Authors: Judith Townsend Rocchiccioli
Shortly
before noon, Mona softly knocked on Alex's office door. Mona knew that Alex
was upset and hated to disturb her, but she felt she needed to check on her.
So far, she had been successful in holding off the hordes of people searching
for the hospital attorney this morning and she had managed to successfully
stall and reschedule most of her meetings. Still… Mona hated to bother her.
Alex had been so distressed when she returned from the Pavilion a little while
ago. Mona had heard her crying in her office.
There
was no answer to her knock. Mona hesitated, thinking before she knocked
again. If she hadn't received the phone call from Donald Montgomery, she
wouldn't bother Alex. But, as usual, Montgomery had acted like such an ass on
the phone she knew she had to notify Alex. Hesitantly, she knocked again on
Alex's door.
"Come
in. Door’s open," Alex said, her voice faint and hard to hear.
Mona
opened the door slowly and stood in the doorway. "Sorry to interrupt you,
Alex, but Montgomery has called an emergency meeting of the hospital executive
committee about the attacks. Leticia called about an hour ago." Mona
sounded apologetic for interrupting.
Alex
picked up on Mona's hesitation. "Thanks, Mona. It's okay. Thanks for
letting me know. I'm okay now, but I did lose it this morning. When's the
meeting?" Alex spoke in a flat voice and she looked whipped. She didn't
sound or look better to Mona.
Mona
examined her critically. "It's at 2 o'clock this afternoon in the
executive conference room. Leticia said something about a press release and
some other matters that will be discussed. You sure you're okay, Alex? You're
looking mighty beat up!"
Alex
smiled at Mona's typically Mississippi description of her. "I'll be
okay. I just look terrible because most of my makeup has worn off. I cried it
off. I'll put it back on before the meeting. Thanks, Mona." Alex
hesitated for a moment and added, "I appreciate your concern. Thanks for
letting me cry and giving me the time to do it. I know you rescheduled all of
my meetings."
Mona
nodded and left the office. As Mona returned to her desk, she thought about
Alex. Alex had been up practically all night, had been through hell, and was
going back for more this afternoon. Mona silently agreed with Bridgett, who
adored Alex. They had discussed how amazing Alex was and how great a role
model she was for women. Bridgett had confided to Mona that she thought Alex
was insecure with men and had also whispered that she didn't think Alex had
ever gotten over her marriage to Dr. Bonnet. Besides, it had only been six
months since her relationship with Mitch Landry had ended so tragically. Poor
Alex, thought Mona. She has so much, but she also has so little. As she
returned to her computer, Mona was infinitely grateful for her husband, her two
small children, and her little house in Kenner. She was thankful for being
able to work part-time and was totally glad she wasn't the high-powered
Alexandra Destephano. Regardless of how beautiful she was or how much money
she made or how much respect she garnered, Alex’s life was hell.
Alex
checked her watch. It was half past noon. Time to meet Monique and Jack for lunch
in the cafeteria. She sighed. She was exhausted and felt as if she were 100
years old. Every iota of energy had been drained from her. She walked into
her private bathroom to redo her makeup and was shocked at her appearance in
the mirror. Mona had been right -- she looked bad, really awful. She looked
like hell. No question. For the first time, she noticed small dry lines and
wrinkles in the corners of her eyes and around her mouth. Her flawless fair
skin was pasty white and her normally lustrous auburn hair looked dull and
lifeless.
I'm
really a mess! I look terrible, and I feel like hell! As she repaired the
damage to the best of her ability, she made a pact with herself to take some
extra vitamins and get more exercise. She needed to get more rest as well.
That would help. Finally, she was reasonably pleased with her appearance and
headed towards the cafeteria when her thoughts were interrupted with what she
was sure was a telepathic message from her grandmother, Grand. Kathryn Lee had
always told her to look her best when she was on her way to slay her dragons
and Montgomery and Whitset were certainly the dragons du jour. Bastard
dragons, actually.
Alex
smiled when she thought about Grand. She made a mental note to call her tonight.
She missed her grandparents and she missed Virginia. She was beginning to hate
New Orleans. Her mind flickered to the job offer on her desk. Maybe, just
maybe, she ought to consider it. It would take her home to Virginia.
Besides, her grandparents were getting older and, even though the Congressman
hadn't slowed down a bit, Alex had noticed some fatigue and weariness in her
grandmother that she had never seen before and it bothered her. Just thinking
about her home in Virginia and her grandparents lifted her spirits and gave her
the energy she needed to move forward
. God bless them,
she thought.
Alex
steeled herself for the rest of her day and admitted that it totally sucked, as
she walked towards the hospital cafeteria. As she contemplated her afternoon,
she frowned. She wasn't looking forward to meeting with the Smithsons,
especially with Whitset present, and she knew the executive meeting she was
headed to was going to be a battle or, more likely, a sham.
She
waved as she saw Monique waiting for her outside the hospital cafeteria.
