Chapter Five
“I’ve called you here today because we need to discuss next steps,” Dr. Myers began.
Steven struggled to draw breath with all the bodies wedged in around his bed. His room in the ICU hadn’t appeared so small until his family, Rose, and several members of the medical staff crowded in. He shifted uncomfortably in the tight quarters. At least his neck brace had been removed.
“We’ve been monitoring Steven since his surgery, and I’m pleased with the progress he’s made. If things continue to look up, we plan to move him tomorrow.” Dr. Myers gestured to Dr. Bhati, who stood beside him near the door.
“With Steven potentially transferring out of the ICU, it’s time to start discussing next steps,” Dr. Bhati said.
“What do you suggest?” Rose asked from Steven’s right side.
Dr. Bhati frowned. “That will depend on what sort of living arrangement is available to Steven. His injuries will restrict his mobility, even once we’re able to move him to a wheelchair. He’ll need a lot of assistance, especially in the beginning as he’s learning how to compensate for his limited abilities.”
“He lives alone.” Dad rested a hand on the left-hand bed rail. “In a two-story house where the beds are on the second floor.”
“That presents a problem,” Dr. Myers said. “Even if his mobility wasn’t limited, I wouldn’t want him climbing the stairs for a few weeks while his heart heals.”
“Can a hospital bed be set up downstairs?” Dr. Bhati asked.
Steven scowled. The last thing he wanted was to continue sleeping in an uncomfortable bed once he was home.
“He could stay with me,” Rose suggested. “I have a first-floor condo and a guest room with a twin bed.” She glanced at Steven before continuing, “The doors are wide enough for the wheelchair, but the bathroom isn’t ADA compliant.”
“What about your house, Dad?” Lanie asked. “Could he stay in the den downstairs?”
“It’d be a tight fit for the wheelchair.” Dad scratched the back of his head.
Dr. Bhati raised his hand. “These are all good suggestions, but I have another you might consider.” After sharing a quick glance with Dr. Myers, Dr. Bhati cleared his throat. “There is a wonderful rehabilitation center just down the road. Dr. Myers and I can easily visit with Steven to keep up to date on his progress.”
Rehab?Steven couldn’t believe what he was hearing. While he understood his injuries required some drastic lifestyle changes, he hadn’t imagined he would be forced to go to another medical facility after his discharge from the hospital.
“I can’t go to rehab,” he protested. “I want to go home.”
Dr. Myers blew out an exasperated breath. “Steven, you have a broken leg and a bruised spine, which means you won’t be walking for the foreseeable future.” He gestured to Rose and Steven’s family. “Based on what your family has said, there isn’t anywhere you can stay that will meet your needs. If we can’t get you the care you require, how do you expect to return home?”
Steven crossed his arms carefully, mindful of both the IV sticking out of his right arm and the bandage over his heart. Truthfully, he didn’t have an answer to Dr. Myers’s question, but he wasn’t going to give the doctor the satisfaction of admitting that.
“Why don’t we agree to two weeks?” Dr. Bhati suggested. “It will give you more time to heal and learn how to function with your temporary disabilities. Then we can reassess at that point.”
“Are you able to give a better prognosis for how long the paralysis will last?” Rose asked.
Dr. Bhati shook his head. “Draining the fluid helped significantly, but it’s difficult to tell the extent of the bruising. We’ll run another MRI this afternoon to try to get a better idea. But regardless, he’ll need extensive physical therapy, which he unfortunately can’t start until his leg heals. The next six months are going to be critical for Steven’s recovery.”
“And you’ll need to make some changes to your lifestyle,” Dr. Myers added. “Consider this heart attack a warning. If you don’t take care of yourself, it may be worse next time.”
“Next time?” Lanie’s voice sounded strangled.
“Having a heart attack can increase the likelihood of another one, but there are ways to avoid it.”
“Don’t worry, Doc,” Dad said. “We’ll make sure he does what needs doing to get back on his feet.”
