Accident - A Novel Part 6

CHAPTER 6.

Page spent Sunday night at the hospital, curled up in a chair in the waiting room. But she didn't even notice how uncomfortable the chair was. She scarcely slept, worrying about Allie. The noises of the hospital kept her awake, the smells, and the fear that at any moment her daughter might slip away. It was a relief when, finally, at six the next morning, they let her see her.

A pretty young nurse took Page to the recovery room, and spoke pleasantly to her on the way there, about what a beautiful girl Allie was, and what lovely hair she had had. Page listened with one ear, and found her mind wandering as they walked the endless halls. She was too distracted to really listen. But she was grateful for the nurse's attempts to be comforting. She couldn't imagine how they could even glimpse Allyson's beauty now. She was so battered, there were even bandages on her eyes from the repairs they had had to do there.

Several sets of electric doors opened on the way, and Page tried to force herself back to reality. For a minute, she had been thinking about Brad and all he had told her. But she knew that seeing Allyson would require her full attention. But what she saw when she approached the gurney Allyson was lying on was far from encouraging.

If anything, she looked worse than she had before surgery. The bandage on her head looked frightening, her head had been shaved, her face was deathly pale, and she seemed to be surrounded by monitors and machines. She seemed a million miles away, in her coma.

The operating room nurse had saved a long silky blond lock of hair for Page, and the recovery room nurse handed it to her as soon as she saw her. It brought tears to Page's eyes again, as she clutched the lock of hair in one hand, and gently touched Allyson with the other.

Page stood quietly next to her for a long time, gently touching her hand, and thinking of how life had been only two days before. How was it possible that everything had gone so wrong so quickly? It made you no longer trust anyone or anything, surely not the fates, or destiny. How cruel they had been ... as had Brad. ... As Page thought of it, she almost couldn't bear the pain of losing Allie. It reminded her of how she had felt years before when Andy was born, and they had thought they might lose him. She had spent hours staring at him, willing him to live, his tiny body filled with tubes, struggling in the incubator. And miraculously, he had made it.

Page sat down next to her, on a small stool, and spoke softly into the bandaged ears, praying that she would hear her. "I won't let you go, sweetheart ... I won't ... we need need you ... I love you too much ...you have to be a brave girl and fight now ...baby, you have to! ... I love you, sweetheart ... no matter what, you'll always be my baby." Allie smelled of medical things, and the machines beeped now and then, but there was no sound, no move, no gesture of recognition, as Page knew there couldn't have been, but she needed to talk to her, to feel her near her. you ... I love you too much ...you have to be a brave girl and fight now ...baby, you have to! ... I love you, sweetheart ... no matter what, you'll always be my baby." Allie smelled of medical things, and the machines beeped now and then, but there was no sound, no move, no gesture of recognition, as Page knew there couldn't have been, but she needed to talk to her, to feel her near her.

The nurses let her stay with Allyson for a long time, and then finally, when the shift changed at seven o'clock, they suggested she go to the cafeteria and get some coffee. She went to the waiting room instead, and sat there dazed, thinking of Allie as she had been, and as she was now. She didn't even hear anyone come in, until someone touched her arm, and she looked up and saw Trygve. He was clean, and shaven, and he was wearing a crisp white shirt and jeans, his thick blond hair was neat, and he seemed rested and healthy. But as he looked at her, he seemed worried. It was Monday morning, the weekend had taken a brutal toll on her.

"Have you been here all night again?"

She nodded. She looked terrible, even worse than she had the day before. But he understood only too well how desperately she wanted to be with Allie.

"I slept in the waiting room." She tried to smile at him, but she looked wretched.

"Did you sleep?" he asked, sounding like a stern father.

"A little." She smiled at him. "Enough. They let me see Allie this morning, in the recovery room."

"How was she?"

"About the same, I guess. But it was nice just being with her." At least she was still there with them, at least Page could still reach out and touch her. She couldn't bear the thought of it, and all she wanted now was to be back in the recovery room with her again, telling her how much she loved her. "How's Chloe?"

"Asleep. I just checked on her. They're keeping her pretty blitzed, so she's not aware of the pain, and I think that's probably the best thing for her."

She nodded at him, as he sat down next to her. "Are the boys okay?"

"More or less. Bjorn was pretty shook up when he saw her. I asked his doctor about it before he came, and he thought it was important for him. He doesn't really understand things sometimes unless he sees them. But it was hard for him. He cried a lot last night, and he had nightmares."

"Poor kid." She was sad for him. How difficult life was sometimes. How unfair. It was so hard to understand it.

"How's Andy?"

