Alright, y'all. I'm bringing this story back from the dead, because it's been a long ass time and I miss Private Practice. Thank you all in advance for sticking with me! I hope you like!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Chapter 8
February, 2012
New York City, New York
I was thinking how I keep waiting for life to get easier. You know, lower stakes, less risk, more reward – easier. And I was thinking that maybe…it doesn't.
I was thinking that maybe the struggle, the climb, the one obstacle after another, maybe…that's just life.
Addison felt hear breath catch in her throat. "What information?" she asked hoarsely.
Sister Annabelle sighed over the phone. "I really shouldn't be saying anything…"
"Please," Addison begged before she could even stop herself. "I don't want to hurt her…I just want to know that she's okay. That somebody adopted her and…and loves her."
Given everything both Alina and Sister Eleanor had told her about the orphanage's privacy rules, and everything she as a doctor knew about confidentiality laws, Addison knew the nun was going out on a huge limb for her. A part of her wanted to feel bad, and normally she'd cave into that feeling, but now, despite potentially breaking the law, she let her emotions take over.
"Meet me outside the church at 90th and Madison in 15 minutes," Sister Annabelle said.
Addison's heart pounded in her chest. It was possible that in less than an hour's time she could know what happened to her daughter.
She thought about hailing another cab—since she seemed to be having luck in that department this trip—but instead she stood up, secured her bag on her shoulder, and began to run as fast as her feet could take her.
"So she's not even...in the country anymore?" Addison confirmed, defeat in her voice.
"Not necessarily," Sister Annabelle countered. "All I know is that the couple who adopted her were doctors, or teachers, or maybe both. They had just moved here. They weren't American."
"Do you remember where they came from?" Addison pressed. "I'm sorry to sound so…" she sighed. "I just...please it would mean a great deal to me if you remembered."
The chilly winter breeze picked up and she shivered, crossing her arms over her chest.
Sister Annabelle gave her a pitying glance.
"I'm sorry," she said. "If I knew any more I would tell you."
Addison swallowed the lump in her throat, grateful for the information yet feeling just as helpless as before.
"Did they at least seem like...good people to you? Like they'd give her a good life?"
"Well, I can't say I met them personally, but," the nun paused. "We don't adopt our kids out to just anyone. We're very thorough, and not just legally speaking. We make sure that parents who come into the home are just as emotionally ready to love a child as they are financially. What I mean to say, Dr. Montgomery, is...whoever adopted Alina clearly showed us how much they love her."
Addison nodded, eyes clouding over with tears once again.
"Thank you," she managed. "That makes me...I'm really glad to hear that."
Sister Annabelle placed a hand on her arm.
"Take care, Dr. Montgomery," she said.
Addison just nodded again, and with an unspoken goodbye, the two parted. She wished this conversation could have given her the closure she needed and yet, she still felt antsy and desperate for more details. It was as if she wouldn't be able to rest until she looked her little girl in the face. Her little girl who was now a grown woman.
She knew eventually she'd have to get back to LA, to her patients and some semblance of a life.
And Jake.
But she didn't let herself think such things just yet. She couldn't. Not when the last time she had spent a significant amount of time with the man she had gotten drunk and spilled too many secrets and completely humiliated herself.
She still needed closure from this trip, and while she may not have been able to get it from the nuns, Addison thought of one more stop to make before returning to the west coast. A place she hadn't visited in almost ten years.
Connecticut.
February, 2012
Hartford, Connecticut
"Can I help you?" a pale, blonde, thickly-accented housekeeper answered the door. Addison didn't recognize her, but that was no surprise. When she was alive, Bizzy was notorious for never being able to keep a maid for longer than six months; it would be no surprise to Addison if after her mother's death this house just become a curse to all waitstaff.
It amazed her how easily this place could still make her feel small, even after years away and an incredibly successful career as a doctor. Addison had nothing to be ashamed of, and yet, standing at the doorway of her childhood home, she felt every bad memory of her past threaten to swallow her whole.
"Is um," she cleared her throat. "Is Captain Montgomery available?"