“If we’re in agreement on the rehabilitation center”—Dr. Bhati gave a meaningful look to his patient—“then I can call over there this afternoon to request a bed for Steven. Assuming everything goes well, we may be able to transfer him by the end of this week.”
Rose, Lanie, and Dad turned toward Steven. With a sigh of resignation, he nodded.
“I’ll go to rehab for two weeks on one condition.”
Lanie raised an eyebrow. “Which is?”
He pointed at her. “That you bring me work updates every day so my business doesn’t go under.”
Rose opened her mouth as if to protest, but Lanie put a hand on her arm to stop her. With pursed lips, Lanie appeared to mull over his request. For a moment, he worried she would say no, but she finally gave him a small smile and a quick nod.
“Fine, but only if you promise to follow the doctors’ orders religiously.”
“Deal.” Steven breathed a little easier. If he could catch up on work while he was in rehab, perhaps he could save his business after all.
Dr. Myers frowned in disapproval before he and Dr. Bhati left. Lanie and Dad followed them out into the hallway, likely to get more information on the rehab facility.
Only Rose remained. At first, she stared at the floor, refusing to meet his gaze. But when she finally looked at him, he was taken aback by the warring anger and fear in her eyes. His stomach clenched as he worried what he might have just sacrificed to save his livelihood.
Steven slept fitfully that night. Despite his exhaustion, he couldn’t turn his mind off. Thoughts raced through his head. How long until I walk again? How am I going to keep my practice going while I’m stuck here? What will happen to my clients? And the question he didn’t dare speak aloud but that encompassed his greatest fear. Will Rose change her mind about marrying me if I lose everything?
That last one caused a pain in his chest that had nothing to do with the heart attack or his accident. He’d been looking forward to marrying her for so long. He wanted to start their lives together, and the accident had proved to him that they had no time to waste. Life was short, and he didn’t want to lose another moment. They’d planned to start trying for a family soon after the honeymoon. The thought of losing all of that caused an ache that no amount of medication could ease.
Seeing the hurt in her eyes after the doctors left had almost broken through his resolve. He’d agreed to the two weeks in rehab in hopes of softening the blow, but it didn’t appear to have had the desired effect. But she knew how important his business was to him—to both of them. Their future depended on its survival, and to ensure the firm survived, he needed those two weeks to fly by so he could return to his office.
Which was likely her other concern. She hadn’t brought up him hiring help again, but he suspected it was on her mind. And if he were honest, he could admit bringing on someone to assist with his cases would help lighten his load during his recovery. But he adamantly refused to take on a partner.
Maybe he could hire a law clerk. They worked for dirt cheap, more for the experience than the money. Hiring one would alleviate some of his workload while not costing as much as a partner, which would ease Rose’s concerns that he was working too hard without bankrupting his practice. It was a win-win.
The door opened, and a new nurse shuffled into the room. She murmured her apologies for waking him before tying a rubber band around his arm and waiting for a vein to appear. He stifled a sigh. Even if he hadn’t been kept up by his own brain, a hospital wasn’t the easiest place to rest. The nurses came in several times during the night, and at least one of those visits involved getting a blood sample. His arm was going to be awfully sore when he was finally released.
When the sun peeked through the blinds, he sighed in relief. Survived another night. With a shake of his head, he chastised himself for such morbid thoughts. As far as he could tell, he was much improved, and he hoped that meant he would be discharged soon.
The door to his room opened. He sat up, expecting Rose, but instead, his sister entered. She carried a bag over her shoulder and greeted him with a smile.
“Oh good, you’re awake.” After sliding the bag down her arm, she set it on the bed and removed stacks of paper. “I stopped by your office this morning and spoke to Sandra. She sends you get-well wishes.”
He harrumphed, though it came out more as a groan. Lanie didn’t seem to notice as she set up various piles on his bed.
