Cracks in the Sidewalk (31 page)

“Then Elizabeth does hear us?” Charlie repeated. “But she’s unable to respond?” 

“It’s feasible that she hears your voice, but as far as the degree of perceptive awareness, well…” Doctor Sorenson ended with a questioning shrug.

“Is Elizabeth experiencing any pain?” Claire asked, recalling all the tearful nights she’d spent beside her daughter.

“If she is it’s unlikely the pain is intense or prolonged. Without a response, it’s impossible for me to give a definite answer. But I’ll set Elizabeth up with a timed morphine drip. That way she’ll have the right amount of medication to keep her comfortable. At least pain will be one thing she won’t have to deal with.”

“Thank you,” Claire said wearily.

Charlie rubbed his fingers back and forth across his forehead several times. Then he spoke slowly and with sorrow. “How bad is Elizabeth?”

“I wish I could say she’s getting better,” Doctor Sorenson said. “But the truth is she’s failing.”

Failing? The word hit Charlie like a bucket of cold water. He’d never been good at comforting someone, so he’d left that to Claire. When he arrived home from the office Liz was generally sleeping. He’d tiptoe into her room, plant a kiss on her cheek, and whisper how much he loved her. He’d concentrated on making enough money to pay for her care, and until now he’d turned a blind eye to the inevitable.

But Claire had lived with it for months as she’d watched Elizabeth lose a bit more mobility each day, as she listened to the soft moans that came when the headaches grew worse, and as she prayed for her daughter’s pain to give way to restful sleep. Yes, Claire was aware, constantly aware, of her daughter’s failing health. It was a dark shadow hovering night and day, an evil voice hissing in her ear, a heavy weight crushing her spirit and pulverizing bits of hope.

But she was far from ready to acknowledge the terrible loss that lay ahead. How could a mother ever be ready for such a loss? Claire lowered her face into her hands and began to weep. Charlie moved closer and tried to provide the comfort of his arms, although his heart was also shattering.

A Change of Plans

O
n a Sunday David rolled a racecar across the living room floor and announced he didn’t want to go to Grandma’s house.

“Too bad about what you want,” Jeffrey snarled. “I don’t feel like being hauled into court again, so shut up and put your jacket on!”

“No!”

Jeffrey threw the jacket in the boy’s face. “Put it on!”

David batted the jacket away. “I’m not going.”

Jeffrey grabbed the boy by the arm and yanked him to his feet. “You’re going whether you like it or not! If you don’t want to go see your mother, tell her!”

“I can’t,” David sniffled, rubbing his arm.

“Why?”

“Because she’s dead.”

“Dead?” Jeffrey stared at the boy in disbelief. “What do you mean dead?”

“She doesn’t wake up anymore.”

“He’s lying!” Kimberly screamed. “Mommy’s not dead, she’s sleeping!”

“She doesn’t wake up anymore?” Jeffrey repeated. “Ever?”

“Never,” David answered glumly.

“So what do you do when you’re there?”

“We watch TV or play with stuff. Grandma gives us cookies, but we’re not allowed to go in Mommy’s room.”

“Because Mommy’s sleeping!” Kimberly squealed.

“Yeah, I bet,” Kelsey commented snidely.

“You keep out of this,” Jeffrey growled. He turned back to the children. “When was the last time you actually saw your mother?”

David shrugged but avoided looking into his father’s face.

“Was it last week?” Jeffrey asked.

“Yes!” Kimberly shouted.

“No, we didn’t!” David said eyeing his sister.

“Did so!”

“Did not!”

“Enough!” Jeffrey screamed. “Kimberly, shut up and let your brother answer.” He turned back to the boy. “Have you seen your mother since Christmas?”

David nodded but didn’t look up.

“Since Valentine’s day?”

“I don’t know.”

“He’s lying!” Kimberly shouted. “Mommy made Valentines.”

Jeffrey gave her a silencing glare, then turned back to her brother. “Is that true?”

David nodded again.

“Have you seen your mother since then?”

“Yeah, in bed.”

“Awake in bed? Or sleeping?”

“She used to be awake. Now she’s asleep.”

“So you haven’t seen or spoken to your mother for a while?”

“I told you, we’re not allowed in her room.”

“And she never comes out of the room?”

“No!” David answered emphatically.

“Ain’t you the chump,” Kelsey chided. “You been suckered into hauling the kids over there to visit your in-laws!”

“Shut up!” Jeffrey screamed. “It’s enough I gotta deal with them without having to listen to your stupidity!”

“Hurry up, Daddy,” Kimberly whined. “I’m hot.”

“We’re not going anywhere, so you can take that stupid jacket off!” Jeffrey screamed. He turned and stormed out of the house alone. Kimberly wailed about how she wanted to go to Grandma’s house. Kelsey began to think about what style bridal gown she would wear.

J
effrey drove around for fifteen minutes, fuming. None of it made sense. If Liz was dead he would have been notified, unless she died and they somehow managed to keep it a secret. The McDermotts, he reasoned, could be shrewd enough to try something like that. Sure, they’d trick the poor dumb husband into thinking his wife was still alive, then get some pig-headed judge to order weekly visitations.

Clever, real clever. They’re probably looking to alienate my kids, take them the way they took my store. They think they’ll get away with it because they’re so high and mighty. They figure me for an idiot, aschnook who can be tricked into believing their dead daughter is still alive. I’ll bet they’re laughing at me this very minute—well, no more!

Without signaling, Jeffrey made a sharp U-turn and headed for the McDermott house. He screeched into the driveway, climbed out of the car, and angrily marched to the door.

