It took everything I had not to burst out laughing. Not a word was spoken as I handed Morrison a couple of gauze pads to wrap around his injury.

"I'll get another kit." I slipped out of the exam room. Once convinced I was out of Morrison's earshot, I burst out laughing just as Amy came into the supply room.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Morrison stuck himself with a spinal needle doing a tap."

"Again? He stuck himself last week while trying to inject a knee."

I shook my head in disbelief.

I found another spinal tap kit and headed back to room one. The patient was still curled up on the gurney as Morrison sat on the metal exam stool nursing his still bleeding finger. He stood when I walked in with the kit.

"I'll get a nurse to help you with that," he said, brushing by me, then disappearing through the curtain.

A few minutes later, Amy appeared. We smiled knowingly at each other. Amy took her place in front of the patient, cradling her in her arms and talking softly to her all the while I did the procedure. I inserted the big bore needle into the woman's back and successfully withdrew the straw-colored fluid from her spine. I held pressure for a few minutes with a sterile gauze pad until the trickle of spinal fluid stopped.

"You'll need to lie flat for a while so you won't get a headache," I said as I labeled the specimen and packed it up to send to the lab for testing.

Amy helped position the patient on her back. She removed the sheet stained with Morrison's blood and covered her with a clean sheet. "Do you have family or someone waiting for you in the waiting room?" Amy asked. "They could come in now if they liked."

The woman closed her eyes and shook her head, I'm sure trying to blot out the whole experience.

I took the specimen out to the desk and charted that the spinal tap was successful.

"Where's Dr. Morrison?" I asked Delores as I slid the patient's chart in the lab rack.

"In the lounge, nursing his wound," Delores said with a long, exhausted sigh. "You have another patient in exam room four and your girl with the broken arm is back from X-ray. Her mother has been out here three times asking when she can take her home."

"Let Dr. Morrison know the tap is done and I sent it to the lab," I said, thinking that his patient does have something going on with her. It could be meningitis, encephalitis, or even a brain abscess, but whatever it was, he needed to get out here and take care of her.

I picked up Courtney Blakeman's chart. "I'll be in X-ray," I said. "And then I'll see the new patient."

"Could you see the new patient first and do us all a favor?" Delores asked, peering at me over her half glasses as she handed me the chart. "Looks like another gastro. He's been puking since he got here."

I saw the new patient, read Courtney's X-ray, which showed a fracture of the distal ulna and old fractures of her fourth and fifth rib. I called the pediatric orthopedist on call to cast her, then went in to discuss the results with Courtney's mother.

But Courtney and her mother were gone.

"Anyone see where my girl patient went?" I asked a group of nurses and orderlies at the nurse's station.

Delores spoke up: "The mother signed the girl out AMA while you were in X-ray. She said she couldn't wait any longer and would be filing a complaint with administration, then stormed out, dragging the kid behind her."

"And you let her go?" I asked Delores. "Her arm is broken. She needs it set and casted."

"That mother was hell bent on leaving, and I wasn't about to get in her way," Delores said, her head weaving back and forth like Flip Wilson's Geraldine.

"Give me her chart. I'll give them some time to get home, then I'll call. This kid needs a cast, and her mother has a lot of questions to answer."

Delores handed me Courtney's chart. I dictated Courtney's X-ray results and updated the charting, noting that the patient had left against medical advice. I wrote admission orders on my gastro patient and dialed the Blakeman's number. Anger welled up in me when I heard: "I'm sorry, the number you've reached has been disconnected."

"Damn it!" I said.

"Address they gave is probably bad, too," Delores said matter-of-factly. "Apparently, these people have done this before."

"Now what do I do?"

"All we can do is file a police report and hope they show up again. I can notify the other ERs in the area. We can give them a description of the girl and her injuries."

"Good idea, Delores, thanks."

"Police report? Who needs a police report?" Dr. Morrison asked, stealthily emerging from the doctor's lounge, his index finger wrapped in fresh white gauze.

"My pediatric patient. Mother brought her in with a broken arm. Child fell off her bike. The X-rays showed some old fractures. When I went in to talk to the mother about it, she was gone. Signed the little girl out AMA," I said.

"Before you go jumping to conclusions, give the mother the benefit of the doubt. Give her a chance to get home and call the residence. Tell her to bring the girl back so we can treat her," Morrison said.

"I tried that already. Phone's disconnected."

"Then I guess we have no choice," Morrison said. "Delores, call the city police, tell them we need to file a report. Also, have them send an officer to the patient's residence to see if they can locate the girl so we can treat her. You might want to notify social services, too."

Delores let out a long weary sigh and dialed the phone.

Two more patients arrived in the ER-a three-year-old boy with a bee sting allergy and a kid who had swallowed a quarter. It was six thirty by the time I got them taken care of and discharged. It was time for a break.

The adult side of the ER was extremely quiet that night. Morrison still only had one patient. He was standing at the nurse's station, trying to look busy.

"I'm going on break," I told Morrison as I passed him at the nurse's desk.

"Knock yourself out," he said, never looking up from his chart.

I took the stairs down to the cafeteria, stopping at the payphone at the entrance. I dialed Rosetti's number, only to get the answering machine once again. "Rosetti, if you get this message, please call me as soon as you get in. I'm at work and will be here until midnight. Please let me know that you're-" The machine cut me off. I hung up the phone, frustrated and weary.

