by J P Barnaby
Aaron’s gaze drifted to the closed door where somewhere, Spencer fumed on the other side. He didn’t want to face another argument when Spencer got home.
Want some company?
It took less than sixty seconds to get this response back. Hell yeah, I do. Come on over.
Aaron looked at the phone for a long moment, glanced at the door again, and grabbed his shoes.
Chapter 2
“WE NEED to run.”
Frenetic signs passed between Spencer and his father while their luggage slid down the conveyor belt. A large TSA agent waved them on with a bored gesture, moving on to the next in line. He didn’t seem to be interested in their urgency. He didn’t seem interested in much of anything. Spencer tossed his backpack over a shoulder and grabbed his pilot case from where it had landed after the slide. He carried it because the wheels wouldn’t be able to handle the pace at which Dr. Henry Thomas ran toward the concourse marked C. Spencer followed, and even though his father had a good twenty-five years on him, he rushed to keep pace. They bypassed the moving walkways in the hallway under the terminal, where an eerie glow from the overhead neon cast shadows in every corner.
“It’s just up here,” Dr. Thomas signed to Spencer as they stood on the escalator to catch their breath, their legs numb.
At the top they sprinted through the terminal, and Spencer started counting off gates. He searched, frantic, for number twenty-two. The clock above them showed they had just minutes until the plane pulled away from the gate.
They had to make that flight.
They had to get to Nell.
They had to get to Sophie.
Spencer’s shoes skidded on the linoleum as they rounded the corner onto the carpet of gate twenty-two. Hands on his knees, he waited as his father gave the woman their boarding passes. A stitch in his side took what little breath he had left.
“The doors are closed, sir. The flight is already leaving.”
Spencer only caught some of his father’s words as he pleaded with the gate agent to let them aboard. Tears welled in Spencer’s eyes. He pushed back the curls from his face, wiping sweat from his brow, and turned his gaze on the woman in his own wordless plea.
“Give me a second,” she replied and picked up a nearby phone. When she turned away, Spencer couldn’t read her lips. So he glanced up to read his father’s expression. Before he could discern it, though, his father held out the boarding passes and thanked the woman. They ran up a tight metal hallway. A man in a reflective vest herded them to the right at the end of the passage. It took just a moment for them to climb down the old metal stairs and sprint across the runway toward the plane. Before Spencer knew what was happening, a man pulled down a set of stairs. It looked like they were climbing into an attic rather than an airplane. They reached the top and a flight attendant stepped back to let them pass.
Angry looks followed them up the aisle as they bumped and weaved to the back of the plane. Of course they had to be in the last row.
Spencer’s pilot case slammed into the armrest of every third or fourth row. He couldn’t stop it from happening, but at least he didn’t have to listen to any complaints. Not that he would have cared. Something inside him would’ve cracked if they’d missed the flight. Nell and his father were the only constants in his life before he met Aaron. They were there to teach him to sign, to make sense of the world he couldn’t hear. His father had kept him from fucking up too badly before he could grow into his adult shoes.
But Nell taught him to dance.
His father pointed to two seats near the window, the two seats on the other side of a large sleeping man. Spencer didn’t understand how the man could be so deeply asleep since he’d only been on the plane for about fifteen minutes.
“Sir, can we get by?” his father asked, but the man slept on.
Spencer glanced toward the front of the plane to see both flight attendants occupied with other passengers. His father nudged the sleeping man with his computer case.
“Sir?”
The man, more generous than the armrests would allow, snorted himself awake at the poke and stared at them with bleary, disgruntled eyes. When the man didn’t move, Spencer put their pilot cases in the overhead bin as his father gestured toward the seats on the other side of the man. Finally he stood up to let them by. He smelled like ham and desperation.
His father went first, which left Spencer to stuff himself in next to the man, who promptly settled back in the aisle seat and closed his eyes.