“Where are the kids?” Claire asked when she saw Jeffrey standing alone.

“They’re not coming!” he said. “I’m here to see Liz.”

“She’s sleeping, and I don’t want—”

“I don’t give a crap about what you want!” Wild-eyed, Jeffrey jostled Claire aside and headed for Elizabeth’s room. Before she could stop him, he slammed the bedroom door open.

Charlie heard the commotion and came running. He entered the room just as JT grabbed Elizabeth’s shoulders and began shaking her.

“Wake up!” Jeffrey screamed angrily. “Wake—”

In an explosion of anger, Charlie threw his right arm around his son-in-law’s neck and yanked him away with a force that propelled both of them backward into the wall. The nightstand went flying and a sprawl of medicine bottles scattered across the floor.

“I’ll kill you if you touch my daughter again!” Charlie shouted.

“Are you crazy?” Jeffrey screamed, driving his shoulder hard into Charlie’s chest. “She’s practically dead! You’re keeping her alive, but she’s a vegetable!” 

Charlie punched Jeffrey to the floor, then jumped astraddle his chest and began hammering his face with blows. He hit him again and again, bouncing his head against the floor, bloodying his nose.  

“Stop it!” Claire screamed. “Stop this craziness!” She rushed to Elizabeth’s bedside and eased the blanket up around her daughter’s bared shoulders.

Her voice halted Charlie’s barrage and allowed Jeffrey to break free. Scrabbling to his feet, he screamed, “You broke my nose, you idiot—”

“That’s not all I’m going to break if you don’t get out of here!” Charlie answered. “Get out and don’t ever come back, or so help me I’ll—”

“Oh, I’ll get out,” Jeffrey said mockingly. He turned toward the door with his hand clasped to the rush of blood cascading from his nose. “But take a good look, ‘cause you ain’t never gonna see me or my kids again!” 

“I’m warning you!” Charlie roared.

Jeffrey hesitated, gave Charlie a look that promised the worst was yet to come, then turned and walked away, kicking aside a stray medicine bottle.

Claire still hovered over her daughter.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “Daddy and Jeffrey had words, but that’s all over now so don’t you worry.” She smoothed back a lock of hair that had fallen across Elizabeth’s face.

E
leven messages waited for Judge Brill when he arrived at the courthouse on Monday morning—five from Jeffrey Caruthers, three from Noreen Sarnoff, two from Dudley Grimm, and one from his sister-in-law, Ida, saying that she and Harold planned to come for a visit. Sam Brill pocketed Ida’s message, then spread the others across his desk.
What now?
he wondered as he began to dial Dudley’s number. 

“The McDermott family is asking for a restraining order to keep Jeffrey Caruthers away from their daughter,” Dudley explained.

“Last I heard the man had no interest in even seeing his wife.”

“Well, apparently that’s changed, because yesterday he stormed into the McDermott house and attacked Elizabeth in her bed.”

The image of Jack Wallner immediately flared in Sam Brill’s head. “Was anyone hurt?”

“No, but Charles McDermott had to forcibly eject him from their house.”

“Not good,” the judge mumbled. “Not good.” He said he’d have a conversation with the other side and get back to Dudley.

Judge Brill called Noreen next. “Counselor, are you aware that the McDermotts want a restraining order against your client?”

“For what?”

“They claim he attacked their daughter.”

“That’s not true, Your Honor. The only thing my client did was try to discover the truth, which to the best of my knowledge is not considered a crime.”

“During this supposed quest for truth, did he attack his wife?”

“Attack, no. He did, believing her asleep, give a gentle shake that was intended to simply wake her.”

“Explain.”

“David, the eldest of the Caruthers children, complained the grandparents were not allowing him and the other children to see their mother. Every time they came for a visit, they were told she was asleep. My client, understandably concerned about the welfare of his children, went to check it out and discovered his wife, Elizabeth, was in a coma. Naturally, he was upset because he hadn’t been notified.”

“Did he behave aggressively toward Charles McDermott?”

“On the contrary, Mister McDermott attacked him!”

“Elizabeth’s father?” Judge Brill asked with astonishment. 

“Yes! He broke Jeffrey’s nose and—”

“And I suppose your client also wants a restraining order against the McDermotts?”

“No. In light of the mother’s current condition, he’s asking the court for relief on the existing visitation order.”

Judge Brill heaved a sigh. “Have him in my office at three this afternoon, and I’ll listen to arguments.” He hung up, tossed all five of the messages from Jeffrey Caruthers into the wastebasket, and telephoned Dudley Grimm and instructed him to bring the McDermotts at three o’clock.

Judge Samuel Brill had a full docket and a desk piled high with the folders of people waiting for decisions. He pushed back his chair, closed his eyes and once again remembered Jack Wallner. If only he could trace things back far enough, he might somehow discover where he went wrong.

Sam Brill was never late, so when he failed to appear his clerk hurried back to chambers and rapped on his door. When she got no answer, she called out his name and eased the door open. He sat behind his desk, his head tipped back as if sound asleep. When she went to wake him, he wasn’t breathing. On his desk lay a brochure depicting the serenity of the Grand Canyon.

Claire McDermott

T
he pain of giving birth is nothing compared to the pain of watching your child die. Birth is a joyous pain that brings promise, but this is a hell worse than anything you could possibly imagine. Some days I can actually feel my heart being cored from my soul and shredded into confetti. I want to scream and cry out, but I don’t. I can’t. I have to stay strong for Elizabeth. So I push back the ache in my heart and listen for the sound of her breathing. I pray that something will change, that the Lord will have mercy on my child.