Outlaw - By Nicole James Page 0,83
okay?”
“Yeah. Sure. Thanks.”
Cole could tell she was uncomfortable with them being in his room. He wondered if she was embarrassed for them to find out who the father of her children was.
The two officers walked out.
When the door closed, Angel turned to him. “What did they really want?”
The corner of Cole’s mouth lifted. “Mornin’ to you, too, babe.”
She walked over to him. “I’m sorry. Good morning. How are you feeling?”
“Sore. Ready to get the hell out of her.” He smiled, and took her hand, pulling her close for a kiss.
“What did they want?” she repeated when the kiss was over.
“How’s Melissa doing? Have you seen her yet?” He changed the subject.
“She’s doing good. Now tell me what they were doing here,” she insisted.
He blew out a breath, realizing she wasn’t going to let it go. “Damn, baby, you’re like a dog with a bone. Won’t ever let it go. That was just the welcome wagon.”
“What did they say to you? Tell me.”
“Angel, it’s okay. They just wanted to welcome me to Arizona.”
“Bull shit.”
“Not a big fan of you swearin’, babe.”
She stared at him with her hand on her hip.
He sighed, and shook his head. “What do you think? They probably already have a file started on me.”
“A file?”
“Babe, it’s no big deal. Just the usual drill. They want to make sure I find my way back to California, ASAP.”
She shook her head, and looked away. “I can’t believe they did that.”
“Said they worked with your Dad. They friends of his?”
She nodded.
“Have they been helping you out since he died?”
She looked at him. “How did you know?”
He shrugged. “Cops take care of their own.”
“Yes, I guess they do.”
“Same thing the club would do for a member.”
“Really?”
“Yep.” He studied her. “So, what kind of help have they been giving you?”
She looked away, and shrugged. “Some of them tested to be donors. They’ve collected some money for the hospital bills. Stuff like that. Why?”
Things his club should be doing for her, he thought. “Just wondered.” He stood up. “Let’s go see our daughter.”
When they got to Melissa’s room, they were required to wear masks, and gowns, and wash their hands with antibiotic soap. They suited up, and walked into her room.
Her pediatric oncologist was there checking on her. He turned, and looked over at them. “Hi, folks. She’s doing well.”
Cole walked over to him, and held his hand out, and shook the doctor’s. “We haven’t met. I’m Cole Austin. Her father.”
“Right. The donor. Nice to meet you. And how are you feeling?” the doctor asked.
“I’m doing fine. How is she?” he nodded toward Melissa, who was asleep.
“Like I said, she’s doing well. How much do you know about the transplant process, Mr. Austin?”
“Not as much as Angel, I’m sure.”
“Well this is the most critical stage, called engraftment. It normally takes two to four weeks. During that time the immune system is crippled, and very susceptible to infection and excessive bleeding. We’ll be checking her frequently for signs of fever, chills, hives, chest pain, etc. She’ll be on multiple antibiotics and blood transfusions of platelets to help stop any bleeding. Blood samples will be taken daily to determine whether engraftment has occurred, and how her organs are functioning.”
“Engraftment?” Cole asked. “What’s that?”
“Sorry. It’s when the marrow you donated to her start to grow, and make new blood cells. When engraftment finally occurs, and her body begins producing normal blood cells, she’ll be taken off the antibiotics and blood and platelet transfusions.”
“And when does she get to go home?”
“It depends on how she does. She’ll be discharged when she has a sufficient number of healthy red blood cells and white cells and platelets. It can take up to four to eight weeks in the hospital.”
“Wow. I hadn’t realized she’d be in here that much longer. When is she going to start feeling better?”
“Well, normally, patients experience symptoms much like a severe case of flu during that eight weeks. She’ll probably have nausea, vomiting, fever, diarrhea, extreme weakness.”
“My God.”
“After that it’ll take another two to four more months to recuperate at home. And I have to tell you, the first weeks at home she’ll just want to sleep, and maybe sit up, and maybe walk a bit. You’ll have to be bringing her in for doctor visits several times a week during that time. She’ll need to avoid crowds. The risk of infections will still be very high.” He paused, studying Cole. “I have to tell you, it’s a long road. It’ll be six months, maybe