I knew something was wrong when he got to the lab before I did.
He sat in the chair at the workbench, one elbow on the armrest, his closed knuckles supporting his chin. His eyes were directed out the window, the sky pale blue because it was so early in the morning. His thick hair wasn’t as dark as his daughter’s, having a bit of gray in it, but it was clear it’d been the same dark color as Derek’s at one point in time. His facial hair was dark like her locks, though. He wore the same angry expression that she had—all in the eyes.
I set my bag on the counter, and he didn’t stir. “Everything alright, Dr. Hamilton?”
His eyes didn’t move away from the window. “I told you to call me Deacon.”
So that was a big fat no.
I took a seat across from him and waited for him to speak.
He stared out the window for a while longer before he dropped his hand from his chin. “Mrs. Ventrose passed away this morning.”
I’d told her that my parents died in the subway—and she’d held my hand. She was literally on her deathbed, and instead of being bitter, she was compassionate. It was always hard to lose a patient, but it was especially hard when you were trying so hard to save their life. If we’d gotten approval for the trials just a little sooner, it could have made a difference. Or maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference at all.
“The hospital paged me. Got there before it happened.” He finally shifted his gaze to me.
Her husband wouldn’t have been able to make it there with the kids in time. In that moment, Dr. Hamilton was all she had. “I wish they’d called me instead.”
“No, you don’t.” He looked away again. “Trust me on that.”
When I looked him over, I realized he was in his blue scrubs.
That meant he didn’t go home afterward. He’d been sitting here, watching the sun rise. “This doesn’t get easier, does it?”
He released a deep breath before he looked at me once more, his gaze so much like Daisy’s, having that same intelligence, that same fire. “No. And even if we save lives in this trial, it doesn’t make up for what we’ve lost.”
I sat with him and looked out the window too.
We didn’t speak another word to each other.
Just sat there.
I flipped through the chart at the bedside, looking at the lab work that had just come in.
Nothing promising.
I lifted my stethoscope from around my neck and put the earpieces in my ears before I listened to Mr. Franken’s heart and then his lungs.
I stilled. “A couple more deep breaths.”
He inhaled deeply again then let out a long exhale.
The crackle was noticeable, but not nearly as much as it used to be.
I stilled as I continued to listen. “Alright. Thank you, Mr. Franken.” I stepped away from the bed and headed to the door.
“Dr. Beaumont, did you notice anything?”
I turned back to him, not wanting to get his hopes up, but too excited not to share. “I think I did. We’ll get a biopsy and a scan so we can get a better look.” I moved down the hallway to the nurses station where our computers were. Dr. Hamilton was there, talking to his wife, who’d brought him lunch.
I moved to the edge of his desk and interrupted their conversation because I was too enthusiastic to be polite. “Dr. Hamilton, I think it’s working.”
Dr. Hamilton had just opened the container to his lunch, but he immediately dropped the lid back to the surface.
Mrs. Hamilton shifted her gaze back and forth between her husband and me then silently excused herself.
Dr. Hamilton rose to his feet and looked me in the eye with the same intensity he’d shown when he knocked out Mason, like he might punch me so hard that my nose would break in several places.
“I listened to Mr. Franken’s lungs. I can tell.”
Dr. Hamilton got his stethoscope ready. “Let’s go.”
On Saturday morning, I drove through the open gate and approached the cabin by the lake. A couple cars were already there. I parked and grabbed my bag from the trunk before I knocked on the door.
There was no answer, so I let myself inside.
It was quiet, no voices present. I left my bag in the entryway then peered out through the glass doors.
Dr. Hamilton sat at the table with his laptop in front of him.
I stepped outside. “So much for taking a day off.”
His eyes lifted to mine, and there was a hint of affection there. “Anxious for the results. I ordered them stat, so…could get them back any minute.”
“You look like you’re the patient waiting on the news.”
“That’s how it feels—every single time.” He closed his laptop and got to his feet before he embraced me with a handshake. “You want a beer?”