Trish in Transition

By Maelyn Bjork

Michael and Patricia Novak and friends go to dinner on a snowy New Year's Eve. Patricia collapses at dinner and is taken to a small but new hospital. She is unresponsive and sinks into a coma. The medical personnel soon learn that the wine she drank was poisoned. When she awakes,

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bookside Press
• Release date: Oct 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9781778831843

Maelyn Bjork

Maelyn Bjork grew up in Utah, married and taught school in that state. She also lived and worked, in Arizona, California, and Colorado. She has always loved to read and soon the reading gave her ideas and inspired her to write. Once she retired from her teaching position she began to write and it became her passion. She holds a master's degree in foods and nutrition. She and her husband also love to travel especially to cruise. She lives in a suburb of Salt Lake City with her husband and demanding cat named BeBe.

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Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Dedication

I dedicate this book to the wonderful women and a few men, members of the Romance Writers of American, Utah Chapter. I have learned so much being in their midst, made great friends, and attended wonderful retreats.

We’ve had great fun. And especially to my critique partners, Sara Fitzgerald and Doree Anderson.

Chapter One

Michael Novak walked into the master bedroom of his ski mountain lodge and found his wife standing in front of the full-length mirror, surveying her reflection. Almost ready to leave? he asked with a slight tone of irritation in his voice.

She patted her already carefully arranged blond bob and checked her eye makeup, lip gloss, and the fit of her beaded black blouse. She then walked to the vanity table and picked up a burning cigarette and, after one last drag, quashed it out. Her hand wrapped around a wine glass and, with two long swallows, finished its contents. It was then that Patricia turned and gave her husband a bright smile.

Michael studied his wife. How she managed to maintain a nearly flawless complexion, trim figure, carefully cut and colored blond hair sometimes amazed him. He knew she counted every calorie of food that passed through her lips, but she seemed less interested in counting the liquid calories she drank and drank.

How many classes of wine have you had this evening, Trish? he asked.

Oh, one, maybe two. No more than that. Her bright smiled faltered. She glanced at her diamond-studded watch. Come, Michael, you said that we should arrive no later than eight p.m. She stepped around him and walked downstairs.

Picking up her Italian leather coat, he held it up and helped her into it. Breathing in a sigh of relief, he noticed she walked easily, her gait smooth and steady. She hadn’t had enough to drink to impair her movements in any way.

Soon they were driving on a snow-packed road and reached the freeway. Then because of the change of direction, Michael was forced to drive into a blinding snowstorm. Yet the car was steady enough for Trish to find a cigarette and push in the car’s lighter.

Trish, you know I don’t like you smoking in my car, Michael grumped.

Oh, please! she said in irritation. Just one little cigarette until we arrive at Gino’s. Since you quit smoking, you’ve been on this righteous campaign to stop the rest of the world from lighting up.

Not the rest of the world. Only you, and of course Jeanine. I don’t want her to start such a destructive habit. You well know how damaging smoking is to your health. He glanced at her and sighed. All the lecturing in the world would not stop her from smoking. She was the only one to do that.

Like lightning, her mood changed. She patted his hand, smiled, and made small talk. Look at the snow coming down, and was that little swerve of the car your lack of driving skills or the wind? She gave a little laugh.

It’s the wind. His jaw tightened in anger. I’ll be glad when I see Gino’s sign.

They reached the restaurant, and Michael jumped out first. The snow was ankle-deep, and Patricia had to hold on to her husband to keep from falling. When they reached the newly shoveled walkway to the restaurant, Patricia stopped and dropped her cigarette in the snow. See, I remembered that I cannot smoke in restaurants in Utah. She raised her chin and flashed him a superior smile.

The Richards, Michael’s dinner guests, were waiting for them in the restaurant’s entry. Patricia, this is Jason and Elaine Richards. Jason is going to head up the Phoenix office of Novak Enterprises. Michael put a hand on Jason’s shoulder.

Patricia smiled and shook hands with both. Turning to Elaine, she said. My, that tunic is a wonderful shade of green, so flattering. It enhances your auburn hair, very becoming.

Elaine gave Patricia a pleased smile. I’ve always loved to wear green, and since it is still the holidays, New Year’s Eve, I chose to wear this outfit. She shrugged and smiled.

Michael smiled inwardly. One of Patricia’s strengths was to make a new woman she met feel comfortable. It was one of reasons he married her.

Soon the four of them were shown to their table, and large menus were handed to each one of them. A basket of fragrant breads and glasses of water were brought by the server. I’m Antonio. I’ll be your waiter for the evening. Are you ready to order?

