More Than You Know (22 page)

33

A
t around midnight, Isak reassured Rumer—again—that she’d be fine, but after Rumer and Will reluctantly left with the boys, she’d slumped into the chair next to Matt’s bed, buried her face in her hands, and cried. She still couldn’t believe all that had happened; it seemed like a dream—a dream from which she couldn’t wake up. She looked at Matt’s face, though, and knew it wasn’t a dream. His cheekbones were bruised and his face was bandaged, his left leg was in a cast, he had an intravenous drip in his arm, an oxygen tube in his nose, and his heart rate and blood pressure were checked every few minutes—an event that startled her every time the machine started up.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, holding his hand. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.” She looked at Matt’s hands and thought of all the shoelaces they’d tied and all the Band-Aids they’d gently applied; she thought of all the blueberry pancakes they’d made on Sunday mornings and all the miracles they’d performed in the operating room; and she remembered, too, the pleasure they’d given her. “Please don’t take him from me,” she whispered. “He has so much more to do down here—he has two wonderful kids who need him, and he’ll have grandchildren who will run into his arms someday, and he has me—and I desperately need a second chance on getting this right.”

The nurses came in several times to check on Matt and encouraged Isak to lie down and try to rest. “No . . . no, thanks,” she answered, determined to stay by his side; but finally, she drifted off with her head on his blankets.

 

As the early-morning sky turned from azure blue to rosy peach, Isak stirred, feeling a gentle touch on her arm. She looked up and saw Matt smile weakly. Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, my goodness—you’re going to be okay,” she whispered in disbelief, squeezing his hand. His nod was almost imperceptible. “Oh, thank God,” she murmured, happy tears spilling down her cheeks.

The nurse came in, saw that he was awake, and hurried out. “I’ll be right back,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m just going to get the doctor.”

Isak turned back to him. His face was shadowed with anguish as he struggled to speak. “The . . . kids?” he whispered hoarsely.

Isak nodded. “They’re fine, baby—don’t you worry. Tommy was here last night; he’s sore but okay. And Meghan will be okay, too; she’s in Danbury with a broken wrist and Beryl is with her.”

Matt blinked, trying to understand. “You’re in Hartford,” she explained. “They airlifted you right from the accident, but they took the kids to Danbury by ambulance.” He nodded and closed his eyes. Isak brushed back her tears and reached into her pocket for her phone.

 

Beryl woke up to the sound of soft breathing and looked over at Micah, sleeping peacefully next to her. She smiled, and for the briefest of moments, luxuriated in the lovely, comforting feeling of waking up next to the body of someone she loved. Then she remembered how they’d come to be in the same bed—and the feeling was swept away by reality. Her phone beeped and she reached onto the nightstand to retrieve it. Flipping it open, she saw there was a message from Isak. She clicked on it and read:
matt’s awake!
She smiled and wrote right back:
that’s such great news!

At the very same moment, Rumer and Tommy saw the same message—and a collective shout of joy and relief spread from Danbury to Hartford. Beryl slipped out of bed, pulled a clean blouse from her overnight bag, found her jeans, and shuffled quietly to the bathroom.

When she came out, Micah was sitting on the end of the bed in his boxers, watching a rerun of
The Rifleman.
“Hey!” she said happily, telling him the good news. Then, in an afterthought, added, “Do you want to take a quick shower? Because it’s just hitting me how much we—
I
have to do. In all the commotion, I’ve put Mum’s service on the back burner—but I just realized, it’s tomorrow!”

“I know,” he said, reaching for his jeans. On his way to the bathroom, he stopped and gave her a hug. “Last night was really nice,” he said.

“It was,” she said, gently touching his cheek.

“I’ll be quick,” he said, kissing her forehead and heading for the shower.

 

After grabbing a few muffins from the hotel’s continental breakfast bar, they headed over to the hospital and found Meghan sitting up, having breakfast too. Her cheeks were pink and she looked much better. “Hi, Aunt Ber—I was beginning to wonder where everyone was. Is my dad okay?”

Beryl told her the latest news and she nodded, looking relieved. Then she introduced Micah and asked, “How’re you feeling?”

Meghan shook her head. “Like I’ve been hit by a Mack truck!” she said. “The medicine wore off, so I ache everywhere.”

Just then, the nurse came in. “How’re you doing with your breakfast, hon?” she asked, eyeing the untouched food. “You have to eat something, or they’re not going to let you out of here.”

Meghan groaned. “Do you have anything besides cold oatmeal?”

The nurse had her stethoscope in her ears, but when she finished taking her vitals, she said, “I’ll see what I can find.”

