Accident - A Novel Part 9

"About as bad as you'd expect. There were four hundred sobbing kids, and half as many parents."

"Just what you need right now. Did Brad go with you?"

Page shook her head. "Trygve Th.o.r.ensen took me. We saw the Senator's wife, looking appropriately grief-stricken and very proper. Frankly, I thought it took a lot of guts for her to be there. Trygve thought she did it for PR, and was playing to the reporters, to make sure everyone knows how innocent she is."

"Is she?" Jane asked honestly.

"I'm beginning to think we'll never know. Probably no one was at fault, it was just a lot of bad luck and bad timing."

"I'll say ...there were reporters there?"

"TV cameras, and some photographers from the newspapers. I guess it's big stuff because of Mrs. Hutchinson, and it tears your heart out seeing those kids." Not to mention the parents.

"The piece in the paper I read yesterday seemed to imply, more or less, that it was the Chapman boy's fault. Is that just talk, or is it real? Was he really drinking?"

"Apparently not enough to matter. And I hear Mr. Chapman is planning to sue the paper to clear Phillip's name. As I said, there's no evidence either way to prove whose fault it might have been. Neither his, nor Mrs. Hutchinson's, but he's a kid, and he had half a gla.s.s of wine ...and two cups of coffee." She and Trygve had talked it to death, and the story still stayed the same. It was an accident. It was no one's fault apparently. And she didn't blame the Chapmans for wanting to clear their son's name. He was a great kid, and he deserved to die with his fine reputation, if only for their sakes.

By then Andy had spotted her and he came running to meet her. He was wearing his baseball uniform and he looked so cute, she almost cried when she saw him. He looked so normal and healthy, it reminded her of only days before when she had taken him to his game, and everything seemed so simple. Allie wasn't in a coma then, and Brad hadn't confessed that he was cheating.

"And how was your day, Mr. Andrew Clarke?" she asked, beaming at him as he threw his arms around her.

"Great. I scored a home run!" He was pleased with himself, and she was happy to see him.

"You're terrific."

He was thrilled to see her too, and then he looked up at her worriedly. "Are you going back to the hospital now? Am I staying here?"

"No, you're coming home with me." She had decided to take a night off, for his sake. She knew how badly he needed it, and she wanted to be there for him. And as long as Allie's condition didn't change, she felt she could do it. She had decided to make dinner for him, more than just frozen pizza, and she wanted to sit down and talk to him, so he didn't feel so neglected.

"Can Dad do a barbecue?" She didn't know if Brad was coming home or staying out again, and she didn't want to promise anything, so she told him he couldn't. "Okay. We'll just have regular dinner then." He seemed delighted at the prospect, and they went home a few minutes later.

She made hamburgers and baked potatoes for him, and a big green salad with avocados and tomatoes in it, and she was surprised when she heard Brad come in just as they were sitting down to dinner. She hadn't really expected him, but she had made enough to feed him too, just in case he did come home.

"Dad!" Andy shouted excitedly, and Page could see in his little face how desperately he needed contact with them. He was deeply worried.

"What a surprise!" Page said, not quite under her breath, and Brad shot her a dark look.

"Let's not start that, Page," he said irritably. He had had a long day too, and he had made a point of coming home for dinner, for his son's sake. "Have you got enough?" he asked curtly, glancing at the table set for two, and the dinner she was serving Andy.

"No problem," she said, and served him a full plate a moment later. Andy was telling his father about the game, and his home run in the fourth inning. He rattled on about his friends at school. He was like a little sponge soaking up whatever moments they had for him, whatever time they could spare from his desperately injured sister. Watching him made Page aware again of how frightened he was, and how much he needed them right now. In his own way, he was as scared as she was. And in some ways it was worse for him because he hadn't seen his sister.

"Can I go to the hospital to see Allie this weekend?" he asked as he finished his baked potato. Page was pleased to see that he had eaten well, and he looked more relaxed than he had at the beginning of dinner. But she still didn't think he was ready to see his sister. Her condition was too frightening, the danger still too acute. And if she died, Page didn't want him to have that as his last memory of Allie.

