She wouldn’t want to live like this, would she? All that energy, drive, and spirit confined to a bed, not able to even talk? He should have ended her life when he had the chance. Dr. Young had tried to convince him that would be the best for Gini, but he couldn’t hear the words; he was too much in shock. The thought of killing someone just for convenience sickened him, especially since it was his wife. But now he saw it wasn’t about convenience; it was about Gini. The humane thing would have been to let her go, take her away from all her pain, her struggle, her nothingness. But it was too late; she would remain this very disabled person forever.
A couple of days later, Ric was coming out of Gini’s room when Franco walked up to sign in. When the two men saw each other, they embraced.
“Good to see you, man,” Ric said.
They stood face-to-face for a few long seconds. “Want to go for a cup of coffee?” Franco asked.
“Sure.”
Debbie and Lisa were at the nurses station, watching.
“It’s amazing how close they are,” Lisa said. “They almost act more like family than friends.”
“It is interesting,” Debbie said, looking back at her patient charts.
Lisa picked up her personal tablet and did a search for Franco Legotti. “He’s an engineer.”
“Who is?”
“Mr. Legotti. He owns his own company and digs water wells around the world in underprivileged countries. Says he worked in China; now he’s in Central and South America.” She giggled a little. “I always thought him a bit square, but that braid, the man bun, and dragon tat on his neck seem out of place.”
“I think he has a bit of street savvy in him.” Debbie put one chart back and grabbed another. “He looks tough but has a tender heart that has been broken. Losing his wife and children has scarred him deeply.”
“He was the father?”
“I don’t know; I just guessed so since he had pictures of the babies after the memorial. I saw a glimpse of the little boy, and he looked like Mr. Legotti. Never did hear officially, though. Doesn’t matter now since they are gone.”
“Nope, doesn’t matter.” Lisa looked up Ric. “Oh my gosh. Mr. Santini owns a company called Greystone Entertainment.”
“Well, that fits him perfect. Like I said, a pretty boy. A wedding planner.”
“No, not weddings. His company manages political, charity events, and the like. Also, he’s working with a wealthy man in Florida to promote the two resorts the Florida man is building. If only we knew the story behind the three of them. How they know each other and why they are so close. I’ll bet Mr. Santini’s parents were special and taught him all the social graces.”
Debbie looked over at her. Lisa had a sweet, dreamy look on her face—probably in a make-believe world. She had a weakness for romance novels. Debbie didn’t know why Lisa was so enchanted with Ric.
“We probably never will know their stories.” Debbie was finished with the charts. “Gini will soon be transferred out of here, and we won’t see any of them again.”
Debbie had become quite fond of Gini. She hadn’t known her before, she had no mental picture of the charming, determined woman whom Ric talked about; to Debbie she looked like a child, her tiny, frail body taking up such a small part of the bed. She seemed like a baby needing care, a beautiful dear baby. Of course, it was against all rules to get attached to a patient, but this one was different. She’d be careful, though, because she knew in a few weeks, Gini would be taken to a facility to live out her life, and Debbie would be assigned a new patient. That was how it worked—help the patient to go into rehab and then move on.
Ric had been working with Val again, trying to do as much as he could without going to Florida. He couldn’t be away from Gini. It was important she knew someone was there to take care of her; he wanted her to feel his love. He was a bit disappointed that Franco hardly ever visited, but not too surprised. Franco had become a hardened man, taking all the blame for Gini’s injury onto himself.
A week or so after Dr. Young told Franco he didn’t have to make a life-or-death decision, the two friends went across the street to the hotel bar and had a drink.
Franco walked with his head down the whole way. Once they were seated, still not looking at Ric, he asked, “How are you doing?”
“I’m good.” There was almost a cheerfulness in his voice.
Franco looked him straight in the eye. “How can you possibly be good? How can you stomach seeing her like that? I should have pulled the plug.”
“Wouldn’t have mattered. Gini was breathing on her own almost immediately. Taking her off the respirator wouldn’t have killed her.”
“Well, she’s dead to me.” Franco looked down again, his eyes shuttered.
“Come