"Scared. Brad was telling him Allie's going to be fine, and I was less rea.s.suring. I don't think it's fair to mislead him."

"I agree. But Brad's probably having trouble coping with it himself. Denial is easier sometimes."

"Yeah. Maybe," she said, sounding as disenchanted and disillusioned as she felt.

"This is a dumb question," he said, "but are you okay? I mean ...considering what's happening. You look beat."

"I am. I'll get used to it, I guess ...eventually ... or something."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"I don't know ...last night ...yesterday ... I made Andy pizza for dinner last night and took a bite ...something like that."

"You can't do that, Page. You have to keep your strength up. Your getting sick isn't going to help anyone. Come on." He looked down at her sternly as he stood up. "Get up. I'm taking you to breakfast."

She was touched, but the last thing she wanted just then was food. All she wanted was to curl up in a ball and forget the world, or maybe just die, if Allie did. She felt as though she were already in mourning. She was in mourning for what Allie had been, and might never be again ...for what she had had with Brad, and would never have again. She was in mourning for a lot of things. Herself. Her child. Her marriage. And a life that would be different now. Forever.

"Thanks, Trygve. But I don't think I could eat just now."

"You'll have to try," he said quietly but firmly. "I'm not leaving here until you come and eat. Otherwise, I'll call the doctor, and they can feed you intravenously, if you like that better. Come on," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling, "get off your a.s.s and come to breakfast."

"Okay, okay. I'll come," she said reluctantly, and smiled as she followed him down the hall to the cafeteria, which smelled really awful.

"I'm not sure this is the best idea," he said apologetically, "but it's all we've got, so this is it." He handed her a tray and prodded her into taking oatmeal, scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, jelly, and a cup of coffee.

"If you think I'm going to eat all that, you're crazy."

"If you eat even half of it, you'll be in much better shape. I learned that as a kid when we lived in Norway. You can't starve yourself in cold weather ... or stressful times. Sometimes I went for days without wanting to eat when Dana and I split up, but I forced myself. And I always felt better for it."

"It seems so redundant somehow. Eating in the midst of disaster."

"Things look worse when you don't eat, or sleep. You're going to have to take care of yourself, Page. Why don't you go home today and sleep for a few hours? Brad can sit here while you go home."

"I think he probably wants to go to the office. But maybe I'll take a break and pick Andy up at school. This is going to be hard for him. I haven't even thought about who's going to pick him up, drop him off, take him to baseball."

"I can do some of it for you. Nick'll be back in college after vacation ends in a few days, Bjorn's in school all day, and Chloe'U be okay here. Whenever you get stuck, just let me know, and I'll take Andy wherever he needs to go." He smiled at her, he had always liked her.

"That's really nice of you."

"It's no big deal. I've got the time. I do most of my work at night anyway. I can never get any writing done in the daytime."

They chatted for a little while, while she fought with the oatmeal and wrestled with the eggs, and finally managed to eat a little breakfast. He did everything he could to distract her, talking about his writing, his Norwegian relatives, and asking her about her painting. He told her how much he liked the mural at school, and she thanked him. She really appreciated his support, and the fact that he was there made the hospital seem a little less daunting. But her mind kept wandering back to Allyson and Brad, and Trygve knew she was having a hard time paying attention.

He explained that he had to take Bjorn for an evaluation for a new school that day, and she promised to look in on Chloe, which she did, but Chloe spent most of the day sleeping. She stirred uncomfortably every time the shots wore off, and the nurse would give her another shot of Demerol to keep her comfortable. She never even realized Page was in the room as she stood and watched her.

They moved Allie to intensive care at noon, and it was easier to keep track of both girls then. Brad stopped by at lunch, and he cried when he saw Allyson. He stopped and talked to Page when they left the room. He felt awkward seeing her again, now that she knew everything. And he could see how hard it had hit her.

"I'm sorry, Page. I'm sorry you have to deal with me on top of everything else." He looked grim, and Page didn't look much better.

"I guess I had to face it sooner or later, didn't I?" she asked bleakly. But this certainly wasn't great timing.

"It's just too bad it happened the way it did. It's bad enough worrying about Allie." It was, but after being caught in a lie about his whereabouts, it was inevitable that the whole story had come out, and she had decided that maybe it was best she knew, instead of deluding herself about her marriage. That was one of the worst things about it, knowing that she had thought everything was fine, when in fact it wasn't. She wondered if he had told Stephanie that he told Page everything, or enough at least, and if she was pleased that Page knew now. Page wondered about a lot of things, about them, about her, and about why their marriage hadn't been enough for him. But she also knew that she would probably never know the answers to her questions.

