Chapter 9

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Quietly, they rode the elevator to the ICU. Mike left them alone in Trixie's room. The beautiful temptress who filled his fantasies for a year lay pale and unresponsive surrounded by the tools of modern medicine. He walked to the desk and began looking through her chart. In a room at the end of the hall, alarms screeched, and the crash team ran to try to save another patient. He watched the family cowering in the hall. Mike glanced at the chart for that room and then another, and another. All the patients' toxicology results were the same, a potentially lethal cocktail of narcotics, legal and illegal. Soon, a doctor came out and an older woman began screaming her grief, as an older man and young girl tried to hold her up.

Mike walked back to Trixie's room with a heavy heart; the drug cocktail affected the nervous system first and later the heart and liver. Patients who drank alcohol with the drugged punch were more likely die. A nurse noted that Bernie reported Trixie vomited violently for several minutes before she collapsed from her first seizure. He hoped, for her family's sake, it cleared enough of the poison from her body so she would live. Her vitals were better than the others. He paused respectfully as they took the dead away with the bereft family following. When he opened the door, he put on a brave face.

Bernie wiped away her tears as she smoothed her sister's hair. Emma looked ashen, holding her granddaughter's hand. He hated to take them away, but he also didn't want them here if Trixie crashed. He was worried the stress would be too much for Emma's condition.

"I'm sorry, Miss Austen, it's time to get you back to your room. If you want to stay, Bernie, I'll talk to the nurses upstairs," Mike offered, half-lying, "But you should know, Trixie is doing a lot better than the others. I am sure she'll wake up soon, so if you want to go home and get some rest, I can text you if there is a change."

Emma straightened her spine and patted Bernie's arm. "Let's go, Dr. Mason. Bernadette, I want you to go home and get some sleep. If I see you before 9AM, you will be in trouble, young lady."

Bernie stood up, "I'll go with you back to your room, Grandmum, then I'll go home."

They rode in the lift to the cardiology ward in silence. Bernie kissed her grandmum good night and left without any small talk as Mike went back to checking his practice's patients.

Later, Bernie laid in her childhood room in her grandmother's large Victorian house. Its emptiness felt like her soul without her grandmum and sister. She sobbed herself to sleep.

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Bernie called her manager Craig first thing on the second of January. She was supposed to be back at the University on the third to work the hospital coffee kiosk and be barista for

the Spring Pre-Semester faculty luncheon. He was shocked to hear about the toxic fruit punch, or Pharm-punch as the police called it, that had been given out at the December 29th Rave. Bernie revealed four people died, besides the sixty-two hospitalized. There was nearly a dozen who were still in comas, but Trixie seemed better than most. Trixie was one of the lucky ones to wake up at all.

Her Grandmum's prognosis was worse. Dr. Mason revealed to Bernie if Emma didn't change her health habits she could be dead in less than two years, and it could already be too late to prolong her life.

"You do what you have to do to take care of your family, Bernie." Craig tried to comfort Bernie as she stoically apologized, "I'm so sorry. I'll probably have to leave on some unknown date to... to make her funeral arrangements. I just hope it isn't before graduation in eighteen months."

She was his most valuable asset in the culinary arts work-study program and often went above and beyond her expected duties. He promised, "Whatever you need, I'll make the arrangements. I'm here if you need to talk, Bernie."

"Thanks, Craig. I'll be back as soon as I can. Bye."

Trixie reached over and squeezed Bernie's hand as she said goodbye to her boss. She woke up yesterday and was grateful she was still alive. Mr. Thornton got all charges dropped with the threat of a lawsuit for failure to provide medical care which almost cost his client her life and had taken the lives of others. He and three other lawyers were handling a class action lawsuit against the city and judge, but it looked like there would be a settlement made.

"Hey," Trixie said with a thick tongue.

"Good morning." Bernie was grateful to be saying it to her sister again. She offered her a sip of water which Trixie gladly accepted.

"So, Grandmum's on a clock?" Trixie asked with shining eyes.

"Yeah, but then hasn't she always been since Jane died?" Bernie pointed out.

Trixie nodded, and they sat in silence for a few minutes, before she said, "She's just been holding on until we were grown up."