Four hours later, after Meghan had eaten half a ham sandwich and a couple of stale potato chips and Isak had been called
twice
to give permission for her daughter to be released into her sister’s care, they wheeled Meghan down to Micah’s waiting car, and Beryl helped her into the backseat, where Micah had moved some things to make room.

“Are you okay?” she asked, and Meghan nodded, leaning back on a pillow from her dorm room.

“Did you get ahold of your mom?” Beryl asked Micah as he pulled away.

“Yup, Flan and Thoreau are fine, although . . .”

He paused and Beryl looked up. “What?! What happened?”

“Well, my mom brought Charlotte and Harper over and I guess the two dogs really hit it off. They were running around together,” he explained, “and then Harper saw the pond . . . and, of course, Flan followed her.” He glanced over and saw Beryl’s raised eyebrows. “I guess things got a little messy.”

Beryl groaned. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Your poor mom, I’m sure that’s just what she needed. What did she do?”

“Well, she had a towel in her car.”

“One towel isn’t enough!”

“Well, she got Flannery cleaned up, and she said to tell you she’s sorry if she still tracked some mud in the kitchen.”

“She shouldn’t be sorry! I feel terrible. Flannery is always getting into mischief.”

“She wasn’t the troublemaker—Harper was.”

“Still,” Beryl protested.

“Aunt Ber, you still have Flannery?” Meghan asked from the backseat.

“Unfortunately,” Beryl said with a sigh.

Meghan smiled. “I love Flan! Oh, I can’t wait to see her!”

Beryl turned around and gazed at her beautiful niece, now battered and bruised. “I’m so glad you’re smiling, honey. She’ll love seeing you . . . and she hasn’t changed one bit!”

34

W
hen they arrived at the hospital, Matt was propped up against some pillows, looking very tired. The room was full of family, including Gretchen Taylor, his mom, and her friend Margaret. Tommy and Meghan were both glad to see their grandmother, and she couldn’t get over how grown up they were—even with their bumps and bruises. The nurse came in to check on Matt and announced there were too many visitors and her patient needed to get some rest. And, since it had already been decided that a large contingency was heading back to New Hampshire, the nurse’s prodding moved Beryl, Rumer, Will, and Rand to finally say good-bye to Matt, while Micah said he hoped to see him again when he was feeling better; Meghan and Tommy both navigated the tubes to give him a gentle hug, and Isak smiled and said she’d be right back.

The group reconvened in the hall and Isak revealed that, with Matt’s condition, she was thinking of not attending the service, but even before Rumer and Beryl could protest, Gretchen Taylor, overhearing her daughter-in-law, stepped forward and told her that she
would,
most definitely, be attending her mother’s funeral. Isak, who’d felt utterly torn until that moment, was taken aback by her mother-in-law’s assertiveness, but immediately saw the wisdom of her words—and later, she wondered how she’d even considered missing it.

“All right,” she said resignedly. “I’ll be there first thing in the morning.” With that, she hugged and thanked everyone and told them all she loved them.

 

Rand was sound asleep when Rumer and Will finally pulled in the driveway. “Leave him,” Will said as Rumer started to reach into the backseat. “He’s really tired.” They got out and Will looked up at the old farmhouse. “This is such a great old house. It’s a shame you and your sisters have to sell it.”

Rumer was surprised by her husband’s sentiment. “I know, I wish we didn’t,” she replied.

She started to walk up the path, but Will reached for her hand and pulled her back. “Ru, before everyone gets here, I want to—well, I want you to know how sorry I am for the way things have been lately—for the way I’ve acted. I know it hasn’t been easy for you.” Rumer nodded and he went on. “I just hate this financial hole we’re in, and I don’t know how to get us out of it—and that makes me a little crazy.”

Rumer swallowed. “I know, Will. It makes me crazy, too, but once we sell this house, some of the money will come our way and that’ll help.”

“If you’re
able
to sell it—and if we’re able to hold on that long,” he said, looking up at the peeling paint and rotting sills. “The house needs a lot of work.” He paused and shook his head. “That’s not what I wanted to talk about, though—I wanted to talk about us.” Rumer waited, and he continued, “Ru, I want to get back together.”

Rumer searched his eyes. “Will, there’s nothing I’d love more, but not if we’re going to keep fighting all the time—and not if it isn’t going to last, because we can’t keep doing this to Rand.” She paused. “You have to be absolutely sure.”

“I am sure,” he said, his eyes glistening. He looked up at the house again. “It’s kind of funny, but I’ve been thinking about your mom a lot over this past week—how she lived her life—and how she carried on, against all odds, raising three little kids by herself. She never let life’s problems get her down—right up to the very end. She had . . . gumption, and I think we could all use a little more of that,” he said with a smile. “We only have one kid—and we still have each other.... You’d think we’d be able to manage.”

