Fortunately, Simone was incredibly busy getting things ready for the masquerade ball. He didn’t have to worry about neglecting her when things got crazy at the hospital. The advent of the full moon meant a rush of babies being born. Though he hadn’t picked up many patients of his own yet, he’d been called in on several high-risk cases.
A breech birth. One drug-addicted newborn. A seven-month infant delivered prematurely as a result of a car accident. Thankfully, in that situation, mother and baby had stabilized, but it was touch and go for a while.
There were seventy-two straight hours where Hutch didn’t make it home at all. He snatched a few hours of sleep in the doctors’ lounge, but it was fragmented rest and unsatisfying. He lived off hospital food and bottled water. The only way he knew time had passed was that he changed into clean scrubs twice a day.
Several times he thought about texting Simone, but each moment he pulled out his phone, he ended up being summoned to one labor room or another.
His week went from bad to worse on Wednesday. A young woman, barely six months pregnant and a recent transplant to Royal, came in through the ER. Her vitals were all over the map and the monitors showed fetal distress. It took hours, but finally a team nailed down the cause. The woman was diagnosed with a previously undetected and very rare blood abnormality. She was hemorrhaging internally.
Despite every attempt to save them, the mother and baby both died.
Unfortunately, Hutch’s on-call rotation ended on that note. What he desperately wanted was to stay at the hospital and lose himself in work, trying to get those images out of his head. But that choice would endanger the patients in his care because of his extreme exhaustion.
Instead, he would do the mature, responsible thing. He would go home and sleep.
* * *
Simone bounced from day to day on a bubble of pure happiness. All of her problems were still out there on the horizon, but for now, life was good.
The masquerade party appeared destined to be a smashing success. Over 95 percent of the invitees had responded with an enthusiastic yes.
Thanks to Simone and her staff, the event received unprecedented saturation in both traditional print media and radio as well as blogs, email blasts and social media. Naomi and Cecelia had coordinated an entire crew of volunteers to help transform the ballroom. Tomorrow, the actual decorations would start going up.
Every day, Simone tried on the red dress, almost superstitiously afraid to leave anything to chance. She’d heard some pregnant women say they’d had to resort to maternity clothes overnight. One day they were fine with their jeans unzipped, the next, nothing fit.
She didn’t want that to happen to her.
Knowing that Hutch would be her date for the party was both exciting and alarming. Even with Hutch wearing a mask, everyone would know who he was. Then the speculation would begin.
It probably already had, but this would be the first and likely only time she and Hutch would make an official appearance as a couple. Simone was pregnant. Hutch was back from Africa. Lots of people would make educated guesses.
She hadn’t heard a word from him in almost four days. Fortunately, she wasn’t the kind of woman who needed constant attention from a man. Still, when he neither texted nor called, she began to wonder if she had done something to upset him.
Though she was feeling markedly more like herself, Dr. Fetter had been insistent that Simone not overdo it. Thus, even though Thursday would be the last full workday before the party, Simone closed the office at five sharp on Wednesday and drove herself home.
Now that she felt like eating again—at least most of the time—she was actually hungry. Would Hutch be up for dinner at a quiet restaurant? Honestly, that sounded wonderful to Simone. This pregnancy was taking more of a toll on her body than she had anticipated. Her usual fount of energy was nowhere to be seen. Unwinding with Hutch and a nice, juicy steak might perk her up.
On a whim, she texted him before getting in the shower. By the time she was clean and dry and dressed, he still hadn’t answered. Frowning, she tried to recall his schedule. She was almost certain he’d said he’d be off on Thursday and Friday, which meant that his shift should have ended this afternoon.
Maybe she would pick up carryout Chinese and go over to his house. If he was tired, too, he might welcome the food and the company. At one time, she would have been reluctant to invade his privacy. They’d been on good terms lately, though.
She sent him another text.
Still, he did not answer.
Bit by bit, her confidence eroded. She and Hutch were temporary. They both acknowledged that. What if Hutch had met someone else? What if he regretted his offer to escort her to the masquerade ball?
Maybe he and the mystery woman were over at his house now christening Hutch’s new bed. He’d been sleeping on a mattress on the floor, but she had met the furniture delivery truck day before yesterday and opened Hutch’s house so the men could set up the massive cherry king-size bed in the master suite.
Even with misgivings swirling in her stomach, she grabbed her keys and climbed into the car. Unfortunately, the Chinese restaurant was in the wrong direction, but the detour gave her more time to think. The order took no time at all. When she arrived at Hutch’s place, the house was dark, and his car was in the driveway.
Now, she began to get worried. What if he were ill?
That was dumb. The man was a doctor. He was more than capable of taking care of himself.
>
Again, she wondered if his sudden absence from her life was because he had realized he was wasting his time. The man had a strongly developed moral conscience. Perhaps it had finally occurred to him that Simone was not meant to be a part of his life.