Our Last Chance (Heart of Hope 1)

She frowned. “What are the hospital’s intentions with my client?”

“Like I said, the hospital values his work.”

She stood. “I can see why he felt the need for outside counsel. When can I have the paperwork?”

I rose from my chair. “Why do you say that?”

“Your client is the hospital, so your representation of the staff only goes so far. You may need a scapegoat, and Dr. Foster is the obvious choice.”

I hated that she was right.

“I too will represent my client, and turn around is fair play, is it not?” she said, quirking a brow.

That made me feel uncomfortable. I wanted to tell her that I thought Nick and the hospital weren’t negligent, but knew I couldn’t without potentially hurting the hospital. “I’ll arrange to get those documents now.”

Once she left, I wanted to run down to the ER and talk to Nick about it, not as a lawyer but as a friend. As someone who cared about him. I hated that I couldn’t do that. I suppose he was right in that my job was keeping a wedge between us. I was choosing work over him, but it wasn’t like he and I were in love. He’d choose his career too. I didn’t see him quitting to be with me.

I shook my head wondering why I was even thinking that. Sure, we had sex a couple of times, but sex wasn’t love. In fact, in his case, it was just a means to forget bad thoughts. I was a tool.

Now annoyed at myself, I pushed away thoughts of Nick and this case, and dove into my job. After work, I went to the grocery store to pick up some food for dinner and then drove to my dad’s house.

“There’s my girl,” he said, although it didn’t have the same oomph behind it.

“Are you feeling okay, Dad?” I asked as I carried the bags of groceries into the kitchen.

“Oh sure. What did you bring?”

“I’m going to make pasta. And after dinner, I got us some fancy ice cream.”

“Can we have ice cream for dinner.” His eyes twinkled.

“I believe the answer is no. At least that’s what you always told me and Eli when we were growing up.”

Forty minutes later, I sat at the table with my dad, and Eli had shown up as well. It was the first time we’d sat and eaten as a family in a long time. The situation was bittersweet. It was wonderful to be with them, and yet my mom’s empty seat was a painful reminder of our loss.

Dad was eating slow, and a few times, seemed to have trouble with it.

“What’s wrong, Dad? You don’t like the pasta?” I asked him.

“It’s delicious honey. Just having some trouble getting food down today.”

I looked at Eli, as worry crept up my spine.

“We should get you to the doctor,” Eli said.

“What for? He’ll just say it’s part of the disease,” my dad said.

“Maybe there’s something that will help.” The idea that he wouldn’t be able to eat scared me. “You need your nourishment to stay strong.”

He took another bite, larger than he should have probably to prove to Eli and I that he was okay. But he choked, and spit the food out.

“We need to go to the hospital,” Eli said.

“No.” My father slapped his hand on the table. “I’m not going there.”

“Dad, you need medical attention,” I said, for once in agreement with Eli.

My father shook his head. “I’m not going. Call Nick if you think someone should check me out.”