“Thanks, Maise.” Sera was out of the car and running for the entrance to the ER before Maisie pulled away.
* * *
Ben rotated his arms and tipped his head back to ease the knot between his shoulder blades. For two hours and forty minutes, his mind had been entirely consumed with the delicate surgery necessary to stabilize his patient, and now that it was done he was suddenly stiff and weary. Yet knowing that everything had gone as well as it possibly could have was exhilarating.
Without stopping to remove his operating room garb, Ben headed out to the waiting room, where a nurse had told him Gemma’s relatives had gathered. The small room smelled of stale coffee, sweat and fear and was crammed full of people, standing, sitting, crouched in corners. If these were all Cardano relatives, Gemma had a big family. The ear-splitting clamor of voices subsided immediately when Ben entered.
Gemma’s father hurried over, his arm around a plump, pretty middle-aged woman with a mass of graying curls. The strained expression on their faces told Ben how frightened they both were. He gave them a reassuring smile and reached out to shake their hands.
“I’m Dr. Ben Halsey.”
“Aldo Cardano, and this is my wife, Maria. How is she? How’s our Gemma?”
“She’s doing well. She’s in Recovery. You can see her in a few minutes. I’ve stabilized her fractured jaw and inserted a tracheal tube. I should warn you she looks pretty battered. It’ll be ten days to two weeks before we can fully repair the facial structure. I’m confident we can expect a good result at that time. There shouldn’t be any loss of vision. The fractures didn’t involve what we call the floor of the orbit, the bones that support the eyeballs. However, she might lose her sense of smell. We’ll just have to wait and hope that doesn’t happen. We’ll be keeping a close eye on her, watching for any signs of infection or excess swelling. But your daughter’s young and strong. Chances are she’ll do just fine.”
A buzz of relief and renewed concern circled the room, and it seemed as if everyone drew in a deep breath and exhaled it.
Aldo Cardano’s soulful eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, Dr. Halsey. Thank you very much.”
“This tra— This tube.” Maria Cardano frowned at Ben. “Does that mean she can’t breathe properly on her own?”
“No. The tube’s a precaution because she’s unconscious and because she’s had extensive damage to her jaw. With the jaw wired, we don’t want her to choke.” Ben smiled at the woman reassuringly, thinking how attractive she was with her strong features and smooth, nearly unlined olive skin
“Why do you have to wait so long before you operate on her face? Why not do it right away?” Maria wanted details.
“It’ll be a long operation, and we want Gemma to recover from the trauma of the accident before we proceed. Also, I need to do some preliminary work first.” Ben explained how he planned to rely on CT scans and computer technology to prepare for the surgery. Aldo appeared confused, but Maria nodded.
“Basically, I’ll do a three-dimensional reconstruction of her uninjured face and then use it as a template.”
“Like a pattern for how she looked before?” Maria shook her head. “But, doctor, you don’t need a computer for that.” Maria motioned with a hand. “Seraphina, come over here, carissima.”
Mystified, Ben watched as a young, slender woman who’d been standing nearby and listening intently to their conversation moved over to Maria. She was obviously Maria and Aldo’s daughter; she had her mother’s bone structure and her father’s long, straight nose and huge, deep-set brown eyes. Her golden-brown hair was long and loose. Untidy strands curled around her face; reflexively, she raised a hand and shoved them back.
She wasn’t tall. Ben was five eleven, and he guessed her about five six, but her perfect posture gave the illusion of height.
“This is Gemma’s sister, Sera.” Maria spoke as if that solved the matter.
“Hello, Sera.” Ben studied her. She had arresting good looks. “Your sister and you resemble each other?”
“Yes, we do,” she said in a quiet, resonant voice. “Gemma and I are identical twins.”
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About The Author
Bobby Hutchinson was born in a small town in interior British Columbia in 1940. Her father was an underground coal miner, her mother a housewife, and both were storytellers. Learning to read was the most significant event in her early life.
She married young and had three sons. Her middle son was deaf, and he taught her patience. She divorced and worked at various odd jobs, directing traffic around construction sites, day caring challenged children, selling fabric by the pound at a remnant store.
She mortgaged her house and bought the store, took her sewing machine to work, and began to sew a dress a day. The dresses sold. The fabric didn’t, so she hired four seamstresses and turned the store into a handmade clothing boutique.
After twelve successful years, she sold the business and decided to run a marathon. Training was a huge bore, so she made up a story as she ran, about Pheiddipedes, the first marathoner. She copied it down and sent it to the Chatelaine short story contest, won first prize, finished the Vancouver marathon, and became a writer. It was a hell of a lot easier than running.
She married again and divorced again, writing all the while, mostly romances, (which she obviously needs to learn a lot about,) and now has more than fifty-five published books.
She decided she needed something to do in the morning in her spare time, so she opened her first B&B, Blue Collar, in Vancouver, B.C. After five successful years, she moved home to the small coal mining town of Sparwood, where she now operates the reincarnated version of the Blue Collar.
She's currently working on three or four or eight more books. She has six enchanting grandchildren. She lives alone, apart from guests, meditates, bikes, reads incessantly, and writes.
She likes a quote by Dolly Parton: “Decide who you are, and then do it on purpose.”
Bobby loves to connect with her readers. Visit her online at her: