Page 37 of Fractured Reunion

If his ex-wife really was heading back to Boston soon, he couldn’t wait any longer to talk to her. Ever since they’d responded to the bus crash, their conversations had been interrupted. His work, mostly, he was forced to acknowledge.

He frowned, remembering how she’d told him to go ahead and take the call because patient care was a priority. Words she’d said many times before.

But for the first time it occurred to him that her saying the words didn’t mean he should have responded the way he had. Why hadn’t he made their marriage a higher priority? It wasn’t as if physicians could ignore their patients, but he tended to keep a close eye on the care provided by the residents.

Some might even accuse him of micromanaging them.

This weekend, he shouldn’t have been on call in the first place, but he had ended up responding to calls and taking Grace to surgery. Yet now that he was looking back, he realized he could have asked another colleague to help cover Fullerton’s case.

But he hadn’t. In truth, the thought hadn’t even occurred to him.

He turned and headed back to his office, feeling sick with the realization that he owned a bigger piece of their failed marriage than he’d previously accepted.

And worse, he was pretty sure that it was too late to do anything about it.

* * *

“Ms. Dall?” A petite blonde poked her head into Joey’s room. “I’m Rochelle, the social worker for this unit.”

Maggie glanced at Joey who was once again engrossed with the television. She moved toward the doorway, not sure it was smart to have this conversation in front of the little boy. “Please call me Maggie,” she said with a smile. “Is there someplace we can talk?”

“Ah, sure. Let’s go down to the lounge.” Rochelle led the way down the hall. “I understand Joey’s father has tried to see him a few times.”

“Yes.” Maggie dropped into the open seat beside Rochelle. “Unfortunately, he collapsed in the hallway. Dr. Aaron Monroe and I initiated CPR and emergency treatment for what we suspected was a narcotic overdose.”

“Yes, I heard all about it from Tina, Joey’s nurse,” Rochelle said. “I just checked with the emergency department social worker; Luanne has informed me that Mr. Chism’s condition has been stabilized.”

“That’s good to hear.” Maggie had wondered how Oliver Chism was doing. It had taken so much Narcan to reverse the effects of whatever drugs he’d ingested, so she knew the outcome could have been much different.

“He owes his life to you and Dr. Monroe,” Rochelle said.

Maggie shrugged. “Anyone else would have done the same. I just happened to be the closest provider.” She didn’t add that the main reason she’d been standing there in the first place was to make sure Chism didn’t get anywhere near his son.

“Well, you did great work.” Rochelle glanced at the tablet on her lap. “As you know, Joey’s mother passed away in the bus crash.”

“Yes, I was there. Aaron—er—Dr. Monroe tried to save her life.” Maggie remembered how he’d called the code after several rounds of CPR and shocking Joey’s mother hadn’t worked.

“I see. I also understand you’ve stayed at Joey’s side since the accident,” Rochelle continued. “The nursing staff have been very impressed with your dedication to Joey.”

“Again, I happened to be the person Joey latched onto.” Maggie knew that if someone else had gone into the bus with Aaron, she wouldn’t be sitting there. “Once I took him from his mother’s arms, he wouldn’t let me go.”

“One of the Children’s Memorial nurses, a Krista Monroe—wait, is she a relation to Dr. Monroe?” Rochelle asked, interrupting herself.

“Yes, she’s married to Adam Monroe, who is a pediatrician on staff. Adam and Aaron are brothers.” The two eldest Monroe sons also looked very much alike, although in her humble opinion, Aaron was more handsome.

“Very interesting. That information certainly helps her case,” Rochelle said as she made a note on her tablet. “I received word that Krista Monroe is requesting Joey be placed with her and her husband on a temporary basis. I’m not sure how familiar you are with the family court system, but it will take time to work through temporary and permanent guardianship.”

So far, Rochelle wasn’t telling Maggie anything she didn’t already know. “Mr. Chism, Joey’s father, has made it clear he would like to have custody of his son.” Maggie forced the statement past her tight throat. “He made that statement again, shortly before he collapsed in the hallway outside his son’s room.”

“I see.” Rochelle’s expression turned grim. “Well, if he overdosed on drugs, he’ll need to prove he’s clean before the judge will consider him as a viable guardian.”

“Clean for how long?” Maggie asked, battling a wave of anger. “He overdosed here at the hospital. Surely that proves he’s not fit to take care of a four-year-old child.”

“That’s true, but Oliver Chism has the right to prove he’s capable of getting clean.” Rochelle’s smile was sad. “Even if that takes six months to a year, the judge will be willing to hear the case once he’s completed a stint in rehab.”

Maggie tried not to let her frustration show. Logically, she knew that Rochelle was only being honest about a foster family getting custody long term, but the thought of Oliver Chism taking Joey home even a year from now, only to fall off the wagon to the point he might overdose in front of his own son, was horrifying.

She linked her fingers together in her lap. “I know it’s probably too soon, but I completed the online application to be a foster parent too. I did that specifically for Joey, as we’ve bonded over the weekend.”

---