Chapter 39

July 3, 1987- Friday

Friday Morning, Julie hesitated before the familiar, but daunting sight of the staircase leading to her apartment. Donovan stood behind her, waiting for her to make up her mind as she held onto the railing.

"I can help you up there," he stated.

"I need to stop depending on you." She placed her foot on the first step and then took another.

Donovan stayed so close behind her that she could feel the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck. He wouldn't let her fall.

She turned around and cupped his chin with her hand, feeling the smoothness of freshly shaven skin.

Smiling, she said, "Maybe you should back off a little. I'm okay."

"Told ya, I don't wanna be held responsible for your demise."

As she continued to walk, Donovan was two steps behind her. "Mike, I was wondering, had I died, how would you have eulogized me? What would you have said?"

"Maitland and your mother wouldn't have allowed it."

It pained her to admit that was true. She considered Maggie's revelation about Donovan's meltdown during his interview. "Funny you never gave me the tape of your interview. You're not going to miss me when this is all over with, are you?"

"Now who has an ego?" He chuckled, marched up a few steps and slipped past her.

Julie giggled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You used to tell me how arrogant I was."

"That was five years ago." She looked at him incredulously. "I would have to say, you've come outside of yourself and learned to care about others very nicely, Mr. Donovan."

"Well, Dr. Parrish, if that's a compliment, I accept."

Julie let them into her apartment. The air inside was stuffy. Julie instructed Donovan to open windows.

Outside temperatures reached ninety degrees and inside the apartment, Julie's plants were wilting. She placed a finger inside the dry potting soil of her English Ivy. Frowning, she doubted they would survive her absence.

"I'll get the mail. You water the plants," Donovan said.

Julie surrendered her keys. In her kitchen, she located a plastic pitcher then filled it with water. She went around to each plant in the living room, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom and balcony. Before her accident, she'd managed to collect about thirty specimens, fascinated by the different growth patterns of each. Maggie had frequently teased her that her apartment resembled a small jungle, the only thing missing were the animals to which Julie had replied, "Why do I need animals when CJ visits so often?"

As Julie watered the large ficus tree in the corner of her bedroom, Donovan approached her with an armful of envelopes. He presented at least twice the amount of bills as he had during last week's visit, his expression grim.

He plucked a few envelopes from the top of the mass, holding them out to her. Julie made an annoyed face.

The return address on each bill was to a medical facility involved in Julie's care. Until now, she'd avoided worrying about her mounting debts. She placed the pitcher on the floor, then sat on the edge of her bed, and thumbed open a bill from the Thoracic Surgeon.

"I'll get the computer," Donovan said.

Julie nodded, unfolding the papers. The surgeon charged close to twelve thousand dollars. Her insurance negotiated the fees down to nine thousand, and left Julie responsible for four and a half thousand.

She opened a Med Center bill that encompassed the entire duration of her week and two-day stay. Ten pages detailed overpriced fees of the room itself, medications, meals, and surgical packs. The insurance company negotiated the cost of each, as with the surgeon fees. Julie's portion of this bill totaled $24,549.52.

I can't pay it if I can't finish the project, she thought. She knew she would have to return to work in a couple weeks, in spite of what her doctors recommended. If her lungs were still sensitive, she'd simply wear a surgical mask.

She picked up the remaining envelopes and fliers, which Donovan left beside her on the bed, then joined him in the living room where he dismantled her Macintosh Computer.

#

Frowning at the latest test results for the second Miller twin, Steve felt nauseated. Why was Alexander suffering from the same respiratory infection as his brother? While Steve suspected it had something to do with the twins' almost identical chemistry, he knew DNA research hadn't advanced far enough to pinpoint exactly what those similarities were. He didn't want to tell Mrs. Miller that her only remaining son would likely suffer the same fate as his brother. During the week Steve had been in Seattle, none of his patients' health improved. A feeling of hopelessness settled in.

Ross phoned later that evening, and announced researchers at Metzger were experimenting with a cactus plant, known for its ability to destroy certain species of E. Coli. Ross needed Steve to fly back this Sunday to oversee the experiments. Steve felt glad to be going home.