Daniel's Gift

by Barbara Freethy

  Jenny kicked her feet up under her body and wrapped her arms around her waist. She hummed to herself, trying not to hear the silence. The quiet bothered her, because Danny had always been such a loud kid. Now, there was nothing, a ghost in a hospital bed.

  "Jenny?"

  She turned around, expecting Luke, but it was Grace and her niece, Doris. She got up to greet them.

  "Oh, my. Oh, my," Grace said, shaking her head. "He looks so little in that bed." Her eyes filled with tears, and she started to shake. Jenny looked at her with concern. "You don't have to come in, Grace. This is too much for you."

  "No, I'm okay. I can't remember ever seeing Danny so still. He's such a jackrabbit. When he comes to my house, he jumps off the furniture and climbs up the doorways and I don't think he ever actually walks down the steps. How can he lie there so still?"

  "I don't know. His body's resting, I guess. One of the doctors said Danny's brain is in hibernation. That when he's healed, he'll wake up, like a bear in winter. I try to hold on to that thought." Jenny put an arm around Grace's shoulders. "Thank you for coming. It means a lot to me."

  "Has he opened his eyes at all?"

  Jenny's throat tightened at the simple question. "Not once. The last time I saw him with his eyes open was Friday morning when he left for school. I'm not even sure he knows I'm here."

  "Oh, he knows. A boy senses when his mother is close. And the two of you have always been so very close." Grace opened her black leather purse and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe her eyes.

  Jenny felt a rush of emotion at Grace's words. "Sometimes I think I'm a terrible mother. I make so many mistakes."

  Grace smiled. "He loves you. You love him. That's all that matters."

  "We better go, Aunt Grace," Doris said. "We're supposed to be at Dad's house in fifteen minutes."

  "Can I give Danny a kiss?" Grace asked.

  "Of course you can."

  Grace walked over to Danny and kissed him on the forehead. "Get better, young Daniel. I need my checkers partner back. Your mother's too easy." Grace looked over at Jenny, her blue eyes sharp and wise. "God be with you, child. It's always darkest before the dawn."

  "I can't wait for the sun to come up."

  "It will. It always does."

  "But what if Danny doesn't wake up with the sun?"

  Grace squeezed Jenny's hand hard. "Remember what I told you when Danny had that terrible case of the chicken pox and you lost your temporary job because you had to stay home and take care of him?"

  Jenny looked at her for a long moment. "You said there was no greater joy than having a child, no matter how much pain or how many problems they bring with them."

  "I think the words still hold true. Good-bye, dear."

  "Good-bye."

  "Take care, Jenny." Doris paused at the door. "That's the first time I've seen Aunt Grace so clear about things, especially memories. Maybe seeing Danny is good for her. I'll bring her again, if you don't mind?"

  "I'd love it."

  "Happy Thanksgiving."

  "You too." Jenny couldn't bring herself to say the words. Thanksgiving was a time to give thanks for all the blessings in life. At this moment, there was only one thing she was thankful for, that Danny was still alive, even if that life was barely more than the beat of his heart.

  With that thought in mind, Jenny laid her head gently against Danny's chest, just to make sure that his heart was in fact still beating. It was. There was still a chance. She had to believe in his recovery. She had to hang on.

  Alan walked into the room, his face somber, his expression concerned. Jenny slowly straightened.

  "Hi."

  "Hi." He dug his hands into his pockets. "You didn't call me back yesterday."

  "I'm sorry. I meant to."

  "We need to talk."

  Jenny turned away, not wanting to look into Alan's eyes. She felt guilty for having spent the previous day with Luke instead of with Alan. He was beginning to feel like a stranger to her. She couldn't remember why she had started dating him in the first place, why she had thought of marrying him.

  The distance between them was as big as the Grand Canyon. Alan was on one side. She was on the other. He wanted to bridge the gap. She wasn't so sure. And that scared her, because Alan was reality and Luke was fantasy.

  "Danny looks a little better, don't you think?" she asked, trying to divert their conversation from anything personal. "His color is good."

  "Jenny."