Monique grabbed Alex by her arm. "Let's get out of here, Alex,"
Monique hissed. "Whitset is waiting for you in there. I told him you'd
left the hospital for lunch and that you would meet him at about 1:30 on the
unit to talk with the Smithsons. I figured you didn't want to eat with
him."
Alex's
blue eyes were sharp and her voice was brittle. "You figured right.
Only, I want to meet him somewhere else. I’ll call Mona and tell her to have
Whitset and the Smithsons meet me in my office conference room at 1:30. I
don't want them witnessing anything unpleasant in the Pavilion and thinking
again that their mother should not have been admitted there."
"Good
idea, Alex. The fire is going to be hot enough anyway. No sense adding more
fuel."
Alex
nodded in agreement. "Let's run over to the Cajun Café. I'll call Mona
from there. Is Jack coming?"
"Nope.
He's downtown running checks on Anthony and our boy Whitset." Monique
smiled grimly at Alex. "Jack also says he has to meet with the medical
examiner this afternoon.”
"Why?
Anything special happen?" Alex looked speculatively at the psychiatrist.
"No,
not that I know of. I think he just wants to drop off some pictures of Angie
so the medical examiner can compare them with Mrs. Smithson. You know Jack.
He's pretty involved in this. Actually, he’s so emotionally involved it
bothers me."
Alex
looked critically at Monique. She took a risk and said plainly, "Yeah, I
know. Let it go, Monique. We're all involved and Jack's M.O. for years has
been to become personally involved in his cases. That's the type of cop he is
and that's why he's where he is. Police officers like Jack François are few and
far between."
A
faint blush was perceptible on Monique's pale cheeks. Alex knew she was trying
to control her anger. She spoke again, her voice matter of fact.
"Monique, I'm not trying to offer advice or cause trouble, but Jack is
Jack, and that's how he operates. It's just part of him that you'll have to
get used to or not …."
Monique
interrupted her, her voice cool. "All right, Alex. I've got it. Let's
table this for now. I'm too tired for another emotional shakedown. So are
you. I know you're right and I know I can't change him. It would've been
easier if his first case with us as a couple hadn't occurred on my medical
unit."
Alex
laughed at her friend. "Yep, for sure, it certainly would've been -- but
sometimes life's a shit sandwich and we all have to take a few bites!"
Monique
laughed at Alex's description, which she knew came straight from the mouth of
Congressman Adam Patrick Lee. Alex seldom used profanity and, when she did, it
was for emphasis. By this time they were in front of the restaurant.
"My, my, my, where are your genteel Virginia manners and where did you
learn to speak like that?"
"You
know exactly where that came from because you've been there!" Alex eyed
the door thankfully. "Good, no wait. We can go straight in. And, the manners,
I left them at home -- better watch me at the table. Order me the special and
I'll call Mona."
The
Cajun Café was a small coffee shop inside the CCMC complex. It was usually
filled with patients, staff, and family members for lunch, but for some reason
the lunch traffic was light today. The food was authentic Cajun cuisine and
the chef took great pride in his menu. The café was gaily decorated with a
Cajun bayou motif and watercolors of New Orleans street scenes painted by a
local artist. Monique slid into the back booth at the rear of the restaurant,
while Alex fished in her purse for her phone. By the time Alex finished her
call, Monique had ordered iced tea and crawfish étouffée for both of them.
Pierre, the owner and chef of the Cajun Café, was arguing good-naturedly with
Dr. Desmonde over the proper Cajun spices for étouffée.
When
Chef Pierre saw Alex, he bowed gallantly from the waist and said with a big
smile on his face, "Miss Alex. I'm honored. Please enjoy your meal.
I'll send a special chocolate dessert your way. You know, I know your
favorite."
Alex
smiled her thanks and she, Monique, and Pierre chatted for a few minutes before
the chef left the women alone to enjoy their lunch.
The
service was quick and within several minutes, they were eating the rich,
delicious étouffée. Alex asked how things were going at the Pavilion.
Monique
looked at her sideways. "Well, pretty well, I guess. That should be
obvious since I was able to get over here for lunch. Most of the patients are
still heavily medicated. Several others are depressed ... that is, more
depressed than usual. Overall, there's still a feeling of shock up there.
Things could break bad tonight or tomorrow when the patients rally and start to
talk about things -- you know, when the meds wear off. The community meeting
should be interesting today and tomorrow, especially since we canceled all
privileges!" Monique rolled her eyes as she imagined the backlash she
would get from Anthony.
Alex
sighed. "Yes, I suspect you're right. We've got to get Don and Whitset
to agree to hire more security at the Pavilion for the next few weeks."
"Good
luck with that, Alex," Monique said in a sarcastic voice as she arched her
eyebrows. "Whitset told me this morning he wasn't authorizing any
increased help – – either professional or security. He maintains the unit is
safe …."