"I'm afraid he's on holiday in Spain until next week," the housekeeper replied.
Leave it to her father to jet off some place exotic with no notice. Probably for a bi-continental booty call, Addison scoffed to herself.
"Is there something I can help you with…?"
"Addison," she finished. "Addison Montgomery. I'm the Captain's daughter."
"Ah yes!" came a knowing reply. "My name is Brigitte, I've been taking care of things for your father the last five months or so, and I've heard a lot about you. Come in, come in, let me take your coat."
"Thank you," Addison smiled politely, stepping into the massive marbled foyer and shrugging out of her peacoat. "And actually, it's good my father isn't home...I'm mainly just here to look for something, hopefully won't take me too long."
"Okay, well is there anything I can get you in the meantime?" Brigitte asked, hanging up Addison's jacket.
Addison paused for a moment, opening her mouth and then shutting it again before speaking.
"A scotch would be great," she admitted.
For what she was about to face, hard liquor was a must.
Once Brigitte fixed her her drink, Addison slowly made her way through the first floor, toward the back of the house. Her heels echoed on the marble tile, more loudly, it seemed, than ever before. As she looked around the sizeable living room with windows stretching nearly all the way to the ceiling, at all the furniture sitting perfectly in its place, the lonely untouched books alphabetized on their shelves, Addison couldn't imagine how she spent so many years of her life in a place like this. She certainly couldn't imagine raising a family here; so cold, so impersonal.
With each step it seemed like the burning sensation of the scotch in her throat increased threefold. She could see the door at the end of the hallway; the door to a room she hadn't seen the inside of in nearly 30 years.
Addison took a deep breath, and with a shaking hand reached forward to twist the doorknob.
The sight of the room hit her like the gust of wind from a Nor'easter.
The room where she had given birth to her daughter. The room where Alina's life had began, and Addison's life as she'd known it had ended.
Slowly she took a few steps forward, toward the bed. The room had been painted since, but otherwise everything remained exactly the same.
Addison remembered spending the entirety of her labor in this room, all 32 hours of it. Bizzy hadn't allowed her to leave for fear of someone showing up to the house and hearing her. She remembered looking out the window and watching the raindrops race down the glass; a storm that had lasted for days, matching her emotions perfectly.
And finally, she remembered lying down on the bed with her legs spread apart, writhing in pain, and bringing her daughter into the world. A daughter she was given just minutes with afterwards.
How desperately she had wanted that child.
Before she knew it, a couple tears had made their way down Addison's cheeks, which she wiped away quickly. Even with Bizzy dead and gone, the shame of crying in this house was still as if she were standing right behind her.
Tipping her head back, Addison finished her drink in a single swallow before turning on her heel and leaving the room, not looking back once. She had one more task at hand before getting back to LA.
Growing up, the Captain's office had been the only room in their house that had been off limits to the children. Well, so had his and Bizzy's bedroom, but that had been more of an unspoken rule. Though Addison remembered her father mentioning more than once, and very strictly, that the back room on the second floor was not to be entered.
Now, standing in front of yet another closed door, she felt rebellious. Addison had never been a rebellious person. She didn't even consider her getting pregnant at 16 to be rebellious, because it hadn't exactly been conventional, and although it had taken her years to realize, it hadn't been her fault.
Except now, she didn't care. Not one single part of her cared. The only thing she cared about was getting the information she knew would be buried deep in a filing cabinet.
Suddenly, as she reached her hand out toward the door, her phone rang, startling her. She exhaled, wanting to ignore the sound but at the same time feeling like if she didn't silence the ringing she would get caught.
She glanced into her bag; the name that showed up on the screen make her heart rate increase even more.
Jake.
What could he possibly want? Addison thought to herself. She had given notice at work, and it wasn't like the two of them were in a relationship.
She felt pulled to answer, to let his voice calm her nerves; instead, she swallowed the urge and, with shaky hand, gently pressed the 'ignore' button. This was something she had to do, no interruptions.
