Accident - A Novel Part 21

"Like ..., like Dad?"

"No. I don't like him as well. But like a friend, like a very good friend. He's been wonderful to me while Allie's been sick." Andy nodded. He didn't disagree. He just hadn't thought about him that way.

"I like him too ...and I like Bjorn ...but I like Daddy better."

"Your daddy will always be your daddy. Nothing's ever going to change that."

"Are you and Dad going to get divorced?" he asked worriedly. That really would mean it was all over. A lot of his friends' parents had gotten divorced, and some of them had remarried. He knew what that meant.

"I don't know." In the month that he'd been gone, neither of them had called a lawyer. Brad had asked her to, and Stephanie was pushing him, but Page just couldn't bring herself to do it. Trygve had offered her the name of his, but she kept saying she was too busy to call. But she knew that one of these days, she'd have to.

Brad reminded her of it too the next time she saw him at the hospital. He came by one afternoon, he hadn't seen Allie in a week, and when she looked up, Page was suddenly startled to see him.

"Hi, how are you?" she said uncomfortably, trying to pretend she didn't feel awkward.

"Fine." He smiled down at her, looking better than ever. He was an awesome looking man, sometimes she let herself forget that. "How's Al-lie?"

"Not much change. But she's still moving and making little sounds. It's hard to know what it means." But the scans showed movement when Page said her name, she wanted to believe that that meant something too. But who knew? She was still sleeping, and the respirator still kept her breathing.

He stayed for as long as he could. Five minutes was his limit, and then he asked her to come out in the hall of the ICU and talk to him for a minute.

"You're looking good," he said, watching her closely. She looked less tortured than she had, and happier, but there was still something sad in her eyes when he saw her. He wasn't sure if it was because of Allyson, or him, and a part of him still wanted to take her in his arms, and hold her, but he knew he couldn't. Besides, Stephanie would have killed him if she knew. She was ferocious with him, she said she wouldn't put up with any cheating on his part, not even once. She wasn't Page, in a lot of ways, and sometimes Brad really missed her. "Are you okay?"

"Hanging in there." She was happy with Trygve, and hopeful with Allyson, but life wasn't what it had once been, with Allyson still so sick, and a divorce to be gotten through, and it made her sad when she saw him. Her life was reduced to such a small scale now. Hospital and home, and an occasional dinner with Trygve. There were no horizons to look toward anymore, except the constant hope that Allie would come out of her coma.

"I wanted to talk to you, and I haven't had time to phone. I think it's time to call our lawyers." He said it apologetically and he felt like a total b.a.s.t.a.r.d when he saw the look in her eyes. She looked like Andy.

"You're right," she agreed. But she hated to do it. It was the final death knoll to their marriage.

"There's no point hanging on. It's just painful for us, and I think it creates false hope for Andy. I think he'll adjust better if he knows this is it. And maybe we will too, who knows? You have a right to more than this too, you know," he reminded her, and she nodded, not disagreeing with him. She had a right to a family, and Allie whole again, and a husband. She had a right to a lot of things. But whether or not she got them was another story.

"You're sure," she asked quietly. "About the divorce I mean." He nodded, and she inclined her head. She understood. She accepted it. It was over.

He wanted to marry Stephanie, to start a new life with her, and maybe this time, do it better.

"It's time," he said sadly. "Do you have someone to call?"

"I have a name, but I haven't bothered to to call him. I didn't realize you were this anxious." There was an edge to her voice as she said it. And she was suddenly angry that he had come to tell her this here. Everything terrible had happened to her in this hospital ...but good things had too ...there was Trygve ... call him. I didn't realize you were this anxious." There was an edge to her voice as she said it. And she was suddenly angry that he had come to tell her this here. Everything terrible had happened to her in this hospital ...but good things had too ...there was Trygve ...

"We'll be divorced by the end of the year," Brad said soberly, as Page mulled it over in silence. "Probably before Christmas." Stephanie wanted to get married on Christmas Eve, if the divorce came through in time, and it might just, if they hurried.

"I can think of other things I'd rather put on my Christmas list," she said ruefully. And then she looked up at him and took a deep breath. "I'll call the attorney in the morning."

