Finally, Bethany stood, went to the nearby vending machine, and gestured. “Can I get you something? I could have one of the staff run out to the grocery store to pick you up something?”
Helena shook her head. “I can get something from the machine if I need it.” With that, Helena burrowed herself into her phone, pretending that Bethany didn’t exist.
Again, Bethany was reminded of her teenage children.
Back in her office, Bethany and Gina had a brief powwow about Matteo.
“He’s divorced. No family available to reach out to,” Gina said. “Does that woman know anything?”
“I don’t think so,” Bethany said. “But he’s going to be fine. He can take care of himself when he wakes up tomorrow.” She opened the fridge and felt another wave of nausea crash through her. “I really don’t want that woman to stay here all night.”
Helena wouldn’t listen to reason. She didn’t know what was best for her.
All night, Bethany walked up and down the hallway, receiving patients and glancing back to see that Helena was still in the waiting room. She was mostly asleep, her head at a strange angle. Bethany’s heart went out to her. Eventually, when she was sure the woman wouldn’t notice, she brought out a big bottle of water and a Tupperware of fresh fruit and set them on the chair beside Helena. When she walked past again at around five fifteen in the morning, she saw that some of the strawberries had been eaten. But Bethany felt a pang of dread. The woman needed calories. She needed nutrients. Strawberries weren’t enough.
Bethany was meant to leave work at six thirty. She’d planned a day of sleep and complete, total relaxation for herself. Phoebe had theater camp all day. Maddie and Tommy were busy at the pool, and Rod had to work. But when six thirty came, Bethany paused in her office, wondering if she could leave without learning what was going on with Helena. She couldn’t get her out of her head.
It was then, miraculously, that one of the nurses came in to tell Bethany that Matteo had woken up. “He’s groggy but okay,” the nurse said before speeding off to take care of something else.
Before leaving, Bethany decided to go in and say hello to Matteo. She liked to be the one to tell her patient what she’d done to them, specifically, so that they understood what was happening to and in their bodies. She didn’t want to leave anyone in the dark.
Matteo was propped up in bed, watching television and drinking a glass of water. He was even more handsome now that he was alert. His bandage was still clean, a good sign, and his color was returning. He hadn’t needed any additional blood.
“Morning!” Matteo said. “Are you the doctor who saved my life?”
Bethany smiled. “I wouldn’t have had the chance if you didn’t have a guardian angel watching over you.”
Matteo cocked his head. And then, his jaw dropped, as though Helena had just occurred to him. Flustered, he said, “There was a storm! I remember just barely making it to shore. I ran up to that little house. It has to be the smallest house on Nantucket. Jeez, there are big houses around here. And there was a woman? A woman in the window?” He blinked and blinked, as though bringing the memory to his mind’s eye.
“She’s still here,” Bethany said finally. “I tried to get her to leave, but she refused. She wanted to make sure you were all right.”
Matteo’s eyes widened. “How long have I been here? Just one night, I hope?”
“Just one night,” Bethany confirmed.
Matteo thought for a long time, his dark eyes shining in the morning light. Bethany stifled a yawn. She needed sleep more than anything. But she couldn’t pull herself away just yet.
“Can I see her?” Matteo asked.
Bethany smiled. “In a bit. Let me walk you through your procedure first.”
“First, health,” Matteo said, although he seemed distracted. His eyes traced a line to the door, as though he hoped the strange woman from the window would return.
10
It had been an awful night. Groggy, her mouth tasting vaguely of strawberries and bad coffee, Helena felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking her very, very gently awake. When she opened her eyes, she found the doctor from last night before her. Bethany Sutton. The one who’d wanted to take her back into the belly of the hospital and stick her with IVs and tell her more bad news and take all her money.
It wasn’t that Bethany was necessarily the enemy, Helena knew. Bethany was part of a larger, sinister system. Just now, Bethany looked bad, maybe even worse than Helena. But doctors had to stay up all night, sometimes. They had to be human lighthouses, guiding the lost through the darkness.
“The patient is awake,” Bethany said. “He’s asking to see you. Are you ready for that?”
Helena got to her feet as quickly as she could, careful not to move too fast and crash to the ground again. She touched her lips, hoping it wasn’t stained with strawberries. She could do nothing but nod. Bethany led her down a white hallway, then another.
“I guess you still can’t tell me how he is?” Helena asked when she found her voice again.
“He can,” Bethany said simply. “I’m sorry. I wish I could be of more help.” Bethany gave Helena a knowing look, as though she wanted to apologize for everything—for all the things she couldn’t offer Helena. Did she know that Helena was dying? Was that something Bethany could see clear as day?
When they reached the stranger’s room, Helena stopped short in the doorway. The man she’d seen on that sailboat, that little blip on the horizon, now sat up in bed, waiting for her. Apparently, he’d asked to see her when he’d learned that she was still here. That, above everything, boggled her mind.
