“Charles?” She wet her lips and tried again. “Charles, can you hear me? It’s Julia.”
No response. Not even a twitch of his fingers.
She forced herself to sit quietly, speaking softly to him, hardly even aware of what she said. It seemed only moments passed before the nurse was beside her again, signaling her time was up.
A tall, cadaver-thin man waited just outside the glass door.
“I’m Dr. Rombauer, Mrs. Patterson.” He shook her hand. “Let’s find a place to sit down so I can fill you in on your husband’s condition. You look exhausted.”
“I’ve just flown in from Boston. I was there on a business trip.” Not to mention the most incredible pleasure she’d ever experienced. “I don’t understand how this happened. Charles always seemed in excellent health.”
“Unfortunately, that’s often the case.”
Claire rose as they came toward her. “I’ll wait in the hall so you can talk.”
“No. Please stay.” Julia needed the support of Claire’s presence. She turned back to Rombauer. “You’ve already spoken to Mrs. Westbrook and I’d prefer to have my friend here with me.”
“Your call.” He nodded.
Julia perched tensely on the edge of her chair watching Rombauer open the chart in his hand.
“I’ll try to explain this as clearly as I can,” he began. “What your husband suffered is what you call a heart attack and we call a myocardial infarction. In some cases it’s mild, in others it’s a lot more severe.”
“And in Charles’s case?” she asked.
“I’m afraid his is in the latter category.”
He went on to explain in detail about Charles’s condition. Hands gripped tightly in her lap, throat dry, Julia listened, but after a few minutes, the words seemed to blend. She could barely distinguish one fact from another.
“I appreciate the abundance of detail, Dr. Rombauer, but can you just give me some kind of simple prognosis? My mind isn’t functioning too well right now.”
He closed the chart and looked at her carefully, a clinical assessment. “Of course, forgive me.” He paused. “Were you aware your husband was being treated for high blood pressure?”
Julia tried to conceal the shock she felt. “I was not. Charles never mentioned a word to me.” And how like him to conceal any evidence of imperfection lest it be seen as a chink in his armor. “But we’re separated. I don’t know if anyone’s told you. Our divorce is practically final.”
He raised his eyebrows. “No, I wasn’t made aware of that. Maybe I should be meeting with someone else?”
“No.” She shook her head. “He’s still the father of my children and a part of the family circle.”
“All right, then.” He leaned back in the chair. “I’ve discussed this with Dr. Vinoy. Apparently, Mr. Patterson’s been taking medication for three or four years. When he was diagnosed, his blood pressure was dangerously high and Dr. Vinoy stressed to him the importance of keeping it under control.”
Julia tried to process what he said. Rombauer droned on about the high blood pressure as the underlying cause of the heart attack, the loss of blood to the heart muscle, and its subsequent damage. Scar tissue. Restrictive blood flow. Congestive heart failure. She felt as if she’d been dropped into a medical drama without the benefit of a script.
Swallowing twice to wet her dry throat, she asked, “How long will it take him to recover? Will this be a long process? What kind of care will he need?”
The look of kindness in Rombauer’s eyes was the signal, and she braced herself.
“I’m afraid there is just too much damage to the heart.” He shook his head. “There is no way for it to recover.”
Shock ran through her. “He’s going to die.” A statement, not a question.
“Probably within six months.”
Julia’s head spun, making her dizzy and faint. The room spun slightly. Only Claire’s hand on her arm steadied her.
“Surely with the number of advances in modern medicine,” she protested, “there’s some way to fix this.”
Rombauer shook his head. “More than three quarters of the heart is damaged. The only option would be a transplant, but even if we could find a donor match, your husband is not a good candidate for the surgery.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The lab tests revealed a rare blood condition making surgery of any kind risky, and cardiac surgery prohibitive. The best we can offer Charles is medical attention to keep him comfortable.”
Rare blood condition? How had she never known this? What else had he kept from her in his drive for perfection? Something else suddenly jumped into her mind.
“Has anyone called his parents?”
“I did,” Claire told her. “I waited until it was light. I know how they hate having their sleep disturbed.” She could barely keep the distaste from her voice.
“Are they coming to the hospital?” How on earth was she going to deal with them?
“Oh, sure.” She made a face. “On their schedule. They told me they needed time to compose themselves first.”
Julia refused to imagine the scene she’d face when the elder Pattersons arrived. They would blame her, of course. Normal behavior for them. Everything wrong in their lives could be laid at her doorstep. Of course she’d never hear the end of her trip out of town. A wife’s place is with her husband. She should have had it tattooed on her backside. Well, her place wasn’t there any more, even if they chose to ignore the divorce proceedings.
Their arrival would be an intrusion into the routine of the hospital. Without concern for other patients and their families, Howard would demand attention in his loud, authoritarian voice. Elise would stand like a carefully placed wax mannequin, totally unmoving, nodding her head to punctuate each of her husband’s words. He would use his power to threaten doctors and nurses with dire consequences if they didn’t rush to do his bidding where his son
