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Up Close And Gone

Page 20

by Jennie Spallone


  Detective Hernandez mumbled into her radio. “Tell the police to stand down. Hostage under control.”

  “Un-cuff my son and let me take him home,” said Alan.

  “No fuckin’ way, and don’t you dare say ‘language’!” shouted Shana. “We’ve been doing everything possible to save Daniel’s life. Reality is, my son kidnapped me and left me in the woods to die!”

  “But you didn’t die, did you?” Alan said calmly. “And you’ve only sustained a minor cut on your cheek, so….”

  Detective Hernandez blocked the doorway. “Nobody’s going anywhere.”

  David hobbled towards Daniel. “You promised not to harm my wife.”

  “Harm her? I wanted to save her, just like my dad saved my mom.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked David.

  “Dementia caused my mom to lose her mind and bodily functions. She was even forgetting how to swallow. She was fading fast. My dad wanted me to be free of her. To live my life. But he didn’t want to wait for God to finish the job, so he removed her breathing tube, just like he did my brother.”

  A collective gasp filled the room.

  Alan’s face paled. “How did you…?”

  “You did what you had to do to free mom and me both.”

  Alan buried his head in his arms.

  “When mom was still able to talk, she called me ‘Justin.’ She kept apologizing for letting you remove my breathing tube—Justin’s breathing tube.”

  Alan sighed. “Your mom and the doctor agreed that I remove your brother’s breathing tube; his organs were slowly shutting down and we wanted to spare him hours of needless suffering before his encroaching death. Even the rabbi agreed it was the compassionate thing to do. But deep within, I tormented myself with the possibility that unhooking that tube freed me and Mom from being consigned to a living hell should Justin have miraculously survived.”

  Shana shivered upon hearing his confession. But who was she to judge? Hadn’t she also done what she did for her baby’s greater good?

  “I performed that same last compassionate step for your mother, as well.”

  Detective Hernandez stepped in front of Alan. “Hold out your wrists, sir.”

  Alan’s jaw dropped. “Wh-a-t?”

  The detective snapped the handcuffs. “Illinois’ euthanasia laws do not permit mercy killings. They only allow signed, dated, and witnessed Do Not Resuscitate directives.”

  “But my wife did agree to removing all death delaying procedures,” Alan protested.

  “Did she put it in writing?”

  “No, but we discussed it as she went downhill.”

  “No paper trail, you’re SOL,” said the detective.

  “What mean this SOL?” interrupted Aamer.

  “Shit out of luck,” David said loudly. Everybody turned to stare.

  “I do speak up every now and then!”

  “It’s okay, Mom would understand,” Daniel whispered. “Only God is perfect.”

  Becca looked him straight in the eye. “Did you even bother to consider that your actions may have caused our sister to go into premature labor? Do you feel guilty that at this very moment your niece’s existence might be in jeopardy?”

  Daniel appeared shell-shocked.

  “But taking revenge on my mom for abandoning you was more important.”

  Daniel covered his eyes. “I don’t know.”

  They all watched Detective Hernandez read both Daniel and Alan their Miranda rights and escort them to two police officers waiting in the hall.

  Becca rushed from the room. Shana suspected she was going to check on Rachel. She began to inch herself out of bed, prepared to go after her, when the detective reentered the room. “Daniel and Alan Stewart will be held in custody overnight. Considering the seriousness of these offenses, the judge probably will hold them without bond.”

  Shana directed her gaze to the detective. “Will I be forced to testify against my son?”

  “I’d discuss that with an attorney, if I were you,” said the detective. “The DA will probably have enough evidence to prosecute, either way.” The detective strode out of the room.

  “Are you nuts?” David asked, his voice incredulous. “Daniel admitted to stabbing his birth father. He attacked a police officer. He held all of us hostage. And you don’t want to testify against him in a court of law?”

  Shana put her hand on his cheek. “Right now, I need to check on my daughter and grandbaby.”

  Aamar stepped forward. “It is time for me to bid you salaam. Peace. May we meet again in better times.”

  Ugh! Discussing all this private stuff in front of Aamer was not smart. He’d tell Oma, then she’d tell Zander, then he’d tell Rachel, then….

  David stopped her ruminations. “You cannot let Daniel go free,” said David.

  Shana eyed her husband with a new respect. Her sleeping bear, awakened from a forty-year hibernation. If only he understood her reticence. “He is my son, David. Wouldn’t you move heaven and earth if, God forbid, it was Rachel or Becca?”

  “Rachel and Becca wouldn’t be stupid enough to pull shit like that.”

  “Language,” she snickered. “Feeling lost and abandoned makes people do weird things.”

  “There’s no way you can excuse his actions!”

  “Nobody’s talking ‘excuse.’ But is jail the right place for him?”

  “That’s up to a judge and jury to determine, not you. Right now, we have a daughter and grandbaby to worry about.”

  Sighing, Shana pressed the nurse’s button.

  The nurse hurried into the room. “What do you need?”

  “Please bring me a wheelchair. I need to get to the maternity ward.”

