Twice in a Lifetime (Love Found) (15 page)

Jake sat beside her in the hallway, his voice low as he murmured into his phone. The glare of harsh fluorescent lighting filtered down from panels hidden in the ceiling.

“Trey’s all right. Maddie said it was fine if he stayed another night. I only told her that Ben was in an accident and we were with him.”

She reached for his hand and threaded their fingers together. “Thank you. I’ll call them again later. After we know more.”

Equipment beeped all around them and visitors shuffled past. A young boy cried in his father’s arms, his arm wrapped in a bloody dish towel. Doctors and nurses darted efficiently from one room to the next. Medicinal smells collided with antibacterial cleaners.

Allie sprang from her chair and peeked in Ben’s room yet again. Still asleep. Marilyn—the nurse’s name badge wore a smiley-face sticker—fussed around the bed.

Jake would return any minute with coffee “I promise not to bother.” She offered Marilyn a smile and hovered in the opening to the room. The nurse simply smiled and went about her business.

“How’s he doing?” Jake came up behind her, offering two small plastic cups of creamer and a paper cup with a plastic lid. “Here you go. It’s not too bad.” Eyebrows drawn and eyes clouded, he stood beside her in Ben’s doorway, sipping from his cup.

Poor Jake, he was so worried about Ben. But she didn’t know how to make it better. She sipped, leaned against him and let the tension drain from her shoulders.

He held his paper cup in one hand. His other hand was cool when she reached for it to check his watch. Midnight—three hours since they arrived. People zipped in and out of Ben’s cubicle regularly, doctors and nurses and lab personnel. And once orderlies in matching scrubs wheeled Ben out, not returning for forty five minutes. He was getting plenty of attention. But they were ignored.

Jake jerked awake when Marilyn left Ben’s cubicle and drew to a stop beside him. She glanced at her watch, her quiet smile tempering his pounding heart.

“It’s late, almost two a.m., but he’s finally conscious.”

At his nudge Allie’s eyes flew open, but he was already standing. “Humpty Dumpty’s awake.”

The assessment Ben’s physician gave them when he finally stopped by was brief yet overwhelming. He tossed out terms like contusions, abrasions and lacerations, so the white gauze dressings covered Ben’s head, arms and chest were expected. But apparently there were indications of internal bleeding and swelling in his brain to be dealt with as well, probably requiring surgery. He was given a head CT hours ago.

Jake’s throat burned. “We’re here, buddy.” From the far side of the bed, he placed his hand on Ben’s shoulder. His eyes were glassy with pain. He grimaced when he tried to turn his head. “The doctor will come in and talk to you and Allie in a minute, explain what’s going on.”

Ben’s eyes blinked, then skittered to search out his wife. “I love you, Allie.” His rasp was slow, deliberate, but they could understand him. “I’m sorry. Tell Trey I’m sorry.” His fingers stirred against the mattress.

Her hand quickly found his on the sheet, and she hovered over him, stroking it with her thumb. “I know sweetheart. I’ll tell him. He knows.”

His chest was tight. He stood to leave, they needed privacy. He was nearly run down in the doorway.

“Good evening, I’m Doctor Carter. I’ll be the neurosurgeon handling Mr. Tate’s case.” The knot of anxiety that swept in with the doctor was just as quickly swept away by his confidence and energy. Jake let out a slow breath.

The doctor dropped into one of the chairs lining the wall and lowered his readers from their perch on his forehead. He glanced at the notes in his hand and replaced the glasses with the push of a finger. “As Doctor Fielding forewarned, we’ll be taking Mr. Tate into surgery soon. There will be additional surgeons in the room to assist with abdominal bleeding and anything else that may arise.” The doctor spoke with authority for several minutes, for a lifetime, even as he nodded to the nurse who followed him in and proceeded to check Ben’s IV.

“According to test results, I have a clear indication of the extent of the damage. I’d like to outline the procedures I plan to follow.” He stood and opened his tablet. Jake and Allie crowded around. “Let me show you what I have in mind.”

