Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Do you have a comment on the lost sailors?”
“Will the hospital be issuing an official statement about the injuries these men sustained?”
“Have all of the sailors been discharged at this point?”
Tabitha shouldered through the crowd of media professionals, tuning out their repeated requests.
Even though they had designated areas where they were assigned to congregate, it didn’t stop all of them, and Tabitha was tired of being accosted with their questions each time she tried to make her way through the hospital’s doors.
“Rumor has it there is a dying man in need of a liver transplant, and that his estranged brother refuses to see if he’s a match.”
Tabitha whipped her head in the direction of a young journalist with her microphone pushed out at full arm’s length.
“Where did you hear that?” She knew better than to engage, but something in her reeled and she couldn’t help it.
“Sources say the brother is actually still serving jailtime for attempted murder.”
“Sources are wrong.” Tabitha held the reporter’s gaze, locking in a stare down.
“But you can confirm that one of the sailors is being treated for liver cancer?”
“I cannot disclose any information pertaining to any patient within these hospital walls.”
Another reporter stepped up. “Is it true that Assemblyman Taylor is a possible match?”
Tabitha’s eyes went wide. Where were they getting any of this obscure and completely fabricated information from?
“I have a surgery to prepare for.” At the same moment she said this, Dr. Conklin came up behind her, draping his large arm over her shoulder to usher her into the safety of the building.
“You don’t have to—and probably shouldn’t—speak to them,” he said once they were inside, the automatic doors sliding shut behind them.
“I didn’t mean to. I know better than that.
It’s just—” She glanced over her shoulder and out the windows at the journalists with their cameras and microphones.
A wave of nausea swirled through her stomach.
“They’ve got it all wrong. They said something about the assemblyman testing to be a potential donor. ”
“That’s actually something that’s on the table.”
“What?” She nearly choked on her tongue. “Since when?”
They moved toward the elevators at the back of a long, sterile hallway where thankfully, the reporters were out of sight and earshot.
“I’m assuming it’s another diversion tactic, but I heard Assemblyman Taylor wants to see if he’s a match.
I mean, it does make for great journalism, right?
Two sailors once lost at sea form a bond to last a lifetime.
” Dr. Conklin spread his hands out in the air as though reading the words on a light up marquee.
“Turns this illegal fishing trip into something heartfelt. Turns Assemblyman Taylor from a villain into a hero. It’s genius, really. ”
“And we’re going to just let him?”
“Anyone can be tested, Tabitha. We can’t really stop him, especially since Jim is onboard with it.”
Tabitha couldn’t believe any of this. In all her years as a surgeon, she’d never had the people she loved thrust into the media spotlight like this. Those terrible things they were saying about Foster? She couldn’t stomach it. This was new territory. Territory she didn’t like one little bit.
“I’ve got a surgery in thirty,” Dr. Conklin said. “I’ll sync up with you after.”
Tabitha had time before her first surgery of the day, so she headed toward the cafeteria to sit down with her thoughts. Honestly, she would have preferred to scrub in, just to focus on something—anything—other than the circus outside.
She wanted to tell Foster. Give him a heads up that his name might very well be drug through the Seascape Shores Tribune mud. But she couldn’t. It wasn’t her place, even though she had been placed directly into the middle of it all.
The cafeteria was quiet at this hour, just a few family members of patients grabbing a quick bite.
Tabitha threaded through the line, picking up a blueberry muffin and banana before heading toward the coffee machine near the back that made instant lattes and mochas.
It would never give Curly Joe’s a run for its money, but on a day like today when she needed that burst of caffeine to pick her up, it would do.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Balancing her tray and steadying her drink onto it, she paced the cafeteria toward an empty table and settled into her seat. Another text vibrated her cellphone.
Tabitha had planned to ignore it. Everyone close to her knew she was at the hospital this morning, and they would save their texts until later.
But having a phone repeatedly buzz was enough to make anyone curious.
She peeled the wrapper off her muffin and took her phone out of her pocket with her other hand.
Mark.
What on earth was he contacting her about now? She hadn’t talked with the man in forever and now, within a week, he’d tried to connect with her not once, but twice? Something was amiss.