"Thanks. I appreciate it." He hesitated for a moment then, as though he wanted to say more, but wasn't sure how to do it. "I'm sorry, Page ..."

"Yeah, so am I." She touched his hand, and she went back to the ICU again. But Allie didn't stir all day, not even one little moan or rustle. It was as though she knew her mother was depressed, and she was leaving her alone. Page just sat there all day and watched her. And that night, when she put Andy to bed, she didn't even call Trygve. She needed one last moment to mourn for Brad before she moved ahead into the future.

She felt better the next day, and she was anxious to talk to him. Trygve had sensed that something was bothering her, and she told him about her conversation with Brad. As usual, he was sympathetic. He knew how hard it was, and he didn't think it was a reflection on them, it was just very painful terminating a marriage. He gave her the name of the attorney again, and then she called and made an appointment.

And when she saw the lawyer, he told her what Brad had said, that she'd be divorced by Christmas. Trygve picked her up afterward, and they went out to dinner and talked that night. By then, she felt a little better. And as they sat at their favorite table at the Silver Dove, they looked like two beautiful blond Scandinavians. People commented frequently on how much they looked alike, and asked if they were brother and sister. There was something interesting about that, Page had always had a theory that married people looked alike, but she and Brad certainly didn't.

They talked for hours that night, about their lives, and their marriages, and their children ...and their hopes for the future.

"You're the first person I've known who made me want to get married again." And from the look in his eyes, she knew he meant it. It still seemed too soon to both of them, but the accident had changed everything and made time move so much more quickly. Everything was propelled at a great speed as they fought for their survival.

"I think you know when it's right. I think you feel it," he said with quiet a.s.surance. "I knew almost right away in the hospital. I just didn't understand how I could feel something like that. You were married ...and then everything changed. Page, when I look at you, I know I could be happy with you for the rest of my life. And I think you know it too." She didn't deny it. She felt that too, but it was very scary.

"How could I be so wrong before, and so right now? Why would I be smarter now?" she said, looking worried.

"I don't think it has to do with smart. I think it has to do with something you know in your stomach ...your heart ...your gut ...whatever you want to call it. I always knew with Dana it was wrong. I knew it right from the beginning, and so did she. She tried to talk me out of it, but I wouldn't let her."

"It's funny," she thought back, "I tried to do that with Brad too. I didn't feel ready. I was still reverberating from everything that had happened with my family, but he wanted to get married and come to California. I was scared, but I thought it was the right thing to do. Maybe I was just very stupid."

"No, it was right at the time. It wouldn't have lasted as long as it did if it weren't." Her marriage to Brad had never been as rocky as his to Dana. "I don't know how to explain it to you, I just know this is right. And I don't want to waste any more time. I feel like I've wasted half my life with the wrong woman." And then he took a breath and forced himself to slow down. "But I don't want to rush you. However long it takes for you. I'll be here."

"My mother's right for once," she said, smiling at him.

"How's that?"

"She always tells me I'm a very lucky woman."

"I'm the lucky one this time." He smiled. "Now I'll have to learn to be patient." He took a sip of wine, and then grinned at her. "Doesn't Christmas sound good to you? I just think ...Santa Claus ...mistletoe ...sleigh bells ..." He knew her divorce would be final by Christmas.

"You're a lunatic. For all you know, I'm a monster to live with. You don't suppose Brad would have gotten so bored with me if I were fun to live with?"

"He's a fool, thank G.o.d. And I'll tell you one thing, I'd sure like a chance to find out for myself ...without having to run home at four o'clock in the morning ... or tiptoe around the house so Andy doesn't hear us." Clearly, that had its limitations. He wanted to wake up lying next to her, and go to bed with her every night. He still wanted to go away for a weekend with her, but she still didn't feel right leaving Allie. "Just keep Christmas in the back of your head ... see what you think of it, maybe after Tahoe."

"Put it on your Christmas list," she said mischievously, and he laughed.

"HI do that."

CHAPTER 17.

