“You can talk to your family for a minute.” The nurse slid the mask off. “Then we need to put this back on.”
“Hey, baby.” Ella smiled a lazy smile and reached for Harry. He shot toward her, rubbing his left eye with the heel of his hand. “Don’t be scared. Everything’s fine. I’ll be home soon. So proud of you for coming to the hospital.”
They threaded their fingers together, and Felix stood frozen in place. An outsider watching through an invisible window.
Finally, her eyes settled on Felix; she squinted as if staring directly into the sun. “Take Harry home. Doesn’t need to see this.”
“I had to come.” Harry tugged on his shirt—hard enough to rip it. “I had to. What did they say? Are you going to be okay? Are you, Mom?”
Harry’s breath sped up; he pounded his chest. Any minute now he could explode into a tornado of tics. Ella gave another punch-drunk smile. How much sedative had they given her? Was she too looped to calm Harry?
“Shhh. I’m fine. No pain.” She gave an odd laugh. “Treat this as an excuse to skip school. Stay home tomorrow, play video games.”
“No.” Harry clucked. Again and again. “I have a calculus test. And I don’t want to stay home.” Harry glanced at Felix. His look clearly said, With you.
Felix fixed his attention on the top line of the monitor, the heart rhythm line. “Why don’t all the heartbeats look the same?” he asked the nurse. “Is that something bad?”
Harry started twitching. His left elbow flapped in several short, sharp bursts.
“Certainly not, sir,” the nurse said as she slid the oxygen mask back into place. “You’re seeing skipped beats, or what we call premature ventricular contractions. They look a bit different than normal beats, but I can assure you they’re very common in this setting. Nothing to worry about.” She fussed with Ella’s sheets.
“What does MAP mean?” Felix said, still staring at the monitor.
“Mean arterial pressure.” The nurse puffed up a pillow. “And the bottom one is oxygen saturation.”
“Yes. I figured that out.” Felix paused. “What do you know about the cardiologist, Ella? Do we need to get a second opinion?”
Ella closed her eyes briefly. She loosened the oxygen mask. “Take Harry home. I’m fine.”
No. For once, could she need him as much as he needed her?
“Not until I’ve talked with the doctor.” Felix turned to the nurse. “Why isn’t he here? Where is he? Is he the best? What are his credentials?”
The nurse’s head jerked back, creating a stack of double chins. “You need to be patient.” She spoke as if addressing a non-English speaker. “He’ll be in shortly.”
Felix clenched his fist. Shortly was not good enough; shortly was not a call to action. “I’ll phone your father while we’re waiting for the cardiologist.”
Ella shook her head.
“No? But what should I do if he calls the house and asks how your flight was?”
More violent head shaking, and then Ella pushed up the mask.
“I’ll call Dad tomorrow. Phone Katherine,” Ella said. “Tell her to come here. You guys leave. Katherine will . . .”
“Mom?” Harry became a spinning top wound too tight.
Felix ignored him. “I’m not leaving until I’ve talked with the doctor.” He walked to the bed and rested his hand on Ella’s leg. “Nurse, why did the oxygen saturation just drop from ninety-eight to ninety-six percent? What does that mean?”
“Nothing, sir.”
“It means something, otherwise—”
Harry grabbed his neck as if trying to strangle himself. His head did the weird sideways tic he’d released at the airport. A new tic.
“Our son has Tourette’s,” Felix said to the nurse.
“Shhh.” Ella reached for Harry, but her hand swam through air. “Felix, please. Harry needs to leave. Call Katherine. She’ll stay with me.”
“I’m not leaving. Not until someone tells me what’s going on. I will not trust your life to people I don’t know. Suppose they’ve been sued for malpractice.”