She knew, if there was any information about her medical history in this house, it would be hidden right here, in this room.
She pressed on.
Of course, the Captain's office was spotless; he'd never have it any other way. If she made a mess, he would notice.
Her eyes veered to the filing cabinets in the back left corner of the room; each five shelves high, Addison knew there must thousands of patient records in there. There was no way her baby wasn't one of them.
She also knew there was no way these cabinets would be unlocked.
"Keys, keys, keys…" she muttered to herself, tearing open desk drawers and ruffling through their contents.
Then it hit her: the desk drawers would be too simple. The Captain wouldn't just leave the contents of his entire patient history in an unlocked drawer in his desk. Addison eyed the bookshelves, looking for a safe. Her father never realized Addison had memorized his go-to lock combination years ago; her mother's birthday. As if that could make up for their years of infidelity to one another. As if this kept Bizzy close to him, somehow.
There it was, on the bottom shelf. Slowly, Addison began to twist the lock: 06-15-36.
June 15, 1936.
Bizzy would have turned 76 this year. She and Addison were almost exactly 30 years apart.
With a single click, the safe opened, and there they were, the keys to the file cabinets.
"This is too easy," Addison muttered to herself. There had to be a catch.
Still, the cabinets unlocked perfectly, and Addison was faced with more pre-HIPAA yellow manila folders than days in a year. Quickly, she began to finger through them. They were alphabetized by last name, but that would also be too easy, she thought. There was no way a folder by the name of 'Addison Montgomery' would just be sitting there.
Akerman, Allison.
Carter, Elizabeth.
Next shelf.
Fitzgerald, Michael.
Hunter, Maria.
Next shelf.
Her breath increased as she reached the 'M's.'
Matthews.
Miller.
Morrison.
There was no Montgomery.
Addison threw open the top shelf of the next cabinet. Still, nothing. She sat down, defeated, leaning back against her hands and feeling the lump return to her throat. She did not impulsively decide to ransack her father's office only to come out with nothing. Her family may have been cold and withholding, but she always knew her father loved her in his own way. No matter how much they fought, how many times she told him she didn't want him in her life, he loved her, and she loved him back. He would not let this happen to her and leave no evidence behind.
Once again, she began to cry. She ripped all of the 'M through P' folders out of their shelf and threw them across the room, no longer caring who heard her.
"Shit," she swore, immediately crawling over to the spilled contents. At this rate, it would take hours to undo the mess.
She began carefully looking through papers, matching names to folders, breathing heavily as she gave her tears permission to fall. Sitting here like this was almost like a kick in the teeth; she was infertile, and her only daughter was lost to her forever.
But, as devastated as she felt, she had to believe that that baby Alina was somewhere alive and happy, adopted by a loving family.
About 15 minutes later and Addison was nearly finished organizing the files back into the cabinet, when a name she had so desperately been searching for appeared in the corner of her eye, and it had been written in pen, not typed.
Montgomery.
It hadn't matched the name on the folder. Her father had hidden it under a false identity. Addison snatched the sheet of paper. Sure enough, it was her.
Montgomery, Addison Adrienne Forbes. Age: 16. Date: February 4, 1983.
Underneath it was information about a baby, and written with the same pen was the name Alina.
Sex: Female. DOB: February 4, 1983. Length: 19 inches. Weight: 7lbs 2oz.
This was a copy of her daughter's birth certificate. Another tear fell down Addison's cheek, but for an entirely different reason this time. She flipped the page over, and all of the sudden it was as if this was the moment the universe had been leading her to throughout her entire life.
Every heartbreak, every stroke of bad luck, every feeling of loneliness.
On the second page of the document were the names of her baby's adoptive parents, and Addison knew exactly who they were.
March 2012
Los Angeles, California
For the next few weeks Addison kept to herself, feeling almost as if she were in a fog. So many things had grown to be so complicated, and so fast.
Sam and his sister, Jake and his feelings for Addison, Addison and her lost daughter, who was no longer so lost.