In late June, Page started the mural for the ICU at the hospital. She had offered it to them and they had been thrilled by the suggestion. She was doing two, both in Allie's name. One in the long, depressing hall that led up to the ICU, and the other in the dismal waiting room. She had spent long nights researching it, and she had chosen a countryside in Tuscany, and a port scene in San Remo. The one was peaceful and soothing, the other one amusing with lots of little details and vignettes. It would give people lots to look at and discover while they waited.

She showed Trygve the early sketches and he was very impressed. She thought they would each take her over a month, and then she was going to finish the last one at Ross Grammar School. And after that, in the fall, she was only going to do paid commissions.

"I can't afford not to," she said bluntly. She would only be getting child support from Brad, and a small amount of alimony for two years. His contention was that, with her talent, there was no reason for her not to be earning a living. She was hoping to work things out with her murals and her work for friends, because she didn't want to leave Andy all day long, and she had no idea yet what Allie's needs were, how much time she'd be spending with her, what state she'd be in, or how much she'd need her.

It was becoming obvious now, though, that there was a good chance Allyson would never come out of the coma. She hadn't admitted that to Trygve yet, but he sensed that she was wrestling with the idea, and trying to accept it. She talked about Allie a lot these days, about the happier things she'd done, her accomplishments, her strengths, it was as though she was trying to remind everyone of what she had been, and who, and keep her from being forgotten.

"I don't want her life to have been in vain," she said sadly to him one night. "I want people to remember her for who she was ...not for the accident, or the tragedy, or what she is now. This isn't really Allie."

"I know." They talked about it for hours sometimes, and as always, he was there to help her.

He was happy to see her start the murals at the hospital, and she loved doing them. It kept her nearby, and sometimes she would just pop into the ICU to look at Allie, or kiss her. The bandages were off now, and her hair was growing again. It was short, but it looked sweet. It made her look even more childlike as she lay stiffly on her bed, with her head on the pillow.

"I love you," Page would whisper and then go back to work again, her hair tied up in a knot, with her brushes sticking into it, and an old work-shirt.

But she also started another very special project at the same time. Suddenly she was moving ahead at full steam, and Trygve was relieved to see it. She was returning to the living. She started an art project at Bjorn's new school, and everyone was in love with her, especially the students. She did papiermache with them, and sculpture in clay, pottery, watercolors and drawings. They were so proud of their work, and she was so proud of them. It was the most rewarding thing she'd ever done, she told Trygve one night, as they cooked the kids dinner.

Bjorn was explaining to them what Page was doing at school, and Page beamed at him when he said how much he liked it. She had a warm relationship with him, and now when he went to bed, and she was there, he clung to her and kissed her good night, and asked her to read him a story, just as she did to Andy. She was surprised by his strength sometimes when he squeezed her, or lifted her up, but he was always gentle, and affectionate, and loving.

"He's such a good boy," she said to Trygve after she put him to bed one night, and Trygve was so touched by what she said and did for him, and for Chloe. She worked tirelessly with Chloe, in her therapy when she had time.

"I wish you'd been their mother all along," he said honestly, and she smiled.

"That's what Bjorn said. I'm honored." But it meant a lot to her to be with him now, and share a relationship with him at school. She had the feeling finally that she was doing something important with her art, and even if she wasn't getting paid for it yet, she knew she would be. They had already asked her if she would be open to heading their art program at a later date, and it was something that appealed to her a great deal, and the hours would have worked out perfectly for Andy.

She and Andy spent the Fourth of July weekend with them. She stayed in the guest room, and Andy slept with Bjorn, and Trygve snuck into her room at night, and they giggled like two kids, locking the door so the children didn't catch them.

"We can't do this forever, you know. Sooner or later they'll have to accept what's happening," he said, but neither of them was brave enough to force the issue yet, it was still too soon for Page to sleep in his bedroom openly, and they both knew that. Chloe was particularly possessive of him, and Page didn't want to upset her.

"If Chloe ever catches us, it'll be all over," Page laughed, "she'll shake Allie awake just to tell her what's going on." She smiled at the image, and he kissed her, and they both forgot their children.

