On Sunset Beach (17 page)

“Mom!”

Ford reached the staircase in less than a heartbeat, but already Grace had landed at the bottom of the stairs, her head on the last step and her body on the floor. A bone protruded from her right forearm, and her left leg lay at an odd angle to her body.

“Call 911!” he shouted across the lobby to the reception desk as he felt for a pulse. “Someone get Dan!”

His brother was there in a flash.

“Dear God, what happened?” Dan knelt next to their mother.

“She fell.” Ford couldn’t believe it even though he’d seen it. “It happened so fast. One second she was on the landing, the next she was falling and I couldn’t get there in time to break her fall.”

Dan reached out to Grace as if to pick her up, but Ford brushed his hand away.

“Don’t touch her, don’t try to move her,” he said. “You could end up doing more damage.”

“Is she still breathing?” Dan wanted to know.

“She is. She—”

“What happened to Mom?” Lucy demanded as she, too, fell to her knees next to the still form.

“She fell from the landing.” Ford repeated what he’d told Dan.

“Oh my God, is that her bone?” Lucy pointed to her mother’s arm and began to cry.

“Let’s hope that’s the only break she has.” Ford didn’t like the way Grace’s leg was bent, but didn’t want to get his siblings more upset than they were. He was grateful to hear the shriek of the ambulance’s siren as the vehicle sped up the drive.

Seconds later, there were four EMTs rushing across the lobby with a gurney, and Ford, Dan, and Lucy were all forced to back away while their mother’s condition was assessed. After what seemed like an eternity, the medics lifted Grace very carefully onto the gurney and headed toward the door.

“Wait! I’m going with you!” Lucy rushed after them.

“Come on, Ford.” Dan tapped him on the arm. “I’ll drive.”

“Where are they going to take her?” Ford jogged to keep up with his brother.

“I’ll ask but I’m pretty sure it’ll be Eastern Memorial out on the highway. It’s the closest.” Dan stopped at the ambulance to confirm the destination and found his sister in an argument with the EMTs.

“I need to go with her,” Lucy insisted as Dan took her by the arm and tried to steer her away from the vehicle.

“Ma’am, we can’t let you do that. We’ll take good care of her,” the medic told her firmly. “You can follow us—”

“I want to …” Lucy tried to shake off Dan.

“Stop it, Lu. Use your head. Let them do their jobs. You can ride with Ford and me and we’ll meet the ambulance there.” Dan nodded to the EMT who mouthed,
“Thank you,”
before closing the ambulance doors.

“Someone should be with her.” Lucy began to cry again as they ran to Dan’s car.

“Someone
is
with her,” Ford said. “Several someones who know what they’re doing. They’re the ones she needs right now.”

The ride to the hospital seemed to take forever, but by the time they’d arrived, Grace was already in triage.

“They’re going to take her for X-rays,” the physician’s assistant told them. “Why don’t you all go into the lobby until we get things settled back here. We’ll keep you updated, I promise.”

“I never saw Mom like that.” Lucy buried her face in her hands.

“None of us have.” It was clear that Dan was rattled, too. “Come on, Lu. Let’s go sit down and try to calm ourselves. It won’t do Mom any good to see the three of us this upset.”

They pushed three chairs together and sat in silence for several moments.

“Her arm was broken.” Lucy stated the obvious.

“Broken bones can be fixed,” Ford, who’d seen more than his share of broken bones, reminded her.

“I hate thinking that she’s in pain.” Lucy’s face was white, her eyes rimmed in red.

The simple statement hit Ford hard. He’d seen so much pain over the past few years that in some ways he’d become immune to thinking about what others felt. But when it came to his mother—his indomitable, invincible mother—he, too, hated the thought. She was the epitome of strength to him, the standard by which he’d judged women, and the reason, he knew, why the helpless type had never appealed to him. After their father died, Grace had kept the inn going while running the newspaper and raising three kids. She was loved and respected by everyone who knew her for her gentle nature as well as her can-do attitude. She was deeply involved in community affairs and a staunch defender of St. Dennis’s history. He could not think of one person who’d ever had an unkind word to say about her.

The fact that he’d given her years’ worth of sadness by his absence pained him now more than he could say.

