Cody managed a smile. “You’re the grown-up. You get to decide.”
“I think it is better to know than to wonder. What do you think?”
“I want to know.” The smile faded. “I’m going to die, aren’t I? My mom says I’ll be okay, but she kinda has to, you know? It’s a mom thing.”
“Yes, it is.” Abram wasn’t sure what to say to the child. He was a great believer in the truth, but this wasn’t his son. “There are always questions about what will happen,” he said instead. “You’ve had a better run at the disease than many.”
“But I’m still going to die.”
“We’re all going to die.”
Cody closed his eyes. “That’s cheating. Don’t cheat. Then you’re just like everyone else.”
Abram pulled up a chair and sat next to the boy. “Yes,” he said slowly. “You will die.”
“Soon?”
“I don’t know. There’s so much I don’t know.”
Cody opened his eyes. “What’s it like to die?”
Abram considered the question. “I have no firsthand experience myself,” he began, only to stop when the child laughed softly.
“I think it would be bad to have a dead doctor,” Cody said with a chuckle. “Even a really good one.”
Abram smiled. “An excellent point. What I meant is I’m a research scientist, not a physician. My experience with dying is limited. I know you will be sedated at the end. You probably won’t know what’s happening. It will be like sleeping and then you’ll be gone.”
If he was lucky, Abram thought. For some, the pain could not be controlled. He found himself wanting to pray that Cody was one of the fortunate ones.
“It’ll be real hard for my mom. I’m the only one she has.”
“Death is most difficult on those left behind.”
“Thank you for trying,” Cody said. “I know my mom kind of forced you.”
“She reminded me about what was important.” As had Linda. “I will do everything I can to save you, Cody. I have a whole team working on a cure. We all think about you and pray for your recovery.”
“Sweet.” He shifted, then winced. “Maybe they could do something to make it not hurt so much.”
“We’ll put that on the list.”
A nurse walked in. “It’s time for more medication. How does that sound?”
“Good. I’m tired.”
“I’ll bet you are.” The nurse looked at him. “And you are?”
“That’s Dr. Wallace,” Cody said. “He’s going to cure me.”
“Lucky you.”
Abram held out the bottles. “There are instructions on each of them. The order and the timing is very important. You’ll find the approval is already in the chart.”
He rose. “Goodbye for now, Cody. I hope to see you soon.”
“Me, too. And if you don’t find a cure, I’ll let you know what it’s like to die. So if you have to, you can tell another kid it’s okay.”
Abram didn’t know what to say to that. Unexpected emotion flooded him, making it difficult to speak. He nodded at both of them, then walked out. When he was in the hallway, he leaned against the wall and tried to catch his breath.
He needed a miracle, he thought grimly. A last-minute reprieve. But as far as he knew, there weren’t any in sight. If only he‘d started sooner. If only Cody Sullivan’s disease hadn’t progressed so far. If only…
In science there were no if onlys. Just the truth and protocol and more attempts to find the answer. Which left the very real possibility that they were all going to be too late to save the boy.
KERRI DID HER BEST to relax. Linda had shown up at the hospital and insisted she go home to her own bed, at least for a couple of hours. In theory it was a good idea, but Kerri couldn’t stop thinking about Cody, which made it impossible to sleep.
Everything hurt. Her whole body ached because her son was dying and she couldn’t do anything about it. She could only stand by his side and pretend to be strong. It sucked. The whole damn situation sucked.
She sat, then rose to her feet and walked into the living room. Tim and Lance looked up from their card game.
“Too wound up?” Lance asked.
“Too everything.”
“Want a foot massage?”
Despite everything, Kerri smiled. “You are the sweetest man I know.”
“Actually I was offering Tim’s services. He does an excellent foot massage.”
“Something other people don’t need to know,” the burly driver muttered.
“Fear not. I’ll pass, although I’m tempted. I’m going to make some tea. You guys want anything?”
“We’re good,” Tim told her.
As she crossed the living room, someone knocked on her front door. Her body clenched as she wondered if Nathan had returned. He’d gone back to Seattle the day before but had promised to return. She’d told him it wasn’t necessary, but he’d insisted and she knew he always kept his word.
She pulled the door open, then frowned when she saw an unfamiliar woman standing there. Who was…
“Frankie?” she asked, recognizing Nathan’s sister. “What are you doing here?”
She looked pale and oddly intense. There was something about her eyes that caused Kerri to take a step back. Then Frankie raised a gun and pointed it at Kerri’s head.
“So you know who I am. It’s because he talks about me, right? You both talk about me and you laugh because I’m so pathetic. You think I’m a joke, but I’m not. I’m someone you have to take seriously.
“Bitch!” she screamed. “Bitch! It’s your fault. It’s all your fault.”
Lance shrieked and Tim stood. Frankie kept the gun on Kerri.
“Move and she dies. I’m crazy so I’ll do it. Just ask my brother. He’s here, right? I knew he’d be here. He cares about you and that kid. He never cared about me. Even though he pretended to. I believed him. Stupid, huh? He was always smarter than me. That’s why he went away. That’s why he left me. He knew I didn’t matter. But I matter now.”