  “Will do.”

  Shana and David watched her exit the room.

  “You coming along?”

  “We need to talk.”

  For the first time in years, her husband was making a proactive communication overture about something deep. Brave new world. “Afterward. I promise.”

  Shana wondered whether their talk would produce positive or negative consequences for their relationship. Their marriage was definitely worth fighting for.

  Chapter 65

  Shana

  Shana’s eyes sparkled as she peered through the glass incubator. Weighing in at 2.5 pounds, Kensington lay attached to a vast assortment of needle-sized tubes and monitors, as well as a breathing apparatus. But as far as she was concerned, her grandbaby was perfect. “She’s beautiful!”

  Her oldest daughter squeezed her hand. Then she reached through a tiny opening in the incubator to touch her infant’s fingers. “I can’t believe she really came out of me,” she cooed.

  Shana watched Zander reach through another hole to touch the baby’s feet. He and Rachel would be loving parents, this she knew without doubt.

  Becca made kissing sounds through a third opening.

  “Honey, you probably don’t want to breathe into the baby’s sterile space,” Shana suggested hesitantly. Now that her most recent escapade was over, she didn’t want to cause any tension with her daughters by offering unsolicited advice.

  “Mom’s right,” Rachel said softly. “We all sanitized our hands and phones before entering the Neonatal Unit.”

  “So now we need to sanitize our breath?” Becca joked.

  “Don’t breathe into the incubator and you don’t have to worry,” Shana said lightly. Worriedly, she glanced at her daughters; they were too enamored with the baby to acknowledge her comment.

  “She is the teensiest, tiniest, most gorgeous thing,” her son-in-law marveled.

  “The doctor says she’s a real fighter,” boasted Rachel.

  David hugged their son-in-law. “She comes from strong stock.”

  Oma, Zander’s mom, entered the h
ospital room, depositing an edible fruit basket on the sink counter. “How is our baby today?”

  Shana gave her a welcoming smile. “Doctor says her condition is stable, thank God.”

  Zan maneuvered around the incubator, taking pics of the baby from his phone. “She’s gotta stay in the hospital for six to ten weeks, until her lungs develop and she can breathe on her own.”

  “They’re making sure Kensington doesn’t have any brain bleeds, and that all her organs are functioning okay,” said Rachel. “Ooh, I can’t wait to be able to pick her up.”

  “I thought you’re nursing, Rach,” said Becca.

  “Her milk hasn’t come in yet,” said Zan. “Volunteers are expressing milk. Then that milk goes through a tiny tube and into the baby’s nostrils.”

  David looked impressed. “You sure know a lot about nursing.”

  “That’s ‘cause he breastfeeds,” teased Rachel.

  Zan grinned at her daughter. “You wish.”

  “Your fruit basket looks yummy!” said Becca.

  “All mamas know food is at the heart of every celebration,” said Oma.

  Shana bit into a chocolate covered pineapple lollipop. “It’s crazy that Kenzie’s already been on this earth for two days.”

  Zan playfully poked Rachel in the shoulder. “Told you everybody’s going to call her Kenzie.”

  Rachel poked him back. “That’s not happening.”

  Becca giggled. “You are such a control freak.”

  Which was just what Shana had been thinking.

  “My baby, my rules.”

  “I wasn’t in on making that rule,” said Zan.

  “Your rules don’t count,” Rachel said, her tone snarky.

  Shana and David exchanged glances. See? It’s not always my fault, she wanted to tell him. Instead she kept mum, thankful that this family gathering had not been convened for a different purpose. Gazing at her whole family gathered together in this room of new beginnings, she experienced a feeling of pure bliss.

  A voice boomed from the hallway. Aamer crossed the threshold. “Praise Allah, today has come.”

  If Shana had entered the room before thoroughly washing her hands, she’d be dead meat. But she kept her mouth shut and let the dice fall where they may.

  Oma intercepted her husband as he stepped inside. “Did you scrub your hands for five minutes?”

  “I need no washing of hands. I bring gift for baby, then I go.”

  Oma groaned. “You must wash your hands before you come in so the baby does not catch your germs.” She steered him back into the hallway.

  David hobbled over to where Shana stood munching a chocolate covered cherry. “You all right?” he whispered. “You haven’t said more than a couple of words to Rachel today.”

  “I’m getting there,” she promised.

  Her husband turned to the rest of the family. “We’re going to the snack machine. Anybody want anything?”

  No thanks echoed through the room. David ushered her out of the room and into the hallway. “Getting where? You can’t still be obsessing about the argument you and the girls had at the restaurant!”

  “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” Shana pouted.

  “You know I love you.”

  “Really, ‘cause you haven’t told me for a long time.”

  “Yeah, well you were off getting kidnapped and tortured, so….”

  Shana giggled at his gallows humor. “True, I have been incognito for a few days.”

  David’s voice turned serious. “What were you thinking, storming out of the restaurant and into unfamiliar surroundings without a phone or money?”

  Shana shrugged. “I felt abandoned. I didn’t care what happened to me. I didn’t think you guys cared, either.”