I believe I’ll have the halibut almandine, spoke Patricia. Also, I’d like the house salad and a bottle of Pinot Grigio.

Michael frowned at his wife. I’ll have the filet mignon—medium rare—salad, and what is a good red wine? By the way, change my wife’s order to a split of the Grigio.

Patricia glared at Michael, gave a slight shake of her head, but remained silent.

Elaine and Jason both decided on the steak. Jason looked up at the server.

We’ll have a bottle of your best Merlot, for the meat eaters. He laughed.

***

Through the kitchen door, Franco watched as Antonio took the Novak party’s order. Antonio hurried to the kitchen and gave the chef the order.

Franco, go down into the wine cellar, and see if you can find the blond lady a split of the Pinot Grigio.

Only a split?

Yes, her husband changed the order for the lady at table seven. Please hurry down and find one.

The pretty blond lady, isn’t that the same one that her husband half-carried out of here Wednesday evening? Franco asked.

Yes. No business of yours. Now go.

Franco hurried down the stairs and soon located the desired split of the Grigio. From his inside pocket, he took a syringe of liquid, wiped off the cork in the bottle with his shirt sleeve, and thrust the needle into the cork. Carefully he depressed the plunger. How much should he put in? It’s a split, not a full bottle. The lighting in the cellar was dim, and he struggled to see how much was left in the syringe. He wasn’t sure if he put in half or maybe more.

Hurry up, will you? Antonio galloped down the stairs and pulled the small wine bottle from Franco’s hand. I’ve already served their salads, and I need the wine.

Franco tried to stuff the syringe back inside his coat, but when Antonio yanked the wine from his shaking hand, he dropped it. It skittered across the floor and slid under a rack of wine bottles.

Franco, while you’re down there, find a bottle of Chardonnay, Antonio yelled.

***

In the dining room, the Merlot had been served, but not Patricia’s wine. She reached for Michael’s sleeve. Where’s my split? They probably don’t have the smaller bottle. Ask the waiter, please?

Eat your salad and some of the bread. I’m sure the waiter will bring it soon.

Several minutes passed and Patricia did sample the bread and began to eat her salad. Michael glanced at the entrance and noticed several more diners come in. We’re getting quite a crowd in here, so be patient.

Antonio hustled over with the Grigio in an ice bucket. He opened the wine, glanced at it, and poured a glass for Patricia.

***

She took a sip and frowned. It has an unusual taste. Perhaps it’s the salad dressing. I’ll eat some bread to cleanse away the taste. She took another sip of the wine and again frowned.

***

Michael watched Patricia sip the wine and frown. Trish, we can order another bottle of wine if that one doesn’t please you.

She tore off another piece of bread, ate it, and took another sip of wine. It’s okay, Michael. I’ll drink this one.

The main courses were served, and Patricia began to eat the halibut. She took several bites, nodding to her fellow diners as they exclaimed about the tastiness of their steaks.

This is absolutely the best steak I’ve eaten in some time, Elaine commented.

Jason and Michael both agreed with her.

***

Patricia drank more of the wine and ate more of both the bread and the fish. As she drained the glass, she felt so dizzy she touched her head. Her stomach was burning, and she clutched her midsection. Suddenly her vision blurred. Michael. She reached for him. Help me! she choked out and slumped to the floor.

Michael knelt by his wife. Trish, Trish, what is it? He touched her face. It was cold and damp. He shook her shoulder, but she did not respond. He stood up and, in a loud voice, called out, We need an ambulance!

Elaine quickly knelt by Patricia. She felt Trish’s throat for a pulse. She looked up at Michael and said, We can’t wait for an ambulance. We need to get her to a hospital, now!

Antonio appeared, wringing his hands, a worried expression on his face.

***

Jason turned to him and shrugged unto his coat. Give me the check, and box up those steaks. We’ll take them with us. He watched as his wife followed Michael carrying Patricia to the front entrance. He signed the check and called out, I’ll follow you in my car. At the last minute, carrying the sack of steak dinners, he went back in and grabbed the bottle of Grizio from the bucket. Jason exited the restaurant, slipping, sliding to his car. He watched the BMW Sport SUV exit the parking lot and drive south onto the frontage road.

***

Where’s the nearest hospital? Elaine asked.

