The word was a silent specter that hung in the room.
“Well, ah, yeah. Whatever we, ah, do, it’s got to be okay with your mom, you know. So, um, if you can’t go, I’ll just have to come to you more often.”
“You’d do that?”
“Sure, I would,” Todd said. “I’ll even be out on the West Coast in a few weeks for a race. Well, Phoenix, but that’s pretty close.”
But Todd didn’t think he’d have the stomach to visit Benjamin again.
“Sounds good,” Benjamin murmured, but his eyes had drifted closed.
“You tired there, buddy?” Todd asked, grasping at the chance to leave.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “I am.”
“G…gosh. Why don’t I come back later? When you’re feeling better.”
“Okay,” the child mumbled.
Damn it, Todd thought, standing. He couldn’t take this. He just couldn’t take this. How the hell did Indi do this?
“Indi,” Linda said. “Maybe you can take Todd to the roof. He looks like he could use some fresh air.”
Todd clawed at his shirt collar. His hand shook so bad it took him a moment to loose the first button.
“Yeah. Air. Sounds good.”
Indi stared at him, clearly understanding what was going on. She stared at him in sympathy before leaning over Benjamin. “See you in a bit,” she whispered.
“Bit,” Benjamin echoed back.
“Come on,” she said to Todd.
Todd waited until they were in the elevator, doors mercifully closed, before all but yelling, “Why the hell does he look so bad?”
“Todd—”
“What the hell happened? Was it his trip to Richmond? The new chemo?”
Indi calmly pressed the up button. “Your reaction is normal. It makes people angry when they see a child look as bad as Benjamin does.”
“Don’t give me that psychobabble. I want to know why he looks like that. I thought the trip to Richmond was supposed to help him, not make him look…”
The doors slid open.
“Like he’s dying?” she finished for him, the two of them standing there, oblivious to the stares of the couple waiting to climb into the car.
“Get me out of here,” Todd said, just about running away.
“Todd!”
He didn’t know where he was going, just blindly followed signs. Stairs. A heavy metal door. He pushed on it so hard it crashed open.
“Todd,” he heard again.
And then daylight. Blessed sunlight. And air.
“Todd, slow down.”
He walked along a garden path. Someone slipped around him and blocked his way.
“You knew he was sick,” Indi said.
“I didn’t know it was this bad.”
“Well, what the hell did you think? That he was just temporarily disabled?” The sympathy had faded. Now she looked ferocious, like a mother cat staring into the eyes of a dog who’d threatened her kittens.
“No. I mean, yes. Damn it,” he cried, looking skyward, his hands clutching his hair. “I don’t know what I thought.”
His hands still shook. His heart still beat 190 mph. He was…
Crying?
No tears, he told himself. She would not see him cry.
“Todd,” she said gently, a soft hand on his arm.
And Todd knew it was too late.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
HE WAS CRYING.
Indi didn’t know what to do. She watched him turn away.
“Sorry,” he said. “Just give me a sec, okay?”
She let him go, Indi so riddled with emotions she felt like crying herself. How did he keep doing this to her? How did he continue to turn her world upside down?
He was crying.
She turned away and sat down on one of the benches that lined a path. The rooftop garden was an oasis. A grassy, tree-studded park meant to soothe the patients and the family members who needed a momentary escape.
It didn’t soothe her today.
“I thought bringing him to Richmond would help him,” Todd said.
He stood over her, his large frame blocking the sun. He had his hands in his pockets, but she could tell that they were clenched. His whole body looked taut with tension.
“Chemo is hard on people, Todd. This particular type of chemo is even harder than normal. It’s a last-ditch effort to save Benjamin’s life, and if it doesn’t work…”
He sat down next to her. Sunlight burned into the shoulders of her dark jacket like hot hands. Indi shrugged it off, laying the jacket across her lap.
“He’s not going to make it to camp, is he?”