They had a family barbecue on the Fourth of July, and they each invited a few friends. Jane Gil-son and her husband were there, the Applegates, and four other couples. It was the first any of them had known of the relationship, or the fact that Brad was gone, the first anyone had seen of Page since the accident. It was not quite three months, but it felt more like three years, and a lot had changed in a short time. But people were happy for them, everyone had always liked Trygve.

He was in charge of the barbecue, and she and the children did the rest, and Trygve let Bjorn shoot off a few firecrackers while he watched, and he kept a watchful eye on Andy.

"They're too dangerous," Page complained, but the boys loved it, and nothing untoward happened. Everyone had a good time, and the last guests left at ten-thirty.

Page and Trygve cleaned up, and they were still putting food away, when Chloe came into the kitchen as fast as she could on her crutches.

"You have to come right away." She looked shaken and pale, and Page didn't understand what could have happened. She thought one of the boys had been hurt, and she was instantly terrified as she hurried after her, and Trygve followed in anxious silence. But neither of them was prepared for what they saw when Chloe stopped in front of the television, and they saw a scene of carnage that had apparently happened that afternoon in La Jolla.

"...wife of Senator John Hutchinson ..." the voice droned on "...in La Jolla earlier today, in a head-on collision ...killed a family of four, one of her own children seriously injured in the accident, although the child, a girl of twelve, is listed in stable condition ...Mrs. Hutchinson was arrested at the scene for felony vehicular manslaughter. Tests showed that she was driving while intoxicated. The Senator was not reached for comment ...Early this evening, a spokesman for the family said that although the early evidence indicates that Mrs. Hutchinson was in fact at fault, it is more than likely that she wasn't ...However," he looked straight into the camera as though he could see Page's heart beating out of her chest as she listened, "Mrs. Hutchinson was involved in a similar accident earlier this year, in San Francisco, in April. A seventeen-year-old boy was killed, and two fifteen-year-old girls were severely injured, in a head-on collision on the Golden Gate Bridge. No blame was a.s.signed in that accident, which occurred only eleven weeks ago. Investigations into this current accident are under way in La Jolla." He went on to a riot in Los Angeles then, as the threesome continued to stand and stare at the television set. Laura Hutchinson had killed a family of four, and been arrested for drunk driving.

"Oh my G.o.d," Page said as she fell into a chair and started crying, "she was was drunk then ...she was drunk ...she must have been, and she almost killed all of you ..." She couldn't stop crying, and Chloe was too, as Trygve turned off the TV, and sat down with them. The Applegates called them only moments later, and Page wished she had the courage to call the Chapmans. But she knew they'd hear about it very quickly. Trygve had been right in his suspicions. drunk then ...she was drunk ...she must have been, and she almost killed all of you ..." She couldn't stop crying, and Chloe was too, as Trygve turned off the TV, and sat down with them. The Applegates called them only moments later, and Page wished she had the courage to call the Chapmans. But she knew they'd hear about it very quickly. Trygve had been right in his suspicions.

He turned the TV on again, and flipped the dial, and they saw a similar report on another channel. The news was worse this time. She had killed a twenty-eight-year-old woman, and her thirty-two-year-old husband, their two-year-old little girl, and five-year-old boy, and the woman was eight months pregnant. Five people, not four. And her own daughter had broken an arm, had fifteen st.i.tches in her left cheek, and had a mild concussion. There was film of ambulances, fire trucks, other cars that had been forced off the road. Six or seven other cars had been involved in lesser ways, but no one else had been seriously injured. It made Page feel sick as she listened.

"My G.o.d." She didn't know what else to say, but it vindicated Phillip Chapman. She wondered how his parents would feel when they heard it. "Will she go to jail?" She looked at Trygve.

"Probably. I don't think the Senator is going to be able to get her out of this one." He was well known, but controversial, kind of a movie star senator in a way, and having a wife with a serious drinking problem wouldn't have helped him. They had apparently kept it very quiet. But they hadn't kept her out from behind the wheel. And they should have. "She's just killed five people, that's a lot to overlook. I don't think they will. She'll have to stand trial for this." The charge was four counts of felony vehicular manslaughter, since they couldn't bring charges for the murder of the fetus. Efforts had been made to save it with an emergency cesarean, but the baby had died anyway from the impact, and its mother's sudden death. It had been too late to save it.

