But of course I didn’t say that. Instead, I smiled back and nodded. “I’m doing good. How are you, Maria?”
“Fine, fine, fine.” Another weird tic of hers. She always said it three times, like she was trying to make herself believe it. “Have you been checking on Mrs. Molloy?”
I hesitated then glanced toward Erica’s mom. “I’ve been keeping an eye on her.”
Maria turned the pages in her folder. “Linda Molloy, age sixty-three. Did you know that she doesn’t have insurance?”
I grimaced. “No, I didn’t.”
“No insurance.” She clicked her tongue. “It’s a messed up world, isn’t it? When folks can’t afford insurance.”
“Didn’t she have a job?”
“Nothing listed in her file. And she’s getting some very, very expensive care.”
“I’m not sure what you propose we do with her.” I nodded at the machines. “Can’t unplug anything.”
“No, but there are other options. Public hospitals that’ll take her for cheap. Long-term nursing perhaps. We have ways of dealing with this.”
I knew what her ways were. They involved kicking her out on the curb and hoping someone else would step up and do the right thing.
I hated this shit. It was horrifying that folks went into debt to save their lives. It pissed me off that this hospital had so much bloat, so many high-paid executives and administrators strutting around like they mattered, and yet patients still got thrown out when they couldn’t pay up.
It was fucked up, and I knew where this conversation was going.
“That’s not going to happen though.” I stared at Maria, narrowing my eyes. “She needs this place. She needs real care.”
Maria shook her head. “Not sure what you want me to do about it, Dr. Majors. She has no insurance, which means she can’t pay for our services.”
“We don’t have to ship her off to the chop shops.” That was my pet name for the nursing centers that were public funded and barely operating at a reasonable standard of care. That was where the admins loved sending folks with no insurance.
“I hate when you call it that.” She frowned at me and shook her head. “But you know how this goes.”
“What’s her bill at?”
“Oh, you know, it varies. I’d say she can stay for another couple of days, but beyond that? Who knows.”
“What if she stayed for another month?”
Maria laughed. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
“I could pay for it.”
She gave me a surprised look. “That’s highly inappropriate, Dr. Majors.”
I waved a hand. “I don’t give a damn. That woman’s important and I’m not about to let her get shipped out of here over money.”
“I can’t have a doctor paying for a patient’s care. It raises all sorts of ethical issues.”
“Then assign another doctor to be her primary physician. I’ll step aside and pay her bills.”
She snapped her folder shut. “Absolutely not.”
“Maria—”
“I’m sorry, but no. I won’t allow it.” She narrowed her eyes. “Does this have something to do with her daughter? I saw that she was a patient, and you were assigned to her.”
I looked away and took a few moments to consider how to answer. I knew this would come out sooner or later, and there was nothing wrong with marrying a patient—hell, it happened all the damn time. So long as certain forms were signed and certain procedures were followed, nobody so much as batted an eye.
This was a bad moment to break the news and I knew it, but I wasn’t about to cover it up like I was ashamed of it.
“I married her.”
Maria let out a snort and smiled. “Good one. I’m sure you did.”
I gave her a look and held up my hand. A simple gold wedding band glittered on my left hand. “I’m not joking.”
Her face slowly fell. “You’re really not.”
“We got married yesterday.”
“I had no clue… I didn’t realize… You two knew each other?”
I hesitated a second then shrugged. “It was sudden.”
“Oh. Right. Okay.” I could see her trying to process this information. Her face showed confusion, then temporary anger, then she settled back into her neutral administrator face, trying to exude calm and control. Although I bet she was all fucked up inside right now. That made me smile, at least a little. “I understand why you don’t want to let Mrs. Molloy leave.”
“Linda’s my mother-in-law now,” I said, using her name for the first time, mainly to try it out. “I have to do right by her.”
“Of course. Of course. But you know I can’t let you lead her case anymore?”
I grimaced. I knew this was coming, but I hoped to put it off for a few more days—hoped Linda would wake up by then. “I know that.”
“All right. I’ll start the paperwork for you… for you and your new wife… and huh. Well. I suppose congratulations are in order.”
I gave her a tight smile. “Thank you, Maria.”
“As for Mrs. Molloy’s debt… I suppose we could push it for a few more days.”