Normally when she became overwhelmed like this she would bury herself in her work for days and weeks at a time, barely coming up for air. That had been what she did immediately after losing Alina; from that moment on she had known she wanted to be a doctor and take care of mothers and their babies, the way she hadn't been taken care of when she was 16. Aside from meeting Derek and falling in love just enough to get married, she never lost focus from that goal.
This time, she worked odd hours in the office and avoided the hospital at all costs, partially because of Jake, and partially because of Sam; mainly for other reasons. Today had been the first day in weeks that she made her way into the kitchen at Seaside Wellness at 2:00pm, in search of a yogurt. But of course, today was also the day she would walk in on two of the people she had been doing her best to avoid: Jake and Sam.
"Addison, weigh in here," Sam said forcefully as soon as she opened the door.
Addison stood there frozen, like a deer in the headlights.
"I...was just coming to get a yogurt," she managed, already feeling her heart beginning to race, as if their presence sucked all the oxygen from the room.
"Seriously," Jake said, clearly unable to read her body language. "Tell us what you think. A patient of mine comes into the ER with congestive heart failure, 30 weeks pregnant-"
"Which she was not supposed to be," Sam interjected.
"Meanwhile she gave no indication when she came to me for fertility treatment that she had ever had a heart transplant, all the tests came back negative…"
"You should have checked!" Sam challenged.
"I don't require my patients to disrobe entirely for a gynecological exam!" Jake replied. "Do you?" He looked Addison square in the eye and she inhaled sharply.
"Not typically, no," she blurted. "But…"
"But he should have checked," Sam repeated. "This woman is barely a year past her heart transplant and now thanks to Dr. Reilly is in the midst of heart failure, again."
"Look," Addison said. "The two of you just need to-"
"What do you think?" Sam interrupted. "Who's right here, Addison?"
She blinked, giving him an incredulous look, as if she could choose which doctor in this scenario was 'right' without even examining the patient at hand. Where were they, in middle school?
"Neither of you," she concluded. "Look if you need me to go and examine this patient, fine, but in the meantime you two need to work with what you have. No one is 'right,' no one is at fault, just work it out. Problem solve. You're adults. Act like it."
Hastily she grabbed her yogurt from the refrigerator and left the room in a huff, knowing in her gut she would receive a page from the hospital at some point today.
The page had, surprisingly, not come from Jake or Sam but from a nurse practitioner on the cardiothoracic floor. Addison had just finished up with her last appointment of the afternoon; an 18 year old girl in for her first annual exam.
Strangely enough, Addison loved those appointments; albeit routine, she loved getting to know girls new to adulthood, calming their nerves, gaining their trust. In some small way, being a mentor to someone.
The page hadn't been 911; she was being asked for a second opinion, just as she had assumed.
Addison made her way down the hospital hallway, adjusting her stethoscope around her neck, but stopped in her tracks as soon as she reached the doorway to the patient—Gloria's—room.
Alina was there, dressed in navy blue scrubs and hair tied back in a loose bun, in the middle of an ultrasound exam on Gloria's baby.
Addison stepped back silently, unnoticed by all in the room.
With the buzz of the nurses' station nearby, Addison couldn't hear everything that was going on between Gloria and Alina; Gloria looked nervous, and Alina looked reassuring, smiling kindly down at her patient before pointing up at the ultrasound screen.
The three of them laughed softly as Alina continued to point at the screen, making a circular motion with her index finger. Near as Addison could tell, the baby had its thumb in its mouth. As she continued to watch them, it became clearer and clearer that Alina was doing her best to reassure the family that their baby was healthy; Addison would have done no different.
Memory of a conversation came crashing into her: one where Alina's mother had come to her house, telling Addison how unstable her daughter was, and how Addison was supposed to help her make sure she "looked no further" for her biological parents.
"Alexandra, your daughter is a grown woman and given what you've told me she seems like she's gonna do what she wants no matter what anyone says to her. I'm sorry, but I don't see how I can be of any use to you here."
"Oh I think you do, Dr. Montgomery."
Yes, Addison did. Alina's adoptive mother didn't want her to find her.
