Molly - Sarah Monzon Page 0,31
how becoming the look was on her as I hit the button to lower the garage door. Once effectively shut in privacy, I discarded the scrubs, wishing I could burn them instead of wash them, threw them in the top loader with three detergent pods, then dashed through the house to the bathroom.
Steam rose from the shower and I hopped in, feeling like a chicken being prepared for plucking with how hot the water ran. A good lather and enough scrubbing to remove a layer of epidermis (not really, but it felt that way) and any chance of the bacteria remaining on my body.
Ten minutes later, skin flayed but no longer a carrier of disease, I stepped out of my room in a pair of basketball shorts and a Stampeders t-shirt. Molly sat on the floor with her laptop and a scattering of open books on the coffee table in front of her. She looked up at me and wordlessly handed me a sleeve of Double Stuf Oreos.
“What’s this for?” I sat on the end of the couch, the wrapper crackling as I ripped open the end.
She rotated her position on the floor so she faced me instead of her computer. “Someone once told me sugar helps release the happy chemicals in your brain.”
Oreo debate. Twist the two chocolate ends, lick out the frosted center, then eat the cookie bits, or bite into it like a sandwich? I stuffed the whole thing into my mouth. “Someone might need to also tell you that eating your feelings isn’t really the healthiest thing to do,” I said around the crumbs. “Besides, what makes you think I need a sugar rush?”
Her smile was small, soft, and full of compassion. “When tears dry, they leave a trail of salt behind.”
I reached up and touched the corner of my eye.
“Did, um…” She hesitated, and I braced for her question. “Did you lose a patient today?”
My breath puffed out of my chest, riding on an ironic chuckle. “No. Saved someone, actually.”
Surprise lit her eyes. “And that made you sad?”
I clenched for the wave of emotions to hit, but I was spent. What others would see as a victory felt strangely like defeat. My muscles melted into the gray fabric of the couch, a boxer refusing to get up from the floor of the ring. TKO.
“The patient reminded me of my wife,” I finally admitted, my eyes closed. If I was going to talk about Laura, I’d do it in the darkness. Maybe then I could bring to mind the way she’d looked at me while we’d said our vows and not get lost in the steady gaze I felt along my profile.
Silence filled the room like an unwanted third person. But Molly didn’t evict the usurper, so I had to. My voice trembled. “She died. My wife. Laura.”
A shifting sound before Molly spoke. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Ben. I can’t imagine how hard losing someone you love can be.”
Hard wasn’t the right word. Not with a synonym being unbreakable. Losing Laura had broken me. Only God as the infinite potter had been able to put me back together again. The cracks were still visible, if one looked hard enough. But infinite love held me together. “Every day gets easier, although I know how clichéd that sounds.”
This time she didn’t let quiet settle in. “How did your patient today remind you of Laura?”
How indeed. But she wouldn’t understand if I didn’t start at the beginning. “She gave birth at that hospital. One of her friends had just had a baby, and there were complications with the delivery. Her son received the medical care he needed from state-of-the art equipment because they’d delivered at the hospital. But, as with everything, there are risks. Very rare risks.”
I let my head fall forward and opened my eyes. “An outbreak of invasive group A streptococcus spread through the ward. In eight days, three women died. Laura was the first.”
Molly’s eyes glistened, as if she could feel the pain I’d felt that day. I held out the sleeve of cookies to her and she took two.
“Streptococcus is a healthcare-associated infection. Not dissimilar to what I discovered in my patient today.” For a long time it had been hard for me to grapple with Laura’s death. Cognitively, I knew why she had died. The bacteria that had invaded Laura’s body caused her blood pressure to plummet and her organs to shut down one after the other. Any doctor could explain the