Kerri’s heart pounded so hard and fast that it hurt. She barely breathed, not wanting to upset Frankie. And yet a part of her recognized the pain in the other woman. A deep, permanent wound, maybe because she carried a similar scar herself.
“I know how bad it feels,” she said quietly. “To lose someone you love.”
“We are nothing alike,” Frankie yelled. “Don’t think you can make friends with me. We are not friends.”
“I know. We’re strangers who have both been hurt. I was left, too. My husband died. It’s horrible. It’s like a big hole no one else can see. You keep waiting for people to notice and they don’t.”
Frankie blinked and the gun dipped. From the corner of her eye Kerri saw Tim inch closer. Then Frankie straightened her arm.
“You can’t talk me down, so don’t even try. I want Nathan destroyed. I have to make him suffer. If I can’t destroy his business, maybe I can destroy someone he cares about. Maybe I can destroy you.”
The terror was much colder than Kerri had expected. “I don’t care about myself,” she breathed, willing the other woman to understand. “But my son is dying. Please, he can’t be alone now. He can’t.”
“Daniel died. I loved him. I loved him so much and I hated him because Nathan loved him, too.” Frankie began to tremble. “I was happy when he died. I was happy because Nathan hurt, but then I missed him. He loved me. No one else loved me. Nathan went away. Did he tell you? Did he tell you about the blood? It’s not like in the movies.”
Frankie took a step back, but she kept the gun aimed at Kerri’s face. “I have to count. One, two, three…” She kept counting, her breathing uneven, her body shaking more and more.
“Oh God,” she cried, reaching out her other arm so she could hold the gun with both hands. “It hurts. It hurts so much.”
She dropped without warning, falling to her knees and letting the gun fall away. “Help me. Help me. I can’t be sick like this anymor
e.”
Tim grabbed the gun. “Call nine-one-one,” he told Lance, and held the weapon on Frankie.
Kerri ignored him and moved toward the other woman. She knelt down and wrapped her arms around her.
“We’ll find a way to make the pain fade,” Kerri told her, both relieved and heartbroken. “We’ll get you help. We all want to help.”
“Nathan?”
“Yes. Nathan. Your brother most of all. He didn’t forget, Frankie. He was young and stupid, but he didn’t forget.”
Frankie began to cry. Kerri held her even after she heard sirens in the distance. She held her through the questioning, the explanations and the argument about whether or not to arrest her or take her to the hospital. She held her until Nathan arrived and took his sister into his arms.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
NATHAN WATCHED Jason and the D.A.’s conversation, unable to tell what was happening by the looks on their faces. If only he’d learned to lip-read, he thought grimly. On the one hand, there was the temptation to make an example of a rich man’s family member. Holding Frankie could make for good political coverage.
On the other hand, no one was going to press charges. Kerri hadn’t even wanted the police to take his sister away, and neither Lance nor Tim was interested in having Frankie in jail. But she had gone after someone with a gun. That was going to be tough to overlook.
He paced the long corridor, wanting to go into the meeting and demand they all listen. Dumb idea, he told himself. He would only make things worse. He had to let Jason do his job. But he’d never been a patient man and the time went slowly.
As he walked back and forth, he wondered about Kerri. How was she holding up? She’d been brave and determined for days now, staying with Cody, trying to push all her strength into her son. She was driven by love and fear, a powerful combination. He wished he could help, but there was little any of them could do but wait for a miracle that might never come.
Jason walked out of the office and motioned him closer. “He’ll deal,” he said. “As long as you’re willing to put Frankie into a residential facility for at least three months, then monitor her care when she leaves. She’s going to have to stay in therapy and on any required medication for at least two years.”
“Not a problem.”
Jason looked at him. “This means being responsible for her, Nathan. You can’t pass this off to a secretary.”
The latter was his friend speaking, not his attorney. “I understand. I’ll take care of her.”
“Then as soon as you find a place, she’s free to go. They’ll hold the case open until she completes her preliminary treatment, then they’ll drop the charges. It’s a good deal.”
“I agree. I’ve been making calls. I know where I want her to go. It’s just outside of Portland. One of the best facilities on the West Coast. They have an excellent success rate.”
“Give me the phone number and contact information. They’ll have to fax us proof of admission before she’ll be released.”
While Jason went to take care of that, Nathan returned to the jail where he waited in a small room to see his sister.
Frankie looked small and frightened when she walked into the room. He rose, thought about hugging her, but then waited for her to make the first move. She looked at everything but him, then dropped her gaze to her feet.
“You have two choices,” he told her, wishing things were different. That he could hug her or tease her or make her laugh. He hated all the distance between them even as he acknowledged that he’d been the one to put it there. “You can be charged with felony assault or you can go into treatment.”
“No one wants to be locked away,” she said quietly, still not looking at him.
“I know. But, Frankie, this place is nice. The rooms are large and airy. They have real chefs preparing the food and you’ll get the help you need. It’s not scary.”
“Easy for you to say. You won’t be the one locked up.”