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I looked into it the other day. There are doctors on staff, and the Carolinas Medical Center is nearby, but I’m not certain dragging Benjamin across the United States is a good idea. He’s so sick, and to be honest, I don’t think the doctors will allow it.”
“Indi,” Todd said, placing a hand on her thigh. For the first time, the touch was completely impersonal. His hazel eyes were intense, as if he’d done battle with inner demons and come out on the other side.
That’s exactly what he’d done, she realized.
“Indi,” he said again, and she knew he struggled for words. “I know it’s a long shot. I know his doctors might not allow it.”
She watched him swallow and Indi wondered who was this man sitting next to her. Gone was the cocky race car driver of Richmond. In his place was a man deeply rocked by Benjamin’s battle with cancer.
“If I could just see that look on his face again, the one he had in Victory Lane—”
“Todd,” she said, her own eyes filling with tears. Damn him. Why couldn’t he be like some of the other self-centered celebrities she’d dealt with in the past? It made it so much easier to stay detached, to not have to think about the fact that she was losing another child in her life.
No.
She wouldn’t go there. “Todd,” she started again. “I know you want to help. I appreciate that you want to help, but I just don’t see it happening—”
“I’ll make it happen,” he said, standing up.
“How?” she cried. “You can’t just wave a magic wand and make Benjamin well enough to go.”
“No, but I can ensure he gets the best care. That he’s being treated by the best—”
“This is Stanford. One of the best children’s hospitals in the world.”
“Then I’ll talk to the second-best. And the third. And the fourth. Damn it, Indi. I’m not going to sit around and wait for that kid to die.”
Indi felt herself blanch, looked around, hoping there were no other parents or children nearby. There wasn’t. They were completely alone.
“All the money in the world won’t help some kids,” she said.
“Is that what you do? Is that what you tell yourself to keep yourself sane while doing this crazy job? Is that why you’ve cut yourself off from feeling emotion? From allowing yourself to enjoy a damn kiss?”
“Don’t you dare,” she warned. “Don’t you dare turn this into a personal attack on me.”
“Why not?” he asked. “It’s true, isn’t it? You’re afraid, Indi. Afraid to care. And not just because of what happened between you and that jock, who, by the way, was a total jerk if he screwed you around. You’re afraid to open yourself up. And who can blame you?” he asked. “This is what you deal with on a day-to-day basis. Death. Death and the broken hearts of parents and family members.”
“That’s not true,” she said, standing, too. “Not all the kids I work with end up dying. Many of them go on to live long, productive lives. They might be battling hemophilia or sickle-cell anemia, but they do it in such a way that they inspire me. I devote one hundred percent of my time and effort to this job for that very reason.”
“Is that what you tell yourself?” he asked softly. “Is that why you refuse date after date?”
“What?” she huffed. “Who told you that?”
“Linda,” he said softly. “She told me one of the doctors here asked you out on a date, but that you refused. She said you told her all doctors were ‘players,’ and I thought to myself, now why does that sound familiar?”
“Because it is true. You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff that goes on in hospitals.”
“And in law firms and marketing firms and private schools. Everywhere, Indi. No-good, lying scum are everywhere.” He leaned toward her. “But how’re you ever going to weed out the bad from the good if you don’t give it a try?”
“This isn’t about me,” she said, the fight draining out of her. “This is about Benjamin, and I won’t allow you to turn your frustration over his situation into a personal attack on me.”
“You’re right,” he said. “That’s exactly what I’m doing. This is about Benjamin. It’s about all the Benjamins in the world. But unlike you, I’m not going to allow my sorrow to be the emotional death of me. I’m not going to give up—”
“I haven’t given up.”
“Haven’t you?” he asked, his eyes never leaving her own. “Isn’t that exactly what you’ve done?”
She refused to answer.
“I’m leaving,” he said, turning away.
She let him leave.
“Stupid, ignorant man,” she muttered. “Nobody wants to help Benjamin more than I do. I haven’t given up.”