"I don't think so, sweetheart. We ned to wait until she feels a little better." She also knew that you had to be at least eleven to visit the ICU, but their doctor had already told her he'd make an exception for Andy.

"But what if she doesn't feel better for a long time? I need to see her." He started to whine, and Page glanced at Brad, but he wasn't paying attention. He was flipping through the paper with a deep frown and an unhappy expression. Stephanie had been furious when he told her he couldn't have dinner with her. He was almost used to it now. Someone was always angry at him.

"We'll see," Page said about Andy's visit, as they cleared the table. She served them both ice cream with chocolate sauce for dessert, and made herself another cup of coffee. Neither of them had noticed it, but she had hardly eaten. And after a few minutes, she glanced over at Brad. "Brad ...why don't you read that after dinner?" She hated it when he read during meals, and he knew it.

"Why? Did you have something to say to me?" he snapped, and she bristled, as Andy watched with a frightened look. He had never seen them fight that way before, and for the past few days they had done nothing but, and he was worried.

After dinner, Brad went to his desk to look for something. And Andy went to his room, looking forlorn, followed by Lizzie.

Page cleaned up the kitchen, cleared the table, set it for breakfast, and then listened to her messages. There were at least a dozen more, inquiring about Allie. And several of the young people at the funeral had asked when they could see her. Mercifully, the hospital was turning everyone away, and whatever flowers came for her were being sent to the children's ward, because there were none allowed in ICU. Page was glad she didn't have to see any of Allie's friends. She knew she couldn't have coped with their fears too. And the last call on the machine was from a reporter who said he wanted to ask her some questions. She didn't even bother to write his name down when she jotted down the others.

She called a few of the young people back who had left messages on the machine, but as always it was exhausting trying to explain it all to them, or telling the story again and again to their mothers. She had thought about putting a special recording on her message machine, telling everyone how Allie was, but the news was still so frightening, and the hope so slim, that Page couldn't bring herself to do it.

She went in to check on Andy finally, and she found him sitting on his bed, crying and talking to Lizzie. He was explaining to the dog about Allie's accident, and that she was gonna be okay, but she was still asleep, her eyes were bandaged, and her head was pretty swollen. It was a summary of sorts, though not entirely accurate, but it was close enough, and Lizzie wagged her tail as she listened.

"How's it going, sweetheart?" Page asked tiredly as she sat down next to him on the bed. She was grateful for the time at home with him, but it was also obvious how upset he was, and how little she could do to relieve it. She was happy that she had decided to spend the night at home with him. He really needed both of them, it was a good thing Brad had come home too, although he certainly wasn't being pleasant.

"How come you and Daddy fight all the time now?" he asked unhappily. "You never used to do that."

"We're upset ...about Allie ...sometimes when grown-ups are sad or scared, they don't know how to show it, so they crab at each other, or they yell. I'm sorry, sweetheart. We don't mean to upset you." She stroked his head as she tried to rea.s.sure him.

"You sound so mean when you talk to him." How could she explain to him that his father was cheating on her, and their whole marriage had gone out the window. She couldn't, and she wouldn't. "It's hard being at the hospital with Allie."

"How come, if she's just sleeping?" None of this made any sense to him. It was all so difficult, and so complicated, and the grown-ups he loved were acting so strangely.

"I worry about her a lot. Just like I worry about you." She smiled, and his brows knit again.

"And Daddy? Do you worry about him too?"

"Of course I do. I worry about all of you. That's my job." She smiled at him, and a few minutes later she ran the tub for him. And after his bath, she read him a story. He went to say good night to Brad, but he was on the phone, talking to someone, and he waved him away brusquely. Brad's nerves seemed to be on edge, not only with Page, but with Andy. Coming home for dinner hadn't been easy for him, and he wasn't entirely glad he'd done it. And he knew there'd be h.e.l.l to pay with Stephanie when he saw her. Now that things were out in the open with Page, Stephanie was less willing to be patient.

Page put Andy to bed, and tucked him in, and he asked her to leave the light on in the hall, which he seldom did. Only when he was really frightened of something, or very sick, but they were all a little of both at the moment.