"Addison." Jake's voice came up behind her, startling her and catching the attention of everyone in the room. He had been on his way to see Gloria. "Good, you got my page."
Your nurse's page, Addison thought to herself.
"Yes, I did," she replied as lightheartedly as possible, as he placed a hand on her back, leading her into the room. A shiver immediately went down her spine at his touch.
"Oh, hello," Alina greeted her brightly. "I take it Dr. Reilly asked you here for a second opinion?"
Addison opened her mouth to speak, but Jake beat her to it.
"That I did," he said. "Gloria, this is Dr. Addison Montgomery, and she's gonna take another look at your baby."
"Everything's okay though, right?" Gloria breathed, clearly struggling for air. "Because she's too little, she's not ready…"
"Gloria," Alina said gently. "There's nothing that indicates your baby is in distress yet, we just want to explore all our options so we can do what's best for you and your daughter. And Dr. Montgomery is the best." She looked up at Addison, and Addison felt her heart skip a beat again. "No offense, Dr. Reilly," Alina added.
"None taken," Jake smiled, holding his hands up in defeat. "Can't fight the truth."
Addison smiled awkwardly, trying to act as normal as possible and feeling like she was failing miserably. Thankfully, Alina seemed to buy it.
"I was just giving Gloria a look at her daughter's heart, before her little thumb got in the way," she explained, as Addison moved closer to look at the monitor.
"Did you get called up from the ER?" Addison managed, her voice hoarse.
"I was on Dr. Bennett's service when Gloria came in this morning," Alina replied, grabbing hold of the woman's hand. "Thought I'd see her and her daughter through."
"I demanded it," Gloria joked, still weak.
"Well okay then," Addison smiled, carefully taking the wand from Alina. For a split second their hands touched, and Addison jumped, as if a shock had gone through her body.
"You alright, Dr. Montgomery?" Alina chuckled uncertainly.
"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Addison responded quickly, clearing her throat. "Static electricity."
Static electricity?! she thought, scolding herself for sounding like such an idiot, and in front of a patient for that matter.
She took a deep breath, willing herself back into the Doctor Mode she'd spent her entire professional life perfecting. She looked over the ultrasound screen; both Alina and Jake had been right in the sense that this baby was healthy, and before Gloria's heart began to fail there would have been no indication she couldn't produce a healthy child. Delivering at 30 weeks would be risky, but with the proper intensive care there was no reason for Addison to believe she wouldn't make a full recovery.
Jake had stood across from her, on the other side of Gloria's bed, and Alina beside her the entire time, overwhelming her with nervousness but also comfort at the same time, if that was even possible. Just the thought of what if the family she had always dreamed of was standing all around her, almost made her stop right there and slap herself across the face.
That would be crazy.
But then Jake smiled, and a genuine warm feeling flowed through her. Alina reached her arm back and adjusted her hair, giving Addison a whiff of her floral perfume, and that warm feeling increased tenfold. She smelled like lilies.
A knock came at the door from whom Addison assumed had been the cardiac nurse who paged her.
"Dr. Levin?" the nurse addressed Alina. "I have the results from that chest x-ray you ordered."
"Oh, thank you," Alina replied, brushing past Addison again. She held up the scan toward the light, standing alongside Jake.
"How bad is it?" Gloria asked.
Alina and Jake both gave the woman another empathetic glance, and Alina placed a hand on her shoulder.
"You see that portion of your heart right there?" she pointed out, showing Gloria the scan. "It's enlarged, and that's the part that's not pumping enough blood to your body and making you short of breath."
"We think, at this point, it would be best for you and the baby to do an emergency c-section."
"What?" Gloria replied, a scared look coming over her. "No, she's only 30 weeks, she's not-"
"Gloria," Addison stopped her. "I know this sounds scary, but I've delivered a lot of babies at 30 weeks before, some even younger. It is early, but doable, and looking at your ultrasound I see no reason to believe that with the proper care, she wouldn't make a full recovery and grow into a healthy little girl."
"All we're asking is for you to give yourself that same chance," Jake said.