She typed in her passcode when her phone didn’t recognize her face as she took a large bite of the baked good.
Mark: Please tell Camille I’m sorry for any sort of distress this has caused her and her new husband. But good news, right? Looks like Assemblyman Taylor will be the perfect donor.
Did he know something Tabitha didn’t? And why was he reaching out to her about this?
Against her better judgment, she composed a reply, unable to let his cryptic message go.
Tabitha: We’ll just have to see if he’s a match.
Mark: You haven’t heard? The results are already in. He is. It’s almost as if this entire expedition was meant to be. Serendipity.
She bit into a plump, sour blueberry and grimaced. Not exactly how Tabitha would word it.
Tabitha: You politicians certainly are good at twisting things to fit your narrative.
She didn’t get a reply, nor did she expect one. And while she didn’t love getting early morning texts from her frustrating ex-brother-in-law, she was mildly grateful for the heads up on this information. Because it did change things. For Foster. For Jim.
And for Camille.
This would be a huge relief for her sister, and Tabitha knew it. She just wondered how she would be able to break through Camille’s worry without simultaneously breaking hospital policy. It was a fine line that she wasn’t positive she would be able to walk.
“Can you believe all of the junk that’s washed up on shore?
” Camille stabbed at a hamburger wrapper cartwheeling down the beach with the clawed end of her trash pickup tool.
“I’m grateful for the calm in the storm and that it gives us a chance to tidy up around here, but I didn’t realize how much tidying we would actually be doing. ”
“All of that wind blew in some pretty gnarly stuff.” Tabitha had already filled one trash bag and was working on her second. “I think a beach cleanup day is something our entire town could benefit from.”
“We haven’t had one of those since we’ve been living here, have we? I know Seascape used to hold an annual one, but I think Martha Dunswell was in charge of it.”
That made sense. Martha was a sweet elderly lady who had resided in Seascape Shores since she was a young girl.
Her family was considered to be one of the founding ones.
They typically organized the volunteer beautification efforts, but in recent years, Martha’s memory had begun to wane, and her physical ability to get out and volunteer had diminished.
It was probably time for her to pass the torch, and Tabitha wondered if that was something Camille ever thought about taking up.
“You know, the Inn could sponsor something like this. Serve as the homebase for a beach cleanup day. We could have everyone meet there and pass out the supplies. I’m sure Morgan would be willing to donate some pastries, and I could talk with the hospital to see if they might be willing to supply things like trash bags and gloves.
I’m sure between the two of us and our connections, we could easily pull something like that off. ”
Camille bent at the waist to collect an old two-liter bottle with the label completely gone. “Or I could just take care of it on my own. It’s not that much work.”
“Seascape Shores stretches over five miles of coastline. That’s a lot of beach to cover.”
Her sister just shrugged. “I don’t want to put anyone out.”
Cinching up the top of the second trash bag and setting it aside, Tabitha gave her sister a long look. “What’s really going on, Cam? I’m all for being out here to help you clean up the post-storm mess, but is this the mess you really need help with?”
Something flashed across Camille’s face. She pushed back her hair and took a deep breath of ocean air. Angled her gaze out at the sea that still whipped and whirled despite the calmer skies overhead. “I’m worried about Foster.”
“How so?”
Camille peeled off her gloves and jammed them into her pocket before pacing toward the Inn just a few yards away. She sat on the last step of the back deck where the wood transitioned to sand, in between two terracotta pots filled with succulents. Tabitha joined her.
“I’m worried about all of this drama with his brother,” Camille said softly. “What it’s doing to him mentally.”
“How’s he handling it?”
“Quietly, which is what bothers me the most. I would feel better about things if he just blew up. Shouted that his brother doesn’t deserve anything of his and that he should rot in hell.”
“That would make you feel better?”
Camille tipped her cheek to one shoulder in a half shrug. “Yeah, as weird as it sounds, it would. Because then I would at least have an idea how he feels. Right now, it’s like he’s just processing it all alone. Like he doesn’t want to bother me with any of it.”
“He probably doesn’t. He knows how you can spiral.”
“That’s not fair.” Camille cut Tabitha a look. “I understand that I tend to blow things out of proportion, but that doesn’t mean he can’t share with me.”
