by Nan Rossiter
“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
“Concentrate!” 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 bless
ed 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.”
30
Tommy was leaning forward in his chair with his elbows on his knees and his hands covering his face when Beryl peered into the room. “Hey,” she said softly. He looked up and the distraught look on his tearstained face eased as he tried to muster a smile.
“Hey, Aunt Ber,” he said, getting up and wrapping her in a bear hug.
“Oh, my goodness, Tommy Taylor …” she said. “When did you get so big?!”
He laughed and she laid her hand on his scruffy cheek. “You look just like your dad, you know that?” she said, searching his glistening eyes. “How’re you doin’?”
“I’m okay—a little sore.” He motioned to the bed. “Meggie’s pretty banged up.” Beryl nodded, moving closer to the bed. “She’s still pretty out of it; they said the painkillers will do that. Her wrist is shattered—so I guess no tennis this summer.” He brushed away a tear. “I should’ve been up front—then she’d be okay. She’s lucky, though—the car was absolutely totaled—you can’t even tell what it was.” He looked over. “Have you talked to my mom?”
Beryl nodded, lightly touching Meghan’s bruised cheek, and then noticed Micah standing in the hall and motioned for him to come in. “Tommy, this is Micah.” The two shook hands. “Micah’s an old friend. He used to work in Grammie’s shop when he was in high school and he offered to come down with me.”
“Thanks for coming, man,” Tommy said with a nod.
Micah smiled.
“Anyway, I just talked to your mom to let her know we were here. Have you talked to her at all?”
“No, there’s no service in here,” he said, looking at his phone to confirm that the bars hadn’t magically appeared. “I was gonna go outside and call.”
“Well, your dad is out of surgery,” Beryl reported, “but he’s still in pretty rough shape. Your mom said the doctor sounded more optimistic, so that’s a bit of bright news.” She hesitated, knowing she was walking a fine line between hope and devastation. “Tommy,” she said softly, “he’s definitely not out of the woods, though … and the next twenty-four hours are critical.”
Tommy nodded, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “I want to see him,” he said.
Just then a young doctor came into the room. “Hello,” she said. “Are you Mrs. Taylor?”
“No,” Beryl said, quickly introducing herself and explaining why her sister wasn’t there. “How’s Meghan doing?”
“She’s going to be fine, but I’d like to speak to her mom before I leave tonight. Do you have her cell number—or maybe you could ask her to give me a call.”
“Of course,” Beryl said, as Tommy jotted down his mom’s cell phone number on a napkin.
“Thank you, I’ll check back in a bit.”
Beryl sat on the bed and stroked Meghan’s hand. Almost immediately, her eyelashes fluttered open. “Hey, Meggie,” she whispered softly.
Meghan opened her eyes and tried to focus. “Hi, Aunt Ber …” she said weakly.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Beryl said softly. “It’s so good to see you.”
Meghan nodded and promptly drifted off again.
“So, two coffees and a tea?” Micah said, feeling his pocket to make sure he had his wallet.
Beryl nodded and looked at Tommy. “Are you sure you take it black?”
Micah chuckled. “I think Tommy knows how he takes his coffee.”
Beryl shook her head, still unconvinced. “Well, I think he bumped his head and is confused—or else his mother is a bad influence!”
Tommy laughed. “She is a bad influence.” Then he looked at Micah. “Mind if I go with you?”
“Not at all.”
“I could use a change of scenery—and maybe a sandwich,” he added, rubbing his stomach.
“Do you want anything besides tea?” Micah asked, looking at Beryl. “Maybe a cookie?”
Beryl smiled halfheartedly. “I’m sure the hospital’s cookies aren’t as good as Charlotte’s, but I’ll split a sandwich w
ith you if you see something.”
“Okay, we’ll be right back.”
Ten minutes later, they returned with two coffees, one tea, and two Caesar salad wraps—one of which Tommy had completely devoured before Beryl even took her second bite.
“Ber,” Micah said, taking a sip of coffee. “If Tommy wants to see his dad, why don’t I run him up there? It’s only an hour, and there’s no reason for him to stay here. Meghan’s stable, and she’s clearly not going anywhere tonight.”
Beryl and Tommy both looked up. “You don’t mind driving?” Beryl asked.
“Nope—and he should be there.”
“If you want to, it’s fine with me. Are you coming back?”
“Maybe,” he teased.
“Micah,” Tommy began haltingly. “Do you think we can stop at the wrecker shop so I can get our stuff? Would you have room for all of it? I have the trooper’s cell number,” he said, pulling a card from his pocket.
“Definitely,” Micah said with a nod. “When the backseat is down, there’s plenty of room. We’ll do it on our way.”
“Call your mom, too, and let her know you’re coming,” Beryl reminded.
“I will,” Tommy said, giving her a hug. “Thanks, Aunt Ber.”
“You’re welcome, hon.”
“I’ll be back later,” Micah said, as she hugged him too.
“I can’t thank you enough,” Beryl murmured into his chest and then stepped back and looked into his eyes. “Please be careful.”
A moment later, she was looking out the window, wondering if she could see Micah’s car from where she stood, but since he’d dropped her off before he’d parked, she wasn’t even sure where it was. She watched people walking below, and after five minutes with no sign of them, she gave up and sat in the chair next to Meghan’s bed and sipped her tea. She turned on the TV using the remote on the bedside table, keeping the volume low so Meghan wouldn’t stir. She flipped through the channels and settled on an old classic starring Cary Grant and Debra Kerr—it had been one of her mom’s favorites, and now she knew why.