"Okay, sweetheart. I'll see you in the morning." She kissed him again, and was grateful for him, as she walked back to the kitchen to put away the dishes.

She caught a glimpse of Brad sitting in the living room, but she didn't speak to him. There seemed to be nothing left to say anymore. And she had guessed correctly that he was talking to Stephanie on the phone when he'd been interrupted by Andy.

She emptied the dishwasher, finished cleaning up, returned a few more calls, and made herself another cup of coffee.

It was ten o'clock when Brad wandered in looking anxious and unhappy. It had been another difficult day for both of them, with their earlier exchange, the Chapman funeral, and dinner together had been far from easy. She was going through the mail, which she hadn't seen in two days, and looked up to see him.

"I guess things aren't going too well," Brad said unhappily, as she glanced at him. He was wearing jeans and a T-s.h.i.+rt, and for an instant Page remembered all the feelings she'd had for him for so many years, and wondered if through it all, he had really been a stranger. They had had two kids and shared sixteen years, and suddenly he had turned out to be someone completely different from the man she thought she lived with.

"You might say that," she said sadly, as she poured a last cup of coffee. Her nerves were so on edge anyway, the caffeine no longer seemed to make much difference. "I think Andy is becoming aware of it." Who wasn't? The air between them was palpable with grief and anger and disappointment.

"It's been a rough week."

"Yeah. A doubleheader."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Brad asked with a puzzled expression.

"Allie, and our marriage."

"Maybe it's all part of the same thing. Maybe once she's okay again, we'll be able to work things out." It seemed odd to hear him say that, particularly since he'd been adamant about not giving up Stephanie. She wondered what he was saying. Was there hope for them? Had he changed his mind? Had something happened? She couldn't figure him out anymore, and wasn't sure she cared to.

"Maybe we could still work it out," he said again, but he didn't sound convincing as he said it. "If we want to."

"Us and Stephanie? Is that what you have in mind, Brad?" She said it bitterly, sounding exhausted. "Let's not start this again, or tease each other with false hope. Let's just get Allie back to life again, and then we can turn our attention to this. But right now, to be honest, I just don't have the stomach for it."

He nodded. He couldn't disagree with her. And suddenly, Stephanie was pressuring him. It was almost as though she felt upstaged by Allyson and she was suddenly making demands he'd never before had to contend with. She wanted to spend more time with him, to be with him constantly, to have him spend the night when she knew he shouldn't. It was as though she was trying to prove something, as though she was trying to say that he belonged to her and not Page now. But the pressure on him, from both of them, was driving him crazy.

But before he could say anything to Page in answer to what she'd said to him, they heard a terrifying scream from Andy's bedroom. They ran to him as fast as they could, and Brad got there first. Andy was hysterical and still half asleep. He had had a terrible nightmare.

"It's all right ...it's all right, champ ...you're okay ... it was just a bad dream ..." But neither of them could calm him. He had dreamed they'd all had an accident, and everyone had been killed except him and Lizzie. There was blood everywhere, he said, and broken gla.s.s ...and they had had the accident because his Mom and Dad were fighting. Brad and Page looked guiltily at each other over his head, and eventually he settled down again, although Page discovered he had wet his bed, and she had to change it. He hadn't done that since he was four, and it worried her even more. He was deeply disturbed even at an unconscious level.

"I guess you don't need a shrink to figure that one out," Brad said softly as they went to their bedroom.

"He's been very upset about Allie. It's very frightening for him. He hears us talk about how serious it is, and he still hasn't seen her. For all he knows, she's already dead."

"That's not all that's bothering him, and you know it," Brad said.

"I know," she admitted quietly. "We have to be more careful." It was obvious that he had heard them fighting.

"I hate to say this," he looked at her unhappily, "but maybe I should move out for a few days, or until we're all a little calmer and can handle what's happening." Page was shocked by the suggestion.

"Would you move in with her?" They both knew who she meant, but Brad didn't answer.

