Accident (13 page)

“Can I get you anything?” He didn't know what else to say to her. Too much had happened, too much had been said and revealed for them ever to be the same people they had once been to each other. It was devastating to think about it, and impossible to pretend it hadn't happened. “Have you eaten?”

“No, thanks.” She had absolutely no appetite, and for good reason.

“Do you want anything from the kitchen?” She shook her head and tried not to think of what he'd said, but all she could think about now was the woman at the agency, and the eight months he had spent with her. And before that? Who had there been? How long had he been cheating on her? Had there been others? And was it that she was unattractive to him, or did she just bore him?

She realized then that she was still wearing her gardening sweater from the night before, and her oldest jeans, her hair was a tangled mass after her hours in the hospital. She was no competition for a twenty-six-year-old Stanford grad with no responsibilities and no obligations. She wondered what they had done over the weekend.

“Where did you go with her?” She pushed him for more information before he left the room.

“What difference does it make?” He looked annoyed that she was pressing him, and seeing his irritation made Page angry.

“I just wondered where you were when I didn't know where to find you.” What kind of places did he go with her? Page felt totally shut out of his life, and as though he were a total stranger.

“We went to John Gardiner,” he surprised her by answering. It was a tennis ranch in the Carmel Valley. She nodded. But he had been back in Stephanie's apartment in the city by the time he called her. Which was why he had come to the hospital so quickly. He had waited as long as he could, so Page wouldn't suspect where he'd been. But after half an hour he hadn't been able to stand it any longer.

“You should eat something,” he said then, as though to move on to another subject. He was anxious not to discuss his life with Stephanie with her. But Page seemed to want to know all the details, as though in hearing them, she would understand what had happened.

“I'm going to take a bath and go back to the hospital,” she said quietly. There was nothing for her to do at home. Andy was in bed. And she wanted to be with Allie.

“They said you couldn't see her,” Brad said calmly.

“I don't care. I want to be there.”

He nodded, and then remembered something. “What about Andy? Will you be back before morning?”

She shook her head. “You can get him ready for school tomorrow. You don't need me for that.” Or did he? Was that the only use he had for her now? To take care of his children?

“No,” he agreed, his voice sounding sad finally, “but I need you for other things …”

“Oh?” She sounded detached as she looked at him. “Like what? I can't think of a thing now.”

“Page … I love you …” It just sounded like words suddenly.

“Do you, Brad?” she asked from the depths of her sadness. “As far as I can see, I've been kidding myself for a long time …and maybe you have too …maybe it's just as well we found out now.” Although she didn't feel relieved at what she'd discovered, only wounded, hurt to her very soul.

“I'm sorry …” he said softly, and made no move to approach her, which said it all. There was a world between them.

“So am I,” she said, and stood up, looking at him, and then without a word, she walked into her bathroom. She turned on the tub, and closed the door, and once she lay in the bath, the tears ran down her face, as she thought of Brad and Allie. Now she had two people to cry about, she reminded herself. It had sure been a great weekend.

CHAPTER 6

P
age 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
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 reassuring. 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 ass 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.