"I wish I knew why it happened," Page said softly, as they stood in the hallway, with people eddying around them. It was hardly the place for an intimate discussion, but it was all they had. The waiting room was filled with anxious, frightened people, worrying about loved ones in the ICU. The hallway seemed to have more air, and it was as good a place to talk as any. Maybe the reasons for their marriage falling apart didn't even matter, just that it had happened. She looked up at him then with an odd expression. "Did it strike you both funny that I was the fool in all this, that you two were off having a good time, and I was the idiot staying home with the kids, driving car pools?" He had talked about how different Stephanie was from her, how she was so "independent," and "her own person." Why wouldn't she be? She had no kids, no husband, she didn't owe anything to anyone. She was free to have fun with Brad, while Page stayed at home carrying out her obligations. The thought of it really made her livid.

"n.o.body ever tried to make a fool of you, Page," he said in an undervoice as a group of residents walked by them. "I was perfectly aware of how awkward the situation was. I just didn't know what to do about it. But no one ever thought you were the fool in this. If anything, you were the innocent victim."

"At least we agree on that much," she said sadly.

"The big question is what we do now." He looked nervous as he said it.

"Is it? It's beginning to look pretty obvious." She tried to sound flip, but her eyes told a whole other story, a story of shock and despair and disappointment.

"Nothing is obvious. Not to me, at least." And then he looked suddenly worried. "Are you leaving me?" He almost sounded surprised at the idea, and she smiled a small bitter smile as she looked at him. He was amazing.

"Are you kidding? Are you implying that you'd be surprised, or that I shouldn't, or that you're not planning to leave me anyway?"

"I never said that I was leaving," he said stubbornly. "I said no such thing. I said I didn't know what I was doing."

"That's an understatement apparently. Well, neither do I. But I certainly think leaving is a fairly appropriate option for either of us, given the situation. And just exactly why are you hesitating? What are you saying here? That you want to go on being married to me, or that you're not sure of this girl, or you're just too d.a.m.n scared to make a move? What is it, Brad?" She was starting to raise her voice, and he was looking extremely uncomfortable in the hallway.

"Lower your voice. The whole hospital doesn't have to know our business."

"Why not? I a.s.sume everyone else does. Everyone at work must, they must all think you're pretty hot stuff, and you've probably run into at least some of the people we know while you were with her. I guess, as they say about these things, I was the last one to know."

"I wish you had never known ... or at least not the way it happened ..."

"It could have happened anytime. Someone could have said something. Andy could have gotten hurt instead of Allie, when you were supposedly 'away,' or I could have gotten sick. Or I guess I could have just run into the two of you. But what exactly are you saying to me now? That this is just an affair? Last night you gave me the impression it was serious, and you had no desire to end it. Did I hear you wrong, am I crazy?"

She wanted to believe that she had misheard him, but another part of her suddenly knew that she would never feel the same about him again. The anger might go away one day, but she could never imagine trusting him again. And maybe after all was said and done, maybe by then, she wouldn't even love him. It was hard to know now, and all she could do was wonder about his intentions.

"You're not wrong," he said, looking annoyed again. "I didn't say I would end it. But I think it's too soon for you to make a decision about us, and this is an impossible time, with all of this happening to Allie."

"Oh, I see." She began to steam again, but this time, she kept her voice down. "You don't want to stop seeing your little friend, but you just don't want me asking you to move out, or move out yourself, because this isn't a convenient time. I'm sorry, I hadn't understood that. No problem, Brad. Stay as long as you like. Just be sure you remember to invite me to the wedding." There were tears stinging her eyes, and angry words on her lips, but they both knew they were not going to resolve the situation in the hallway outside ICU, where their daughter lay in a coma. There was too much going on, and this was far too explosive a situation.

"I think we just have to cool it for a while, and see what happens to Allie," he said calmly. It was a reasonable suggestion, but Page was still too angry to hear it. "Besides, it would be too hard on Andy right now, if we did anything drastic." It was the first really sensible thing he'd said, and Page had to nod in agreement.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." And then she looked up at him, her eyes full of anguished questions. "So you just go on with ...this thing ...and we talk about it later, is that it?"

"More or less," he said, squirming a little as he met her eyes. He knew he was asking a lot of her, and that in her shoes, he couldn't have done it. But he expected her to.

"Sounds like a pretty easy deal for you. And I turn the other way? Is that it?" Page asked, wondering how he could ask that of her.