  "When I clapped my hands next to his ear, I think he moved."

  "Jenny, please."

  She looked at him. "What? What do you want?"

  "Can we go outside? What I have to say to you, I don't want to say in front of Danny."

  His words heightened her tension. Goose bumps crept up her spine. She wanted to say no, but Alan had already left the room, and she had no choice but to follow.

  Alan didn't stop in the nurses' station but walked down the hall, through the waiting room and out into the atrium. The weather was crisp, the sky partially obscured with clouds. Alan pulled out a chair at one of the tables. Jenny reluctantly sat down.

  "What is it?" she asked.

  "It's about Matt."

  Matt? Thank God. For a moment she thought he was going to tell her he had seen her with Luke, seen her kissing a man she was supposed to hate.

  "We located his car in Brenda's garage. The license plate was bent in half. There was a crack in one of the headlights."

  Jenny stared at him, unsure where he was headed. "What are you saying?"

  "I think Matt was driving the car that hit Danny."

  * * *

  "Merrilee, it's time to eat." Richard stood in the doorway to the kitchen. Merrilee glanced out the window for the hundredth time in the past hour. The cul-de-sac was empty.

  "Jenny and Alan aren't here yet," she said, letting the curtain drop.

  "Your father is getting sloshed. He's spouting off about Catholics, Clinton, and the right to bear arms. Your brother is sitting in front of the television critiquing every goddamn play the Cowboys make. And Constance is about to rip William's head off."

  Merrilee sighed. "All right, I'll put the food on the table."

  "Thank God."

  Richard left the room without offering to help. Not that she would have allowed it. The kitchen was her domain, and she ran it with single-handed efficiency. With quick, effortless motions, she pulled out the various platters and trays and took them to the dining room.

  When she walked into the family room to tell her family dinner was ready, William and Constance were wrestling over the controls to the video game, Richard was reading the newspaper, her father was rambling on about illegal aliens and welfare, and her brother was leaning back on the couch, popping peanuts into his mouth.

  No one was making any effort at all to be a family, and it irritated the hell out of her. "Dinner is served," she said.

  Twenty minutes later, dinner was over. Her big family meal had been eaten with the same enthusiasm as starving dogs going after one bowl of food. When their plates were empty, they were finished with the celebration.

  "Can I go to Cassie's now?" Constance asked, shoving back her chair.

  "We haven't had pie."

  "I don't want pie, it's fattening."

  "Sit down, please."

  Constance sighed and sat down with a mutinous expression on her face.

  "We've hardly had a chance to talk." Merrilee drew her finger around the edge of her water glass. "Richard. Why don't you tell us about your new ad campaign, the one you've been working so hard on?"

  Richard shrugged. "It's a series of ads for a company called Morgan Hunt. They make hunting equipment."

  "You mean like guns?" Constance asked. "You're working for a company that makes guns?"

  "And what's wrong with that?" John slapped his son-in-law on the shoulder. "Man has a right to protect himself and his family."

  "That's disgusting. Uncivilized." Constance thrust her nose in t
he air.

  "Got another beer?" Matt asked Merrilee.

  "No."

  The conversation fell flat, and Merrilee's gaze drifted over to the two empty spots at the table, one for Jenny, and one for Alan. Although in her mind, she didn't see Alan next to Jenny, but Danny, chomping noisily on his food, hiding his lima beans under the mashed potatoes, and exchanging knock-knock jokes with Matt.

  Her heart caught. Her eyes grew misty. She blinked back the emotion, hating when it took her unawares, when she couldn't control it. When her vision cleared, Merrilee realized she was all alone, except for Richard. He was sitting at the other end of the table, his fingers drumming restlessly on the tablecloth, and he was watching her in a way that was very personal, very disturbing.

  "I guess we'll have coffee in the family room," she said. "It will be more comfortable there to sit and talk."

  "Stop trying so hard to make this a normal day," Richard said. "It's not normal. We're all worried about Danny and Jenny."

  "You could hardly tell that from the conversation."

