“What if I am? Why am I the only one to see that Nick is a fucking fraud?”
“I guess it takes one to know one, eh, Eli,” I said. “Except you’re not a fraud. You’re a whiner.”
“Nick,” Jim’s sharp voice chastised me.
“Dr. Foster. I need a word.”
I turned to see Dick with his serious administrative face on.
“Don’t bother. I quit.” I strode past Jim and Dick, through the crowd of gawkers and surprised nurses. I made my way out the back exit to avoid whatever was still going on out front.
I should have quit long ago, I realized. Mia was right, I was too fucked up in the head to practice medicine. What had all that denial and pushing through accomplished? Mia got hurt. The weight of Ms. Mason’s death was crushing, but the guilt of knowing I was why Mia was hurt was unbearable. Yes, I put some blame on Eli, but those angry people were there because of me. I couldn’t do that anymore. I was done.
As I drove toward home, I worked to figure out what I’d do. If any of the mob was at my house, would I drive them over? Let them have me?
They weren’t there, so the next decision was where to go because I couldn’t stay there. I could go to San Diego to see my parents. Crap, I needed to take Jim to see the Bongos. Well, maybe Mia could do that when she got better.
Maybe I could just go to Mexico. It would be years before this lawsuit with the Mason family went to trial, and I didn’t need to be here in the meantime.
First, though, I thought as I walked through my front door, I needed a drink. I didn’t have to work so I could consume as much as I wanted. It had been a long time since I got drunk. Maybe I’d finally have a night without guilt, and anger, and fear, and dreams.
30
Mia
I woke in a private room with my father by my side, and Eli sulking in a corner. “Dad.”
“There’s my girl.” He looked twenty years older as he smiled at me. I felt bad for putting stress on him.
Wanting to reassure him, I said, “I’m okay.”
He smiled. “How do you know? You’ve been knocked out.”
“I’ll get the doctor,” Eli said, not looking at me.
“What’s wrong with him?” I asked my dad when Eli left.
My father sighed. “It’s not important now.”
“I guess Nick isn’t here?”
My father’s head tilted to the side and I thought he might ask me about Nick, but the door opened and Dr. Anderson walked in. That told me I wasn’t the ER’s responsibility anymore.
“Ms. Parker, how are you feeling?”
“My head hurts,” I admitted.
“You fell and hit your head. You have some bruising too, but fortunately, no breaks or fractures. Still, we want to keep you for a day or two.”
“Two?”
“There was some swelling of the brain. We just want to monitor you and make sure that’s all healing.”
“You’ll be right as new,” my father said from the other side of the bed. He took my hand. The doctor checked me over and then left me alone with my dad. Eli hadn’t returned yet.
“So, what’s going on?” I asked.
“It’s not time for you to worry about that, honey. You need your rest.”