"I don't know what to do, Page. You have to figure that out." This time he said it almost harshly. He was not willing to jeopardize his relationship with Stephanie, and yet at the same time, he seemed to want to hang on to his marriage, at least until he had decided what exactly it was he wanted. It sounded like a sweet deal for him, and it made Page furious to be asked to agree to it. But right now, she had no choice and she knew it. She couldn't cope with separating from him, and Allie's accident, and Andy's reactions to all of it, not to mention her own. But no matter what she did, she knew that she would be thinking about what was coming at her in the future. And for the moment, none of it looked pleasant or easy.

"If you're asking me for permission, I'm not going to give it to you," she said icily. "You have no right to expect that from me. You didn't have my permission before, and you did what you wanted. But I'm not going to make it easy for you now by saying it's fine with me. It's not. And sooner or later, you're going to have to live with the consequences of your actions." In some ways, it was lucky for him that they had more important things to deal with right now, and he could get by without having to face what he had done to their marriage. But eventually, no matter what happened to Allie, they'd have to deal with it, and they both knew that. It was what was frightening Brad, and depressing Page, as they stood outside the ICU at Marin General.

He looked at her for a long moment, not sure what to say to her, and then glanced at his watch. He needed a reprieve desperately. This was all too much for him, the emotions were running too high, and the reality of it was terrifying. Their lives had changed in the blink of an eye, and he still hadn't fully absorbed all that had happened.

"We can talk about this some other time. I have to get back to the office."

"Where will you be if I need you?" she said coldly. He was removing himself from her in every way he could, from Allie, from the hospital which was so upsetting to both of them, and from having to face her now that she knew about his affair. He was simply leaving, and going back to the office to hide ...and to Stephanie, to console him. Page suddenly found herself wondering what she looked like.

"What do you mean, 'Where will I be'?" he said unpleasantly. "I just told you. At the office."

"I just thought I'd ask, in case you wander off somewhere." He knew exactly what she meant, and his face got red as he fought back a flash of embarra.s.sment and anger. "If you do, leave a message at the desk in ICU as to where I can find you."

"Obviously," he said coldly.

She wanted to ask him if he'd be home that night, but suddenly she found she didn't want to ask him anything. She didn't want to hear the lies, didn't want to argue with him anymore, or insult him, or listen to the contempt and defensiveness in his voice. She felt totally drained by their conversation.

"I'll call you later," he said, and sped away, as she watched him disappear down the hall. She felt so many things as she looked at him, angry, sad, confused, hurt, betrayed, furious ...furious ...frightened ...and so lonely.

She went back to Allyson then, and at three o'clock she drove to Ross Grammar School to pick up Andy. It was a relief to follow her old routine again, to be with him, to be there for him, and take him to familiar places. She stayed with him all afternoon, and then dropped him off at Jane Gilson's for dinner. Brad was supposed to pick him up later, on his way home from the office.

"I'll see you in the morning," she said, kissing him, grateful for the sweet smell of his flesh, the softness of his hair, the two little arms around her neck as he kissed her. "I love you."

"I love you too, Mom. Kiss Allie for me."

"I will, sweetheart."

She thanked Jane Gilson again, who admonished her, as Trygve had, not to overdo it. "What do you think I ought to do?" Page asked irritably, "stay home and watch TV? How can I be anywhere else but there, given her condition?"

"I know, just be reasonable. Try not to wear yourself out completely." But it was too late for that, and they all knew it. Page's engine was running on fumes, but she had no choice now. She had to be there for Allie.

She was back at the hospital by seven-fifteen. She sat with Allyson for as long as she could in ICU, and then she went to sit in the hallway. She sat in a stiff chair, and leaned her head against the wall with her eyes closed. She just sat there for a long time, waiting for them to let her come back in again. You weren't supposed to stay in ICU constantly, the staff had too much to do, and most of the patients were too sick to enjoy the visits.

"That looks uncomfortable," she heard Trygve's voice in an undertone next to her, and she opened her eyes slowly and smiled to see him. She was exhausted by then, it had been an endless day, and Allyson had not improved or regained consciousness after the operation. They didn't really expect her to regain consciousness. But there were important signs they looked for to indicate further complications to the brain. Even though she was in a coma, they tested her constantly. And so far, things were no better. "How was your day?" he asked, as he sat down in the chair next to hers. His hadn't been easy either. Chloe was in a lot of pain, in spite of the medication.

"Not great." And then she remembered the messages on her machine. They had used up the tape, and it amazed her. "Did you get as many calls from kids today as I did?"

"Probably." He smiled. "A bunch of them came down here after school, but they wouldn't let them into ICU. I think a few of them tried to see Allie, too, but of course the nurses wouldn't let them."

