“In here.”
The resident pulled aside the curtain in the first cubicle. Anita lay on the high bed, her eyes closed. An ugly contusion marred her forehead, her knees were scraped raw, her shoes scuffed at the toes, and her white socks grimy with dirt.
“My housekeeper’s going to be ticked off about those socks,” he said to no one in particular. “It’s a matter of pride with her that my daughter always looks band-box clean when she’s out in public.”
Gino’s mouth fell open. He shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. “Er…we haven’t examined her or ordered any tests, Doctor. We thought you’d want to take charge of that yourself.”
“Absolutely right.”
He approached the bed. Aware that all eyes were on him—all except his daughter’s, that was. They remained closed—he conducted a routine examination: heart, lungs, blood pressure, pupils, reflexes. Satisfied with what he found, he turned his attention to the scalp abrasion. Already, a goose egg was forming, but as such injuries went, it appeared superficial. “This needs to be disinfected and treated with antibiotic cream.”
As a rule, his staff jumped to carry out his orders but in this instance, no one moved. Instead, they stood there as if they’d been turned to stone and stared at him in stupefaction. “What’s the holdup?” he barked. “Did I not make myself clear?”
“Absolutely, Doctor. I’ll take care of the matter myself,” one of the nurses said, while the rest scattered.
Gino inched closer and murmured. “Is that all, Carlo?”
“Of course not! You know well enough that a CT Scan’s in order with any type of head injury, no matter how superficial it might appear. But I don’t anticipate it’ll reveal anything more than we can see for ourselves.”
“Even though Anita’s still unconscious?”
“That’s normal. She’ll come to, any minute.”
Right on cue, Anita opened her eyes. They filled with tears when she saw him bending over her. “Papà?” she whimpered. “I don’t feel so good.”
“I know, baby,” he said. “Can you tell me where it hurts?”
“My knees. They’re on fire, Papà.”
“You scraped them badly when you fell. We’ll apply some salve and a dressing. They’ll soon feel better.” He straightened and nodded to the nurse who’d returned with a tray containing swabs, disinfectant, and a tube of ointment. “See to that as well, please.”
Looking slightly punch-drunk, she nodded and sidled away to add sterile dressings to the tray.
“What’s the matter with everybody around here?” he asked Gino. “Is something in the water addling their brains?”
“I guess they’re…upset. For Anita and for you.”
“Accidents happen. Speaking of which, how’s the other victim?”
“Haven’t heard. She’s still being checked over.”
“Keep me posted on the outcome.”
“Sure.” The resident scratched his head. “You feeling okay, Chief?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m not the one who’s been hurt. I suppose the police were called?”
“Oh, yeah! I forgot to mention an officer’s waiting to speak to you in the E.R. lounge when you’re done in here.”
“I’ll see him right away. Let me know the minute you hear from Radiology.”
“From all accounts,” the young policeman reported, consulting his notebook, “your daughter stepped off the sidewalk outside The Parkside Café, directly into the path of a car heading downhill on Fonseca Road.”
“That makes no sense. My daughter had no reason to be on that side of the street.”
The officer shrugged. “There were several witnesses who say she was. The driver swerved and narrowly missed hitting her. She’s very lucky she escaped so lightly. She and her friend could both have been killed.”
“Friend?”
“The American she was with at the café. I’m afraid the woman took the worst of it. There’s no question that her quick thinking saved your daughter’s life.”
When he’d learned it was Anita who’d been hurt, Carlo had held himself together by dint of sheer willpower. Had blocked out the memory of another afternoon when he’d walked into another Emergency Unit and found his wife lying dead on a Gurney. Had forcibly overcome the relentless fear that he might lose his daughter as he’d lost her mother.
Instead of harking back to a past he was powerless to change, he’d tapped into the deep well of self-discipline which was the mark of the true professional, and brought all his considerable expertise to bear on the present. Distraction clouded judgment and made for human error, and there was no room for either in his line of work.
Because it was the only course open to him, he’d told himself that who had been injured was not the issue. All that mattered was that, as a doctor, he was morally obligated to treat yet another in a long line of patients needing his help.
He’d held to the conviction for as long as it had been necessary. But now that the immediate crisis had passed, as well as the rush of adrenalin that went with it, and he was confronted by facts too horrific to be borne, he became a father again. The full impact of what had just transpired—that it was his daughter, his child, whose life had been thrown in jeopardy—snapped his iron control.
Sweat broke out on his upper lip and trickled down his spine. Only by the grace of God had she been spared. He could as well have walked into the Emergency Unit and found her dead just like her mother.
To have come so close to personal tragedy again was more than he could handle, and in an effort to divert himself from the unthinkable, he seized on a triviality. “What the devil are you talking about, man?” he demanded, filled with sudden, irrational fury. “My daughter has no American woman friend.”
The officer consulted his notes again. “She and the woman were seen talking together, Doctor, and gave every appearance of knowing one another. Two witnesses saw your daughter cross the street and greet her. In any event, there’s no doubt that even if she’s a stranger, you owe the girl’s life to this person.”
“Then I shall make a point of thanking her, provided she has a good reason for luring my child into danger in the first place—something I highly doubt she can justify.” Jamming his hands in his pockets to hide their trembling, he turned to leave.
“One more thing, Dr. Rossi. At the very least, the driver of the car will stand accused of speeding and reckless endangerment, but he could well be facing other penalties.”
“You can depend on it,” Carlo told him curtly. “If you don’t press charges, I most certainly will.”
“I daresay the American agrees with you. For that reason, I’d like to speak with her before I leave.”
“I have no idea if she’s up to answering questions, but I’ll find out.”
Still shaking inside, he took a moment to compose himself before returning to the Emergency Unit. A windowed alcove to one side of the bank of elevators gave him the privacy he sought and hid him from view of anyone passing back and forth in the main hall. Certainly the two young nurses leaving for a coffee break were unaware that the subject of their gossip overheard their every word.
“Couldn’t believe what I was seeing and hearing!” one of them said breathlessly. “I mean, I know the boss is famous for keeping his cool in the face of just about anything anyone throws at him, but to be so unmoved when it’s his own daughter lying there! I feel sorry for her, poor little thing. My God, can you imagine having a father like that?”
“Are you kidding? He intimidates the living daylights out of me at the best of times, but I’ve always respected him. Put him on a pedestal, the way everybody else around here does. What we witnessed just now, though—that business about the socks being dirty—well, it was creepy! I bet if he were cut open, we’d find ice water in his veins! I feel…I don’t know…betrayed, somehow.”
“Most people do when the people they idolize turn out to have feet of clay,” Carlo said, stepping forward just as the elevator doors swished open. “That’s why it’s a mistake to turn ordinary men into gods. Enjoy your coffee break, ladies.”
He didn’t wait for their stammered apologies, or pay attention to their horrified, red-faced embarrassment. He had enough to contend with. His professional demeanor rigidly in place once more, he swept past them and back into the Emergency Unit just as Anita was wheeled in from Radiology.
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