“You need help.”
She raised her head then and glared at him. “You think I don’t know that? You think I can’t see what’s happening to me? The ways that I’ve changed? But I needed to be that way to survive.”
“You don’t anymore.”
“You don’t know that.”
He ignored her comment. “The place is just outside of Portland, which is good because I’ll be coming down a lot.” He shrugged. “The doctor I spoke to made it very clear I have issues, too. We’ll work through them together.”
She stared out the small window. Tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks. “I can’t trust you,” she murmured. “Not ever again. I can’t. I won’t. You’ll just leave again.”
His throat tightened. “I can’t convince you with words, so I’m just going to have to show you I’m not going anywhere. Please, Frankie. Don’t turn this down. It has to be better than jail, right?”
She nodded slowly, then shuffled toward the door. “When do I leave?”
“In a couple of hours. They won’t let me visit for a while.”
“How convenient.”
He held in the instant anger. “I can come in two weeks to visit. I’ll be there.”
“Don’t bother.”
He didn’t know if she really would rather he left her alone, or if she was assuming he would let her down again. Maybe it was a little of both.
“I’ll be there,” he said. “You can refuse to see me, but I’ll be there.”
She reached for the door handle, then turned back to him. “Tell her I’m sorry I scared her like that. I wouldn’t have hurt her. She wasn’t the one.”
Because the one his sister wanted to hurt was him. “I’ll tell her. For what it’s worth, she already knows.”
“Everyone likes to hear an apology.”
She opened the door and left.
“YOU’RE ASKING us to break the law,” the doctor said sternly.
Kerri had a feeling he used the same tone when he was scolding his children for making too much noise at bedtime.
“I’m asking you to keep a nine-year-old boy from dying,” she said. “I’ve signed the necessary paperwork, so this is a gray area at best. What is more important than that?”
The specialists exchanged looks. “Sometimes you have to be willing to let go, Mrs. Sullivan. For the sake of the patient.”
She’d known it was going to come to this. Linda had shown up with a list of instructions from Dr. Wallace. There were combinations of medications to be tried, supplements, a radical change in diet, not that Cody was eating anything, and incredibly high doses of morphine for the pain.
“I’m curious how you think giving up helps my son,” Kerri said. “I thought your job was to save people.”
“What Dr. Wallace is suggesting is beyond radical. It’s risky.”
“Isn’t Cody dying anyway? As for doing no harm, explain chemo to me. Aren’t good cells killed, as well? There are many treatments that do harm. The theory is they do more good in the long run so we accept the potential for harm. That’s what we’re doing here. If this works, thousands of other children will be spared. Either you do what Dr. Wallace says or I’m taking Cody away.”
The doctors stared at her. “You can’t do that.”
“Of course I can. He can get quality private medical care at home. I would rather he not be moved, but don’t push me, gentlemen. I will do anything to save him and you can’t stop me.”
“Private care is prohibitively expensive,” one of them told her.
As if she didn’t know. “Do you think money matters to me?”
“You’ll destroy yourself financially.”
“So what?”
“They won’t send out private duty nurses if you can’t afford them.”
“She can.”
Those words came from behind her. Kerri turned and saw Nathan walking toward her. Relief left her weak and trembling. When he put his arm around her, she leaned against him and enjoyed the reprieve.
“I’ll
pay for it,” Nathan said. “If you’re going to help, then help. If not, get the hell out of the way.”
The doctors looked at each other again. “Fine,” one of them said. “We’ll get started on the regimen. But know that there is no reason to think it’s going to work.”
They walked away. Kerri watched them go.
“I guess in their own way, they’re trying to help,” she said. “Thanks for coming to my defense.”
“No problem.”
“Dr. Wallace wants to try some different protocols. I have no idea if they’ll work.” She tried to shake off the exhaustion clinging to her like wet clothes. Most nights sleep was impossible. She was always getting up to check on Cody. “How did it go with the D.A.?”
“He’ll drop the charges if she gets treatment.”
“Oh good,” Kerri said, knowing Frankie was very much the victim. “Jail wouldn’t help at all. Did you find a place?”
“Yes. She’s on her way there right now. I can’t go see her for a couple of weeks. I hope it helps. I want my sister back.” He shook his head. “Not that she would believe me. Not after how I’ve ignored her.”
“You both have a lot to work through, but this is a first step.”
One corner of his mouth twisted. “I have to go into therapy, too. That’s the deal with the facility. They gave me a list of therapists that are approved.”
Nathan? In therapy? She couldn’t begin to imagine it. “I’m sure it will be helpful. I’ve always believed we’re all crazy to greater or lesser degrees.”
“You’re not helping and stop grinning.”
She laughed. “Am I?”
“Yes, and I don’t appreciate it.”
“This is obviously a sensitive topic. I won’t mention your therapy again. But while you’re healing spiritually, you might want to think about yoga. I hear it’s wonderful. Or knitting. It’s such a relaxing hobby.”
His gaze narrowed. “You’re not funny.”
“Yes, I am.”
Accidentally Yours Page 24
