More Than You Know (20 page)

28

“D
o you want a coffee?” Isak asked, spying a Dunkin’ Donuts in the airport terminal.

“Sure,” Rumer said.

They stood in line and when they reached the counter, Rumer was about to order her usual hazelnut with cream, but at the last minute, she had a change of heart and ordered a hot cocoa with whipped cream. Isak gave her a funny look and she responded with a grin, “You only live once!”

Isak shrugged and ordered her usual, no-nonsense black.

“Anything else?” the woman behind the counter asked.

Rumer eyed the crullers.

“Nothing for me,” Isak said, pulling her wallet out of her bag.

“I guess not,” Rumer said, deciding to show some measure of restraint as she reached into her shoulder pouch, but Isak motioned for her to put her wallet away. “I’ve got it,” she insisted.

Rumer shrugged. “All right, but next time it’s on me.”

Sipping slowly from their hot cups, they studied the flight schedule monitor nearby and realized that Will and Rand’s flight had been delayed. Finding seats near a window, they settled in to wait and Isak checked her phone. She’d received a text from Meghan around four o’clock telling her they were on their way, but that they were thinking of stopping somewhere for dinner. Isak had texted back that there were all kinds of restaurants off I-84, especially off exit 32 in Southington, but there also was plenty of food at Grammie’s if they could wait. Meghan had written back that she didn’t think Tommy could wait—he was starving. And Isak had sent back a smiley face and said she was looking forward to seeing them, but Meghan hadn’t replied—hardly like her.

Isak tried to put it out of her mind and imagined the hugs they’d be sharing in a few short hours—and the surprise on her sisters’ faces when they saw how grown up their niece and nephew had become, especially Tommy, who’d been sporting facial hair the last time she saw him.
Mum would’ve loved seeing everyone,
she thought sadly.

She stared at her phone, willing her daughter to write back, but the screen stayed ominously dark. “What’s the matter?” Rumer asked, glancing over.

“Nothing,” she said, looking up. “I just thought Meghan would respond to my last text. I always worry when I don’t hear back right away.”

“She probably fell asleep,” Rumer reassured her. “She’s been up late studying for exams and everything.”

“You’re right,” Isak said with a sigh. “I don’t think moms ever stop worrying, though. Do you think Mum ever stopped?”

They looked at each other. “No!” they both said, laughing.

“She had good reason to worry,” Rumer teased, “with
you
in the house!” She licked her whipped cream and continued, “We just got Rand a phone last year. He drove us crazy until we did. Will was the holdout—he didn’t want the extra expense. But I wanted him to have one so I could reach him, or he could reach me if he had a problem. So we made a deal with him that he always had to answer if it was me calling, even if he was in the middle of a video game or hanging out with his friends. But I can’t tell you how many times he hasn’t kept his end of the deal—and when he doesn’t, I always imagine the worst, like he’s been abducted or hit by a car. It drives me crazy, and I get on his case about it, but he just complains that I worry too much.”

“Maybe you should take it away for a week,” Isak suggested.

Rumer nodded. “I’ve thought of that, but then I
really
wouldn’t be able to reach him.”

Isak laughed. “It’s a vicious cycle.” She paused thoughtfully. “If you think about it, that’s nothing compared to the stuff we pulled. My kids are so good compared to how I was. I don’t know what Matt and I did differently, because Mum was a good parent—strict and always there for us—but when I think back to some of the crazy things we did—the parties we had and the amount of alcohol we consumed—I honestly think we’re lucky to be alive.”

Rumer smiled. “Remember the time we said we were sleeping over Jenny Hollister’s house and the boys told their parents they were camping, and then we all met at the abandoned barn?”

“I remember,” Isak said, smiling, but then looked puzzled. “Was Ber there?”

“No, she was too young.”

“I was in tenth or eleventh grade,” Isak reminisced with a smile, “and we got Sue Burton to buy us a case of beer.”