There’s only one fairly close, Michael said. It is the Iron County Regional Hospital. It’s new, but fairly small. When we reach the first exit to Cedar City, we take it. Michael turned for a quick look at Elaine, who had Patricia across her lap. How is Trish? he asked. He tried to focus on the road ahead, the wind, and the lashing snow, which seemed to just get worse. I can’t understand what happened to Trish. She’s never collapsed before.

We’ll soon find out. The sign back there read First Exit, One Mile. Elaine was forced to shout because of the buffeting of the wind. Something unusual has contributed to her condition. You can just bet on it.

Though tense and worried, he expertly guided the vehicle to the off-ramp, turned right, and drove for the large building looming in the distance. There it is. I’ll find the emergency entrance.

***

The hospital staff was alerted when the emergency doors flew open and Michael stormed in carrying Patricia. A quick-thinking orderly ran and met him with a gurney. What happened? the orderly asked.

She collapsed at dinner, Michael said as he lowered her onto the rolling bed.

A nurse came toward them and pointed to an empty room in the emergency area. Bring her in here.

The intern on duty that evening ran in. Check her vitals, ordered the young doctor, but he actually began to do it himself.

The nurse gently took Michael’s arm and led him to the waiting-room area. We can help on your wife better if we have more room to work in the area.

Elaine stood in the visitors’ area, waiting for Michael. She still held Patricia’s leather coat.

***

Elaine looked up to see Jason come bustling up, carrying the sack of food, which also held the split of wine.

I brought the steaks. I couldn’t see leaving them. I paid the check, since we ordered them. He sat down on one of the lime-green plastic chairs.

Good idea. Elaine jumped up. I’ll go find some eating utensils.

But where will you find— Jason called to his disappearing wife.

Michael dropped his coat and Patricia’s on a beige plastic sofa, and he began to pace. I know she likes to drink, but she didn’t have that much. Something else caused her to collapse, but what? I wish they would hurry, he mumbled to himself.

Elaine returned with eating utensils, napkins, and three cups of coffee. Here, drink this. She thrust one of the Styrofoam cups in Michael’s hand.

Thanks. He began to sip the hot beverage, not really tasting its strong, bitter flavor. Where did you find these things?

I’m a registered nurse. Most hospitals have a similar layout. I just located the snack bar, Elaine said.

Half an hour later, the young intern came into the waiting room. Mr. Novak, we have stabilized your wife and took some blood for a lab analysis. At first, we thought it was alcohol poisoning. We pumped her stomach, in the hope that whatever she had ingested was still in her stomach. We will need to admit her.

Of course, when will you know what’s wrong with her? Michael asked.

Please come this way to the main desk and fill out the admitting papers.’ The young man took Michael’s arm.

Jason jumped up and followed the doctor and his new boss to the desk. Oh, Dr. Turner, I noticed your nametag. I brought the bottle of wine that Mrs. Novak was drinking.

The young MD flashed a bright but tired smile. Great, good work. This will be a great help in discovering the cause of Mrs. Novak’s collapse. He turned to the orderly. Label this bottle and take it right down to the lab.

***

Michael wandered back to the waiting area and watched the emergency doors open. Another individual, casualty of this New Year’s Eve, was brought in. This time it was a young woman, her long brown hair matted with blood and, like Trish, was unconscious. As he sat down, Elaine and Jason stood. Why don’t you two go back up to the condo? No need to stay around here. I’ll call you tomorrow.

Jason glanced at his wristwatch. It’s nearly midnight. Are you sure you’ll be okay here alone?

I’ll wait until they find a room for her, Michael said. Go where you can get some sleep. Somebody needs to be alert and on top of our situation.

Well, if you’re sure . . .? Okay, talk to you tomorrow. Jason took his wife’s arm and walked out of the double door and into the storm.

Michael sat down wearily and glanced at the box now holding a cold piece of meat and baked potato. He slid it into the trash basket and slumped down again. He dropped his head into his hands, all energy depleted. Weariness and the underlying fear for Trish grabbed at him. It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Two

Once Patricia had been stabilized, the orderly took her gurney to radiology. A radiologist and X-ray technician had been called in. There now were three patients in the large room. Patricia’s gurney was pushed in next to the young woman who had been assaulted by her husband. To her left was the older woman who had been brought in from the ski resort. She’d had a serious accident.

Into the busy emergency area came fourteen middle-school kids, their coaches, and their parent chaperones. There erupted a general chaos acerbated by the moans, cries, and loud bits of conversation from the group.

Michael heard the commotion and walked to the nurses’ station. He watched the two nurses for a long moment and then said, Ms. Faulkner, is there some way I can help?