"It'll probably do them good ...once they're better" ...if ...when ... or maybe never. "Word must have traveled like wildfire at school." And everyone was devastated about Phillip Chapman.

"One of the kids told me that some reporters showed up at school, to talk to the other kids about Phillip, about what kind of boy he was. He was a big star on the swimming team, got terrific grades, the perfect kid. I guess it makes it a better story." He shook his head, thinking, as Page did, that either of their daughters could have died just as easily as Phillip.

There had been a big article in the paper that day, about the accident, with photographs, and stories about each of the four young people involved. The main focus of it of course had been on Laura Hutchinson, her devastation over the death of Phillip Chapman. She had refused an interview, but there was a lovely photograph of her, and several quotes from one of the Senator's aides. They had explained that Mrs. Hutchinson was far too upset about the whole event to make any official comment. As a mother herself, she understood only too well the grief of the Chapmans, and the anxieties of the parents of the injured children. The article essentially cleared her name, and without actually saying so, somehow managed to imply that while the young driver hadn't been legally drunk, the group had in fact been drinking. The feeling one got in the end was that the accident was Phillip's fault, although the writer never actually came right out and said it.

"It was very well done," Trygve said quietly, as they talked. "They never actually accused him of being drunk, but they somehow managed to convey that impression, while saying of course that Mrs. Hutchinson is a mature, upstanding citizen, and an excellent mother. How could she possibly be responsible for the death of one boy, and the near death of three others?"

"You sound as though you don't believe them." Page sounded worried. She didn't know what she believed anymore. The hospital had said clearly that Phillip was not drunk, and yet the accident had to be someone's fault, or maybe it really didn't matter. Knowing whose fault it was wouldn't whisk Allyson out of the ICU like magic, or repair Chloe's legs. It wouldn't change a thing. The only thing it might change was the eventual lawsuits, and Page couldn't even think about that now. The whole idea of suing someone wouldn't do the kids any good, or bring Phillip back to life. The idea of suing made her sick. It was all much too confusing.

"It's not that I don't believe them," Trygve answered her, "it's that I know how reporters write. The innuendos, the lies, the way they cover themselves, or develop a story to coincide with their opinions. Political reporters do it all the time. They only report what works with the story they have in mind, and their point of view, or that of their paper, it's not necessarily the whole truth. It's designed to fit a preconceived picture. And that could be happening here. Also Hutchinson's aides were pushing a lot of propaganda to cover her and make her look good. Maybe it wasn't her fault, but it could have been, and they wanted to be d.a.m.n sure she looked like Mrs. Goodie Two Shoes, Mrs. Perfect Mother and Driver."

"Do you think it might have been her fault?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. But it certainly could have been, just as much as it could have been Phillip's. I spoke to the highway patrol again, and they still maintain that the evidence is inconclusive. If anything, the cars seemed almost equally to blame. The only difference is that Phillip was a kid, he hadn't been driving as long as she had. Boys are a.s.sumed to be wild behind the wheel, but not all of them are. And from everything the kids have said, the Chapman boy was a very responsible guy. Jamie Applegate said he had half a gla.s.s of wine, and two cups of black coffee. I've driven on a lot more than that. Maybe I shouldn't have. But he was a big kid, half a gla.s.s of wine shouldn't have knocked him flat, not followed by two cups of coffee and then later, a cappuccino. But Mrs. Hutchinson said she didn't have a drink all night. So she was older, sober, better known, more respectable, more grown up, and without further evidence, Phillip somehow begins to look guilty. It isn't really fair. I think that's what bothers me. Kids always get a bad rap, even when they don't deserve it. It seems particularly unfair to his family. Why should he get blamed, if no one knows for sure whose fault it was?

"I spoke to Jamie today, and he swears that they weren't drunk, and that Phillip was paying attention. I wanted to blame him at first ... I wanted to be mad at someone, and he was the obvious choice. But I'm not so sure he is anymore. And I have to admit, I wanted to kill the Apple-gate kid at first too, for conspiring with Chloe and getting her to lie to me, for getting her into that car in the first place. But he seems like a decent kid, and I've spoken to his father twice on the phone. Jamie is just beside himself over it. He keeps wanting to see Chloe, but I think it's too soon. I told him to wait a few days, and we'll see.

"Are you going to let him see her?" Page was impressed with his sense of fairness. And intrigued by his suspicion of Laura Hutchinson. The truth was that it was probably just what it appeared. An accident. With no one to blame, and too many who had paid too dearly for a moment's distraction, a glance in the wrong direction, the merest move of the hand on the wheel, and tragedy resulting. She wasn't really angry at anyone. She was just desperate for Allyson to survive it.