Love On Call

No matter what she was doing, she ended up thinking about Glenn. And that almost always led to thoughts of sex. How was she to have imagined something so natural, and so easy, could cause just about every cell in her body to ignite and her brain to malfunction? She understood the biology, even the psychology, of desire, but nothing she’d ever learned came close to the reality. And the worst part was, as amazing as those few hours had been and as exciting the aftermath, she didn’t have a clue what she was going to do about it. She knew what she should do, and apparently Glenn agreed. Glenn hadn’t given any sign she wanted to repeat their encounter, just as Mari had stipulated. Yep. She had what she’d asked for, and she wasn’t the least bit happy about it.

“Got the X-rays back,” Antonelli said. “Nasty spiral fracture of the femur—midshaft.”

Grateful for the interruption, Mari jumped up and followed him out into the hall. She didn’t see Glenn with a quick look around. “Put them up on the board, let’s take a look.”

The fracture was simple enough to diagnose—the thigh bone in the mid portion was splintered with a long crack running diagonally and the two opposing, spear-shaped fragments overriding each other. The surrounding soft tissues were misshapen and swollen with blood just as she’d expected from the exam, along with the noticeable shortening of the upper leg. “What does that look like to you?”

“Looks like a trip to the OR to me.” Antonelli spoke with his usual confidence but after a quick glance at Mari’s expressionless face, hastily added, “Spiral fractures tend to be unstable, and in a weight-bearing bone, the potential for limb shortening and gait problems is significant. Open reduction is indicated.”

Mari smiled to herself. He was learning to make the transition from battlefield snap decisions to the kind of assessment appropriate in civilian care. She nodded. “Timing?”

“Considering it’s almost seven on a Friday night, if we don’t get it done now, chances are the ortho boys will want to wait until Monday or Tuesday, when the swelling is down and they can get it on the schedule electively.”

“Pros and cons to that?”

Antonelli frowned. He might be shifting his evaluations to the demands of community medicine, but he was probably always going to be a battlefield medic at the core. And he’d learned at the front that the more rapid and aggressive the treatment, the greater the number of soldiers they saved, with the smallest number of complications. Battlefield statistics supported that approach. He would never recommend postponing care. All the same, Mari wanted a medically sound reason for early intervention under the present circumstances.

“Right now, the soft tissue swelling is minimal. The longer they wait to operate, the more swelling there will be and the more difficult the dissection down to the bone. Plus, the patient’s going to be damn uncomfortable if she has to wait for four days until surgery. She’s an otherwise healthy, active fifty-year-old and she’s gonna want to get on the road to rehab as quickly as possible. If they operate tonight, she’ll be in PT by Monday morning. If it was my wife or sister, I’d want surgery tonight. So I say we call and push them to come in and rod it.”

Mari nodded. “I agree.”

From behind them, Glenn said quietly, “So do I.” When Mari swung around with a questioning look, Glenn shrugged. “I happened to notice the films down in X-ray when they were shooting them. Nice work-up, Antonelli.”

“Uh, thanks.” Antonelli shot Mari a look, as if asking if he really deserved all the credit.

Smiling, Mari shook her head, pleased by Glenn’s assessment. Glenn had praised Antonelli, and rightly so, but Glenn knew what Mari’d been trying to teach him, just like Glenn always seemed to know what she was thinking and feeling. Glenn’s professional opinion of her was nearly as important as her personal feelings, but those she could read far less easily. Did Glenn think about their intimate time together as often as she did? Did she lie awake, restless at night, her body humming with the memory of desire? Was she finding it as difficult as Mari to pretend she didn’t want it again?

Mari wished she knew how to ask, or that Glenn really could read her mind.

Antonelli spoke into the silence. “Zapata is on call. I’ll give him a ring. He’s a pretty decent guy and will probably come in with a little prodding.”

“Tell him you’ve already called the OR, per me,” Glenn said, “and that if he’s not available, we’ll get Flann Rivers to do it. That will light a fire under his butt.”

Antonelli chuckled and strode away.

“I thought Flann was off tonight,” Mari said.

“She is. Harper too. A few of us—OR crew mostly—are taking Harper out for a little prenuptial celebration.”

Mari laughed. “You’re kidding. Like a bachelor party?”

“Well, sort of.” Glenn looked sheepish, highly unlike her. “Just tradition, you know.”