Daniel's Gift (11 page)

Yeah, right, Matt thought. Ralston was his former agent, the one who had done diddly squat for him when his career ended six years earlier.

"Matt, this is Merrilee. There's been an accident." Matt felt his gut tighten. "Danny was hit by a car. I'm at Peninsula Hospital. Come as soon as you can."

Hospital? Danny?

Matt leaned against the back of a chair, his legs suddenly weak.

"Matt, where are you?" Merrilee's voice again, more frantic this time. "Jenny is sitting here like a zombie. I don't know what to do."

"Matt? Alan Brady here. We're still at the hospital. We'll probably be here all night. Danny's out of surgery. He's in ICU."

ICU? As in intensive care? Matt closed his eyes and tried desperately to breathe. Oh, God, what was happening?

"Matt, it's Merrilee again. Ifs after midnight. Where are you? I'm home now. Jenny is staying at the hospital. I don't know much more except that the person who hit Danny didn't stop. Call me as soon as you get home, no matter what time it is."

"Matt, Alan Brady. Ifs six o'clock in the morning. Jesus, man, where are you? Danny is in a coma. It doesn't look good. I'm going to the station to see if we have any leads on the son of a bitch who did this to him. The kid was almost home, too. Probably some drunk who hit him."

The machine beeped. Then the final message from Merrilee came again, the one he had awoken to. Matt stared at the machine, willing it to say something more, to tell him that Danny was out of danger, that everything was okay, and everyone was home now. It stayed ominously silent.

A thousand questions ran through his mind, but only one answer. He had to get to Jenny and Danny. He ran back to his bedroom, grabbed a pair of jeans off the floor and pulled them over his briefs. He picked up a wrinkled shirt from the chair, kicked on his tennis shoes and ran back to the living room, grabbing his keys off the table on his way to the door.

When he got to the front porch, he stopped abruptly. His Jeep Wrangler was not in the driveway where he usually parked it. He looked at the street. It was empty. His mind grappled with the problem as he tried to remember where he had parked his car when he had gotten home last night.

His mind went blank. He remembered walking into the parking lot at the Acapulco Lounge, trying to get the key into the ignition. But it was foggy, and he had been a little high. Then there was nothing but blankness. Had he gotten in the car? Had he driven it home? He had his keys. How could he have his keys and not his car?

Matt sank down on the step in front of his condo as he tried to make sense of what was happening. His car had to be somewhere. Maybe it was at the next bar they had gone to. At least he thought they had gone somewhere else. He vaguely remembered bouncing along the road, wondering why the fog was so thick, why there weren't any lights.

Shit. Where the hell was his car? And how had he gotten home? He had to get to the hospital, to see Jenny, to find out what had happened to Danny.

What had happened? Danny had been hit by a car. A few blocks from home. The car didn't stop. Probably some drunk ...

Fuck. Matt buried his face in his hands as a terrible feeling of disaster filled his body. His mind screamed out a desperate protest. It couldn't have been him. Could it?

Chapter Eight

"Hush little baby, don't you cry, Momma's going to sing you a lullaby ..." Jenny's voice dropped to a whisper, then came to a complete stop. Danny wasn't crying. He didn't need a song to soothe him. He needed something loud, something to wake him up.

Jenny clapped her hands in front of his face. Not a muscle moved. His lids didn't even flicker.

"Wake up, Danny. Wake up."

She grabbed his arm tightly, the way she did when she was angry with him, when she wanted him to stay and listen, and he wanted to turn and rim. Then she felt guilty for the pressure of her hand on his arm. What if she hurt him?

The doctors said he wasn't in pain. God, she hoped they were right. It was hard enough to look at him lying there, without worrying that he was hurting inside and unable to cry out for help.

A nurse walked into the room, breaking the silence with a cheerful hello.

"The doctors will be here shortly to do their rounds," the nurse said. "They'd appreciate it if you would wait outside for a few minutes."

"Do I have to?" Jenny glanced over at Danny, so still, so fragile. She was afraid to leave, afraid he would disappear into thin air, vanish like a puff of smoke on a cool breeze.

Her fingers twisted around Danny's fingers, as if she could pull him back to life with the strength of her hand. He didn't respond.

"Mrs. St. Claire, please."

The nurse stood at the end of the bed, waiting.

Jenny stood up. "Shouldn't he be awake by now?"

The nurse hesitated. "He was heavily sedated for the surgery."

"It's not just the medicine that's keeping him out, is it?"

"We'll know more after the doctors take a look at him. It will probably be about a half hour."

"So long?"

"They'll want to do a thorough examination. By the way, my name is Leslie, and I'll be one of the nurses taking care of Danny during the day. Someone will be watching him twenty-four hours a day while he's here."

"That's good."

"Why don't you take a break?" Leslie said. "You've had a long night."

Leslie was trying to be helpful, but at that moment Jenny hated the nurse's round, cheery face, hated the fact that for her Danny was just another sick body and not a person. "I'll be in the waiting room. Please let me know the second I can come back."

"I will."

Leslie walked over to Danny's IV to check the fluid level. Her movements were brisk and efficient. She looked up as Jenny remained in the room. "Did you want to ask me something?"

"Do you ... have you ... have you seen other patients like this before?"

"Yes."

"Did they ..." Jenny licked her lips. "Did they recover?"

The nurse smiled at her with compassion. "Some did."

And some didn't. The words hung between them like a thick curtain that Jenny didn't want to look behind.

"I see." Jenny started to turn away.

"Mrs. St. Claire?"

"Yes?"

"I've seen miracles happen right here in this room. I still believe in them."

"Really?" Jenny wanted desperately to believe that a miracle was waiting just around the corner.

