The glowing sun reflected in the golden flecks of his eyes. Phil looked to Claire and then to Tony. “You already have.”
Tony said, “I was wrong to fire you. You’ve kept Claire safe and brought us back together. I want you to work for us. Stay.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Rawlings, my bank account is quite healthy. There’s only one person for whom I’d be willing to postpone my early retirement.”
The rush of panic that moments earlier had filled Claire’s chest, as she saw Phil leaving, subsided. Smiling, she released Tony’s hand and took a step toward her babysitter—her bodyguard—her friend. When she was but inches away, she lifted her arms. “Please stay. You’ve given me back everything. I know I can never repay you...but I hope you know—I want you to be part of our lives.”
Their hug wasn’t intimate. It was nothing like the display he’d witnessed moments earlier; nevertheless, it was a connection—a bond he’d never before experienced. As Claire’s arms encircled Phil’s neck and her petite frame leaned against his chest, Phil knew that he’d stop at nothing to protect her, to protect her baby, and to facilitate her happiness.
He spoke softly, “Do you want me to stay?”
Her green eyes spoke volumes, but it was her words that secured his future, “Oh yes, more than I can say, but the decision is yours.”
“I have one stipulation.”
Tony stepped forward, protectively placing his arm around Claire’s shoulders. “And that would be?”
“I don’t do diapers.”
The lingering sound of the plane faded into the twilight sky as Tony, Claire, and Phil made their way up the path toward the house.
Do what you feel in your heart to be right—for you‘ll be criticized anyway. You’ll be damned if you do, and damned if you don’t.
—Eleanor Roosevelt
Stepping through the doorway into a sea of familiar faces, Emily held tight to John’s hand. Everwood’s conference room bustled with counselors, therapists (speech, occupational, and physical), doctors (primary care, neurology, and psychiatry), rehabilitation nurses, and administration representatives—all with one patient in mind—Claire Nichols Rawlings. Various members of Claire’s care team greeted the Vandersols as they made their way to some empty seats at the table.
When it came to planning and treatment, Everwood was well known for their excellence. This was true with all their patients, but some patients received extra attention. It was no secret—Claire Nichols Rawlings wasn’t the average patient. First of all, she was incredibly wealthy. Second, her sister, next of kin and power of attorney, was excessively demanding, as well as incredibly involved, and lastly, Claire’s brother-in-law was an attorney, well versed in medical law. If pertinent revelations regarding her case were to be discussed, it required the presence of all members of her care team.
Today’s meeting was in regard to the information in Dr. Fairfield’s report. Dr. Carly Brown eased herself into the chair beside Emily. Squeezing Emily’s free hand, she whispered, “Don’t worry. Dr. Fairfield wouldn’t be addressing this entire crowd if he didn’t have some valuable theories.”
Tired of theories, Emily feigned a smile. Fighting the emotion building in her chest, she managed, “Thanks, Carly, I’m just afraid to get my hopes up.”
Dr. Brown smiled. “Hope is all we have. Don’t give up on your sister.”
Breathing deeply, Emily blinked back the tears. “It’s one thing for me to be disappointed—I’m used to it, but I keep thinking about Nichol having to deal with this one day.”
John leaned over, keeping his voice low as the rest of the room continued to murmur, “Let’s concentrate on Claire. Nichol’s young; we can keep her uninformed as long as possible.”
Emily nodded as she swallowed her tears. Everyone was taking a seat—some around the table and many in chairs at the perimeter. The overflowing room quieted as Dr. Fairfield began his presentation.
“Thank you all for joining me here today. I’ve spoken to many of you in the last few weeks; many over the phone. It’s nice to meet you in person. Let me begin by explaining my role as a neuropsychologist...”
Emily listened as Dr. Fairfield reviewed Claire’s condition. At first, it wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard before—
“It’s well documented that psychosis like what Ms. Nichols is experiencing can be the result of traumatic brain injury. Recent studies have supported the theory of delayed psychosis. This has been well documented in veterans as well as NFL players. It’s characterized by slowly developing psychosis or delayed rapid onset. There are case studies which have documented rapid onset occurring as long as fifty-four months post injury.”