“I think he’s trying to protect you from yourself. Trying to sort through this on his own so you don’t have to.”
“But I’m his wife. This is my role. It’s what I signed up for, and it’s what I want.”
“Have you tried telling him that?”
“I’ve told him that I’m here for him however he may need me.”
“So maybe right now he just needs your silent support,” Tabitha suggested. “You do have the tendency to go straight to the worst-case scenario, Cami. I would understand how Foster might want to avoid that in this particular situation.”
“I go to the worst-case scenario because we’ve had the worst-case scenario happen to us, Tab. And I hadn’t been prepared for that at the time with Mom and Dad. Not even a little bit.”
Tabitha understood. Goodness knows she had her own way of dealing with her demons. For heaven’s sake, she’d been the one acting fearful about a pathetic storm earlier that week.
“I wasn’t prepared when they died, and maybe if I had been, it wouldn’t have been so traumatizing.”
“I doubt that. I think when tragedy strikes—even if you are prepared—it still changes you. But that’s just life, Camille. Learning to expect, and even accept, the unexpected.”
Maybe Tabitha had an easier time with that. Her job definitely trained her well in that area. But she could still empathize with Camille’s anxiety in all of this. And she wished she could take that worry from her by letting her know that Foster might not even need to be a match anymore.
“Mark texted me again.”
Camille’s eyes sprung open. “What? Why does he keep reaching out to you? What now?”
“I think the media is going to cover this sooner than later, so I don’t think it’s a huge problem if I tell you first.”
“I don’t want you to compromise anything—”
“I’m not going to share any more than I feel comfortable,” Tabitha assured. “All I will say is that even if Foster is a match, there might be other options.”
“As in, other possible donors?”
Tabitha didn’t answer, just gave her sister a long look.
“I don’t know how that makes me feel,” Camille finally admitted after a long pause.
“I mean, I was even thinking of testing to see if I’m a possible match, but it never occurred to me that there might be other people interested in helping Jim out, too.
So, he actually has friends, huh? Who would have thought? ”
“I don’t know much more than that, but hopefully it helps take a weight off of Foster’s shoulders.”
“I’m not sure that it does.”
“Really? I thought this would be a relief. I figured it would give Foster an out.”
“Honestly, it just complicates things. Because he’s his brother. How would it look for Foster to let someone else step in where he could, and probably should?”
“It doesn’t matter how it looks to anyone on the outside.
That’s not the way to make a decision. We all have to do what’s best for ourselves, and for those closest to us,” Tabitha said.
“I mean, I’m a prime example. To anyone on the outside, it probably looked crazy for me to turn down the position as Chief.
I had been so vocal over the years about that being my professional goal.
But sometimes those goals change. And sometimes the goal is to create margin, joy, and peace in your life.
And the only way to do that is to make the decisions that will bring about those things.
Foster doesn’t need to trouble himself with what others think.
As long as you two are on the same page, that’s all that matters. ”
“I know. You’re right. I just don’t want trouble following him again. Back when he and his brother had their feud, it was all over the papers.”
“It makes good news. It almost reads like a story.”
“Right, and that’s why I feel like Foster is caught between a rock and a hard place with this.
It’s one of those damned if he does, damned if he doesn’t situations.
If he’s a match and he chooses to go through with this, it’ll make the news because it’s a heartwarming story of forgiveness and reconciliation.
People eat that up. And if he doesn’t, it will still headline because it’s a brother refusing to help out his very own blood.
People like tragic stories almost as much as happy endings. It’s twisted, but it’s true.”
“And if he’s not a match?”
“Then he’s off the hook, I suppose.”
“So, is that what we should start hoping for?” Tabitha couldn’t read her sister, and that usually came as second nature.
Camille shook her head. “I don’t feel right praying for something simply because it’ll make my husband’s life easier, while at the same time it might ruin the life of a man I only have negative energy toward.”
“Seems like you’re also stuck between a rock and a hard place with this, sis.”
“Seems like sometimes I live there.”
“Don’t we all?” Tabitha snorted a laugh and slid her arm over her sister’s shoulder, drawing her into her side. “Don’t we all?”