CHAPTER 4

Monica arrived at Alan's office door and saw a stream of light coming through the bottom. She knocked, and when she didn't receive an answer, she opened the door and found Alan sitting behind his desk, his face buried in his hands.

"Alan?" she said, approaching his desk.

A very shaken and distraught man looked up at the sound of his wife’s voice. "I just heard about A.J. I can't believe it, Monica. Have you seen him? The nurse on his floor assured me he was going to be fine, but I need to hear it from you."

Monica pulled up a chair and sat next to her husband. "He is doing as well as can be expected. He was in a lot of pain, but the lab figured out the antidote, and they began to administer it to him."

"I did this to him, Monica. I can't believe it, but I did. He's in this hospital because of me, enduring more pain because of me. How could I have done this to him?"

"That's why I'm here. I want to know what happened tonight."

Alan looked at Monica and shook his head. "I don't know. Keesha called the house looking for you, and I told her you weren't home. She said A.J. was sick. I went over there, examined him, determined that it was food poisoning, and gave him what I thought was the proper medication."

"Did you check the medication before you put it in your bag?"

"Yes. I suspected the flu, so I prepared for that, but I had also thrown in a couple of different vials in case it was something else."

"And what about the medication that was already in your bag? Could you have gotten them mixed up?"

"I suppose. But I know about A.J.'s medication allergies. I've been treating him since he was a baby. I can't believe I made that kind of a mistake."

"But, apparently, you did. So, we need to figure out what happened."

"I know that!" Alan snapped. "Why do you think I've been sitting here? I'm trying to go over every last detail in my mind. My god, Monica, I could have killed our son tonight."

Monica placed her arm around Alan's shoulder. "I know that, sweetheart, and that's why I'm about to say something you may not like."

"What?" Alan asked, looking at her.

"A.J. seemed to think you were possibly under the influence of something tonight when you examined him. Were you, Alan?"

"No! I had just gotten home from the hospital when the phone rang. I had barely taken off my coat, much less fixed myself anything to drink."

Monica hated what she was about to ask him. "What about painkillers? Had you taken any of those?"

"I had a headache earlier, so I took two aspirins. I hardly think that would impair my judgment."

"That's not the kind of painkillers I'm talking about, and you know it. Damnit, Alan, I need to know the truth!"

Alan rose from his chair and began to pace his office. "Who told you about the painkillers?"

"It doesn't matter. I just want to know if they were somehow involved in this incident."

"Look, Monica, I am taking full responsibility for what happened to A.J. It was a mistake, granted a huge mistake, on my part, but that's all it was."

"I don't believe you, but I have no proof. But believe me, I am going to watch you like a hawk, and if I see you so much as swallow one painkiller, I'm going straight to the board of directors."

"Monica...." Alan began, but she stopped him.

"If you can't be honest with me, we have nothing to talk about. Oh, but I have a newsflash for you, Alan. Your son, A.J.? He thinks you hate him. He thinks you purposely tried to kill him tonight. How does that make you feel? Does that make you need a drink or a pill?"

"Monica, you have to know that A.J. is wrong. I know we have our differences, but..."

"Do I, Alan? How can I know that my son is wrong when I've just held him in my arms and assured him that everything's going to be okay, and then I come here to talk to you, and I get nowhere. I'm not sure I know who you are anymore. I don't know if A.J. is right about the hate, but there is one thing he's right about. Something is wrong with you. And I'm going to find out what it is if it kills me. Oh, and one more bit of information for you. A.J. doesn't want you anywhere near his room while he's in this hospital, and I don't either. And as of tonight, you are no longer his doctor. I am."

With that, Monica turned and walked out. A dazed Alan was grateful his wife had left because at the moment, he was too numb to have formulated any kind of a coherent response. .

Monica leaned against the wall in the corridor outside of Alan's office to pull herself together. She knew A.J. was right about there being something wrong. She saw the glassy look in Alan's eyes as he tried to focus on her and failed miserably. How could she not have seen this before? And what was causing it? She suddenly felt very tired as she made her way to the nurses' station to ask Theresa how A.J. was doing. She said he was doing well and that she was about to check on him.

"Would you like to accompany me?" Theresa asked.

"Yes. I'd like to see him one more time before I head home."

They entered A.J.'s room and saw that he was wide awake.

"Mom! I didn't expect you to still be here."

"I had a few things I needed to take care of. How are you doing? Are you getting any sleep?"

"I doze off."

Monica felt his forehead and cheeks and knew without even taking a reading that his fever was still high. She made her way to stand next to Keesha's makeshift bed while Theresa took a new set of vitals.

"And how about you?" Monica asked Keesha. "Are you getting any sleep?"

"I doze, too, like A.J.'s been doing. How are you doing?"

"I'm okay. I'm tired and ready to go home, but I thought I could offer A.J. some support. Is he doing better?"

"I think so. He seems calmer."

Theresa recorded his vitals and showed the chart to Monica before she left the room.

"Now that I know you're doing okay," Monica said to A.J., "I'm going home to get some sleep. I hope you get some, too. And you, too, Keesha. Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Mom. Thanks for everything."

"Goodnight, Monica."

"How did my mom seem to you?" A.J. asked Keesha when he was sure Monica had left.

"She seemed like a woman who's had a very long night and is in need of some serious sleep."

A.J. nodded. "I guess you're right. I was just wondering if she found out anything from my dad."

"Do you think she wouldn't tell you?"

"I don't know. After my outburst earlier, she might be afraid to set me off. But I don't want my mom to go through this alone. This is as much my problem as it is hers. I want us to help each other."

Keesha rose from the chair and made her way to A.J.'s bedside.

"Has anybody ever told you that you worry too much?" Keesha asked him, grabbing his fingers with hers and shaking them.

"No," he said. "I think what people have told me is that I don't worry enough."

"Oh, so you're going from one extreme to the other, is that it?" Keesha asked, not entirely teasing him. "Sweetie, you need to be concentrating on getting well. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but whatever's going on with Alan and between Alan and Monica and among all of you will still be there when you get out of here. So, in order to be able to deal with it, you first need to get well enough to go home."

"My Keesha, always the voice of reason," A.J. said and sighed, but he knew she was right. Besides, there wasn't much he could do from a hospital bed. He just hoped that his mom would find out the answers.

Keesha gently admonished A.J. for fighting sleep. She told him to close his eyes and let the sleep come and that she would do the same. They both slept soundly, only waking up briefly when Theresa would check on A.J.


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