Page 75 of Fourteen of a Kind

“Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Listen, sweetheart. You’re about to operate on a ten-year-old’s brain.”

“And you know I’ve never let my personal problems interfere with my work. The second I enter that operating room, my brain only focuses on my patient.”

“We’ll talk later.” He walked out.

A few seconds later, Graham walked in and began scrubbing in for surgery.

“Ella, I’m sorry.”

“You already said that, and I’m not discussing it anymore. I’ll see you in there.”

I walked into the O.R., where Cassie, one of the scrub nurses, gowned and gloved me. Graham followed behind.

“Your patient is out, Dr. Kind,” Marty, the anesthesiologist, said.

“Thanks, Marty. Are we ready?” I asked my team. “Cassie, put on my music, please.”

I always listened to classical music while I was in surgery. It helped me relax and focus on my procedure. I reached the tumor. Graham stood closely and watched as I carefully removed it from the patient’s head.

“Would you like to close, Dr. Malone?”

“Yes, definitely, Dr. Kind.”

“Page me when he’s in recovery so I can talk to his parents.” I tore off my gloves and gown and dumped them in the bin before leaving the O.R.

Entering the operating suite, I stood beside Uncle Christian while we watched Graham close the child’s head.

“You could have stayed in there and watched him,” he said.

“I could have.” I watched carefully.

“He’s a skilled surgeon,” Uncle Christian glanced at me.

“He’s also skilled in lying.” I walked away.

My pager went off. Glancing at it, I saw that my patient was in the recovery room. Walking to the surgical waiting area, I spoke with his parents.

“Mr. and Mrs. Taylor.” I walked into the room.

“How is our boy?” Mr. Taylor asked.

“He’s in recovery now. The surgery went very well, and I was able to remove the tumor. He’ll be okay now that it’s out.”

“Thank you, Dr. Kind.” Mrs. Taylor hugged me. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.” I smiled. “One of the nurses will come get you and take you to recovery so you can be there when he wakes up.”

“Thank you.” Mr. Taylor smiled.

I was sitting in my office when Graham walked in.

“Hey, thanks for letting me close.”

“No problem.” I stared at my computer.

“Okay. I can see you’re still mad at me,” he said.

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