RED SOX: Believe.
PATRIOTS: Cassell seems to be getting the hang of the job.
FEEDBACK: Love it? Hate it? Want the t-shirt? Let me know what you think p.phair@comcast.net
"Tristan remained stock still for what seemed like hours in the chair Gareth directed her to upon their arrival in the Private Conference Room. The dark paneled room was silent in spite of the three souls gathered there. Each kept their pain bottled up behind chalk white faces and bloodlessly thin lips. At times, it seemed like none of them even bothered to breathe.
Occasionally, Tristan would let her eyes travel from their deliberate focus on the ornate rug beneath her feet to the emotionless face of Simone Sydney-Sebastian. The older woman spared Tristan just a glance when she and Gareth entered. The reporter in her swore she saw hatred flash to life in Simone's eyes but the spark was fleeting. It was quickly replaced by a furrowed brow and a cold but averted gaze.
The heavy mahogany door banged open bringing a startled gasp from Tristan. Brook hurried out of the arms of the man escorting her to cross the room and collapse in Simone's open embrace.
"Is she okay? What happened? What did the doctors say? Can I see her?" The words poured from Brook's mouth in a rising flow of panic.
"Easy, there's no word yet. Don't get crazy," Gareth hushed as he rubbed his sister's shivering shoulders.
His words served to increase Brook's tears. Gareth began to roll his eyes but caught sight of Tristan. He immediately stopped himself before he said anything resembling criticism of his grief stricken sister. However, it took him several more minutes to realize there was another set of eyes watching his family's agony.
"Greg? What are you doing here?" Gareth questioned as he rose to shake the hand of the man responsible for the daily maintenance of the Sebastian family's residences in Massachusetts.
"Oh boy," Tristan, aware of the significance of his presence, said louder than she intended.
Greg took a quick look over his shoulder to ensure the reporter didn't speak again. Tristan drew back to make herself a smaller target. If she could have folded herself in half she would have.
"We have more important things to worry about today, Gareth. There'll be plenty of time later for you to ask Brook why I'm here," Greg said in soft tones so only Gareth could hear.
Gareth slowly shook his head as he understood the meaning of Greg's statement, "Jesus, today is getting better and better. A word of warning, if you hurt her I'll land on you like a ton of manure."
"I'd expect nothing less," Greg replied in the same soft tone he began with.
A light rap at the door captured the occupants' attention and silenced all conversation. A short woman followed the knock into the room. She wore blue surgical scrubs from bonnet to booties.
"Who is Ms. Sebastian's proxy?" The doctor asked with a light Indian accent.
Both Simone and Brook started to speak but Gareth interrupted, "Sage doesn't have a proxy. I've been begging her to do it but she's so stubborn. She never listens to me…,"
"Then the next best would be next of kin," the doctor turned to Simone. "Husband, father, or mother is preferable."
Simone stood leaving Brook sitting alone on the couch, "I'm her mother, Simone Sydney-Sebastian."
"Dr. Ramaswami," the woman replied as she shook Simone's hand. "Let me give you the up date. Sage is in surgery…"
"Oh God," Brook gasped as she clawed to her feet only to be forced back down with a gentle push from Greg.
"She has extensive injuries. Two have us pretty worried at the moment. Her eighth and ninth ribs fractured lacerating her liver. She's bleeding into her belly. We need to stop that fast or we'll lose her."
Simone waited unblinking knowing the doctor was preparing to impart the very bad news she had come to give them.
"Sage's left arm snapped in at least three places. The splintered bone tore open an artery and ruptured through the skin. Repairing that damage to ensure any use of the limb would mean hours of micro surgery. If that were her only injury then we'd have a fifty fifty shot of success at saving the hand or saving the arm and that is a best case scenario. But, it is not her only injury. To be blunt, Mrs. Sebastian, the team believes Sage will not survive if we try to save the arm."
Simone ignored Brook's growing sobs behind her, "Are you asking for permission to amputate her arm?"
"Yes."
"Do it, oh God, just do it. Save my baby," Brook was beyond reason as she cried out her despair.
Simone's lips twitched with a momentary grimace, "Doctor, my daughter is an artist. She sculpts beauty out of stone. It is not just what she does. It's who she is. If you take her arm then you end her life."
"Mom, no!" Brook began to shout and Greg held her closer to his chest. "Save her life. Don't let her die! I need her."
"Brook, calm yourself," Simone paused to admonish her daughter. "Now Doctor, you tell me what surgeon you need to save my daughter and her arm. I'll have them here…"
The doctor was loosing her patience, "Mrs. Sebastian, it doesn't matter who you bring in here. You might not want to believe this but your money can't buy you the answer you want. Sage is on the brink of death. There's no time to waste waiting for another surgeon to tell you the same thing I just did. We must amputate the arm to save her life."
Simone gritted her teeth and ground out her answer one well articulated word at a time, "Listen very carefully, you do not have my consent to amputate Sage's arm. You will save her life with her arm or not at all. Now doctor, I suggest you get back into that surgery suite before you delay my daughter's recovery one more minute."
The doctor attempted to appear unfazed by Simone's venomous reply. "If that is what you want us to try to do then we really have no choice."
She merely shrugged and turned to leave.