With each of Doctor Carter’s diagrams and detailed explanations, Jake’s pulse took a slow and steady climb. All color drained from Allie’s face. He shoved her into a chair beside Ben’s bed. When he was finished, the doctor strolled to the edge of the curtain and turned back before stepping out. “The risks involved with this surgery are great. I expect it to last several hours.” He glanced toward the nurse. “In the meantime I’m ordering more medication.”

And for the first time fear sunk its gnarly fist into Jake’s midsection and twisted.

Jake stood near the curtain. Doctor Carter was already halfway down the hall. He moved to stand beside Ben’s bed and gave him a smile. He meant it to be reassuring.

Ben’s eyelids drooped. Probably the new medication. “Hey Jake, I need to call in a favor.”

His heart ached at the strain in Ben’s voice. He inched closer and took his hand. “What now? No way will I loan you my truck.” The jest fell flat, landed with a thud in his gut as Allie watched them from across the room. He studied Ben with what he was afraid was desperation looming in his eyes.

Ben gestured for him to lean closer still, lifted a hand to hook it behind his neck, locking their eyes together.

“I screwed things up bad.” Ben’s words were weak and grated against his throat. “I have to take care of this now, before I… go.”

Ben’s eyes bore into him, piercing and insistent. He would do anything to take away his pain.

“You’ve always been my best friend. If something happens—if I don’t come back—I need you to look after them. Allie and Trey.”

Jake jerked with a start, but Ben’s grip held.

“You’re the best person I know, Jake. Much better than I am.” His glance found Allie, then skittered back. Jake followed his gaze. “You’ve loved her as long as I have.” The quiet seriousness on his mangled face was heartbreaking. Every word was an obvious effort. “It’s your turn now, Jake. Take good care of her. Promise me.”

Guilt swamped him. The least he could do was look his friend in the eye. He cleared his throat, took hold of Ben’s hand again. And let fear fuel his anger. It was the only defense he had. “Bullshit, Ben. You don’t need any promises from me. You’ll be good as new in no time. Take care of her yourself.”

Shooting his hands up he spun, took a step back. He had to turn away. It was unthinkable that Ben would ask that of him. Absurd that he would consider it. He swiped at his eyes, which were flooded. But he would make that promise to Ben.

Because there was nothing he would rather do.

Jake stepped away from the bed and Ben sagged into the pillow. Allie edged closer. The soft beeps of the machines blended into the sounds coming from the adjacent treatment rooms. A tray clattered. Someone rushed down the corridor, their soft-soled shoes slapping the tiles. Her lips brushed over his, which were swollen and cracked, his fingers were cold in her hands. She was probably hurting him, but she couldn’t let go.

He would be fine. He had to be fine. Hot tears drenched her eyes. The pressure on her chest made it hard to breathe. “I love you, sweetheart. Go to sleep. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

Ben’s hand stretched out to caress her cheek. He would want to touch her dimple. He held her, loved her with his eyes, and spoke without turning away from her. “Can you give us a minute, Jake?”

Jake dropped a hand on Ben’s blanketed foot and then left, pulling the curtain closed behind him.

She hovered over Ben, her hand resting on the metal side rail of the bed, tears dripping onto the covers, leaving splotches on the white sheet. He pulled her hand from the rail, lowered it to his chest. “If everything’s not—”

“You’ll be—”

He cut her off with his eyes. His voice was weak, soft and breathy. If only she could will her strength into him.

“You’re so beautiful.” He grimaced a crooked smile. In there was Ben’s smile. “And I’m so proud of Trey. I wish—” His voice faded. He closed his eyes and wobbled his head. “But mostly, I’m so damned sorry.”

Her tears started fresh. His eyes opened, his gaze was unfocused. “Jake will be alone now, Allie. Take good care of him.”

There was no controlling her tears, and the splotches on the sheet grew. The tissue she used to mop her eyes, to blow into, was useless against the stream running down her face. She nodded. “I promise.” She would swear anything if it would bring him back to her.