Leslie nodded. "Yes. And I have two kids at home. I'll take good care of Danny."

Jenny's eyes filled with tears as Leslie put a gentle hand on Danny's head and pulled at the cowlick that sent three hairs straight up in relief at the back of his head.

"He's always had that," Jenny said. "Every morning I wet it down, and by lunchtime, it's back up again. He hates when I fool with it." She smiled fondly. "And I always fool with it." She walked over to the bed, wet her fingers and pushed the hair back into place. It popped back up. At least a part of Danny was still fighting. She hoped the rest of him would come to life with the same energy.

Jenny walked out of Danny's room, past the nurses' station, down the hall, and through a set of double doors to the waiting room. A television was on. She glanced at the game show -- laughter, joking, bells ringing. She felt nauseated at the thought of so much confusion. How could people be happy when her world was falling apart?

There was no one else in the room, so she turned off the television. It was quieter now, but not as quiet as Danny's room. The elevator continued to ring its arrival. Nurses and doctors got on and off. Down the hall, a child squealed in protest at something unjust. Her mother scolded her for being too noisy. Jenny wanted to run down the hall and shake the mother, tell her that at least her child could cry and scream and be bad. At least her child was alive.

Oh God! What was she thinking? Danny was alive, too. He was just sedated from the surgery. He would come around. He would recover.

Hugging her arms around her waist, Jenny walked over to the window and glanced out into the atrium. It was morning, almost ten. The fog was lifting. Sunshine bounced off the branches of the trees, spilling across a table where a doctor and a nurse were having coffee.

Jenny didn't want to see the sun. She wanted it to be dark and cloudy, in keeping with her feelings. Then again, Danny was a child of the sun. He hated the rain, loved summer and everything that went with it, body surfing, watermelon, and the Fourth of July.

She wanted him to have another summer, at least another fifty summers, until he was old and gray. It couldn't end now, not like this.

Danny needed to wake up today. He could have one last beach fling before Thanksgiving, before winter set in for good.

"Jenny."

She turned to face her sister. Merrilee was wearing black slacks, a white blouse, and a gray blazer with a black-and-white necklace. Her pumps were black and shiny. Her watch and rings accessorized the outfit.

Perfection -- thy name is Merrilee.

For a moment, Jenny felt calmer at the sight. At least with Merrilee, she knew what to expect. No changes. No unpredictability. No emotion. Merrilee wouldn't give her sympathy, wouldn't make her weep. At the moment, it was almost a relief to see her cool, calm face.

"How's Danny?" Merrilee asked.

"The same."

"And you?"

Jenny shrugged. "I don't know. I don't care."

Merrilee looked at her with troubled eyes. "Well, I do care about you."

"I know you do."

Merrilee opened her arms to her. Jenny hesitated, then saw the apprehension on Merrilee's face and felt guilty at the way she had treated her sister the night before. She walked into Merrilee's embrace and hugged her tightly.

It had been a long time since she had hugged her sister. Merrilee smelled like Chanel perfume. It took her back to the days when their mother had worn the same scent, given the same hug. Her mother had been round, soft, and loving. Merrilee was skin and bones, taut muscles and disapproving looks. Merrilee could never take her mother's place, no matter how hard she tried.

Jenny stepped away and walked over to the couch. She sat down and leaned her head back, closing her eyes.

Merrilee sat down next to her. For a moment she was blessedly quiet. It didn't last long.

"Alan picked up the car you were driving and parked it at your house. He said it wasn't yours."

"No, it was Barry's. I borrowed it. He's probably wondering where it is."

"I'll call him for you."

"He's the bartender at the Acapulco Lounge. You can reach him there." Jenny opened her eyes. "I just remembered I'm supposed to go to work tonight."

"I'll call them, too. Is there anything else I can do?"

"I don't think so."

Merrilee paused for a moment. "Maybe you should go home, change your clothes, get some rest."

Jenny shook her head. "I'm not leaving. Not now."

"Danny might be asleep for a long time," Merrilee said, choosing her words with care.

"He's not asleep. He's in a coma."

Merrilee looked uneasy. "He's still asleep -- whatever word you want to use."

"I'm trying not to lie to myself about his condition."

"It's too soon for the doctors to know anything. Keep the faith, Jenny. Danny will come out of this."

Of course Merrilee believed her own words. She was a woman who denied the existence of anything negative in her life. Unfortunately, Jenny didn't have the same control over her emotions. When she felt sad, she cried. When she felt happy, she laughed. When she felt scared, she wanted to run away and hide.

A coward; she had always been a coward at heart. Jenny hated scenes, confrontations. Maybe it was a throwback to her childhood years, when her father had yelled at her mother about stupid things, like socks that didn't match, or a newspaper that had coupons torn out of it. She remembered curling into a small ball in the corner of her bedroom, her stomach twisting into knots as she listened to his anger.

It wasn't just the fights that made her uncomfortable. It was the times they went out to dinner and her father sent his meal back because it wasn't good enough or asked that their seats be changed, because they were too close to the kitchen. So many little scenes. So many upset stomachs.

Jenny felt sick right now, because she knew she had to fight for Danny, and she wasn't sure she could do it. What if she wasn't strong enough? What if she failed? Danny's life might depend on her courage or lack thereof.

"Jenny, I'm talking to you."

Jenny blinked. "What?"

"I asked you if Alan has any information on the driver of the car?"

"I don't know. He left a few hours ago."

"I'm glad he was with you. He's a good man."

"Yes." Jenny stood up and paced restlessly around the waiting room.

"Did you tell him about Luke?"

Merrilee's question made her pause. Slowly, she turned. "You did that for me."