Tony said, “I was wrong to fire you. You’ve kept Claire safe and brought us back together. I want you to work for us. Stay.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Rawlings, my bank account is quite healthy. There’s only one person for whom I’d be willing to postpone my early retirement.”
The rush of panic that moments earlier had filled Claire’s chest, as she saw Phil leaving, subsided. Smiling, she released Tony’s hand and took a step toward her babysitter—her bodyguard—her friend. When she was but inches away, she lifted her arms. “Please stay. You’ve given me back everything. I know I can never repay you...but I hope you know—I want you to be part of our lives.”
Their hug wasn’t intimate. It was nothing like the display he’d witnessed moments earlier; nevertheless, it was a connection—a bond he’d never before experienced. As Claire’s arms encircled Phil’s neck and her petite frame leaned against his chest, Phil knew that he’d stop at nothing to protect her, to protect her baby, and to facilitate her happiness.
He spoke softly, “Do you want me to stay?”
Her green eyes spoke volumes, but it was her words that secured his future, “Oh yes, more than I can say, but the decision is yours.”
“I have one stipulation.”
Tony stepped forward, protectively placing his arm around Claire’s shoulders. “And that would be?”
“I don’t do diapers.”
The lingering sound of the plane faded into the twilight sky as Tony, Claire, and Phil made their way up the path toward the house.
Do what you feel in your heart to be right—for you‘ll be criticized anyway. You’ll be damned if you do, and damned if you don’t.
—Eleanor Roosevelt
Stepping through the doorway into a sea of familiar faces, Emily held tight to John’s hand. Everwood’s conference room bustled with counselors, therapists (speech, occupational, and physical), doctors (primary care, neurology, and psychiatry), rehabilitation nurses, and administration representatives—all with one patient in mind—Claire Nichols Rawlings. Various members of Claire’s care team greeted the Vandersols as they made their way to some empty seats at the table.
When it came to planning and treatment, Everwood was well known for their excellence. This was true with all their patients, but some patients received extra attention. It was no secret—Claire Nichols Rawlings wasn’t the average patient. First of all, she was incredibly wealthy. Second, her sister, next of kin and power of attorney, was excessively demanding, as well as incredibly involved, and lastly, Claire’s brother-in-law was an attorney, well versed in medical law. If pertinent revelations regarding her case were to be discussed, it required the presence of all members of her care team.
Today’s meeting was in regard to the information in Dr. Fairfield’s report. Dr. Carly Brown eased herself into the chair beside Emily. Squeezing Emily’s free hand, she whispered, “Don’t worry. Dr. Fairfield wouldn’t be addressing this entire crowd if he didn’t have some valuable theories.”
Tired of theories, Emily feigned a smile. Fighting the emotion building in her chest, she managed, “Thanks, Carly, I’m just afraid to get my hopes up.”
Dr. Brown smiled. “Hope is all we have. Don’t give up on your sister.”
Breathing deeply, Emily blinked back the tears. “It’s one thing for me to be disappointed—I’m used to it, but I keep thinking about Nichol having to deal with this one day.”
John leaned over, keeping his voice low as the rest of the room continued to murmur, “Let’s concentrate on Claire. Nichol’s young; we can keep her uninformed as long as possible.”
Emily nodded as she swallowed her tears. Everyone was taking a seat—some around the table and many in chairs at the perimeter. The overflowing room quieted as Dr. Fairfield began his presentation.
“Thank you all for joining me here today. I’ve spoken to many of you in the last few weeks; many over the phone. It’s nice to meet you in person. Let me begin by explaining my role as a neuropsychologist...”
Emily listened as Dr. Fairfield reviewed Claire’s condition. At first, it wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard before—
“It’s well documented that psychosis like what Ms. Nichols is experiencing can be the result of traumatic brain injury. Recent studies have supported the theory of delayed psychosis. This has been well documented in veterans as well as NFL players. It’s characterized by slowly developing psychosis or delayed rapid onset. There are case studies which have documented rapid onset occurring as long as fifty-four months post injury.”