But inside something whispered, Haven’t you?
“JEN, CANCEL all my appointments,” Todd said into his cell phone.
He pushed on the exit door, glancing over his shoulder to see if Indi had followed him. She hadn’t.
Whatever.
“For tomorrow? That might be kind of hard—” Jen replied.
“For the rest of the week.”
“What? Todd, I can’t do that. You know how tightly booked you are. There’s no way I can reschedule your whole wee—”
“Do it,” he said firmly, still looking for Indi even as the door closed. “I don’t care what you say, just get it done.”
“But, Todd—”
He hung up on her. Yeah, he’d probably pay the price for that later on, but what did it matter if one more woman was pissed off at him?
Damn, Indi.
You were pretty harsh on her.
Yeah, well, he’d needed to be.
The door to the elevator he’d called for slid open, cool air from the lobby brushing his face. He headed straight for the reception counter.
“Sam,” he said sweetly, leaning over the bright blue counter and giving the pink-smocked staff member his most dazzling smile. “I need a favor,” he asked.
“What’s that?” she asked with a flirtatious grin right back.
“I need to know Benjamin’s doctors’ names.”
The smile faded. “Oh, well, I’d really like to—”
“Please,” he said softly, leaning farther forward at the same time he revved up his smile. “Pretty please?”
“Todd, um. Yeah. I’m really very sorry, but I can’t release patient information. It’s confidential.”
“I know that,” he said softly. “But what would it hurt if you just wrote the name down on that pad of paper there, and I happened to see it. No one need ever know—”
“I would know,” she said with a shake of her head, her frizzy ponytail falling over one shoulder. “I can’t. Really, I just can’t.”
“There are two garage passes in it for you. I’ll even make it hot passes. You and your boyfriend can pick the race.”
She opened her mouth, closed it, seemed to consider his offer, but only for a millisecond. In the end she just couldn’t do it. “Can’t you just ask Indi to get that information to you? Or Benjamin’s mom?”
He bit back an oath of frustration. Yes, he could. Of course he could, but he wanted to poke around first. Find out why Benjamin was regressing, see what they were doing to treat him, ask his doctors if there was any other medication they could give him. “I guess if that’s what I need to do—”
“Yes,” she said, pouncing on his acquiescence. “It is. I’m really sorry, but I just can’t take a chance.” She tried to ease the blow with a smile.
“You can still have the tickets,” Todd said, straightening and tapping the counter impatiently.
“I can? Oh, gee, thank you so much.”
“There’s one last thing you can help me with,” he said.
“Anything,” she said.
“I’d like to bring an old friend of Benjamin’s in for a visit.”
“Certainly.”
“It’s a dog,” he said.
Poor Sam looked stricken again. “Oh, Todd, animals aren’t allowed.”
“Sure they are,” he said. “I saw a special on therapy dogs just the other day.”
“Yeah, but they have to have special training.”
“Who do I talk to about that?”
“Well, I mean…I don’t know if you’d have time. Don’t you have to, you know, race this weekend?”
“You leave the racing to me,” he said, leaning against the counter again. There had to be somebody he could charm into helping him.
“I’ll give you the number of the gal who brings animals in to visit, but I can’t guarantee she’ll help, or that she can get you approved.”
Then he’d find someone else who would. Todd didn’t back down from challenges easily.
His cell phone rang.
“Todd,” Jen said. “I really can’t—”
“I need the name of the best pediatric oncologist at the Carolinas Medical Center.”
“But, Todd—”
“When you’ve got the number, call me back. Oh, and find out if he’s a race fan.”
“Todd. No. I can’t—”
He flipped his phone shut. Okay, so now Jen would really be pissed. Oh, well. Next stop, Benjamin’s room. After that, he’d call the dog lady. Maybe talk to someone in oncology that might be able to help him.
There was one thing Todd wasn’t good at, and that was waiting. Benjamin’s health couldn’t wait.