"I can stay at a hotel, or rent a furnished place in the city at 2000 Broadway." But Page also realized that it was the perfect opportunity for him to be with Stephanie, and not have to deal with his wife's reproaches and accusations. Given the circ.u.mstances, she wasn't even sure she blamed him, though it would certainly be difficult to explain to Andy.

"I don't know what to say," Page said, looking at him, saddened by his suggestion. They had come a long way in a short time, to a place she had never dreamed they would get to. But as she looked at him pensively, the phone interrupted them, and she grabbed for it instantly in case it was about Allie. It was in fact the hospital. Allie's brain was swelling more, and the pressure was becoming too dangerous for her now. If there was no improvement, they wanted to operate in the morning. And they wanted her or Brad to sign the papers again in case they had to. They felt comfortable waiting through the night, unless something changed, but in all likelihood they felt she'd need surgery the following morning. It was her second brain surgery in four days, but Dr. Hammerman said there was no choice. Just like the first time they had operated, if they didn't, she wouldn't make it.

"They want to operate again?" Brad looked at her grimly and Page nodded. "And then what? Again and again ... for chrissake, how often?"

"Maybe as often as they have to ...until she gets well again ...until her brain goes back to normal."

"And if it doesn't?" He repeated his earlier concerns but Page didn't want to hear it. For her it didn't change anything.

"If it doesn't, she's still our daughter. I'm going to sign the papers, Brad. She has a right to everything they can do for her." She would have fought him to the death if he tried to stop her, but in spite of what was happening to them, he was a reasonable man, and he wanted what was best for Allie. Page looked at him angrily, but the fight went out of him as he watched her.

"Do whatever you have to, Page." He went to their bedroom then, and lay down on the bed, thinking about Allyson, and how wonderful she had been. It was almost hard to remember now, looking at the creature she'd become, lying in the hospital, broken almost beyond recognition. "Are you sleeping there tonight?" he asked, as Page walked in, and took her nightgown out of her closet. But she shook her head and looked at him.

"I thought I'd sleep with Andy."

"You can sleep here." He smiled hesitantly. "I'll behave myself. I still can, you know." They exchanged a rare smile. But they had come to a sad crossroads in their life when it became an issue of who would sleep where, and whether or not he would move out. She felt, once again, as though she were living in a nightmare.

She lay in the narrow bed holding Andy for a long time that night, and the tears seemed to flow endlessly until her ears filled with them and the back of her throat, and her pillow was drenched. She had so much to mourn, so much she had taken for granted, and it was all gone now.

Andy was surprised in the morning when he found his mother sleeping with him, but he didn't question it. He got up and got dressed, and she made breakfast for all three of them. He never mentioned his nightmare again, but he was quiet when she dropped him off at school. Brad had said he would meet her at the hospital later that morning. She had to be there by eight-fifteen to sign the papers. They wanted to operate on her by ten, and this time Brad had promised that he'd be there.

CHAPTER 8.

Page met the chief neurosurgeon outside ICU. There had been no improvement since the night before, so she signed the papers, and then went in to see her daughter. Allyson was still deeply comatose, all of the machines and monitors were on, but Page still managed to have a quiet moment with her. At that hour, there were no other visitors in ICU, and the nurses left them alone. They could monitor Allyson from the desk, where they could keep an eye on her monitors through their own screens and computers. Page sat quietly next to her, holding her hand and talking to her, touching her cheek from time to time, and she kissed her gently when they took her away at nine-thirty.

It was a long, lonely wait then, knowing that she was being prepared for surgery, and that if the operation was not successful, she clearly wouldn't make it. The pressure on her brain would cause extensive damage eventually, and the fractures and wounds could not heal with the ongoing trauma of the pressure.

Dr. Hammerman had told her that the operation would take eight to ten hours, and would once again be performed by the same team. It was almost routine, but in truth, it wasn't. It was terribly frightening. She had to fight to let herself think of the outcome. She couldn't allow herself to think of what might happen in the operating room, or if they came to tell her Allyson had died. She just couldn't bear it.

She looked anxious and pale when Brad finally arrived. He was half an hour later than he had said, but he had come, just as he'd promised.

"Did they say anything?" he asked anxiously.

