That Space In Your Heart

Chapter 2. Home Again





Thirty seconds. Twenty-nine.

It was the first time Rocket Romano had ever counted down the minutes left till he would allow himself to take a break.

It was the first time he’d taken a break.

With twenty-eight seconds left, he gave up on fulfilling his self-determined time quota and slammed out of his office. Boredom was an ugly thing. As was a one-armed surgeon. And a career that relied on other people’s suffering.

This morning, before he barged into the lounge and saw her standing two yards away, he’d been wondering why he’d returned to these halls that smelled of sterilization and death, to the job no one needed him to fulfill.

But then she was there, in front of him. Looking like hell in an utterly enchanting way: those deep violet shadows under her eyes, betraying her exhaustion; the feverish red flush splashed across her cheekbones; the trembling tension of her mouth. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the shivering droplets of water clinging to the tendrils of hair around her neck, sliding down the side of her neck to disappear under the collar of her scrubs.

He winced and drew his mind away from the memory. He couldn’t think about Lizzie anymore without recalling in bitter humiliation that moment of confession as she tended his severed arm. Had he imagined it, or was there a new kind of self-consciousness when she talked to him? As if she pitied him, felt sorry for him. His chest tightened with impotent rage, at himself and at Elizabeth and especially that goddamned helicopter that started the whole thing.

He decided he’d go and check on a patient who had come in with third-degree burns at midnight, see how the surgery went. It would occupy him for a few minutes.

The elevator was empty as Romano came in. In the silent moment before the doors closed, he gave himself up to a tingle of lonely anticipation – would he see her, would she pause when he approached? Would he be able to control himself throughout another excruciatingly distant conversation?

But then someone catapulted herself into the elevator, squeezing through as the doors began to close, nearly slamming into Romano himself. He backed away, containing his irritation, and the young blonde turned to him with a dimpled smile and said in one breath, “Sorry about that I’m just in the worst hurry ever.”

He nodded and gave her a tight little half-smile.

She was holding a child, a little chubby thing with blonde ringlets and wide blue eyes that he recognized from somewhere. Romano examined the little girl with a friendly wink. “Hey there.”

She looked back at him, her gaze probing him with frank curiosity, and he remembered where he’d seen her eyes before.

Then Ella pointed at the loose left arm of his jacket and said, “Arm. Arrrrm.”

The woman flushed deeply and tried to shush Ella. Romano shook his head. “No, uh, it’s okay.” He reached out his index finger to her curled fists and touched the miniature fingernails lightly. “Ella can do no wrong in my eyes.”

“You know Ella?” the woman said, her embarrassment dissipating.

“Yeah. I’m, uh, I used to be Dr. Corday’s boss, actually.” He tried to laugh. “Those were the good old days.” Of course, she’d hated him back then. And half the time he hated her too, but the air between them would always crackle with fury. Fury and lust. And they had never been able to stay furious, had always ended up sharing those sly glances of recognition after one or the other had emerged the victor.

The elevator lurched to a stop. “I’m Chris, by the way,” said the woman as they stepped out.

“Robert Romano.”

“Sorry, I’d shake your hand but mine are kind of full. Listen, Dr. Corday doesn’t know I’m coming, do you know where I could find her?”

“I’d guess the lounge,” Robert said. “I’ll take you there, if you want.”

She smiled cautiously at him, sneaking a curious look at his arm. Romano nodded down the hall to the lounge and walked a little ahead.

The lounge was empty, but as they emerged Elizabeth herself rushed by, looking frantic and frazzled, her hair in a complete mess. She recognized Chris and skidded to a stop.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, peering at Ella with clear worry.

“I’m so sorry about this, I know you’re busy, but my sister—”

Romano faded away, back into the lounge, and poured himself a cup of coffee, keeping his ears pricked to hear what was going on outside.

“She was in a car accident, and she’s five months pregnant, and I promised her I’d come because she’s –”

Curtly Elizabeth cut Chris off before she could start to cry. “I understand. Go on. Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Corday.”