  "Everyone's afraid, Merrilee." Richard got up and walked around the table. He sat down in the chair next to hers, recently vacated by William. "We're terrified that Danny's going to die. Admit it, you're afraid, too."

  "Of course, I am. He's just a child. It could be William or Constance lying in that bed. I couldn't stand it if anything happened to one of our children." The emotion came again, unexpected, undeterred by her will not to let anyone know how upset she was. "I feel so guilty. That first night when I came home from the hospital, I thanked God it wasn't my child."

  The tears ran down her cheeks in a stream. She wanted to stop crying. She was ugly when she cried. The tears continued to flow. Richard pulled her into his arms. It was the first time he had held her in weeks.

  "What's happening to us?" she murmured against his sweater. "What's happening to our family?"

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jenny slapped Alan hard across the cheek. It sounded like a gunshot. "How dare you say such a thing? Matt is my brother. My brother. He wouldn't hurt Danny, not on his life. You're making it up. You want so badly to pin this on someone, you're willing to blame it on my brother, who you've never liked. In fact, you don't like anybody in my family, except Merrilee. And God knows, she likes you, because you're not -- "

  "Not what? Or should I say, not who?" Alan's face turned white except for the red mark on his cheek.

  Jenny turned away. He put his hand on her arm and pulled her back around.

  "Why are you doing this to me?" she asked.

  "I'm trying to find out who hurt your son. I should think you'd appreciate that."

  "But my brother, Alan? My God, how could you think I'd want to hear that?"

  "Matt was drinking heavily Friday night. By his own admission, he has no memory of what took place between the time he left the Acapulco Lounge, just six minutes before the estimated time of Danny's accident, until the next day."

  "That doesn't mean anything."

  "He still doesn't know where his car is. Fortunately, I was able to locate Brenda, the woman who accompanied him from the bar Friday night. She told me his car was in her garage, and that she didn't think to tell anyone, because she assumed Matt knew where his car was."

  Jenny tried to follow his explanation, tried to focus on the facts instead of the panic building in her throat. "Maybe it was Brenda. Maybe she did it."

  "She said Matt drove them to her house, that they didn't go to the next bar as planned, because it was too foggy. Brenda said Matt hit the brick wall at the edge of her property as he turned into her driveway."

  "Then that explains the damage to the car."

  "It's an awfully big coincidence, Jenny."

  "I still don't understand. How did Matt get home from Brenda's?"

  "Brenda dropped him off on her way to the airport just after six a.m. She had an early morning flight, and she thought he was still too high to drive. Apparently they had continued drinking at her house."

  Jenny pulled her arm away from him. She didn't want to talk to Alan, didn't want to hear what he was saying, didn't want to believe a word of it. "Brenda explained it, and I believe her. Someone else hit Danny. Not Matt."

  "I wouldn't have told you this if I didn't believe that Matt did it. I've been a cop too long. I know when someone's lying. The guy is guilty as sin. And Brenda is covering up for him. She was probably in the car when they hit Danny."

  Jenny clapped her hands over her ears. "Stop. I don't want to listen to this."

  "Jenny, you have to face facts." Alan walked toward her. "You can't keep protecting Matt."

  "He's my brother," she cried, dropping her hands to her sides. She was so angry her hands clenched in fists, and she thought if Alan tried to touch her, she might just hit him again. Fighting for control, she tried to speak quietly and calmly. "Alan, Matt was with me when Danny was born. He was there when my mother died. He gave me money so I could move out of Merrilee's house. I know that he's changed, that he's filled with self-pity, but I remember the big brother who would do anything for me."

  "None of that changes the fact that in this instance Matt might have made a big mistake."

  "Might have. You don't know for sure. If you did, he'd be behind bars. And he's not, is he?"

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I don't have any concrete evidence that he did it," Alan admitted.

  Jenny nodded. "That's what I thought. I have to go."

  "I'm not trying to frame Matt, just make him own up to his actions -- like a man." Alan's expression softened. "Come on, Jenny, cut me some slack. I'm laying out the facts as I see them. Why can't you understand that?"

  "Because Matt is my brother. Because love is more important to me than facts. And if you really loved me, you'd never have come to me with this."