A single tear fell down Gloria's cheek.
"Um," she said shakily. "My husband had to run home to check on our 4 year old son, and I...I can't make this decision without him. How long can we wait?"
Alina began to respond, and Addison watched her explain Sam's recommendations and how they would be in the OR with her every step of the way.
Eventually Jake took over and Alina's pager went off, snapping Addison out of her trance.
The young doctor glanced down at her pager and then sighed, looking back up at Gloria.
"Gloria I'm sorry but it's the ER, I have to take this," she apologized. "But I'll be back as soon as they take you to surgery. Dr. Montgomery thank you again for the consult." She looked at Addison.
"Oh you're, you're welcome," Addison replied, standing up a little straighter.
Addison watched Alina leave the room at a quick pace, but what made her narrow her eyes was what the young doctor did immediately after entering the hallway. She paused in front of a closed door, staring at her reflection in the window with closed blinds on the inside. Her shoulders moved upwards as she took a deep breath, blinking a few times before pulling her wavy auburn hair out of the bun. It was almost as if she were giving herself a silent pep talk.
What Addison wondered was why.
Later that evening, Addison was just about to close out of her desktop and head home for the day when a knock came from her door. Before looking over, she wondered who it could be; it was already way past dark and she was tired, looking forward to unwinding after this afternoon's painful surgery.
She and Sam had performed Gloria's c-section, with both Jake and Alina in the room, and despite their best efforts, Gloria had died. Her heart had gone into VFib and given out.
At first, Addison had wanted to blame herself. After all, she had been mildly distracted during the consult, and then there was the fact that she thought her heart would physically break at the sight of Alina leaving the OR near tears after the operation, having grown arguably too close to the patient. Just as Addison would have done.
But eventually she was able to shove all of that aside. She had done hundreds of high-risk c-sections throughout her career. This had just been one of those things.
Didn't mean it sucked any less.
Didn't mean she was feeling more and more desperate to tell Alina the truth as time went on, and today only made that harder. She felt desperate to comfort her after Gloria's death, but how could she do that without revealing who she really was? And how would Alina react if she found out? She did imply she wanted to know who her birth parents were, but did she really? Addison wasn't sure she could handle the rejection.
"I'm surprised you're still here," Jake announced, walking slowly into her office. The hallway was quiet; it was obvious they were the only two left at the practice for the day.
Addison met his gaze.
"Oh, yeah, well I was just...getting things organized, I guess."
Jake smiled slightly, letting out a slight laugh before looking down toward the ground.
"Tell me something," he said. "Am I reading too much into...all of this?"
Addison raised an eyebrow. "Into…?"
Jake looked her in the eye again. "You and me. The grocery store, Fiji, Palm Springs. Am I reading too much into that? Was it purely physical, or is it...is there something emotional here?"
"For me?"
"Yeah," Jake said. "For you."
Addison swallowed, standing up behind her desk, thankful he couldn't see her knees wobble slightly. She thought about how much she thought she loved Sam, but then again about how he treated her at the end of their relationship, how he simply brushed off her devastation at not being able to get pregnant, or losing out on an adoption. It had been as if he couldn't care less.
Sam was supposed to be the great love of her life, but he wasn't. And now here was Jake, basically offering himself to her. What did she want?
"It's...not just physical," she admitted.
This time it was Jake's turn to raise an eyebrow. "You're sure?"
She knew he had a point. Palm Springs had been all about her getting wasted and literally offering herself to him, but not totally meaning it. But still not completely over Sam. She knew Jake well enough to know he would never intentionally invest himself in a woman who didn't invest in him back, who wasn't 100 percent committed.
Yet now, looking into his eyes, his kind, loving eyes, she knew he would never hurt her. He would help her pursue her dream—any dream—but especially having a baby. She told him about how she had had a child at 16 and he never judged her, and she knew if she told him about Alina he'd never judge her for that either. He would be right there beside her, every step of the way.
Addison stepped out from behind her desk, clasping her hands together.
"I am," she concluded.