Rumer laughed. “Oh, Will, you don’t know the half of it. She had more gumption than you think!”

Just then, Micah and Beryl pulled in, beeping their horn, and Rand’s head peered out the window. They’d stopped at the pharmacy before it closed to fill Meghan’s prescriptions, and although Tommy had begged to stop at Kimball’s, too, to grab a bite to eat, Beryl had told him to hang in there because there was plenty of food at the house and maybe they would go to Kimball’s for ice cream later.

Rand climbed sleepily out of the car and Tommy snuck up behind him and playfully lifted him off the ground. “Hey!” Rand shouted, giggling and squirming. Beryl and Micah helped Meghan up to the house, and when they pulled open the screen, they found Tommy, Rand, and Flannery already had their noses in the refrigerator.

“Uncle Will and Micah, do you want a beer?”

“No, thanks,” Micah said.

Will laughed. “Is that so you can have one too?”

“Sure, I’ll have one with you,” Tommy grinned, taking out two cold bottles with one hand and balancing the meat platter in the other. “Hey, cous, grab those deviled eggs, will ya?”

Rand, buoyed by his older cousin’s attention, pulled out the eggs and asked importantly, “What about the fruit salad?”

“Sure,” Tommy said. Then he remembered his manners. “Aunt Ber, is it okay if we eat this stuff?”

“Go to it!” she said, helping Meghan get comfortable. “There are rolls on the counter,” she added, filling a glass with water so Meghan could take her medicine.

Micah opened the door for Flannery, who’d been let out to take care of business, and she trundled right over to Meghan and sat on her foot. “I guess I’ve been replaced,” he observed gloomily.

“You haven’t been replaced,” Beryl said with a chuckle. “No one can replace
you,
” she consoled, handing Meghan her pill. “She’s just giving Meghan some sympathy.”

Meghan smiled and reached down to scratch Flannery’s head, and the old dog looked up adoringly. Micah witnessed the love and said sadly, “Nope, I’ve definitely been replaced.”

“Flan and I go way back,” Meghan said. “We’re just happy to see each other.”

Micah laughed. “Okay, well, I’m gonna head out, but I could use some help unloading my car.”

“Oh, I forgot!” Beryl said. Immediately everyone except Meghan stopped doing what they were doing and hurried out to help. They lugged in suitcases, duffel bags, a box of college textbooks, and Meghan’s desk light and laptop, which had both, except for the light bulb, miraculously survived the crash.

They set everything in the living room and then Beryl turned to Micah. “Are you sure you don’t want something to eat?”

“No, no thanks. I need to get home to see my pal.”

“I’ll walk back out with you.” She paused. “Meghan, you’re supposed to eat with your medicine. Did you?”

Meghan shook her head and Beryl spied Tommy at the counter with the rolls and meat platter. “Tommy, can you make your sister a sandwich?”

He nodded, his mouth full of deviled egg.

Rumer was back to warming up some of the casseroles and looked up. “Would you rather have some lasagna, hon? It’ll just be a minute—and you can have a deviled egg to tide you over.”

“That sounds good,” Meghan said.

“You don’t want one of my famous Dagwood sandwiches?” Tommy asked, feigning hurt.

Meghan rolled her eyes and Beryl looked at Micah. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay for all the fun?”

“I wish I could,” he said, “but responsibility calls.” He pushed open the screen door and Thoreau scooted in. “Bye, everyone,” he said.

A chorus of voices called out playfully, “Bye, Micah! Thank you!”

Beryl walked with him to his car. “Maybe you and Charlotte can meet us at Kimball’s Farm for ice cream later,” she suggested hopefully.

“That sounds good, if it’s not too late. I’ll have to see what kind of a day she’s had.” He opened his door. “I’m really glad Matt’s going to be okay.”

“So am I,” Beryl said, her voice sounding relieved. “Can you imagine?” She didn’t even want to finish the sentence. “Another drunk driver—it’s crazy!”

Micah nodded in agreement.

“It’s funny, though,” Beryl continued. “My mom used to say everything happens for a reason and there’s no such thing as coincidences. Serendipity, yes; coincidence, no. She always said every event was part of God’s tapestry. One side—the side we see as we stumble through life—looks like a confusing mass of interwoven thread, but on the other side—the side God sees— is a radiant, gorgeous work of art. And now, I can’t help but wonder if there’s a reason this happened.”

“I’ll have to think about that and see if I can come up with a reason for the things that have happened in my life.”

Beryl nodded and smiled sadly. “I guess sometimes we never understand why things happen, or what good comes . . .”

Micah pulled her into a hug and whispered, “I guess I can think of one good thing.”