“And Jenny’s sister bought us some Boone’s Farm—and then Adam Wiley showed up with a dime bag . . .”

“Adam Wiley,” Isak said wistfully. “Damn, he was cute. Did you know we spent the night in the hayloft?”

Rumer laughed. “Everyone knew that!”

Isak laughed too. “Oh, well, we had some good times. But I’d absolutely kill my kids if they ever pulled something like that.”

“I’m sure they’ve had their share of fun—fun you don’t know about!”

“You’re probably right,” Isak said, looking at her messages again. “Okay—if Meghan’s asleep, I’m texting Tommy.” She sent him a quick note that asked:
how’re you doin’?
Then she waited expectantly and, after ten more minutes of staring at her dark screen, she whispered, “Okay, that made it worse.”

 

Beryl sat in front of her laptop with a pot of English tea steeping beside her. She glanced up, realized she’d forgotten all about the tea, and poured herself a cup. Then she wrapped her hands around the steaming mug and leaned back to reread what she’d just written. She made a few edits with one hand and took a sip, wishing she had a scone. Then she remembered the cookies and got up to get one. As she sat back down, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” she called with a full mouth.

Micah pulled open the door. “Uh-oh, someone’s in the cookies again,” he teased.

She laughed. “Want one?”

“I never turn down a chocolate-chip cookie,” he said, kneeling down to scratch Flan’s belly.

“Me neither—want some tea to go with it?”

“Sure.”

“Is it still raining?”

“No, just misting.”

“That’s good. Did you hear the thunder this morning?”

He nodded. “It woke me up, but Charlotte slept right through it.”

“It woke us up, too—I thought the sky was falling!”

“We need the rain.”

Beryl nodded and looked up. “Oh, my goodness, I have to show you what we found.”

 

Isak had just settled in for the long wait for the delayed flight from the West Coast when her phone rang unexpectedly, making her heart jump. She looked at the screen. “Connecticut State Police?” she whispered to herself. She pressed Answer and felt her heart race.

“Yes, this is she,” she said hesitantly.

“Yes . . . yes.” Tears started to fill her eyes as she listened. “Oh, no!” she cried out, covering her mouth. “Oh, please no.” She nodded her head as she listened. “Oh, please don’t let this be happening.”

The waiting area suddenly seemed very quiet. Rumer sat forward, trying to discern what terrible news the caller was sharing. “What is it?” she whispered, searching Isak’s eyes, but Isak just shook her head.

Finally, Isak pulled herself together. “Let me speak to him.” A moment passed and she blurted, “Oh, honey, what happened—are you okay? Is Meghan okay?” She listened for a long time, her eyes full of tears. “What happened to the other driver?” She paused. “Okay, I’m coming. I’m in Boston, but I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She paused, listening. “I see—okay—I’m not sure what we’ll do then. I love you, too, honey—please tell Meghan I love her—and we will figure this out.”

She stood up, in shock. “I have to go,” she said.

Rumer stood too. “What happened?”

Isak covered her anguished face with her hands and started shaking uncontrollably. “Oh, Ru,” she sobbed. “They were in an accident. A truck came out of nowhere and hit them head-on. Tommy said he thinks it came up the exit ramp, but he was so upset I had trouble understanding him. He said their SUV flipped and landed on its roof—crushing the driver’s side. Meghan was in the passenger seat because he’d wanted to stretch out in back—and he kept saying how sorry he was—that he should’ve been up front. The kids are in Danbury—and the doctor thinks Meghan’s wrist is broken . . . and her face is bruised, so she might have a concussion.”

“What about Matt?” Rumer asked hesitantly, her voice choked with fear.

Tears flowed down Isak’s cheeks. “Oh, Ru,” she said, shaking her head. “They Life-Starred him right to Hartford.”

Rumer covered her mouth, muffling a cry.

“I have to go . . .”

“I’ll go with you . . .”