He was running out of time.
GREEN FLAG
O Happy Days
By Rick Stevenson, Sports Editor
I’ll have to admit, I was a little steamed last week when Todd Peters’s PR rep called and canceled an interview. I took it as a sign that the old Todd Peters was back. You know the one: the guy that used to cuss pit reporters out, or hit cameramen on the way back to his hauler, or ignore reporters all together. I was all set to write a scathing article about my old pal Todd. Actually, about athletes in general, and how so many of them fail to use the resources their celebrity status provides to do good for others.
And then Dover’s Happy Hour came around.
I happened to run into Todd’s PR rep while Todd was out on the track. She was so über noncommunicative about where Todd had been that it got me curious. Being a journalist whose roots are investigative reporting, it didn’t take me long to find out.
It seems Todd’s been AWOL while he tries to find the best medical care for Miracles child Benjamin Koch. You know the kid—the one with the million-dollar smile in Victory Lane. Seems little Benjamin took a turn for the worse and Todd’s determined to do all that he can to help the boy.
Say what?
I’ll confess, at first I didn’t believe it. But several discreetly placed phone calls later, I verified the truth. Todd Peters has, indeed, taken a terminally ill child under his wing. Linda Koch, Benjamin’s mother, said he’s moved heaven and earth to fly Benjamin to the best specialists around the nation, all on his dime.
This isn’t a media stunt anymore.
Linda Koch was clearly in tears as she told me the tale. Her son has rallied in recent weeks, something she feels certain has to do with Todd’s constant phone calls and visits. She even mentioned that Todd arranged for Benjamin to attend a camp here in North Carolina where, surprise, surprise, Todd agreed to be one of the camp counselors.
So stop the press, ladies
and gentlemen. If Todd Peters can be reformed, maybe there’s hope for the other athletes. Word is Todd’s team owner, Mathew Knight, is bringing in bad-boy open-wheel star Brandon Burke as wheelman for a second NASCAR NEXTEL Cup team. Maybe Brandon needs to attend the Todd Peters School of Philanthropic Endeavors. Perhaps all athletes should attend the school.
If only life were that simple.
But…wouldn’t it be nice?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE AIR WAS HOT and humid.
Again.
Indi rolled her suitcase through the jetway corridor at the Charlotte Douglas International Airport, wondering for the thousandth time why she’d agreed to come. It wasn’t as if Linda and Benjamin needed her, she thought, waiting for her luggage to appear on the carousel, something she’d begun to suspect would never happen. With her luck, her baggage was on its way to the Bahamas while she was stuck here in North Carolina.
She released a sigh of frustration, although she was mostly frustrated for herself. Maggie had offered to tell headquarters she was too busy to travel. For goodness’ sake, they had an office on the East Coast that could have handled the PR side of things. All they were doing was filming Todd and Benjamin together for use in a commercial and other media releases. And the corporate honchos that were flying in to shake Todd’s hand could have done that without her. Most important of all, Benjamin didn’t need her. He’d have both his parents here this weekend since they were taking a minivacation, their first in a long time. Even Benjamin would have someone with him to keep him company when Todd wasn’t around. Mark, his neighbor from down the hall, was with him, too. Another patient adopted by Todd.
And yet here she was.
“I’ll go in your place,” Maggie had said.
But Indi had declined.
“I’m an idiot.”
And there was her suitcase. Thank the Lord above. Now if she could find the rental car place.
“Indi,” someone called as she exited the airport. The rental agency, it appeared, was off site.
Indi glanced around, spying, much to her surprise, Jennifer Scott standing near the driver’s side of a dark blue Ford Tempo.
“Whew,” Jen said, the willowy blonde looking far too calm, cool and collected considering the humidity that hung in the air and the rush of cars all jockeying to find a place to pull up to the curb. “I’m so glad I caught you. I’ve been calling your cell phone for an hour.”
Total Control Page 13