“What. Are. We. Going. To. Do. When. We. Get—” Spencer started, but his father held up a hand. Spencer noticed people paying attention to the front of the plane, where an attendant demonstrated the use of a seat belt and then put a butter tub over her face. It attached to something that looked like an empty IV bag. Spencer assumed it was the safety announcement, but the woman stood too far away to read her lips. Finally she showed the enraptured passengers how to use their seat as a flotation device. Spencer wondered briefly if they’d be flying over water.
“What?” his father asked as he fastened his seat belt and settled in for the flight.
“What are we going to do when we get there?” Spencer signed and felt the plane start to vibrate beneath him. The plane rolled backward, and Spencer looked past his father and out the window for a quick moment.
“We will catch a cab to the hospital and see what the situation is. At the very least, we will take care of Sophie. We may stay at the house or get a hotel. I just do not know yet. I know as much as you do.”
“I cannot stop thinking about what could be happening, or how they are.”
“I know, Spencer, but Sophie is okay. The doctor said she was not hurt. She is probably just really scared. We will take care of them both.”
The plane turned and paused, and a few minutes later it started moving forward, accelerating quickly. The force pushed Spencer back in his seat as they left the ground and headed for the sky. He wished Aaron were here with him. Aaron hadn’t been home when Spencer got the text from his father. He sent a message and then packed up as much as he could in the twenty minutes he had. They were in a car on the way to the airport before he really had time to think. He hadn’t heard anything from Aaron in the hours since. Spencer didn’t even know if Aaron knew he’d left.
They soared above the country for the better part of four hours, and Spencer watched the changing landscape through the tiny window. Green turned to brown; houses turned to farmland. They flew over a huge river and even mountain terrain. It blew his mind—the few times he flew out to see his aunt and cousin—how he moved across the country in such a short amount of time.
“Have you gotten in touch with Aaron?” his father asked.
“No, we had a bit of an argument last night and he slept over at Jordan’s place,” Spencer admitted.
“Jordan?”
“That kid he met from the support group. You know, the one who saw his brother killed at school?”
“Okay, yes. So, what happened during the argument?”
“I was talking to Nell and Sophie on Skype and said something about wanting kids. Aaron does not want kids. At all. He freaked out about it.” Spencer shrugged.
“Bad things happen and he knows it. After the trauma, maybe he just does not want that kind of responsibility,” his father suggested.
“Yeah, that is what he said.”
“If it is important to you, he may come around. Then again, he may not. Aaron does not deal well with change.”
“No kidding, Doc.”
He smiled, and his father’s head popped up as if something caught his attention. He held up a hand as he listened.
“We are landing.”
Chapter 3
“I’M DR. Henry Thomas for Nell Fitzgerald. They told us to ask for Dr. Carter.”
The cooling sweat on the back of Spencer’s neck made him shiver as the woman tapped banally on her keys.
“Go up to the fourth floor and check in at the nurses’ station. I’l
l have Dr. Carter paged.” She spoke in a routine, offhanded way—like Spencer’s entire universe hadn’t spun off its orbital axis and out of control.
His father led the way as they slipped between wheelchairs and helium balloons. The calm, cheerful lobby put Spencer’s teeth on edge. Everything felt too close to the surface, swimming just under his skin, making it itch. He wondered if this was how Aaron felt all the time.
They waited forever as the elevator slid down to the first floor and then even longer as hospital staff unloaded yet another woman in a wheelchair with her baby, a confusion of flowers and balloons trailing in their wake.
Jesus, is that all people do here? Have babies?
They stopped at every floor on the way up, and Spencer’s hands were shaking by the time the doors opened one final time. A woman in scrubs called an apology behind her as she pushed past them. Unlike the lobby, a thrum of activity scuttled around them: doctors checking charts, nurses darting in and out of rooms, and a couple of large guys in scrubs pushing people on gurneys. In the middle of it sat a space-shuttle-like command center that must have been the nurses’ station. A wall of monitors set the backdrop for personnel to flit in and out, tapping keys and checking vitals.
“Excuse me.”