"No, wait. I'll give you permission. I'm really her…,"
"Brook, sit down and shut your mouth," Gareth shouted over his sister's tearful attempt to claim maternity and stepped into block her way to follow the doctor.
Simone ignored the commotion behind her to keep her eye on the departing Dr. Ramaswami. She wanted to be sure the woman was out of ear shot before she turned her attention to Brook. There were too many outsiders already monitoring the Sebastian family melt down already; no need to add another casual observer to their melodrama.
When Simone finally faced her daughter, Brook was seated with Greg gently holding her in place on the sofa. Tears continued to stream down Brook's face but her wretched sobbing was waning.
"If she dies," Brook hissed the words like a curse at her mother, "I'll hate you forever."
"Yes dear, that's exactly what I would expect you to say to me," Simone's shoulders remained squared but her voice wavered under the weight of insult to injury.
"She said no, right?" The surgeon next to the gurney called to Dr. Ramaswami without lifting his eyes from his work.
Ramaswami just nodded yes knowing he did not need a verbal reply.
"Then you owe me five bucks," Dr. Solomen chuckled. "And, you are very lucky that I'm as good as I am or vascular would not have even a sliver of a chance to finish up on that broken wing."
"Vascular has a name," the woman bent over Sage's outstretched limb stated evenly as she continued her delicate work.
"Don't get snippy, Norman," Solomen rebutted in good humor. "If it's not too much to ask, do you think you could move the bone setting along so I can save this girl's life?"
"Cretin," Dr. Norman sighed with infinite patience. "Okay, my last stitch is in and the bleeding's stopped. Some blood flow is restored to the hand. That should hold her until you butchers finish up with her belly."
Ramaswami asked, "What do you think, Pam, will she be able to use the hand again?
Pam shook her head as she straightened up and stepped out of the surgical area, "Hard to say. Right now she's just pieced together. If she's stable enough after Joel finishes, I'd like to get back in there and try a couple of fancy things. Never mind that Ortho still needs to deal with the bones. They're a God Damn mess too."
Pam approached Ramaswami as she peeled off her gloves, "It would have been so much safer to take the arm. We've left her wide open for bleeding, infection…,"
"Pam, she's an artist. Her arm really is her life," Ramaswami reminded the surgeon.
"I know, I know," Pam closed her eyes feeling the strain of the delicately detailed work settling into a throbbing head ache. "I have one of her pieces on my desk. She was brilliant but that's probably behind her now. She's not going to be an artist with a useless dominate hand."
Ramaswami gazed over the other woman's shoulder to see Solomen begin his part of the relay surgery, "Her mother said without her arm, Sage is dead anyway."
"Oh sure, that sounds good until the kid really dies. Wanna bet they'll sic their pack of hungry lawyers on us for following the family's wishes?" Pam asked with a hint of exhaustion in her voice.
Ramaswami shook her head no. "I've lost enough money on this one already. I'm not going to risk anymore on foolish optimism."
"What is she doing here?" Brook asked when she woke from the nap she had cried herself to sleep.
"Let it go, Brook," Gareth suggested from the sunken couch he planted himself in hours ago.
Brook leaned forward toward Tristan sitting across the room, "You are not welcome here. Do you hear me you little bitch? Get out!"
Greg tried to pull Brook back into a hug but she succeeded in struggling to free herself. Gareth cursed as he frantically fought to get off the low couch in order to defuse the brewing storm.
"Maybe I should go?" Tristan, uncharacteristically meek, offered as she attempted to rise.
"Oh, you better get going or I'll…," Brook hissed taking three steps closer to the injured reporter.
"STOP!"
The command from the far end of the room did, indeed, stop all the action. Simone waited until all eyes focused on her before continuing.
"Brook, sit down. Tristan, you are going nowhere so make yourself comfortable. Gareth, relax or you're blood pressure will have you on a stretcher next. Greg, dear, would you call the house and ask Child-Hassam if Granville is resting. Dr. Tsu gave him a sedative so he should still be sleeping. If not then Tsu should be called immediately." Greg nodded and mutely got up to exit the room before Simone added, "Oh and, be sure to ask Mr. Matthew's if he's tracked down Cade yet. Thank you, dear."
"Will do, Ms. Sebastian," Greg answered.
She gave a broad smile in return. "Please Greg, call me Simone. It seems you're one of the family now. No point in being formal."
"Sure," Greg felt the hammering in his heart lessen when the name easily fell from his lips, "Simone."
Tristan waited for the tall, dark man to leave before she worked up enough courage to say, "I really should get going. I've got, you know, work, deadlines, and all sorts of stuff."
Simone pointed at her and stated, "No, you'll stay with us and watch how this all plays itself out. You're going to write about it, Ms. Ayer; every stinking little detail. I insist. You'll be compensated well, I assure you. So, sit back and enjoy the destruction of my family. After all, it's something you've been salivating for, for a very long time."
Tristan sat back down. She wanted to say the monstrous accusation was false. Only a truly hateful person would welcome the horror which had so suddenly engulfed the Sebastian family. She wanted to believe she wasn't such a person but that would be a lie. Tristan had become a truly hateful person. And, the person she had hated for too many years to count was Sage Sebastian; a woman who might not survive the day.
Tristan, with a sudden and sickening realization, hated herself.