Isak shook her head. “You can’t. You—we—oh, how the heck are we going to do this? How am I going to go to both places?”

“Go to Hartford,” Rumer said, taking control. “We’ll manage. I’ll call Beryl and tell her to go to Danbury right away, and when Will gets here, we’ll come to Hartford too.”

“You don’t have to come,” Isak started to protest, but Rumer wouldn’t hear of it.

“We’re coming,” she said assertively, giving her sister a hug. “Now go! We’ll be right along.”

“Okay,” Isak said, wiping her eyes. She picked up her bag and turned; as she did, an older woman put her hand gently on her arm and looked her straight in the eye.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but overhear . . . please know I’ll be praying for you, dear.”

“Thank you,” Isak said with a nod.

 

Beryl had just finished showing Micah the photographs and was bringing him upstairs to take a look at the artwork when the phone began to ring. “Go ahead up,” she said, turning around. “Go see and I’ll be right up.” She hurried back down the stairs, picked up the phone, and when she heard the fear in Rumer’s voice, her heart stopped.

“I’ve been calling your cell for ten minutes,” Rumer blurted in frustration.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear it. What’s the matter?”

Rumer’s voice was filled with emotion as she shared what she knew. Beryl listened, tears filling her eyes. “Will and Rand are landing now—they don’t know yet—but I’m renting a car and we’re going to Hartford to be with Isak and Matt. Meghan and Tommy are in Danbury, in the emergency room—can you go?”

“Of course,” Beryl said, wiping her eyes. “I’ll leave right away.”

As she hung up the phone, she turned and saw Micah standing in the doorway. “I’m going with you,” he said.

29

“C
oncentrate!” Isak told herself as she pulled onto the highway. Although she’d driven through Connecticut countless times when she was in college, she’d always taken 91 South and picked up 84 in Hartford, so she wasn’t familiar with the Mass Pike, and between the rainy conditions and the blur of her tears, she almost missed the exit for I-84.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, “please don’t take Matt from me.” Her heart was gripped with fear as she suddenly realized it might be too late. If he was so badly injured that he had to be airlifted, he might already be gone. She imagined arriving at the hospital and the doctor solemnly taking her aside:
We did all we could—I’m so sorry . . .

“No!” she choked as she drove through the rain, raking her hand through her hair. “Oh, God, please no . . .” A fresh wave of tears filled her eyes and she brushed them away, trying to concentrate on the road. She pictured Matt lying alone on a stretcher—bruised and bloody and broken with no loved ones at his side. “I’m coming, baby,” she whispered. “I’m coming—don’t you dare leave me!”

The wiper blades splashed back and forth as the miles flew by. “Think positive,” she chided. She pictured his sweet, boyish grin—the one that spread across his face when he was teasing her—and his blond hair, which had just recently started showing signs of gray. She pictured him sitting on the deck in his boxers, drinking coffee from his favorite Life Is Good golfing mug, and reading the
Wall Street Journal.
And she pictured the way he’d looked the first time he’d tenderly cradled Tommy in his arms; he’d been so proud, his eyes glistening with love and amazement.

“Oh, God, don’t take him from me,” she commanded angrily. “I can’t handle two funerals.” She imagined the unending grief of her children. “Mum, don’t let this happen to us. . . .”

She stared through the windshield, lost in thought—her mind, of its own accord, suddenly recalling the morning of her wedding. It was so vivid she could almost hear her mom’s voice.

“Nervous?” Mia had asked when she’d come in to wake her.

Isak had nodded, wanting to bury her head under her pillow.