Spencer sidled up to the counter next to his father and watched as he caught the attention of the nurse who seemed to be manning the captain’s chair.
“How can I help you?”
Spencer didn’t catch the next few words because she took a large drink of something from an insulated tumbler.
“I’m looking for Dr. Carter. My name is Dr. Henry Thomas. They called about my sister-in-law, Nell Fitzgerald. She’s been in a car accident. Please, can you tell me where Sophie is?”
“The little girl is in the lounge down the hall, playing with her mother,” she said gently and then continued past their puzzled expressions. “Miss Fitzgerald is having tests run. If you’ll wait in the lounge, I’ll make sure Dr. Carter comes to see you when they’ve finished and she’s back in her room.”
“Can you tell me the nature of her injuries?” his father asked, even as he looked in the direction of the lounge.
“It’s best if you speak with the doctor.”
“Dad., What. Did. She. Mean. About. Sophie.?” Spencer asked as they made their way down the hall. His father’s head went up, as if he’d heard something, when they reached the lounge just another door down. The harshly decorated room sat empty of inhabitants except for a middle-aged woman playing with Sophie.
“Sophie.,” Spencer said, and blonde curls flew as the little girl turned around to see him standing in the doorway. She launched herself toward him and jumped into his arms.
“Spenna. Spenna,” she said and tried to make the signs but gave up in her excitement. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck. He could feel the vibrations from her speech, but it took a minute for him to dislodge her death grip and balance her on his hip.
“What. Did. She. Say., Dad.?”
“She said mama’s sick,” the woman said as she stood up from her place on the floor, where she and Sophie had been playing. Her elfin face shone clearly from behind a severe cut of dark hair.
“Thank you for sitting with her. I’m Henry, and this is Spencer, Nell’s nephew.” His father extended a hand.
“I know who you are, Dr. Thomas. My name is Jane Davies. I’m just waiting for the tests to come back, and then I’m going to take Sophie home. She’s had a long day.” She didn’t shake his hand. She didn’t even look at it.
“I know who you are as well, and Spencer is Sophie’s family—”
She held up a perfectly manicured hand. “We were together when she was conceived.”
“That. Does. Not. Make. You. Her. Mother.. She. Has. Never. Even. Met. You..” Spencer stroked the back of Sophie’s curls to reassure her as she looked back and forth.
“Your mother died before you were born. Does that make her any less your mother?”
Spencer took a step forward, but his father laid a hand on his arm.
“Ms. Davies, Sophie has had a very traumatic day. She saw her mother injured and was separated from her by emergency personnel. Right now she is scared and confused. It would be best for her to be with people she knows in a place where she feels safe. We’re going to take her back to her home.” His father’s tone invited no argument, but she made one anyway.
“What if you can’t get into Nell’s place? Do you have a key? What if you have to take her to some hotel? How is that better than taking her home with me?”
“Please don’t make me involve the authorities. My guess is that your name is not on Sophie’s birth certificate and you have no legal standing here.”
A movement from the corner of his eye caught Spencer’s attention, and a doctor in scrubs, who seemed to appear from nowhere, pulled a surgical cap from his balding head. Then he addressed the room.
“Who is here for Nell Fitzgerald?”
“We are,” his father said, indicating the four of them with a circular motion of his hand. For a moment Jane’s posture relaxed, but then it tensed again as the doctor came toward them.
“Would you follow me, please?” The doctor turned and, without looking to see if they followed, led them to a smaller room across the hall. It reminded Spencer of the tiny conference rooms in his office building. Once they were seated at the short rectangular table, the doctor sighed. Spencer’s chest tightened as he blinked tears away so he could focus on the doctor’s words.
“There is no easy way to say this. Ms. Fitzgerald wasn’t injured as a result of the crash. In fact the crash resulted from the rupture of an aneurysm in her brain.” He stopped talking for a moment to let the gravity drive them all down until Spencer couldn’t breathe. Then, mercilessly, he continued.
“The tests we performed this evening measure brain activity—and currently she has very poor results. Tomorrow we will follow up with a blood flow study to see if blood is going into the brain.”