"She's killed six people," Page said quietly, counting Phillip. Seven if Allie died, and she still could. But Page couldn't bear to think it. "How could she come to Phillip's funeral? How could she do that?"

"It was a smart thing to do. It made her look sympathetic," Trygve explained wisely.

"What a terrible thing to do," Page said, looking shaken. And she lay in bed and cried in his arms that night, it was as though they finally knew who had killed, or almost killed, their children. It didn't change anything, but it made it all so much more real. You knew who was to blame, and what she had done. There was no question in their minds that Laura Hutchinson had been drunk that night on the Golden Gate Bridge when she and Phillip Chapman had collided.

Trygve carefully checked the newspapers the next day, and he turned the news on over breakfast. Page watched somberly with him as the Senator made a statement to the press about how terrible he felt, and how devastated his wife was. They were paying for the funerals, of course, and a full investigation, and full disclosure would be made. He had some serious questions about his wife's car. He believed that the steering column and the brakes had been defective. Page wanted to scream as she listened. They showed him then with his injured child. She looked glazed and nervous as she clutched his hand and tried to smile. Laura Hutchinson herself was nowhere to be seen. They said she was in shock and under sedation. Page said she probably had the DT's and was drying out somewhere.

And when they opened the door to go to the hospital, they ran straight into the arms of a cameraman and four reporters. They wanted a photograph of Chloe in her wheelchair, or on her crutches, and they wanted to know how Trygve felt about Laura Hutchinson's accident in La Jolla.

"Terrible, of course. It's a shocking thing," he said somberly, trying to avoid them. He had refused to let them photograph Chloe. But as he and Page slid into his car, she suddenly realized there would probably be reporters at the hospital too. And she ran to the ICU as soon as she got there. She didn't want anyone photographing Allie the way she was, or turning her into a ghoulish spectacle, or an object of pity. This was not the Allyson Clarke that anyone had ever known, and they had no right to use her to arouse public outrage. No matter how guilty Laura Hutchinson was, Page was not going to let them use Allie as an object to torment her.

Half a dozen reporters and photographers were cl.u.s.tered in the hall outside the ICU and they tried to stop her when they realized who she was, and ask her endless questions.

"How do you feel now that you know Laura Hutchinson was probably responsible for your daughter's accident, Mrs. Clarke? ...how is she now? ...Will she ever come out of the coma?" They had tried to talk to the doctor too, but of course he wouldn't talk to them, nor would the nurses in the ICU, despite all their pleas and cajoling. They had even tried to bribe one of them to let them in for a quick photograph, but unfortunately for them, the person they had chosen to bribe was Frances. She had threatened to have them thrown out of the hospital, and get a court order against them. And she came out to rescue Page now, while Trygve tried to get them to leave her alone. Page insisted that she had no comment.

"But aren't you angry, Mrs. Clarke? Doesn't it make you furious that she did this to your daughter?" They tried to provoke her.

"It makes me very sad," Page said in a dignified voice as she walked past them, "for all of us, all those who have lost loved ones, or suffered the agony of this accident. And my heart goes out to the relatives of the family in La Jolla." She said not another word, and walked into the ICU with Trygve, feeling as though they just climbed through a tornado. The nurses closed the doors to the ICU that day, and drew the shades, so no one could get photographs of Page or Allie.

Trygve called his investigative reporter friend later that day, and was amazed by what he told him. Laura Hutchinson had had four stays recently in a well known dry-out clinic in L.A., all in the past three years, and apparently none of her stays had been successful. She had gone there under another name, but a source at the clinic itself confirmed that she had been there. In addition the DMV records showed that she had been involved in at least half a dozen small accidents, and one larger one in Martha's Vineyard, where she spent the summers. There had been no fatalities in any of them, except the one on the Golden Gate Bridge, but there had been minor injuries, and in one of them Mrs. Hutchinson herself sustained a concussion. They had all been carefully hushed up, of course, and wherever possible, the records had been sealed. But somehow, Trygve's friend had gotten around that. He said there might have been bribes to close the records on her, and some political favors called. But her husband's lawyers and PR people had done a brilliant job at hiding Laura Hutchinson's record.

