When he was done going over the images, he approached Hope with a smile. “It’s good news, kiddo. Looks like you have a pretty hard head.”
She lifted her purple cast. “My arm is soft.”
He laughed.
Melanie watched as he checked Hope’s eyes, her reflexes, and a few things that Melanie didn’t understand the need for. He asked Hope a few random questions that she was enthusiastic to answer. Hope told him she still had a headache and her arm pulsed.
“I will see you in the morning, Hope.”
“M’kay.”
“Mom.” He looked at Melanie. “Let’s have a chat.”
“Be right back, baby.”
“Want us to go with you?” Zoe asked.
Melanie shook her head. “I’m good.”
Doctor Bellingham walked her into a conference room, where she was met with two other people, one man, one woman . . . both in business attire and not hospital scrubs.
“What’s going on?”
“This is Ms. Gomez, head of risk management here at the hospital, and Mr. Coban, one of our attorneys.”
“Risk management and attorneys?”
“Miss Bartlett, Hope’s father is creating quite a fuss about being denied access to his daughter,” Ms. Gomez told her. “The scene he caused last night and the report from the nursing staff in the ER have given us what we needed to keep him away temporarily.”
“Hope doesn’t know her dad.”
“We understand that.” Mr. Coban leaned forward. “When your daughter was in less stable condition, the doctors had no problem suggesting his presence could hinder her recovery.”
Melanie picked up on one key word. “Had . . .”
“Right.” Doctor Bellingham sat in the chair beside hers and placed a hand on her forearm. “I can keep Hope in the ICU tonight, but tomorrow I’m going to downgrade her to the pediatric floor. Chances are she won’t be there very long before I discharge her home. While I’m sure meeting her father will be a shock, my medical opinion about it harming her recovery at this point is that it won’t.”
Melanie squeezed her eyes shut.
“Without a restraining order, there isn’t much we can do about keeping a father from seeing his child in the hospital,” Ms. Gomez said.
“I’ve spoken with Mr. Stone’s attorney and they’ve agreed to wait until Hope is out of the ICU before forcing the issue.”
So Nathan had hired one of his own to push his way in.
“There’s nothing I can do to stop him?”
“If he causes a scene, becomes a threat, we have full rights to make him leave.”
She knew when Nathan had shown up in River Bend it wouldn’t be the last she’d see of him.
“If it’s any help, I’ll request child services to be present when Hope’s father arrives tomorrow.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” she whispered.
Mr. Coban and Ms. Gomez stood to leave. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
They didn’t bother trying to shake her hand as they left the room.
Doctor Bellingham held back. “There’s something I wanted to tell you about without Hope listening.”
“Oh?”
“One of the things we see a lot in head injuries is a change in temper, personality. I’ve seen extreme cases where patients become violent for no apparent reason, bouts of anger, sometimes depression. Families report a shift in behavior that wasn’t present before the head trauma.”
Melanie stopped thinking about Nathan and once again focused on her daughter. “She seems fine. The same sweet girl I had yesterday. More tired than normal, but the same girl.”
“And she may be. I just don’t want you to be shocked if she does something, or says something out of character. Try and be patient and let me know what you see. There are some great websites that talk about post–head trauma issues. I’ll have the nurses print you a list.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
He patted her shoulder and left her in the room by herself.
When Wyatt walked in a few minutes later, she let him hold her while she told him about Nathan. In the end she said the part that scared her the most. “He’s hired an attorney.”
“To force access to the hospital?”
“What if it’s more than that? What if he wants more? Custody? The things he said in the ER . . . I can’t afford a lawyer, Wyatt. His family has connections.”
“What kind of connections?”
“He is Nathan Stone the Third. Both his father and grandfather are lawyers. I remember early on him saying something about his father wanting to run for governor. Nathan would bitch about senator this and mayor that and how he had to attend all kinds of fancy parties when he was a kid.”
“Those kind of connections.” Understanding filled Wyatt’s face.
“What am I going to do?”
Wyatt placed his palms on both sides of her head and kissed her briefly. “You’re going to go back to Hope’s room. You’re going to eat whatever Zoe puts in front of you. And then you’re going to read Hope a bedtime story before curling up on that god-awful recliner chair and try and get some sleep.”