Accident (33 page)

It took Page a minute to regain her composure, and then she kissed him and told him how proud she was of him. “You're a terrific guy, you know that?”

“Do you think she heard me, Mom?” he asked, looking worried.

“I'm sure of it, sweetheart.”

“I hope so,” he said sadly. He was still subdued when they got to Chloe's room, but Page was amazed at how well he had done. He hadn't cried, or been visibly frightened. And he was even better with Chloe. Bjorn was there, visiting her too, and eventually the two boys started playing and laughing and running in the halls, and playing tag around the nurses.

“We'd better get them out of here before the nurses throw us out,” Trygve said, laughing, and then he glanced more seriously at Page. “How did he do in ICU? Was he okay?”

“He was fantastic. He was so brave, and so sweet. He left a gardenia next to her on the pillow.”

“He's a sweet kid. He seems happier today, how is he?”

“Okay. Brad and I had a long talk last night. He's going to move out. We're going to have to say something to Andy.”

“Nothing's ever easy, is it?” He squeezed her hand, and they went to round up the boys, and then Trygve invited them out for pizza. “Or do you have to go home and cook dinner for your mother and sister?”

“Nope,” she grinned. “All gone. I sent them home on a four o'clock flight,” she said, looking ecstatic.

“Aunt Alexis is weird,” Andy added, listening to them, “she spends all her time in the bathroom.”

They had a nice time together that night, in sharp contrast to the night before. The boys played and talked and teased and devoured the enormous pizza, and Page and Trygve had a chance to talk and share a few normal hours, away from the hospital. It even gave her a chance to talk about her artwork. She'd been thinking about getting a studio, after Allie got out of ICU, or if they settled into some kind of permanent routine. But she wanted to pursue her painting more seriously, and maybe even get paid for her murals.

“Good for you,” Trygve congratulated her. “You should have done that years ago. They're sensational.” And so was she. He liked her better every time he saw her. He took them home eventually and he was sorry when he had to leave, but he had to take Bjorn home. And Chloe would be coming home in another week or two, that was going to keep him pretty busy. But he had every intention of making time for Page too, and going to the hospital if she needed him to. He also wanted to spend a little time with Andy. It was going to be hard for her now if Brad moved out, and hard for the boy. Trygve wanted to be there to help her pick up the pieces. He just hoped that nothing dramatic happened to Allyson now. They had all been through enough, and with everything else going on in her life, he wasn't sure that Page could take it.

CHAPTER 14

B
rad came home from New York on Thursday afternoon, but Page didn't see him. He never came home to Ross that night, and the next day when he stopped by to see Allyson at lunchtime, she missed him. The nurses told her he'd come by at noon, but when she went home after picking Andy up from Jane's that night, she found Brad packing. The door to the bedroom was closed. But she saw his car in the garage, and Andy exploded into their bedroom to see him. And then he looked around him, startled. There were two suitcases on the floor, another on the bed, and there were clothes everywhere. And as Page saw them, she felt her heart ache.

“What are you doing, Dad?” Andy looked confused, and this wasn't the way Page had wanted him to find out. Brad looked around the room, then at her, and they both knew they had no choice. “Are you going away again?” He looked deeply worried.

“Sort of, champ.” He sat down on the bed and pulled Andy onto his lap, as Page watched them, feeling a lump rise in her throat. Her life seemed to be full of good-byes these days, and painful moments. “I'm going to move to the city.”

“Me too?” Andy looked stunned. No one had told him they were moving.

“No, you're going to stay here with Mom.” He had wanted to say “…and Allie …” but he stopped himself in time. Who knew if she'd ever come home again?

“Are we getting divorced?” Andy asked as tears sprang to his eyes and his father hugged him.

“Maybe. We don't know yet. But it seemed like a good idea for me to move out. Your Mom and I have been doing an awful lot of fighting.”

“Is it because I ran away that night, Dad? Is that why you're leaving?”

“No, it's because it's something I've wanted to do for a while. And things have gotten pretty difficult lately. Sometimes that's the way things happen.”

“Is it because of the accident?” Andy needed a reason. But maybe there was none.

“Could be. I don't know. Sometimes things just get rough …but that doesn't mean I don't love you. I love you a whole bunch, and so does Mom. We're both going to be here for you, and you'll come and visit me sometimes, and on weekends.” Listening to him, Page suddenly realized that there were going to have to be visitation schedules, and lawyers. It was all so complicated, and so official. She hated it to get that way, but this was what would happen now. They would have to divide up everything they had, the furniture, what was left of the wedding gifts after sixteen years …the linens …the silverware …the towels …What a miserable thing their life had become, and all
in
a matter of moments.

“Where will you be, Dad? Do you have a house?”

“I'm going to stay in an apartment. I'm going to get my own phone number, and you can call me. And you can call me at the office.” Andy listened to him and then started to cry as Brad held him.

“I don't want you to go,” he said miserably as Page cried while she watched them. It was awful.

“I don't want to go either, Son, but I have to.”

“Why?” He didn't understand it, and watching them, neither did Page. How had it come to this? How could they have been so stupid?

“It's hard to explain. Things just worked out that way.”

“Why can't you fix them?” It was a reasonable suggestion and Brad smiled at Page through his own tears.

“I wish I could.” But the truth was he didn't wish he could. He was happy to move on. He wanted his own life, his own apartment, and Stephanie. He was actually excited about moving. And she was thrilled. She wanted to move in with him right away, but Brad thought they should wait a month or two.

It was only when he came back here, when he saw how painful it was for all of them, that he didn't want to leave them. But he was smart enough by now to know that if he didn't move out, he'd be slipping away whenever he could in a matter of moments. He was ready to go, no matter how sorry he was, or how much he loved Andy.