“Don’t be nervous, hon,” she’d said softly, sitting on the bed. “Matt’s a good man—I wouldn’t let you marry him if I didn’t think so.” Then she’d smiled, knowing how slim the chances were of putting the brakes on anything her oldest daughter had set her mind on doing. “I want you to promise me, though, that you’ll treasure each and every moment—not just today, but every single mundane, hectic, lonely, difficult moment—because that’s what life’s about—it’s about the journey—
your
journey—and Matt’s. And when the babies that you’re going to be blessed with are driving you crazy . . . and you think you can’t possibly change another diaper . . . or pick up another toy—or when they’re suddenly grown and it seems like they’ve deserted you, remember that you’re just in the thick of it—the thick of your life . . . your journey! Don’t ever postpone the things you want to do—every moment is precious, and in the rush of things, we sometimes forget that. Some people don’t realize how blessed they are until something happens—and then it’s too late. So make sure you tell Matt you love him . . . every day—and God will take care of the rest.”

Isak
had
promised her mom she would, but now she suddenly realized she hadn’t kept that promise at all. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d told Matt she loved him. Why had it taken something tragic to realize just how much? “Please don’t let it be too late,” she whispered.

She pulled into a parking spot and ran inside. The receptionist looked frazzled but did her best to help. “Let’s see—Matthew Taylor . . .” She flipped through the stack of new admissions, paused on one, and bit her lip. “I’ll have the doctor come see you as soon as he can, Mrs. Taylor.”

“Is Matt . . . is he . . . alive?”

“He’s in surgery,” the nurse said with a gentle smile.

Isak nodded, tears stinging her eyes, and turned to find a seat in the waiting room.

 

“Are you sure your mom doesn’t mind coming over to let Flan out?” Beryl asked as they pulled onto the highway.

“I’m positive.”

“And you told her where the food is?”

Micah nodded.

“And you’re sure you don’t mind driving?”

“I’m sure.”

“I feel like I’m forgetting something.”

“Whatever it is, we can get it down there,” Micah assured her.

“I guess,” she sighed resignedly. “I wish I had Tommy’s cell number.”

“Call Isak.”

“I don’t know if she’s there yet and I don’t want to call if she’s driving.”

Micah looked at the clock on the dashboard. It was almost six. “Unless something happened, she should be there by now.”

Beryl stared at her phone, considering her options. “I’ll call Rumer.”

Without realizing it, she held her breath while she waited for her sister to answer.

“We just got here,” Rumer said breathlessly. “The doctor is talking to Isak right now—can I call you back?”

Beryl nodded; she hadn’t uttered a word.

She closed her phone and Micah glanced over. “Did you get her?”

“She’s calling back,” she said, gazing out the window at the Massachusetts landscape and noticing that the leaves were much further along than the ones in New Hampshire. She closed her eyes, squeezed back her tears, and silently prayed for her family. A moment later, she felt Micah’s hand close around hers.

They were well into Connecticut when her phone finally rang. She answered it and was surprised to hear Isak’s voice. Beryl could tell she’d been crying because she sounded congested and she was still very upset. “Thank you so much for doing this,” she said.

“Isak, you don’t have to thank me . . . How’s Matt? We’re going crazy . . .”

“Oh, Ber, he’s not good—he has three broken ribs, a collapsed lung, a broken collarbone, a broken ankle, and possible swelling on his brain. He’s still in surgery, and they said the next several hours will be critical.”

“Oh, Isak—I’m so sorry. We’re almost to Hartford,” she said, seeing the signs for Bradley Airport. “Do you want us to stop?”

“No—no,” Isak said. “I mean, I wish you could, but I need you to be there for the kids—is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay. By the way, can you give me Tommy’s number?”

Isak gave her the number and then paused. “Ber?”

“Mmmm?” she said, still writing.

There was no response, but Beryl could sense her sister’s agony through the phone.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Isak . . .”

“I know . . .”

“We’re on eighty-four and I can see the hospital. We’re praying for you and Matt and the kids, and we’ll be in Danbury in less than an hour.”

“I-I love you, you know,” Isak stammered.

“I know you do. I love you, too, sis,” Beryl said softly, surprised by her sister’s admission. “I’ll call as soon as we get there.”