“I asked her to help me pull together your most pressing cases so we can determine what needs to be done and how we can do it.”
“Thank you,” he said as he shifted to sit up in bed. Pain shot through his body from the incision in his back, and he winced.
Lanie put a hand on his shoulder and helped prop him up while she adjusted his pillows. It didn’t help, as it was next to impossible to get comfortable after his surgery, but he appreciated the attempt.
“Have you given any more thought to taking on a partner?” she asked.
“No, but I considered hiring a law clerk.”
“And that’s going to be enough?”
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“What can I do in the meantime? The kids go on summer break next week, and I’ll join them a week later. I can pitch in to help if you’ll point me in the right direction.”
His eyebrows shot up, and he gave an incredulous laugh. “You? What do you know about working in a law office?”
“Hey!” She put her hands on her hips. “I manage unruly children all day. How much harder could it be to corral your clients?”
He thought of Mr. Willoughby and shook his head. “You have no idea.”
“Look.” She leveled him with a fierce gaze. “You need to reduce your stress level, and I’m offering to do what I can to help with that. If you’re not willing to cut back on your hours or hire an attorney with experience, then I suspect you’ll be back in this very hospital in a month or less.” Her hazel eyes darkened. “Or worse.”
He wondered what he could trust her to handle. She’d just finished working through their mother’s estate, and he had a couple of clients preparing for probate. Perhaps she could help there.
“Interested in dead people?”
Her eyes widened, and she faltered back a step. When she recovered from his strangely worded question, she stared at him. “You have more estate clients?”
He nodded. “Your experience with Mom’s estate may come in handy. If nothing else, you can hold their hand and help them through probate.” Lifting his left hand, he wagged a finger. “But no legal advice. You’re not qualified.”
Her teeth worried her lower lip as she appeared to consider his request. For a moment, he thought she would refuse, and he couldn’t blame her if she did. She’d hated being the executor of their mother’s estate. They’d once wondered why their mother chose her when Steven, the lawyer, was the obvious choice. Later, he’d suspected it was the only way their mother could guarantee Lanie would return to her hometown and Nate, her fiancé, would keep the promise he’d made to tell Lanie the truth about Mom’s involvement in their breakup. It had all worked out in the end, but if Lanie wasn’t in a hurry to get back into the world of trusts and estates, he completely understood.
As he opened his mouth to tell her to forget it, she squared her shoulders. “All right. I’ll do it.” She twirled a blond lock of hair around her finger. “I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all I ask.”
“Before we delve into this stack of papers, Sandra insisted I give you this note.” Lanie handed him a piece of paper with a phone message scribbled on it.
Steven rolled his eyes because of course it was from his least-favorite client. Mr. Willoughby was demanding Steven contact him the moment he was back in the office. Sandra had added her own colorful language, detailing her conversation with Mr. Willoughby. She’d tried to offer her assistance, but the client had insisted he must speak to Steven.
“It’s my most demanding client,” Steven finally said, figuring that sounded more diplomatic than calling Mr. Willoughby a pain in his rear end. “He’s still sore at me for hanging up on him the other day when I was on my way out the door.”
“Doesn’t he know you’re in the hospital?”
“I have no idea what Sandra told him.” Steven sighed. “But I doubt she would have informed him of my medical issues. She probably said I was out of the office for the foreseeable future.”
“Well, I can call him if you’d like—”
Waving his hand, Steven shook his head. “No, that’ll probably just rile him up more. I’ll deal with him later.” He gestured to the papers in her hand. “Let’s see what you brought for me.”
She gave him a dubious look, and he imagined she was wondering what Rose would say. But she nodded and began handing him documents.
For an hour, they went through the paperwork, with Steven dictating the next steps in each case. By the time Lanie left, Steven’s confidence in the state of his law practice had increased, except for the matter of Mr. Willoughby. While nothing would replace going into the office to get work done, he was glad he could handle some of it remotely. He just hoped he could keep up with it all.