  “There you go, playing the victim card again. Nobody appreciates me. It’s not always all about you.”

  “You’re right,” she admitted.

  Her husband looked taken aback. “I am?”

  “I have been acting like a victim since the kids were young. They had no problem opening their mouths at me, but for you, they were perfect.”

  “I wouldn’t say perfect,” David countered.

  “Over the years, you continually sided with them over me in every argument.”

  “You’re exaggerating,” he protested.

  “Perception is reality, like shooting your photos from different angles, right?”

  He began to respond but she shushed him with one finger—not the middle one. “I’m a retired journalist, a wife, the mother of two grown kids, a first-time grandparent. No longer can I lazily allow words to fall from my tongue because I know you guys can’t fire me.

  “I need to stop giving advice unless asked for, and to choose more carefully the questions I ask and the comments I make, thinking first how those personal questions and comments may strike others in our family.”

  David eyes widened. “Can I get this down in writing?”

  “That said, I no longer will be at everybody’s beck and call. You guys have proved you can stand on your collective feet quite well without my butting in.”

  “Wait while I get the kids. They need to hear this.”

  “Shut up and let me finish.”

  “You doing the Gettysburg address, or what?” he joked.

  She gave him the death stare.

  David raised his hands in surrender.

  “Lastly, I will be visiting my son in jail—in prison, if it comes to that. I don’t want to hear any backlash from you, got it?”

  David’s posture stiffened.

  “You don’t want me to build a relationship with my son?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But that’s what you were thinking.”

  “Whatever,” his voice dejected.

  “Don’t cave, talk to me,” she pleaded.

  “As usual, you claim to know my thoughts,” he said bitterly.

  Her husband’s arrow had struck its target within her heart. “I’ll try to stop inserting my words into your mouth,” she said.

  “Don’t try, just do it!”

  What was it about love that made you hurt the one you’re with, she wondered. “I apologize for being hurtful. I definitely need to work on my personal shtick.”

  He turned back to her. “That you do, because I’m not going to be your batting ball anymore.”

  “Respect goes both ways. I need you to stand up for me when the kids put me down.”

  “You bring a lot of their retaliation on yourself.”

  “That’s part of the shtick I’m working on. Still, I need to feel confident that you’re on my side. Hell, I was almost killed two days ago…”

  “…at the hands of your son,” interrupted David.

  “Yes, at the hands of my son,” Shana lamented. “I deserve to be buoyed up, here.”

  “I’m sorry you don’t feel supported by me.”

  It was true that he did emotionally support her in the majority of her endeavors, but when it came to their daughters, all bets were off. Still, the last thing Shana wanted to deal with was the familiar woe with me in her husband’s voice. She changed subject. “By the way, I’ve decided to volunteer as a social activist.”

  David’s jaw dropped. “What?”

  “All my newspaper years, I’ve watched politicians make self-serving decisions that affect our collective freedom. I’ve got the knowledge, and I’ve got the time, to work with organizations I believe in.”

  “Too many new decisions for me to absorb in one day. How’s that even going to happen with you flying back and forth to New York to see Rachel and the baby, as well as visiting your son in jail? And what about me? I don’t want to be alone.”

  “Come with me, then!”

  “It’s hard enough for me to get aroun
d as it is. Who knows how long it’ll be before I end up in a wheelchair.”

  “Now who’s playing victim? Your doctor said you’re in good health. You’ll be fine.”

  “Do you still love me?” he asked solemnly.

  Shana pulled him to her and kissed him passionately. “More than ever.”

  He broke from her embrace. “There’s one more thing you need to promise me.”

  “I thought you wanted to eat.”

  “No more lies.”

  “I don’t lie all that much,” Shana protested.

  David spelled it. “No lies of addition, no lies of omission.”

  She’d try. She’d really try. “I promise.”

  “It still hurts that you kept thirty years of secrets from me.”

  “I get it.”

  “We’ve got to be able to trust each other with the truth.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Even if you know the kids and I will be mad at you for something you do, you’ve got to come clean. Better yet, think before doing something that you know will send us reeling.”

  “Enough, already. Let’s go eat.”

  David stared her in the eyes. “Otherwise, I’m leaving. I mean that with all sincerity.”

  Shana felt her husband’s resolve. “In return, I need you to not blow up at me when I do mess up. Neither of us are perfect. I also need you to share your feelings with me, not just trivial day-to-day stuff, either.”

  It was David’s turn to sigh. “I’ll do my best. Don’t expect miracles.”

  Although unsure if they both could live up to their renewed commitment to one another, Shana thrilled at the possibility. “Our marriage contract says for better or worse, in sickness and health. In good times and bad times.

  I do.

  Love you.

  Forever.”

  Book Discussion Questions

  1.What was your first impression of Shana Kahn? Why?

  2.How did you react to Shana’s interaction with Zander’s stepfather? Why?

  3.Why did Rachel and Becca feel that their mother had embarrassed them?

  4.If you were Shana, would you have reacted in a similar or different manner during the brunch argument? Why?

 

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