As Romano emerged from the lounge, Elizabeth waved a sympathetic good-bye to Chris and took Ella’s hand, looking worried.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“I have an open laporotomy in about five minutes and the man’s going to bleed out if I don’t get to him in about thirty seconds. I can’t get to the day care center in time and—”

“Lizzie,” he said, forgetting his mental resolve to act cool to her. “I’ll take her. Don’t worry.”

She looked up at him, considered for a moment, and then smiled. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“No problem.” He gave Ella another little wink, and she stared warily at him.

Elizabeth walked down the hall towards the scrub room, checking back over her shoulder about twelve times to see that Romano hadn’t let Ella wander off and put something sharp or poisonous in her mouth. Nice to see how much she trusts me, Romano grumbled to himself as he took Ella’s hand and let her press the down button on the elevator.

*

Late that night, the door to Romano’s office opened without a knock.

He looked up slowly, lingering on the self-deceiving hope that the face he’d been imagining was the one at the door.

But it was Lewis, her face warm and friendly. “Hey, Robert,” she said.

“Hi,” Romano said with a brief, not-too-grumpy nod. Susan wasn’t too bad. Rather a sweetheart, actually, unlike the rest of the idiots out there.

“Jerry brought in donuts,” she said. “They’re disappearing pretty fast, and I thought you might want one. You didn’t take a lunch break.”

“Hunh,” Romano said. “Yeah, why not. Jerry can spare the calories.”

Susan giggled. “So could I, but who cares…” She paused. “Hey, Robert – welcome back.”

He shrugged. “Thanks.”

A big bakery box lay open on the desk. Romano took a big cinnamon donut and bit into it with relish. He’d forgotten what good food tasted like; he’d stopped cooking at home after the tea fiasco, and most of his meals these days came out of a can.

“Hmm, yeah, but the guy would have gone into failure anyway,” Jing-Mei was saying.

“She could’ve waited,” Kerry said.

Robert pricked up his ears, hoping for a useful piece of ER gossip he could wield later as a weapon.

“Well, the treatment means you don’t risk failure,” Susan said. “I mean, it did save his liver.”

“Too bad someone nicked the bladder,” Kerry said. “People will sue for anything. She shouldn’t be surprised this is happening.”

“I smell scandal,” Romano said. “Whose hands are dirty this time?”

“Elizabeth’s,” Kerry said.

“Why am I not surprised,” Romano muttered. She was practically the only surgeon left here, and she did tend to cause problems more than most.

“She did an experimental procedure on a liver that hadn’t failed yet,” Susan said. “But I don’t think it was necessarily wrong. I mean, the guy had no family until after he went into a coma.”

“Hey, speaking of Elizabeth,” Chuny said, passing by. “As fascinating as all this medical stuff is, has anyone heard about Dorsett recently?”

“They’re still together?” Haleh said incredulously.

Romano forgot to keep chewing his donut and bent his head down, listening intently, trying to hide his interest. The air felt thick and soupy in his nostrils, smothering him.

“It’s been more than six weeks,” Chuny said. “That’s gotta be a record for him.”

“Two nights would be a record for him,” Haleh retorted.

He couldn’t listen to any more of this. With a shaking hand Romano tossed the remainder of his donut into the trash bin under the desk and stood up straight, looking for an easy retreat.

He met Weaver’s prying gaze as he tried to slip away. What a hawk, he thought crossly, matching her pointed, knowing look with as evil a glare as he’d ever mustered.

With his office door safely closed behind him and the laughing gossip out of his ears, Romano leaned against the wall, cursing himself out. Was that a flicker of hope that had died when he heard them talk about Dorsett and Lizzie? If it was hope, he was more of a fool even than he’d thought himself.

A grim little smile spread over his face. At least she was back at it, finally. After three years of occupying herself solely with Mark, Elizabeth Corday had rediscovered the hardheaded ambition she’d forgotten.

That ambition was what he had noticed about her: before the expressive mouth, before the wide blue eyes, he saw that she’d go far if she had to kill to do it. Her all-consuming drive, so similar to his own, was why he brought her to America – why, leaning against the unforgiving wall, he had to fight to maintain his bleak smile.





Chapter 3: Liability