When his eyes drifted shut, she wiped the tears from her cheeks, and his. There were so many things they would do when he was well. So many things she would tell him.

His injuries weren’t the only tragedy of his accident. It was time she realized that the resentment she’d buried all these years was petty and selfish. Acid wearing away the tender lining of their marriage.

Jake peeked through the curtain.

“Come on in, he’s asleep.” She held out a hand for him, then closed her eyes against the comfort of his arm draped across her shoulders.

“I called Bentley a few minutes ago. Nick too.” Her murmured words came from her place beside him on a cold vinyl sofa. “Let them know about the accident and the surgery. Bentley said he’d leave a message with his secretary and come down right away. My parents and brother are on their way, too.”

“Have you spoken with Trey? Or Maddie?”

Trey. Her hands twisted in her lap. “I gave Michael an update. You remember Maddie’s husband? He and Ben have been friends for years.”

“Of course.”

“He offered to bring Trey over. Oh, they’re here.” She stood.

They entered as a crowd, their voices raising and lowering as they greeted each other and then settled into seats to wait. Her eyes swept the room. Small groups of mismatched chairs sat in clusters. Low tables held scattered magazines. A nearby counter held a florist’s vase of deep red roses, periodically she caught their scent. Other families sat nearby, talking quietly, waiting for word of their loved ones.

A flat screen was mounted to the far wall, broadcasting the latest happenings in the Middle East in closed captions. Jake leaned forward in his chair, his elbows braced on his knees, studying a young child playing with blocks across the room. He glanced over his shoulder at her, then nodded at the child. “Almost hard to remember when Trey was that small.”

It certainly was right now with his gangly arms draped over the back of the adjacent chair and his lanky legs kicked out under the coffee table. The elevator chimed in the hallway. She lifted her eyes to check the clock on the wall. Ben had been in surgery three hours already.

Doctor Carter, the surgeon they met during the wee hours of the morning rounded the corner flanked by another man. Shoulder to shoulder they paused in the doorway and searched the room.

With deliberate movements she uncrossed her legs and stood. Jake unfolded beside her.

She pressed her shaking hands together as he neared. He wore blue scrubs and throwaway booties, and his mask hung from ties caught behind his neck. In his hands he mangled a matching cotton skullcap.

His somber expression had her eyes welling. She reached for Trey, tugged him close. Ben was fine. Ben was fine. Ben was
fine
.

It was important to concentrate. The timbre of the doctor’s voice as it rose and fell was like an echo bobbing in a deep well. Her throat thickened and stung and her ears clogged and the sound became an animated
wah, wah, wah
. She closed her eyes. Now she could focus on his words as they stuttered through her silly tears.

“I’m sorry…”

Her eyes flew open.

“…everything in our power…”

Her sobs unleashed when Jake hauled her into his arms and crushed Trey between them.

“No, No, No!”
Someone cried out.

“Despite our best efforts…”

It was her. Her knees were weak.

“No! Stop!”

“…didn’t make it.”

Jake guided her as she crumpled to the sofa.

“…dead.”

The doctor quieted. And stood before them.

Trey’s bleak eyes were huge in his face, their indigo irises flooded. Jake’s hold firmed around them both. Tears flowed down his anguished face.

There was no escaping the truth.

Her heart, her soul, her Ben, would never return to her.

He was gone.

The aroma of fresh coffee assailed Allie as she followed Trey into their home on the arm of her father-in-law. Mourners milled throughout, talking quietly in small groups. Some juggled paper plates laden with food, others held disposable cups of punch or coffee. She let her arm fall away from Bentley, and with a nudge from her, Trey followed his grandfather toward the kitchen, loosening his tie as they ran the gauntlet.

Her mother immediately replaced Bentley, warm and comforting, guiding her to a comfortable armchair. Allie adjusted the skirt of her simple black dress and sat stoically, her hands quiet in her lap. Someone she didn’t recognize brought her a cup of punch. She ghosted a smile, then set it on the table near her, untouched.