of things stuck or sliced through bodies. As longas the wrong things weren’t severed, the body could heal itself remarkably. The man before her, whose foot now had a generous wrapping around it as he slept on, would make it through the night. But because he’d lost so much blood, she wanted to make sure they kept him till morning, just in case.
She gave the man a final glance, noting that he was handsome and serious-looking when he slept. He wore no wedding ring. She always looked at that, too. She wondered if anyone loved him, if anyone was waiting to hear from him. But Gina at the front desk would surely take care of that.
Bethany headed out to scrub herself clean and finally get that snack. On the way, the nurse stopped her, pulling her mask down as she said, “The woman who brought him in wants to talk to you?”
Bethany immediately assumed the woman was Matteo’s girlfriend or maybe a daughter. After cleaning up and changing scrubs, she went into the waiting area to find a very skinny and ill-looking woman sitting in the corner, weeping. She looked terrified. Gina at the front desk seemed unsure what to do. She beckoned for Bethany, telling her, “I keep trying to give her food or something, but she won’t take any of it.”
Bethany understood: the woman was worried about Matteo. “Did she give you her name?”
“She’s not family,” Gina said timidly. “I don’t really understand how they know each other. She didn’t know his name. She couldn’t give me any details about him.” Gina raised the card the nurse had taken from Matteo’s wallet. “Good thing you found this. He’s got pretty good health insurance.”
“Amazing,” Bethany said, still distracted by the woman. Only she could explain what had happened and why she’d been able to bring Matteo in.
The waiting room was now clear, save for the woman. Bethany went over to her, preparing a smile. When she reachedher, she pulled a chair closer so that they could sit facing each other. The chair squeaked on the linoleum, and the woman looked up.
“Oh,” she said. “Hello.”
Although the woman was probably her age, Bethany felt as though she were approaching a tiny, adorable, frightened creature. “Hi,” she said. “I understand you’ve had a trying day.”
“Is he awake?” The woman forced herself to sit up straight.
Bethany knew she couldn’t tell the woman anything about Matteo, not without Matteo’s consent, as they weren’t family. She hesitated. A look of understanding passed over the woman’s face.