Alex
interrupted her, her face flushed with anger and her voice defensive.
"That's insane! That man's crazy! If it was safe and we had enough staff,
Mrs. Smithson would more than likely still be alive today."
Monique
held up her hand. "Save it for the executive meeting, Alex. We will need
all the support we can muster to fight the boys. From what I can tell, Whitset
has Montgomery in his pocket. It's pretty disgusting." Monique pulled
vigorously at her chignon and several large masses of her dark here came loose.
Alex
was astounded at how 'human 'Monique had become in the past few days. Before,
the distinguished psychiatrist, while always supportive of Alex and friendly,
had been aloof, cool, and unapproachable – or, at least, unapproachable in a
proverbial human sort of way. Now, she seemed to be real -- a real person like
Alex, who struggled endlessly with the trials and tribulations of working in a
male-dominated organization. It wasn't that Alex had a problem working with
men in general, it was just that she had a problem working with incompetent
people … and most of the incompetent leadership at CCMC was male.
Thank
goodness she was meeting this side of Monique Desmonde. It was going to be
great to have a colleague to hang out with who was part of the same
dysfunctional organization. Of course, she had Elizabeth, but Elizabeth was
much younger and Alex was both her boss and her mentor. It wasn't quite the
same. Dr. Desmonde was a power broker in the organization.
Alex
touched her shoulder and said, "Monique, in some respects these events,
terrible though they are, have created a bond between us. We'll work through
this together."
Monique
squeezed her hand in return and said, "I agree. Two heads are better than
one and I need all the help I can get."
Alex
nodded and continued, "Let's figure out a strategy for this afternoon's
meeting with Don Montgomery." She thought for a moment and said, "How
about you approach the need for more security from a patient and staff safety
point of view and I'll approach it from a legal and image position. We ought
to be able to get what we want. Don's hot button is the CCMC image and he
wants no airing of our dirty laundry.”
Monique
looked uncertain. "I'm not so sure, but I hope you're right. We have to
go,” she said as she ate quickly. She checked her watch. "We're meeting
with Whitset. I invited myself, hope you don't mind?"
"Not
at all. It's got to be hard. I'm glad you're coming! The poor Smithsons. I'm
dreading it. It's still so horrible." Alex had a tragic faraway look in
her eyes as she remembered the scene.
"Yes,
it's horrible and Whitset's horrible, but we've got to meet with them. I'm still
angry that chicken shit Montgomery isn't coming. It makes me furious when he
dodges these nasty issues!" Monique was mad. She only cursed when she was
really mad, kind of like Alex. They saved the profanity for when it really
mattered. Another lesson from Alex's grandmother.
Alex
shook her head and said sarcastically, "Now, Monique, where are
your
genteel
manners? Surely you know by now that our esteemed CEO only pays attention to
the positive things that happen here. Don thinks he's a deity and the only
person who does any work!"
Monique
smiled ruefully at Alex. "Hell yes, I know." To quote an observant
police Commander, 'Donald Montgomery is an incompetent SOB.'" Monique and
Alex both laughed as Alex's phone sounded, signaling a text. It was Mona
texting her a quick, "Get in your office quick!" As she was gathering
her things in the café, an enraged Donald Montgomery grabbed her shoulder
roughly.
"Where
the hell is Desmonde? I want to talk with both of you. Where the hell is
she?" Don's voice was loud and people at nearby tables looked at him
sharply.
Alex
was shocked by Don's behavior. "Monique's gone to the ladies’ room.
Please lower your voice."
Don
continued to hurl angry and profane epithets at her, while a number of patrons
eating lunch in the café turned to stare at the well-dressed man whose speech
would make a sailor blush. One gentleman stood up as if to intervene on Alex's
behalf. Even Chef Pierre had emerged from the kitchen, wielding a large
chopping knife. He was looking questioningly at Alex. She smiled, but with a
small movement of her finger, she motioned for him to go back into the kitchen.
Alex's
voice was soft. "Don, what's the matter? Come on over and sit down."
She gently grasped the CEOs arm and led him to the table where she and Monique
had just finished their lunch. Alex saw that people were still watching them
and she smiled courteously at the people around them. Alex hated scenes. She
also hated to see people make fools of themselves because it embarrassed her. Don
did it frequently and she still hated it. By this time, Monique had returned
and sat down.
Don
sat down. Alex and Monique looked at him expectantly, waiting to hear the
cause of his most recent outburst.
The
CEO looked around the restaurant and saw for the first time that people were
staring at him curiously. He lowered his voice and quietly blasted his words
at the two women, his voice hissing a torrent of swearwords like the air
escaping from a dying sailor.
"Why
in the hell didn't the two of you take care of the Smithsons? The man literally
stormed my office a few minutes ago demanding to see his mother. Damn you all!
Both of you are useless, incompetents. Why didn't you talk with him?"
Don's face was so red that Alex thought he might have a stroke. Monique hoped
he would.