"I know," Bernie agreed, then inhaled as if she were in pain. "I hope she makes it to graduation though. I want her to be proud of me."

"I have always been proud of you both," Emma's voice came from the door; a nurse was bringing her for her morning visit to Trixie. "And I see now, I am going to have to have a talk with that fine young doctor about filling your heads with nonsense."

"Grandmum! You're early." Bernie squeaked in surprise as Trixie quickly wiped her eyes.

"Yes, I have some tests to do later this morning, and I wasn't going to let that doctor cheat me out of seeing my girls," Emma announced as the nurse left, then she whispered to Trixie. "My darling, give your old grandmum a cigarette."

Trixie laughed and shook her head. "I was going to ask you for one. They took mine away too." She raised her sleeve to show a nicotine patch.

"Fascist!" Emma hissed then looked at Bernie. "Sweetie?"

"No... Don't even ask, Grandmum, because the answer is no. They told me if I brought you any cigarettes or bourbon, they would ban me from the hospital," Bernie stated resolutely.

Emma sighed in an exaggerated way. "How many days until I get out of this prison? Oh wait, this is worse than prison, in prison you can have tobacco. Tell me, Trixie, is the food here better or worse than jail?"

Trixie smirked at her, "It's worse, Grandmum, way worse. In jail, those who cook the meals have to eat them too, here... I think they just open cans of dog food and pour it over rice. Sis, I'm begging, please bring us some good food."

Bernie laughed at them, but agreed, "I'll talk to Dr. Mason about your diet, Grandmum, and see what I can do."

"Bribe him with muffins, he told me how much he misses your muffins," Trixie encouraged.

"I think he might like your muffin better," Emma pointed out and Bernie busted out laughing as Trixie turned darker red than her hair.

"Grandmum! Not here. What if he came in?"

"But we're just talking pastries, darling. What are you talking about?" Emma blinked at her innocently then grinned like the cat who swallowed the canary.

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"Why didn't you tell me?" Alex demanded hotly.

Bernie chewed her lip, staring at him with large, wet eyes that reminded him of his mother's favorite chocolate diamond ring. Her voice was hesitant. "You were on vacation."

"So what? You should have told me," Alex insisted angrily.

"Why? You couldn't come back, and everything is fine now," Bernie argued.

"I only stayed an extra week because you lied to me. I should have been there for you." His response caught her off-guard and his patronizing tone offended her a little.

"You don't need to take care of me, I'm not helpless! Grandmum is home and Trixie made a full recovery. I didn't need you." The last sentence was a lie and it tasted like burnt tea in the back of her throat.

Alex took a step back as though she struck him. His words were quiet and pained as he turned away. "Did you ever think that maybe I need you? I need to be there for you?"

He left his coffee, half-empty on the counter and walked toward the door. He got off duty at 10PM and she couldn't chase after him because she wasn't off until 3AM. She wiped her tears, poured out the coffee, then crushed the cup with uncharacteristic violence. Her mind was fighting her heart. She wasn't helpless, she had sworn to herself she would never be helpless again, but she longed to take his pain away. During the rest of her shift, she served the usuals and sold her pastries, and in between studied for her first Restaurant Management 3001 exam. It was hard to concentrate while trying not to see the pain in his ice blue eyes when she lied about not needing him.

She went back to her room at the boarding house and collapsed into bed. Too soon the alarm was beeping at her to get up for class. He didn't text her his usual "Good morning, beautiful" and her heart ached even more. She hated how she felt.

She checked her phone a dozen times; each time almost sending an apology, but her pride wouldn't let her. She had not wanted him to worry and thought he should have been happy to enjoy his family time without worrying about her dysfunctional family. Finally, her phone died, and she was grateful for a reason to stop checking it. As she tried to pay attention to the lecture in her sommelier class, her conscience nagged her to apologize. At the end of class, she realized she hadn't retained anything that was said.

Bernie drove home with a heavy heart then went running by herself in the freezing rain. She sat on the bluff as the drizzle lessened and looked at the surrounding city until the sun began to set between broken clouds.

Jogging back, she showered, and threw together some cookies. As she wrapped them, two of her roommates came in and made small talk. At the hospital coffee kiosk, she hoped Alex would come by, but he didn't. At 10:30PM, she called Craig and explained she was sick because she started coughing. She just wanted to go home and curl up in bed. Her boss came instead of sending someone else.

"Wow, Bernie, you look terribly pale. Maybe you should take a few days off," Craig offered. The last thing he wanted was to lose his best barista, Bernie brought in twice the business of the other and made the overnight hospital shift worth keeping.

"Thanks, Craig. I think the last few weeks are catching up with me," she said in excuse, then coughed violently.

"Well, get some sleep, we'll switch it up for a few days, and I'll see you Saturday," He promised. He looked at the receipts and smiled, asking, "When is my next rush?"

Bernie grinned and quickly scribbled a list of the regulars and their beverages of choice. "About midnight and 2:30 will be everyone trying to get through the night."

She gave him a wave and coughed all the way to her car. The air was so cold and damp it was hard to breath. Back at

the boarding house, Bernie fell asleep before her tea cooled enough to drink it.

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Alex arrived at the coffee kiosk close to midnight and was surprised the work-study restaurant manager was making coffees. He left and went back to the Phi Theta Kappa frat house; grateful it was Tuesday and there wasn't a party going on. He tried to text Bernie but the text he sent remained unread. He hated the fight he and Bernie had, but what she said about not needing him hurt him deeply and he walked away. A choice he greatly regretted.

The next morning, she still hadn't checked her messages. He stopped at her midday class on the way to his residency shift and she wasn't there. That evening he was at the coffee kiosk when Craig came in to work at 9PM in Bernie's place.

"Hey, Alex, whatcha drinking, sport?" Craig asked.

"Uh, Bernie usually makes me a caramel cinnamon almond milk latte. Is... has something happened?" Alex asked cautiously.

Craig looked at him surprised as he frothed the almond milk. "She didn't call you? She left sick last night." Craig shook his head. "That girl... Always having to be the strong one. She takes care of everything and everyone, but then she gets sick and doesn't call her boyfriend, the doctor."

"We had a little disagreement, she didn't tell me what happened New Year's, just left me hanging out with my family thinking everything was fine," Alex complained, even though he knew it wasn't little to either of them.

Craig looked surprised then shook his head sadly, "That was a tough few days. Her sister almost died from tainted

fruit punch at a rave and ended up being sent straight from jail to the ICU, then her grandmum had a heart attack in court and spent a week in the cardiac unit. I can't believe she didn't tell you. Honestly, I have never met anyone so determined to be... oh, I don't know what she is. Stubborn and moose-headed comes to mind."

"She's afraid of being dependent on anyone." Alex looked out toward the parking lot and the rain through the giant windows. "She said she didn't want to ruin my vacation and she didn't need me."

He handed Alex his drink as Alex swiped his card. Craig looked at Alex with an intensity that surprised him. "Oh, she needs you, you're really good for her. She just doesn't know how to ask for someone to be there for her without offering to give something back. Every shift she missed, she offered to work double to make up for it. You need to make her realize being cared about doesn't cost her anything." Craig looked to the next customer as Alex headed out of the hospital lobby.

Alex jogged across campus to the frat house, went inside. He changed clothes, grabbed his keys, and drove quickly to Bernie's boarding house. He knocked and Annie, one of her new roommates answered. They met several times at the hospital; Annie was a third-year nurse practitioner student.

"Hey, Annie, sorry it's so late." Apologetically, Alex asked, "Is Bernie here?"

"Uhm, isn't she at the coffee bar?" Annie stepped out of the way to let him in.

"No, and she wasn't at class today either," Alex announced as he headed to Bernie's room.

"Bernie, it's Alex." He knocked, and when she didn't answer, he opened the door.

The room was hot and smelled of sweat and sickness. Bernie was curled in her bed, coughing.

"Omigawd, Bernie!" Annie said shocked as Alex peeled the blankets back.

Bernie's hair was stuck to her face, and she didn't open her eyes when he touched. "Bernie... Bernadette... open your eyes." He could tell she was too warm. "Do you have a thermometer?" he demanded of Annie, and she ran to her room.

A moment later she was back with an ear probe scanner thermometer, she stuck it in Bernie ear and gasped as she showed Alex the reading, 106.4F.

