“You’re the bigmahaf, you bastard?” he shouted into the phone. “You never shoulda fired my son! He did a great job and he would never murder nobody! You’re not gonna take him away! I won’t let you! Mary and Bennie won’t let you! My granddaughter needs her father—”
“Dad, stop!” Simon grabbed him, holding him around the shoulders. Mary arrived at Feet’s other side and was about to take his arm when suddenly Feet let out an agonized cry, dropped the phone, and crumpled to the floor, clutching his chest.
Mary screamed. “He’s having a heart attack!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Bennie experienced what happened next as an awful blur. Mary screamed, loudspeakers barked. Simon knelt on the lounge floor, cradling his father, whose lined face had gone ashen. Nurses and doctors came running, racing into the lounge, performing CPR. A crash cart arrived, more personnel swarmed, and they brought the old man to life just as a stretcher arrived with even more personnel. Trained aides lifted him onto a gurney with an expert 1-2-3 count, taking his vitals all the while, then whisked him down the hallway to the emergency department of the University of Pennsylvania Hospital, which was just next door in the medical complex. A stricken Simon hurried behind the group, calling instructions to Mary to stay behind with Rachel.
Bennie remained on the periphery during the commotion, then accompanied Mary as they walked back to Rachel’s room. They didn’t talk because Mary was busy texting her father and mother to tell them to call her, and after they’d reached Rachel’s room and ascertained that the child was sound asleep, Mary stood outside the room, kept an eye on Rachel, and called a slew of relatives and friends, informing them as calmly as possible of what happened and answering all their questions.
Bennie was amazed to see how calm Mary was in an emergency, and couldn’t help but feel that the tables had turned, with Mary taking charge of the situation and Bennie standing numbly aside, her emotions churning within her chest. She remained outside the child’s hospital room, struggling to control herself, looking through the window at the little girl.
She had never been in a children’s hospital and couldn’t get used to the incongruity of the Mylar balloons and plush animals next to the IV stalks and the blood pressure monitors. And little Rachel looked so frail, her bald head so like a baby bird’s, with sparse flyaway hairs and dark circles under her eyes, even though her eyelids were closed. Her dimpled hand rested on her chest, showing a plastic IV port that sported a Monarch butterfly sticker.
Bennie kept replaying in her mind what had happened in the lounge, feeling a wave of guilt for having brought the power-of-attorney forms. She didn’t know what she had been thinking. Well, she did, which was worse. She had thought she was being helpful, but she had failed miserably. She’d grabbed the papers just as she’d left the office, thinking that she had made a heads-up play, but she’d been horribly wrong.
Bennie watched Rachel’s chest rise and fall, her thoughts turning. She didn’t know Feet and had no idea of his emotional state. She didn’t know how old he was or even why he was called Feet. She avoided using the nickname because it seemed so goofy, even disrespectful. Or maybe it was because she felt like such an outsider to Mary’s South Philly community. Somehow, she didn’t deserve to use the nicknames of people she hardly knew.
Bennie shook her head, only vaguely aware that she was doing so. Beyond Rachel’s bed was a window that overlooked the atrium, and there were even more happy Mylar balloons, mobiles, and a massive staircase of families moving up and down, living their lives in a hospital while their child went through some of the hardest ordeals the planet had to offer.And Bennie stood on the other side of the glass, wondering how she could not have realized what a mistake she had made.
Bennie felt tears come to her eyes, but kept her head turned from Mary as she blinked them away. She should have realized that showing Feet the papers and confronting him with the fact that his son was about to be arrested for murder could have provoked a heart attack. Especially since his grandchild was mortally ill. Worse, he had just learned that she had lost her marrow donor.
Bennie felt her chest tighten with fury at herself. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have been so blind, so thoughtless? Just because she didn’t wear her emotions on her sleeve didn’t mean she had none. She always tried to be professional, but she’d been so professional that she’d almost killed someone.
Bennie swallowed hard, trying to seal in the pressure building up inside. She prayed that Feet survived and she would never forgive herself if he didn’t. She didn’t know how Simon would survive it, with his daughter so sick and his father in an emergency department, an entire family in mortal jeopardy. And Bennie could finally understand what Mary had been talking about all these years, about how close she was to the South Philly community. As Mary made phone call after phone call, it became clearer and clearer to Bennie that Mary was as close to Simon, Feet, and his family as she was to any blood relative.
Listening to the phone calls, Bennie realized that her younger partner was at the center of a loving network, all of whom counted on her, relied upon her, and looked to her for guidance. Mary was completely in control, deserving of their respect, and Bennie wondered how she had missed all of this before and for so long. She had told Mary that she would be second-chair on the case and take orders, but had forgotten all about that with the power-of-attorney forms. She hadn’t even thought to mention them to Mary, much less to ask her if it wasokay to present them to Feet or Simon. She had simply reverted to form, functioning as if it were her case.
“Bennie?”
Bennie looked over, coming out of her reverie. “Oh.”
“Are you okay?”
“No,” Bennie blurted out, swallowing hard.
“You look upset. Simon always tells me, ‘See the child, not the illness.’”
“It’s not that, not only that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m sorry I showed his father those forms. I never should’ve done that, I didn’t know and I should’ve asked you—”
“Bennie, whoa, whoa, whoa. It’s okay.” Mary stepped back, surprised. “You couldn’t have known. You didn’t know him.”
“That’s the point, I couldn’t have known and yet I acted. I didn’t know him, and yet it was a terrible decision, Mary, he couldn’t handle it, he was too upset, and it’s all my fault—”
“Bennie, I’m as much at fault as you. You’re the one who was right. He shouldn’t have been in that meeting.That’swhat he couldn’t handle. Being a part of the whole discussion about the murder case, it was all too much for him. We should have taken it outside—”
“No, that wasn’t it, it was the papers.”
“No, it was the murder case, that’s why he grabbed the phone and yelled at Nate. Anyway, listen.” Mary stopped, brightening. “Simon just called and he’s stable.”
“He is?” Bennie felt tears begin to well up, but she willed them back down. “What happened?”
“He had a heart attack. They’re doing tests now. Simon is on his way back and then we can go.”