She gave him a measured look. Oh, I don’t know . . .?

He removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He walked around her and put his jacket over the back of her chair.

She flashed a tiny smile and shrugged. Okay, help me organize these children into groups, first those who are not ambulatory onto gurneys. That way we can deal with the more serious injuries first. She handed him a clipboard with admitting forms on it. Get as much information as you can.

The other nurse was working with the adults. The three of them worked through all those involved in the bus rollover. One young girl with long dark hair reminded Michael of his daughter, Jeanine. For a moment he felt the gut pain of a parent receiving a phone call about his injured child.

Within the hour, everyone who needed to be referred to a physician or just needed transportation home had been checked and their information taken. The intern, Dr. Turner, and the resident in charge, Dr. Morgan, examined all the group’s injuries, and the minor injuries were tended to. Only three of the kids and one adult, the female coach, needed to be admitted.

***

After Patricia’s turn in radiology, she was admitted. A nurse from the women’s medical wing informed Michael that his wife had been moved to room 302 in the critical care unit.

Michael found the bank of elevators and went up to the third floor. As he was about to enter room 302, the nurse stopped him. You must be Mr. Novak. I’m Ms. Birmingham, the duty nurse. Your wife is in critical care, and because of that, you can stay as long as you like, but we are not sure if she has developed a virus or been exposed to a toxin. So for your own safety, wash your hands now and when you leave the room. She smiled and pointed out a bathroom down the hallway.

When he walked into Patricia’s room, he stood stock-still and viewed her still form in the bed. For a long moment, he remained at the end of the bed, gripping the white metal frame. The only sound was from the oxygen shushing into his wife. If not for that, she was so still and pale she could have been dead.

He walked to the side of the bed and picked up her small, cold hand and cradled it in his larger, darker one. Oh, dear God, what has happened to my Trish? he said in a hoarse whisper and gazed at his wife. "I knew something was unusual when you decided to come with me on this ski/business trip. You don’t usually enjoy skiing as much as Jeanine and I do, but you were game for the travel. I know you were avoiding something or someone. You were more nervous than usual and more high-strung.

Please, God, help the doctors and technicians heal my Trish. He made the sign of the cross and dropped into the only chair in the small room. He studied her pale face as she lay so still, like a statue or a mannequin, not a human being. You need to be strong and to return to your old level of energy. We have a daughter to raise, and she needs you to help her choose the correct path to adulthood."

Suddenly Michael felt the impact of the past several hours, and he bowed his head, exhausted and hating not to be able to fix what was wrong with Trish. He then dropped his head on the bed near his wife’s cold hand, and closed his eyes.

***

Early-morning light filtered in through the single tall, narrow window. The early-morning-shift nurse came in to change Patricia’s IV bag. After that chore, she touched Michael on his shoulder. He seemed to startle awake.

Sorry, I must have dozed off.

Ms. Lopez smiled. Mr. Novak, why don’t you go home for a few hours? Later this afternoon, the doctor in charge of your wife’s case will have more information to give to you.

Maybe I will go home and clean up, but you will call me if there are any changes. He glanced down at his wife’s form. He reached for his coat and stumbled out of the room and more slowly moved to the elevator.

***

Once Michael had showered, shaved, and put on fresh clothing, he made a pot of coffee and checked the contents of the refrigerator for something to eat. Patricia usually wasn’t interested in food shopping or preparing it, but he did find an end of wheat bread loaf and two eggs. He could make something edible from those ingredients.

He took his breakfast into his den and booted up his laptop. He began reading and answering e-mails and then switched to the landline to listen to phone messages. His head ached, and he had stiffness in his shoulder from sleeping in an awkward position near Patricia. He went upstairs to search for an over-the-counter remedy for his headache. He knew Patricia stocked the bathroom with first-aid materials and other easily obtainable pills. He found some ibuprofen and took a large one. Returning to his den, he began a short version of his morning routine of push-ups, sit-ups, and other leg exercises. Afterward, he lay on the carpet where a patch of sunshine warmed the rug. To lie there felt good, with the warmth of the sun on his chest. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Sometime later, the jangle of the phone woke him.

Scrambling on his knees, he picked up. Yes?

Jason here, how is Patricia?

Hello, Jason, I meant to get back to you. I must have fallen asleep for a few minutes.

We called the hospital, but all they would tell us is that she had been admitted, Jason said.

"I’m going over there this afternoon. I’ll get an update after I speak with her doctors. Thanks for calling. Go ahead and