Hang in there, Mom, and I promise I’ll stick around for as long as you need me
.

He cocked his head to one side. Funny, he thought, but for a mere instant, it was almost as if he heard his mother whisper: “Don’t think I won’t hold you to that, son.”

Over the next several days, Grace was watched over and kept company by at least one of her children at all times. By Thursday afternoon, though the pain medications kept her a bit groggy and her brain somewhat fuzzy, she was awake almost as much as she slept.

“What’s this?” she’d demanded of Ford upon opening her eyes for the first time.

“What’s what, Mom?” Ford dropped his magazine on the floor and hurried to his mother’s bedside.

“This thing. What is this thing?”

“It’s a cast,” Ford explained. “Your arm was broken when you fell. You have one on your leg, too, don’t you remember?”

“I fell …?” Grace had scrunched up her face in confusion, and Ford had had to explain the events of the last several days.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Grace had grumbled before closing her eyes and falling back to sleep.

Ford took the Saturday-morning shift, since both Lucy and Dan had a wedding at the inn to set up.

“She’s been awake several times,” Lucy told him as she scanned the emails on her phone. “Each time she seems to be a bit stronger, though she’s still a little confused about what happened.” She paused. “You said you saw her fall?”

Ford nodded.

“Was there someone behind her on the steps?” she asked. “Someone with her? A woman?”

“No. Mom was the only person on the stairs when she fell. Why?”

“It must be the drugs, then.”

“What must be the drugs?”

“Oh, last night she was muttering something in her sleep, something about someone named Alice having pushed her or somehow had caused her to fall down the steps.”

Ford shook his head. “She was dreaming. She was alone at the time.”

“Funny.” Lucy appeared thoughtful. “I remember hearing about someone named Alice who Mom knew when she was younger …”

“What about her?”

“Nothing.” Lucy shook off whatever she’d been thinking. “In any event, she’s been a little more lucid each time she wakes.”

Lucy paused at the door. “I hate to leave.”

“You go. I’ve got this.”

“You’ve had, what, six hours of sleep since Wednesday?”

He’d stayed from the time they’d admitted Grace until Friday morning, when Dan and Lucy insisted that he go back to the inn with Dan and get some sleep.

“More than that. Go ahead, do what you have to do. We’ll be fine.” Ford picked up the book he’d brought with him and moved a chair closer to the window, where the light was best, and sat down and tried to read the spy novel he’d picked up earlier in the week, but he couldn’t concentrate. All he could think of was the woman in the bed, and how her life was going to change, at least for a while.

When he’d wished for something to happen, this wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind.

“Mom? You’re awake.” He closed the book and switched to the chair next to the bed in one smooth movement. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck.” She hesitated before asking, “Was I hit by a truck?”

“You fell down the main staircase at the inn.”

“Ah, yes, I do remember now that you mention it.
Sorry. I seem to be a bit forgetful. I think Lucy told me … Is Lucy here?” Grace’s head moved slowly from one side of the room to the other.

“She was here last night and earlier this morning, but she and Dan have a wedding to deal with and—”

“Of course. The McGonigal wedding. Lovely people.” She grimaced as she tried to move.

“What can I do for you, Mom?” Ford was on his feet. “Do you want to sit up a little more?”

“Yes, and I’d like some water.”

“Let’s see if we can get you upright a little without causing you any pain.” He reached for the bed controls and raised the back by inches at a time.

“Oh, for crying out loud, Ford, just get me up,” she said impatiently.

“I’m trying to go easy.”

“Well, I’m fine.”

Ford paused. “You want to rethink that last one?”

“All right. I’m not fine. Just move this contraption a little faster.”

He maintained the slow speed on the controls, watching her face to see if she showed any signs of pain.

“There. That’s good. Thank you.” She nodded. “Now if I could have a drink …”

He held the large tumbler to her lips, but as soon as she had the straw in her mouth, she snatched the cup with her good hand and drank. When she finished, she handed the cup back to him.

“Nothing wrong with my left hand, Ford.”

“I can see that.” He set the cup on the tray next to the bed and pulled the chair closer to the bed. “Now, how are you really feeling?” he asked as he sat.

“My left leg hurts like the dickens,” she admitted, “and my right arm isn’t feeling too good either, and I have the headache to end all headaches. Other than that, I’m fine and ready to go home.”