"You are," he repeated, more of a statement than a question.
She noticed his hand twitch as the two of them got closer to one another, like he wanted to reach out and grab hers. She did it for him.
"I am."
Jake ran his thumb over the top of her hand, his skin soft yet tough, his grip light yet firm. She looked up at him.
"Listen, Jake…I'm sorry, about everything. About Palm Springs, about Sam…"
He opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him.
"You are," she continued. "An incredibly decent man, and I just...I've been in a lot of bad relationships, or I guess relationships that have ended badly. I didn't want the same to happen with us."
Jake placed the palm of his hand on her cheek, and she leaned into him.
"And you are one of the most amazing women I've ever met," he told her honestly. "Since the day we met in the grocery store I knew you were the one for me. You just...weren't ready to hear it yet, and the last thing I wanted to do was scare you off."
Addison smiled in relief, and Jake moved his other hand so he held her face completely.
"I will never hurt you, Addison. I would have a baby with you, in a test tube or...however."
Addison chuckled softly.
"I'll be here for you, for whatever you need," he finished.
Damn that man talked good.
Addison nodded. "Okay," she whispered, and for the first time in months, their lips connected.
She ran her hands through his short hair as his tongue begged for entrance into her mouth. Their bodies were were pressed together, and yet neither one of them felt rushed. Instead, she let him kiss her long and good, and she felt her mind begin to fog, until it hit her: the one thing she had to do before she could fully invest in this relationship.
She pulled back suddenly, and he gave her a questioning glance.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "It's not you, there's just...something I have to do first."
"Is it…?" he started.
"No, it's not Sam," she reassured him. "It's something else." She turned toward her desk to grab her purse before touching his cheek. "I'll call you later tonight. I promise."
And she meant it.
Addison knew this was risky, standing in front of Alina's house. It was nearing 8:00pm on a weeknight, well past the hour for social visits, let alone the kind of visit Addison was hoping to have.
A small bungalow in Santa Monica, Addison's first thought as she parked along the street was that the girl had good taste. Only a couple blocks from the beach, it was the perfect place for a young single woman just getting her bearings in a new city.
It wasn't until Addison reached the top step of the porch that she realized that not only was the porch light off, there were none on inside the house either, at least not that she could tell through the closed curtains. It may be late for social visits, but certainly too early for bedtime?
Maybe she had an early call time tomorrow and just decided to sleep at the hospital, Addison thought. She certainly did that enough times throughout her residency and fellowship years.
But that thought left her mind as soon as she reached up to knock on the door, only to discover that it was already ajar. That set off a worried feeling deep within her.
"Hello?" she called into the house, carefully pushing the door open further.
No answer.
"Alina? It's Doc- it's Addison," she corrected herself.
Still, nothing. She stepped inside. The house, too, smelled of lilies and lavender. The furniture looked soft and cozy, as if Alina had tried to make this place into as much of a home as possible. Addison respected that.
"Is anyone home?"
She wandered back toward the kitchen, where she could tell from behind the wall there was a nightlight.
"Alina? Is-"
Then she saw it, a pair of legs sticking out from behind the island. Addison rushed over.
There, lying unconscious on the floor was Alina.
Her daughter.
Her grown up daughter.
She gasped, immediately kneeling over her to check for a pulse; it was there, but weak.
"Oh my...okay, okay. It's okay, you're gonna be okay," she stammered, feeling a lump form in her throat as she noticed significant bruising on her face and neck. She pulled out her phone to make the call to 911.
As gently as possible she pulled Alina's head into her lap, turning her onto her side. The ambulance would be there in two minutes. She felt Alina's slow breaths against her hand. She could still breathe on her own. That was good.
Addison felt the hot tears begin to spill down her cheeks as she cradled this grown woman in her arms, something she hadn't done in over 29 years. She noticed Alina's blouse had ripped, and there was further bruising along her abdomen, along with an open cut. She reached up for the first thing she could find on the island, a handful of paper towels.
"Oh sweetheart," she whispered, applying pressure to the wound.
"I've got you."
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