  "I do love you." Alan stared at her with pain in his eyes. "But you don't love me, do you?"

  "I thought I did," she whispered. "I wanted to."

  "Jenny, don't. Don't say it."

  "Oh, Alan, can't you see how wrong this is? I don't want to hear you talk about Matt. You don't want to hear me talk about us. What's left?"

  "A lot of things."

  "No. Danny's accident has brought clarity to my life. I'm not in love with you, Alan, and it wouldn't be fair to pretend otherwise."

  "This isn't the time to make big decisions."

  Jenny sighed, feeling too emotionally drained to argue. "Fine. Maybe you're right. What about Matt? What are you going to do?"

  "Nothing for the moment. I won't stop investigating, Jenny. Whoever did this to Danny deserves to be punished, and they will be punished."

  * * *

  Danny peeked through the leaves of a tree, delighting in his mother's conversation with Alan. "She's breaking up with him. I can't believe she's actually breaking up with him. This is so cool." Danny danced between Alan and Jenny. "You lose, dude," he shouted. Of course, nobody heard him, but it felt good all the same.

  "You're certainly a gracious winner, kid," Jacob commented dryly. "Did you ever stop to think this guy might be good for your mom?"

  Danny shook his head. "Look at her face. She's relieved." He watched as Jenny walked out of the atrium, leaving Alan alone in the garden.

  "Yo, Alan. How does it feel to get dumped?" Danny pulled at Alan's sleeve.

  Alan shook his arm and looked around him, as if he sensed he was not alone.

  "Hey, kid. You're making me look bad," Jacob said, pointing his thumb to the sky. "The Big Guy doesn't like braggarts."

  "What's a braggart?"

  "You, right now."

  "Oh, well, sorry, but that guy has made my life miserable the last six months, trying to act like my dad."

  "Maybe he was trying to help. He is one of the good guys, in case you hadn't noticed."

  "He's not my dad."

  "Lucky him. You're not exactly the perfect kid, you know."

  "Whose fault is that? You'r
e my guardian angel. You're supposed to -- you know -- make me a good person."

  Jacob rolled his eyes and looked up at the heavens. "Why me? Why me?"

  Danny laughed. He jumped up in the air, his supernatural leap taking him up to the top of the atrium ceiling. He did a somersault in midair, then a triple twist, landing back on the ground with his hands in the air, like a gymnast sticking a difficult vault.

  "Easy, kid. You're starting to have way too much fun. Maybe it's about time you had a reminder."

  "A reminder of what?"

  Jacob grabbed Danny by the ear.

  "Ow, that hurts."

  "No, it don't. You can't feel any pain."

  Danny's eyes widened as he considered the comment. "You're right. I guess I just remembered that having my ear pulled hurt. My Aunt Merrilee was always pulling me by the ear when Mom wasn't looking. She's got a mean streak in her, I'll tell you."

  "Oh, yeah, well look at her now, and look at you."

  Danny turned his head and realized they were back in the hospital room. It seemed like a long time since he had drifted out of his body.

  Seeing himself now, on the bed, made the pain come back, or at least the memory of the pain. Once again he was reminded that the person he was on earth was gone, maybe forever.

  Merrilee pulled a tissue out of her purse and blew her nose. She sounded like a foghorn. Jacob shook his head in disbelief.

  "How can a woman who dresses to the nines blow her nose like a bullhorn in a factory?" Jacob asked.

  "You should hear her sneeze. Shakes the whole house," Danny replied.

  "Hope she doesn't sneeze in here. The last thing you need is a cold."

  "What's she doing here anyway? She hates me."

  "I don't think so. Listen."

  Merrilee licked her lips, looked over her shoulder to determine if she was still alone, then gazed back down at Danny.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered. "For all the mean things I said, all the criticism. You're not a bad kid. In fact, sometimes I wish William had your athletic ability, your joy for life. You get that from your mother, I guess. Jenny loves you so much. She can't make it without you. You have to fight this, Danny, fight hard. As hard as you've ever fought for anything in your life."