It was horrifying to realize that in this year alone, she had injured her own child, and she had killed six people, nearly crippled one, and left another in a coma. It was quite a record.

And by the end of the day, the public outcry over it was enormous. Mothers Against Drunk Driving had given interviews, and made public statements, and the Chapmans had given an interview talking about the young life that Laura Hutchinson had taken, and the reputation she had sullied. Meanwhile, spokesmen for the Senator were continuing to say that her brakes had failed and the steering column had gone out, but they were going to have a tough time selling that one. And through it all, Laura Hutchinson herself was "unavailable for comment."

By the following week, Oprah Oprah and and Donahue Donahue had interviewed families who had lost children and husbands and wives in similar accidents, and the news showed Laura Hutchinson running into the courthouse in dark gla.s.ses, to be arraigned for felony vehicular manslaughter. The maximum possible jail sentence she faced was forty years, which Page felt didn't even begin to touch what she owed them. had interviewed families who had lost children and husbands and wives in similar accidents, and the news showed Laura Hutchinson running into the courthouse in dark gla.s.ses, to be arraigned for felony vehicular manslaughter. The maximum possible jail sentence she faced was forty years, which Page felt didn't even begin to touch what she owed them.

Every time Page saw Allie that week all she could think of was Laura Hutchinson and the young woman who had died with her unborn baby in her belly.

By midweek, the press had started to go wild with the story. They continued to interview the Chapmans about how they felt about their son, and to hound the Applegates, Page, Brad, and Trygve. The news camera continued to show up at the ICU, and the producer of the show tried to get her to agree to having Allyson shown on TV in her coma.

"Don't you want other mothers to see what happened to you? They have a right to get people like Laura Hutchinson off the road," a very aggressive young woman explained, "and you have an obligation to help them."

"Seeing Allyson won't change anything." All she wanted was to protect her.

"Will you talk to us at least?" She thought about it at length, and then finally agreed to a brief interview in the hallway, if only to support the case against Laura Hutchinson in La Jolla. She explained what had happened to Allyson three months before, the physical results of the accident, and her current condition. It was fairly straightforward, and for a fraction of a moment, she was glad she'd done it.

Then the same aggressive young woman asked her if her life had been affected in any other way by the accident. Had there been any other complications? And as she asked her that, Page realized that someone must have told her that she and her husband were separated. But she wasn't about to become an object of pity on TV, and she evaded the question.

"Do you have any other children, Mrs. Clarke?"

"I do," she said quietly, "a son, Andrew."

"And how has this affected him?"

"It's been hard on all of us," she said candidly, as the reporter nodded.

"Isn't it true he ran away several weeks after the accident? Would you say that was a direct result of all this trauma?" They had checked the police records and Page was angry at the invasion of their lives. These people were using them to make a point. Trygve had been right not to talk to them in the first place.

"I'd say it's been difficult for all of us, but we're coping." She smiled pleasantly, and then thought about why she had agreed to do the interview. "I'd just like to say that I think that anyone responsible for this kind of tragedy must answer for it, to the fullest extent of the law ...not that that changes anything for us now," she said as they ended the interview. But if they had been honest in dealing with Laura Hutchinson's drinking problem years before, maybe she wouldn't have been on the road, behind the wheel that fateful night in April.

Page was unhappy when she saw the interview on TV, they edited it so it made her look as though she had said things she hadn't. And they made her seem pathetic. But maybe if people knew what Laura Hutchinson had done to all of them, maybe she'd be fairly punished in La Jolla. This accident would not be admissible evidence because she hadn't been tested for alcohol at the time. But it established a pattern of what she'd done. It was the only reason Page had talked to them, but she was sorry she'd done it.

None of it changed anything for Allyson, but Page felt better knowing that the woman who had done it would be brought to justice. The trial was set for the first week in September.