“Do you want me to ring for the nurse and see if it’s time for your pain meds?”

“She’ll bring it when it’s time. I hate to take that stuff, you know. It makes me groggy. And it’s addictive. Why, I’ve read any number of stories of how people have become addicted to prescription medications.”

“We’ll make sure they cut off your supply before that happens,” he said drily.

“Oh, you.” Her left hand reached out for his and he took it. “I’m so glad you’re here, Ford.”

“I’m glad, too. I’m happy that I was here when …” He gestured to her casts. “Of course, I’d be happier if we could have skipped this part.”

“It is what it is. Into each life a little rain must fall, and all that.” Grace sighed heavily, and Ford knew that she was in pain. She closed her eyes and winced.

“Mom, what can I do for you?”

“Nothing, dear.” She winced again, her hand squeezing his. “It’s enough to know that you’re here.”

She closed her eyes, and Ford thought she was drifting back to sleep, but a few moments later, her eyes still closed, she asked sleepily, “What day is it, anyway?”

“It’s Saturday.”

“Saturday?” Her eyes flew open. “But it can’t be Saturday.”

“Yesterday was Friday, Saturday usually comes next.”

“Well, then, they’re just going to have to let me out of here. Give me that damned thing so I can call for the nurse.” She sat up and reached for the buzzer.

“Whoa. Hold on, Mom. What’s the big deal about Saturday?”

“I have an interview this morning. An important one. It’s for the paper and I—”

“So we’ll call whoever you’re supposed to talk to and explain what happened.” If they didn’t already know, he added to himself. He was pretty sure that everyone in St. Dennis knew by now that Grace had taken a tumble. There were almost a dozen flower arrangements lined up on the windowsill. “I’m sure whoever you’re supposed to meet will understand. We can reschedule and—”

“No.
You
don’t understand.” Her eyes filled with tears and she began to cry. “I wanted to write a series. The articles are supposed to spread out over the next weeks. It’s important. I have it all planned …”

Ford couldn’t remember seeing his mother cry since his father died. A few tears now and then, but she was really
crying
.

“Mom … Mom … it’ll be okay.” He tried to soothe her.

“I’ve never, ever failed to get the paper out on time. Not one time, in all the years since my father passed it on to me. Not even when your father died. I’ve always gotten the paper out on time.” She began to cry harder, and Ford thought for sure her heart was breaking.

He ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t stand to see his mother so upset. It almost seemed that this
realization—that her beloved
Gazette
might have to go on hiatus—was more devastating to her than the physical pain of her injuries. “Mom … look, tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you need.”

“You would?” With her good arm, she reached for the tissues on the tray next to her bed. Ford handed her the box and she pulled a tissue free. “You’ll help me get the paper out?”

“Of course, Mom. Whatever you want me to do.” He patted her left shoulder reassuringly.

She pulled another tissue from the box and wiped her eyes. “I’m afraid it’s more complex than you might think.”

“So you’ll walk me through it.”

“You’d really do this for me?”

“Mom, I’d do anything for you.” The lump in his throat cautioned him not to say more.

She rested her head back against the pillows. “You’ve taken a huge weight off my mind, Ford. I don’t know what I’d do if we couldn’t …”

“Don’t even think about it. The paper is going to be out on time, Mom. Just give it to me in steps.”

“Well, the first thing you have to do is this interview.” She paused. “Have you ever done an interview, son?”

“Sort of.” He wondered if
interrogations
might count as roughly the same thing but thought better of asking. “What’s the interview about?”

Grace told him about Curtis Enright’s handing over his property to St. Dennis and the new art center in detail, and her plan to do a series of articles about the proposed gallery in Enright’s newly renovated carriage
house. She yawned, the effort to explain having exhausted her. She rested her head again and closed her eyes.

“The appointment this morning at the carriage house is to interview the person setting up the gallery and the exhibits. Today’s just the first interview, like I told you. It’s just to introduce her to St. Dennis. Take some pictures. Make sure there’s a good one for above the fold. There’s a file on my laptop that has a good deal of background material on it along with my notes for the interview. There’s also a little notebook on my desk that you should probably read before you go.”