“I’d be happy to do it,” Noah offered eagerly.
“That would be terrific. Why don’t we try Toscano tonight?”
“I didn’t know they did take-out.” Noah was aware of the Italian eatery on Charles Street as a Beacon Hill favorite and had eaten there with Leslie on several occasions.
“They most certainly do,” Ava said. “I’ve used them many times. Give them a call! Order whatever you want and get the same for me. I’m not choosy. I have some great Italian white wine in the fridge. It will be a treat. How do you feel about your on-call team tonight? As good as last night?”
“They’re fine,” Noah said. He had checked, trying to plan ahead. The in-house chief resident on call was Cynthia Nugent, who Noah thought was just as competent as Tom Bachman, if not more so. Once again he felt confident he wouldn’t be called unless the sky fell in.
“Then you might be willing to have a glass or two of wine.”
“I will enjoy it,” Noah said. It was an amazing feeling to be with someone who truly understood his responsibilities without his having to explain them.
Slightly less than an hour later, Ava and Noah were back at the counter table in the kitchen. Night had fallen and a floodlight illuminated Ava’s tiny garden, which included a fountain. Since the sliding glass doors were open, the sound of the water could be heard over the classical music that was quietly playing in the background from hidden speakers. Noah had ordered quite a feast, and Ava had opened a chilled bottle of Falanghina Greco.
“Will it ruin your enjoyment of your dinner if we start talking about serious stuff?” Ava asked with a playful smile. She was dressed in a mostly white butterfly-print summer dress, which Noah thought was charming. In contrast, he was wearing almost the same thing he had the night before. He had agonized for a time after his shower about wearing something different, but his choices were limited. He had briefly thought about wearing his resident whites just because he felt the most comfortable in them and thought he looked his best, but had nixed the idea as totally ridiculous. He’d mocked himself for being so pitifully insecure.
“As you like,” Noah said. He, too, was interested in getting it out of the way.
“You said in your text that your meeting with Dr. Mason was as bad as expected. Care to elaborate?”
Putting down his wineglass, Noah took a deep breath. “Just as we feared, we’re definitely in his crosshairs. He threatened to have me fired if I turn the case into a discussion of the concurrent-surgery issue.”
“Good God,” Ava said with emotion. “He literally threatened to have you terminated?”
“Well, not in so many words. What he said was that it would be a tragedy if my super chief resident year was prematurely terminated, which I take as the same thing.”
“The bastard,” Ava snapped. “I’m sorry. What about me? Did he talk about me specifically or about Anesthesia in general?”
“I’m afraid it was about you specifically,” Noah said. “You were so right last night when you described him as having a narcissistic personality problem. The man is a classic case. As you suspect, it’s pretty obvious that he was and is insulted by your rebuffing him. The man is out of control.”
“So what did he say, exactly? You don’t have to mince words. I can take it. I just want to know what I am up against.”
“Again, he said you were mostly responsible for what happened,” Noah said, lowering his voice as if someone might overhear. “It is so obvious that he is incapable of accepting any blame whatsoever. And by his putting the blame on you, it has him questioning if you should be on the BMH staff.”
“Why? Because of my personality or my qualifications?”
“I’m afraid a little of both,” Noah said reluctantly. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Ava’s feelings, yet he felt obligated to speak the truth. “Dr. Mason said you were a cold person, which made me bite my tongue, knowing what I know.”
“Thank you,” Ava said sincerely.
“You’re welcome,” Noah said. “With respect to your qualifications, I reminded him you had passed your anesthesia boards, at which point he questioned the anesthesia boards. I’m telling you, the man is out of control.”
For a few moments Ava stared out at the fountain in her garden. It was obvious to Noah that she was upset and turning the news over in her mind. Noah felt bad for her, but he felt worse for himself. He still didn’t think it likely that Dr. Mason could get her fired even if Dr. Mason was good friends with Ava’s boss. Whereas with himself, Noah was concerned Dr. Mason could possibly get him dismissed or, at a minimum, make his position tenuous if he put his mind to it. After all, he was an associate director of the surgical residency program and therefore was one of just three people in charge.
Ava redirected her attention back to Noah. “Let me guess,” she said. “Dr. Mason thinks I should have given general anesthesia even though it had been communicated that he wanted spinal.”
Noah nodded. “He claims not to have asked for spinal, and that his secretary merely included it because it had been used on the last hernia he’d done a hundred years ago. He said it is Anesthesia’s job to determine the appropriate anesthesia, and he didn’t care which was used.”
Ava took a deep breath. “You do have your work cut out for you.”
“Don’t I know,” Noah agreed. “I keep thinking it is going to be like walking in a minefield.”
“Did he bring up the patient and his role in this tragedy?”
“He certainly did. Actually, considering everyone involved in this case, Dr. Mason might be the angriest at the patient. He described him as having a ‘pea brain’ despite the man’s beloved employee reputation around the hospital. Deep down, Dr. Mason certainly knows it was the patient’s fault by eating a full breakfast and lying about it. But Dr. Mason also faults Admissions for not being more aggressive and finding it out.”
“All right,” Ava said, suddenly motivated. “Let’s talk specifics.” She sipped her wine and then took a bite of her dinner. “I’ve given this situation a lot of thought since yesterday evening,” she said. “First off, I think you have to understand it will be counterproductive to get into any kind of argument with this man, because if he gets mad, we can both lose. You are going to have to present the case with that restriction in mind.”
“Easier said than done,” Noah responded. “He got mad this morning, and I was trying to be as diplomatic as I could.”
“So what did he get mad at? Let’s analyze it.”
At that moment Ava’s mobile phone chimed, indicating she was getting a call. She picked up the phone, noticed who was calling. Immediately she pushed back from the counter. “Sorry,” she said to Noah. “I’ve got to take this.”
“Quite all right,” Noah said. He watched her leave the room, vaguely wondering who could be calling after nine on a Saturday night. For him it would have been easy to guess: the hospital. But he knew Ava was not on call. Noah toyed with his food, thinking it was impolite to eat without her. In the distance, he could just barely hear her voice, although at one point it became decidedly louder, as if she were angry.
After about five minutes Ava returned, placed her phone facedown on the counter, and climbed back onto her seat. “Sorry about that,” she said. “I know taking calls makes me a less-than-perfect hostess. But what can you do? Silly business sometimes interferes.”
“Is everything all right?” Noah questioned.
“It’s fine,” Ava said, with a wave of her hand. She smiled reassuringly. “Now, where were we?”
“You were asking what Dr. Mason got mad at when I spoke to him this morning.”