Alex scooped up Bernie in his arms and carried her out to his car. He ran three lights as he texted Dr. Mahdif he was coming in hot with Bernie and her symptoms. He parked in the ambulance lane and was lifting her out when Mahdif and RN Stephanie ran out with a gurney. The security guard told Alex to go with them, he'd move Alex's car. They rushed inside. Surprisingly, Bernie's temp had risen two-tenths of a degree despite being outside in the cold air.

"Get a straight line with Dex5 and electrolytes and fill the cooling bath now. I want CBC panel and chest x-rays as soon as she is out of the bath," Alex ordered harshly.

"Dr. Marvillis, you are here as a friend of the patient, not her doctor," Dr. Mahdif reminded calmly, "Stephanie, order it under me and an antipyretic. Let's get her in the bath."

They laid Bernie in an eight-inch-deep clear plastic tray. The pumps forced 90F degree water into it and they covered her in a cooling blanket. Bernie began to thrash and scream for Winston to stop. Alex's heart broke as he restrained her with Stephanie's help.

"Whose Winston?" Stephanie demanded.

"The man who raped her when she was twelve," Alex answered without thinking. "Bernie, it's Alex. Winston's not here, he won't hurt you. You're safe, Bernie. You're just sick."

Bernie looked through him with fever-delirium widened eyes, begging, "Please, I'm cold, Mommy. I don't want a strawberry sundae. Please, don't leave me with him. He hurt me." Her whole body was trembling so violently in the cooling bath, it sloshed on them as they held her down.

"Shh, I know, babe. You never have to eat strawberry ice cream again, I promise. You're safe, Winston can never hurt you again." Alex promised as she struggled weakly to get out of the water.

Her temperature was going down quickly as the cool water and medicine worked, but she still mumbled. All they could do was wait until her fever decreased enough for her to be rational again, for her horror to be pushed away again. Minutes passed with glacial slowness.

"Alex?" Bernie whispered then coughed violently, sloshing water on him again as she lifted her head out of the cool water. "Where am I?"

"The hospital. It's okay, Bernadette. You've got a dangerously high fever. You have to stay in the bath. Lay back in the water, I'm right here. I'll never leave you." Alex insisted, and Bernie put her head back in the six inches of cool water.

She squeezed his hand and shuddered as the water circulated around her. He smoothed her hair and carefully wet her forehead. She closed her eyes and relaxed.

He looked up at Stephanie who was looking between them with a horrified expression. It was then he realized he told Bernie's secret. "Steph, you can't say anything to anyone. She's in therapy with Dr. Perthon, but she still hasn't told anyone outside her family except me."

Stephanie nodded, blinking back her tears. "It makes sense now." Then she looked at him, "Wait... Rochelle is two-hundred dollars a half hour, how can she afford it? She's on work-study."

"She can't but I can, I told her I got it arrange through her insurance." Alex admitted. Bernie's temperature was almost normal, and she almost seemed to be asleep. "A few more minutes and we can get her out."

"You're a good man, Dr. Marvillis." Stephanie praised him.

Shrugging, Alex declared, "She's worth it."

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Bernadette woke up in the hospital; she vaguely remembered leaving work and nightmares about Winston and IT. Her mother was making her swim in ice cream and then Alex was there telling her she was sick, and he was trying to help her. Something heavy was laying on her arm.

"Alex?" she barely whispered his name, but his head jerked up like it was on a spring.

"Babe?" He blinked at her like he wasn't sure if she was really awake. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired and my chest hurts," she admitted.

"You've got double pneumonia, but the meds should clear it up in a week or so." He said as he felt her cheek. "Dang, Bernie, I was so scared when I found you unresponsive."

"You found me?" She asked, "I thought you were mad at me."

"I was but that doesn't matter, you were sick, you should have called me."

He took her hands, very careful not to bump her IV. "I know you said you don't need me, but I need you. I need to take care of you the way you take care of me." He reached under his tee-shirt and pulled out a chain. Unclipping it he took it off and dropped something round and shiny in his hand. "I wanted to give this to you on the beach. You told me to ask you next year and I am."

He held up a simple gold ring with a chocolate-colored diamond, he knew she hated the clear ones. "Bernadette Austen, will you marry me?"