Chapter 2 Lacemending



"Come on, come on," Donna Moss muttered, craning her neck to see what was causing the crowd in the jetway to stop. After an instant, which seemed like a year, she was making progress again.

"Donna!" she heard as she stepped into the waiting area. "Donna Moss!"

She followed the voice to its owner. "Mr. Taylor," she shook his hand then followed him down the concourse. "Thank you so much for . . ."

"I'm just sorry it's under these circumstances, Miss Moss," his face was burnished mahogany, eyes a soft brown. It was amazing that such a gentle voice could emanate from this towering man. "What's the last you've heard?" he asked as he slid behind the wheel of his SUV and the engine roared to life.

Donna swallowed. Hard. "He was still in surgery." A tear slid down her face. "But that was," she looked at her watch, "thirty minutes ago."

Taylor held out a tissue and she dabbed away the wetness on her face. "No news is usually good news in these situations, Miss Moss."

Donna smiled wanly and turned her face to the window, not really seeing the scenery flash by, startled when they came to a halt in the circle drive of an office building. She stepped onto the pavement, head tilting to read the sign above the door. "Baptist Heart Institute," she said heavily. "Are they good?"

"Yes," he nodded, then held the door before following her inside. "Very, very good."

She nodded, following her guide to a private waiting room. "Leo?" she choked before he pulled her into an embrace.

"They're taking him off bypass now," he patted her arm then pulled her into the chair next to his while Taylor nodded a farewell to Leo. "Shouldn't be long."

The minute hand on the clock crawled another 450 degrees before a scrub-clad figure appeared in the doorway. "How is he?" Leo jumped to his feet but the doctor waved him back to his seat before perching on the littered magazine table after making introductions.

She propped her elbows on her knees. "Mr. Lyman is in Recovery. We'll send him on to the ICU after he wakes up."

"When can I see him?" Donna's eyes were round and fearful.

"You're Donna Moss?" To Donna's nod she continued, "I'll take you back when we're through here."

"What happened?" Donna looked from the doctor to Leo then back to the doctor, who proceeded upon Leo's nod.

"Mr. Lyman presented with shortness of breath and chest discomfort. From his file that Dr. Bartlett sent me, heart attack was not a likely cause. During the diagnostic phase we found a large sacculated aneurysm on the pulmonary artery-the same area that was damaged at Rosslyn. During the surgery I repaired the aneurysm we visualized during the diagnostics as well as two more that would soon be causing a problem."

"And?" Leo prompted.

"There's something else you should know," the doctor continued. "Our plan was to put him on bypass then repair the aneurysms surgically." The doctor studied her hands a moment. "While we were prepping him in the OR, the wall of the aneurysm dissected-it burst. It was five minutes before we were able to start the cardio-pulmonary bypass."

Donna's hand flew to her face, her hand hiding her mouth.

"What about brain damage?" Leo asked quietly, gathering Donna's other hand in his.

"Probably not; but you should be prepared for the possibility."

"Is there anything else?"

"Let me say that whoever patched him up the first time did a great job. The amount of damage to the pulmonary artery was extensive and severe. Sewing it back together must have been a lot like lacemending."

"So, this won't be the last time," Donna whispered.

"No."

"When?" Leo asked.

The doctor shook her head. "It's hard to say. His best bet is to take care of himself."

Donna chuffed and cut her eyes to Leo, who smiled ruefully.

A chart appeared in the doctor's hand, courtesy of the scrub-clad nurse now exiting the waiting room. The notebook occupied the doctor's attention for at least a minute.

"What now?" Donna whispered.

"Would you like to see him?" A small smile returned to the doctor's face.

Donna returned the smile and nodded.

The doctor led them down the hall, past the "Recovery Room" sign. Josh lay in the center bed of three, pallor accentuated by the bright fluorescent lights. The surgical gown had been pulled up onto his shoulders, but the monitor leads pulled it down enough in the front so that the first suture staple gleamed. Bile rose in Donna's throat, and she swallowed back the foul taste and the memories prompted by the sickeningly familiar sights, sounds, and smells.

"You okay?" Leo tugged on her arm. "You look a little off."

"I'm fine," she swallowed, following the doctor to Josh's bedside while Leo flanked them. She slid her hand atop his and the heart monitor quickened. "Josh," she called gently.

The patient hummed and his eyes worked beneath closed lids.

Donna leaned closer. "Josh, wake up."

His head lolled to the side and he grimaced, moaning softly as his eyes blinked open.

"Hey," she smiled, face just inches from his.

He smiled in return, whispering only her name before his voice played out.

"Don't try to talk," she comforted, but he frowned and she lowered her ear to his lips.

"Donna," he took several rapid breaths, nuzzled his cheek against hers, rasping breathlessly, "Marry me."