“Will she recover?” his father asked.
“We’ll know more tomorrow.” The doctor’s nonanswer scared Spencer. Of course she’d recover. He couldn’t be without Nell. Sophie couldn’t be without Nell.
“Can. We. See. Her.?” Spencer cradled Sophie to him, more for his comfort than hers. She didn’t understand anything the doctor said. She didn’t know that her mother lay inches from death’s door just down the hall. She didn’t have any idea how her life had changed.
“Yes, of course. She’s settled back in the ICU.” His caustic demeanor slipped for a moment as he added, “I know this is a lot to take in. Please have the nurses page me if you have any more questions.”
“Thank you.” Spencer’s father stood with the doctor and shook his hand.
Spencer didn’t move, couldn’t breathe. They didn’t know if Nell would be alive tomorrow, or if she’d ever be Nell again if she was. He conceded the battle with tears and let them fall down his cheeks. Sophie wiped them away as he followed his father out of the room. Jane stayed behind, crying as she stared at the landscape painting on the wall opposite her. Spencer wondered if she even saw it.
Dr. Carter led them to a room just a few doors down from the nurse’s station and stepped back so they could enter. Before Spencer even got a good look at Nell, the doctor had disappeared back into his medical closet. It was probably best, because while Nell merely looked as if she were sleeping, Spencer let out a sob anyway.
His father took one of her hands first.
Spencer held Sophie tight against his hip and pulled up a visitor’s chair to sit by Nell’s side. Sophie reached out and touched her other hand.
“Mama’s sleeping,” she said, and Spencer nodded. He didn’t know if she’d ever wake up, but she definitely slept. He saw no evidence of injuries on her face or exposed skin. No bruises, no cuts, nothing to indicate the seriousness of her condition.
Her hand twitched, and Sophie pulled back.
“Mama?”
“No, honey,” Spencer’s father said. “She’s just dreaming.” He gave Spencer a significant look to relay that it wasn’t, in fact, a dream.
“Mama’s sleeping,” Sophie said again.
“Yes she is, sweetheart,” a voice said from the door. A nurse in cheerful pink scrubs came into the room and checked Nell’s IV and her monitors. She injected something into the IV line and then straightened Nell’s blanket at the bottom of the bed.
“When you’re ready to take the little girl home, Ms. Fitzgerald’s personal items are in this cabinet. I didn’t see a car seat….”
“We’ll manage,” his father said and thanked her.
Spencer saw the compassion in the nurse’s eyes and looked away. It felt like needles against his skin. He couldn’t take it right then.
“Let’s get Sophie home, and we can come in first thing tomorrow to check on Nell.” His father stood, squeezed Nell’s hand, and then went to the cabinet the nurse had indicated. He pulled out her purse and a diaper bag. After rummaging around in the purse for a moment, his father looked up, disappointment clear on his face. Then he unzipped the diaper bag and relaxed.
“It looks like her keys are in here. We can take Sophie home,” he said and held up his shiny prize.
Spencer stood, adjusted Sophie on his hip, and followed his father to the door. Sophie’s gaze never left her mother’s face.
Chapter 4
THE CRICK in his neck and the taxicab taste in his mouth reminded Aaron why he shouldn’t drink. He woke to a tiny girl poking his face, and gently batted her hand away. The hangover lingered in his temples as he sat up, and a kid crawled onto the couch next to him. God, they were everywhere. It was like a Bubble Guppy-watching, Cheerios-eating, drool-factory invasion of his life.
Jordan offered halfheartedly to cook, but Aaron didn’t want to hang around the happy little family. He didn’t feel much like going home and rehashing with Spencer the argument or his drinking. Instead, when he slid into his car, his wheels turned toward his parents’ house like they had a mind of their own. The weight in his chest eased the farther he drove through the familiar side streets. He passed the high school he’d never graduated from. The grocery store where he broke down and told his mother he didn’t want to live anymore.