“Don't do it, Daddy,” Andy begged, and Page felt nauseous.

“Son, don't. It's the right thing for all of us. I know it.”

“What'll Allie say when she comes back?” He was clutching at straws and they all knew it.

“We'll have to explain it to her.” Andy ran to his mother then and sobbed as she held him.

It was a terrible night for all of them. Brad decided to spend the night there and he worked through the night going through his papers. And by morning, they all looked as though they were in mourning.

Page made pancakes and sausages for all of them, normally their favorite, but no one could eat them. Andy had had a baseball game scheduled that day, but with his broken arm, he couldn't play. And he wanted Brad to stay and play with him, but by late morning, Brad said he needed to get to the city. He knew that Stephanie was waiting.

“When will I see you, Dad?” Andy asked, panicky, as Brad loaded his bags and boxes into the car, and prepared to leave them.

“Next Saturday, I promise. Just pretend I'm on a trip. You can call me every day at the office.” But Andy was beyond words and promises by then, he just stood there and cried and so did Page, as he backed out of the driveway and left them. Other than Allie's accident, four weeks before, it was the worst day she could remember. All that hope, all those years, those two shining people, the family they had built, gone forever.

Andy stood outside crying in her arms for a long time, and then finally they went inside, and sat together. It felt as though someone had died. They had lost two people they loved. And Page could hardly believe it when her mother called at lunchtime and thanked her for the lovely visit.

“Alexis and I had such a good time. And it was so good to see Allyson. I'm sure by now she's much better.” The glib words left her speechless, and she was in no mood to talk to her. Page told her mother she'd call her back sometime, hung up, and went back to Andy. He was lying on her bed, crying into the pillow. He felt terrible, and she had to admit, she didn't feel much better. Somehow, seeing Brad leave made it all so real, and so painful.

“I know you feel rotten, sweetheart. But we have to make the best of it,” she said through her own tears. And then Andy rolled over to see her.

“Did you want him to leave?” Was it her fault? His? Andy's? Allie's? …whose? …Andy didn't understand it.

“No. I didn't want him to leave, sweetheart. But I know he had to. Things had gotten pretty bad.”

“Why? Why were you fighting?”

“I don't know. We just were.” It was so hard to explain to him. She didn't completely understand it herself, how could she explain it to a child of seven?

Trygve called them late that afternoon, and she told him what had happened. He invited them over for one of his stews, but at first Andy didn't even want to see Bjorn, and then finally he relented. He got in the car halfheartedly, and took the teddy bear he slept with.

“Bjorn has one too,” he explained to Page. “He calls him Charlie.”

And when they got there, Bjorn could see that his friend was in bad shape. They sat outside and talked for a long time, while Andy told him what had happened.

“How is he?” Trygve asked, worried about them both.

“Upset. It was worse than I thought when the actual moment came. It was awful.”

“I remember only too well.” It still hurt to think about the day Dana had left. Everyone had cried for hours, even Dana. “God, you've all been through the wringer.”

“Who hasn't?” She looked over at him, exhausted again. It was a permanent state these days. “How's Chloe?”

“Raising hell at the hospital. She's supposed to come home next week, if we can rig up ramps for her, and she'll have to sleep downstairs in Nick's bedroom.” But listening to him, Page thought about how lucky he was that she was coming home at all. In four weeks, there had been no change in Allie's condition. It was not beyond hope yet, but soon it would be.

They had a nice dinner together that night, and talked about the menu for his Memorial Day barbecue. He gave her his latest article to read, it was part of a series for
The New York Times
he'd been working on for a while. They had a good time, but he didn't press her about anything. He knew she was hurting over Brad, and the last thing he wanted to do was upset her.

“I didn't expect to feel so awful when he left,” she explained after dinner, as they sat outside in deck chairs, fighting the mosquitoes.

“Why not? After sixteen years, you'd have to be numb not to. I was pretty numb actually by the time Dana left, but it still knocked the hell out of me. I grieved for a long time. You may too.”

“I don't know what's happening to me anymore. My life is such a mess.”

“No it's not. It just feels that way right now. You have a lot on your plate. What's happening with Allie? What does Hammerman say?”

“That a lot is still possible, but if she doesn't come out of the coma in a month or two, eventually it won't be. I'm beginning to worry that she's going to stay this way, Trygve.” He didn't say anything for a moment as she thought about it, and looked at the stars in silence.

“I hope not.” And then he remembered something he'd forgotten to tell her. “I heard something interesting last week, but I knew you had your hands full and I didn't want to upset you.”

“What was that?”

“Someone saw Laura Hutchinson drunk at a party. I mean really drunk. She had to be taken away, and it was all done very quietly. Very hush-hush. Things like that make me wonder how often that's happened before and what really happened that night. If the rest of us get drunk, we fall on our faces and make asses of ourselves, and it doesn't matter if we don't do it very often. Someone with a problem … in a delicate situation … it would be handled very differently, wouldn't it? It would all be whisked away like a bad smell so no one would know it.

“I've always wondered if she was drunk that night. She was so apologetic to everyone, so distraught, so attentive to the Chapmans, from what I heard.” She had made an enormous donation to Redwood High School in Phillip's name, and everyone knew it. “I always thought it sounded like she felt guilty.”

“Maybe. Or maybe she just felt terrible about Phillip's death, whether she was responsible for it or not. She wrote to me, and told me how sorry she was about Allie,” Page said without suspicion. She had wanted to blame Laura Hutchinson at first, but she had gotten over that.

“We heard from her too, but I never answered. What can you say? Oh, no problem …it's fine, you almost killed my daughter, and may have turned her into a wheelchair case, but we really appreciate the letter.” He looked angry, as he said it, and then he looked at Page pensively.