"Nothing new," she said softly. And then, "She looked so sweet just lying there, before they took her. I keep wanting to wake her up, but she doesn't." Her eyes filled with tears, and she turned away from him. She no longer wanted to burden him with her feelings. She had lost her trust in him, and the openness they had always shared. It was as though he were someone else now. It was strange how you could lose someone so easily, how everything could change in a matter of moments. But she tried not to let herself think of that either, as they waited.

It was a long day, as they waited in the ICU waiting room, on uncomfortable chairs, amidst a constantly changing group of strangers. She and Brad said very little to each other all day. He was very quiet, and unusually patient with her, almost as though he felt obliged to be polite to her. They reminisced once or twice about Allie a little, but it was just too painful. Most of the time, they sat quietly, lost in their own thoughts, saying nothing to each other.

They finally went to get sandwiches in the cafeteria at four in the afternoon, and there was still no news. They told the nurse where they were going, and they ran into Trygve in the lobby. He wished them luck, and then went upstairs to see Chloe, and they didn't see him again after that. The Clarkes stayed to themselves in the small airless waiting room, watching the clock, and waiting to hear from the surgeon.

He finally came in at six-fifteen, and by then they both looked like they were ready to collapse from the endless tension. It had been yet another day filled with terror for them.

"How is she?" Brad leapt to his feet and met the doctor's eyes head-on, but the doctor nodded in satisfaction.

"She did better than we expected."

"What does that mean?" Brad challenged him instantly, as Page sat tensely and listened. She thought that if she stood up, she might swoon, so she didn't move, she just sat there.

"It means that she survived, her vital signs are good. She gave us a little scare early on, but she rallied. We relieved as much pressure as we could. It was somewhat worse than we had suspected. But there's still every reason to believe she could make a full recovery, or close to it. We just have to wait and see how she does now, and of course how long she remains in the coma. Actually, we want her pretty subdued now, and she's being medicated accordingly. She needs that to allow her brain to repair, but in a few weeks we'll need to reevaluate her position."

"A few weeks?" Brad looked horrified. "You expect her to stay in a coma for a few weeks?"

"It's possible ...and not unlikely. In fact, longer than that wouldn't rule out a successful result, Mr. Clarke. This kind of injury requires a lot of patience." Brad rolled his eyes and the surgeon smiled, and then looked down at Page. "She did fine, Mrs. Clarke," he said gently, "she's not out of danger yet, by any means, but we're one step further, one more day, she survived one more enormous trauma. It's an encouraging sign. Of course we still have to wait to see the extent of her recovery, what lasting impact the trauma may have had, if any. But we're still a long way from there." They still had to wait and see if she even survived it. She could still die very easily, and they all understood that. "She'll be in the recovery room overnight again. You may want to go home. We can call you there if there's any problem."

"Do you expect there to be?" Page asked in a choked voice, and the surgeon hesitated for an instant before he answered.

"No, but we have to be realistic. This is her second major surgery in four days, she's withstood a great deal of trauma, both in surgery and from the accident. This adds further jeopardy to her status, until she stabilizes of course. She's doing well, but we're watching her very closely."

"More so than after the last operation?" Page asked, and he nodded.

"She's weaker than she was. But we're hopeful about the outcome."

"Hopeful." Page had come to hate the word, and she had understood what he was saying. Allie was doing well, but the operation might have been too much for her. She could still die at any moment.

He left them after a few minutes and Brad sighed and sat down, and looked at her. They were like two people who had almost drowned and were lying breathless on the beach after the terror of it.

"It knocks the s.h.i.+t out of you, doesn't it? I feel like I climbed Everest today, and all I did was sit here," Brad said miserably.

"I'd rather be climbing Everest," Page said sadly, and he smiled at her.

"So would I. But she did okay. That's all we can ask for right now." He thought of all the things he had said about not wanting her to survive if she was going to be seriously brain damaged, and suddenly he knew he didn't care. He just wanted her to live ...just for another hour ...another day ...and maybe in the end, they'd get lucky. "Do you want to come home?" he asked, but Page shook her head.