The dimly lit cafeteria was practically deserted. Only one worker was on duty, and a handful of medical staff was scattered throughout the shadowy dining room. When I felt anxious, I craved sweets, so I scanned the stainless steel counter for something to calm my nerves. I poured myself a cup of coffee and chose a piece of Boston cream pie to take the edge off. I paid for my coffee and pie and found a booth in the no smoking section of the dining room. The first fork full of pie tasted like heaven: spongy, sweet, and creamy. I was halfway through the pie when Regan appeared.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" I asked as Regan approached my table.

"The ward clerk said I might find you here. I hope you don't mind."

"No...not at all. Here, have a seat." I scooted around in the booth, making room for her to sit next to me. The scent of her freshly shampooed hair stirred memories in me that were better off forgotten.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?"

"No, nothing, I'm fine."

"What brings you to this hospital? Is Tess okay?"

"Tess is doing well. They let me feed her last night and again this morning."

"That's great. It sounds like she's going to be just fine."

Regan nodded. "I wanted to thank you again for coming to the hospital last night."

"No problem." I took a sip of my coffee. "I'm glad Tess is going to be okay. By the way, how's Jim doing? He didn't look too good when I left."

Regan looked down.

"I'm leaving him," Regan whispered.

"What?" I asked, not sure I heard her right.

"I'm leaving Jim. Actually, I'm going to ask him to move out."

"Are you sure you want to do that right now? What about the baby?"

Regan nodded. "I'm sure. He's been having an affair with some waitress from Clancy's. I guess telling me he worked at Clancy's was his way of trying to cover it up. He was with her at her apartment the night Tess was born. That's why we couldn't reach him to tell him about Tess."

"Oh, Regan, I'm sorry to hear that," I said. "How did you find out about the affair?"

"He told me. Apparently, he made a deal with God that if Tess was okay, he'd come clean with me. He swears he'll never see the other woman again and wants to start over, but I can't, Mina. I don't think I can ever trust him again."

"Yes, trust is a hard thing to get back." I knew about that. That was exactly the thing I was struggling with regarding my feelings for Regan.

"But you have a baby now, and she needs a mother and a father. You don't think your marriage is worth saving, even for Tess?"

Regan paused for a moment. "There was never anything solid between Jim and I to begin with," Regan said, looking down at her hands twisting in her lap. "We only got married because we had to."

Things were starting to fit into place. But the one question that remained unanswered was why Regan chose now, after all this time, to seek me out. Was she here that night because she needed a shoulder to cry on or was there another meaning behind her coming back into my life?

"Mina?"

I looked up. "Huh?"

"You looked a million miles away."

I smiled, hoping she couldn't see my bewilderment.

Regan reached over and touched my hand, sending sparks of old emotions through my heart. Her gaze met mine, and I saw what I had wished for since the day she left. My heart pounded. Regan spoke: "Mina, I was wrong. I never should have left when I did." She shifted closer to me in the booth. "I got scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Scared of what I was feeling. Scared of how I felt about you. Scared because I knew it wasn't normal to feel that way about another girl."

"But you knew I loved you, wasn't that enough?"

"Caselli!" Dr. Morrison's voice boomed from behind me. Regan snatched her hand away from mine, burying it under the table.

"What?" I answered, irritated.

"I've been paging you. Are you ignoring me?"

I looked down at my pager. Sure enough, there were three unanswered pages. I had the thing on vibrate, but because my lab coat was so big, I didn't feel it when it went off.

"No...I'm sorry. I told you I was going on break."

He placed both hands on top of the table and leaned in toward me. "Well, break is over. The police are here to take your statement about the girl with the broken arm and there are two new admissions waiting for you. This isn't a lesbian pickup bar. This is a hospital," he snapped.

My face reddened with embarrassment and anger. "I'll take care of it," I said, meeting his rueful gaze but cowering inside.

Morrison's face was a glowering mask of rage. He pushed himself away from the table and stalked off toward the elevator.

"I'm sorry...I probably shouldn't have come here," Regan said.

"No...no...I'm glad you came...that guy can be an asshole sometimes. Anyway, we need to talk...I mean, we have a lot to talk about. I get off at midnight. Can you meet me somewhere?"

Regan looked relieved. "Yes, anywhere."

"Okay. Meet me at my apartment, say around twelve thirty?"

Regan nodded. "If for some reason I'm not there, don't worry. It doesn't mean I don't want to be there. It only means I can't get away. I'll call you...please don't call me..." she said, embarrassment evident in her voice.

"I understand," I said. Regan stood and let me out of the booth. Our bodies brushed against each other. I felt a familiar ache in my lower belly. "Hope your night gets better," she said and turned to walk away.

Officer Mike Zucco was waiting for me at the nurse's station when I entered the ER. Mike was a friend of Sean's. When Sean and I were still married, we'd sometimes go out with Mike and his wife, Mary. It seemed strange to be around Mike under different circumstances. I wondered if he felt the same.

"Hi, Doc, how's it going?" Mike asked in his easy, casual way.

"Good, Mike, busy as usual," I said. "Sorry to make you wait. I was downstairs having a cup of coffee."

"Oh, too bad I didn't know, I could have joined you down there. I could use a cup of coffee," Mike said as he flipped open his notebook.

"There's some coffee in the lounge. I could get you a cup."

"No, that's okay. I'm getting off in an hour, anyway."

Mike took my statement and had me sign the bottom of the report.

"Were you here when they brought Pam in?" Mike asked solemnly.

"No...No, I wasn't."

"Sad that such a tragic thing happened to her. She was a good kid."

"Yes, that's what Sean said. I never got to meet her. I feel bad about that."

"If her old man were still alive, this definitely would have killed him," Mike said, his voice cracked with emotion.

I touched Mike's arm. "How's Mary doing?" I asked, changing to a more comfortable subject.