by Francis Ray
Madison came unsteadily to her feet. “I should call Wes’s parents.”
Gordon paused, a tea bag in his hand. “I don’t mind calling them.”
She took a deep breath. “They deserve to hear it from me.” Walking over, she picked up the phone, very aware that her hand was trembling.
Gordon watched Madison for a brief moment, then turned to the silent man standing across the room. “Zachary, I’m Gordon Armstrong, Madison’s friend, and producer. Sorry I didn’t get your last name.”
“It’s Holman.” Zachary shook his head when Gordon lifted a cup. His attention was centered on Madison who clutched the phone in one hand and rested her forehead in the palm of the other. The phone call wasn’t going to be easy.
Zachary could imagine the reaction of Wes’s parents. Wes was everything to them. They loved him unconditionally and exclusively, leaving no room for anyone else.
Madison had planned on being strong, but the instant she heard the East Texas twang in Wes’s father’s voice, the tears started. She couldn’t seem to get them to stop or to get the words to come out.
The phone was gently removed from her hand. Through a sheen of tears she saw Zachary hunkered down in front of her holding up the phone to Gordon who traded the cup of tea for the phone. Just as gently, Zachary folded her trembling hands around the delicate rose-patterned cup.
“Mr. Reed, this is Gordon Armstrong,” he said into the receiver. “I’m afraid I have some bad news for you. Wes has been injured in an automobile accident. He’s at Parkland Hospital.” Gordon laid a comforting hand on Madison’s trembling shoulder. “His condition is serious. He’s in surgery now. They were kind enough to have Madison wait in a private conference room on the fifth floor. Ask for Ann Crane when you get here and they’ll get you to us. All right. Good-bye.”
“I’m sor—”
“You’re entitled,” Gordon said, cutting her off. “Get her to drink that tea. I’ll just step outside and make a couple of calls to let the staff know what’s going on.”
Zachary’s large hands closed around hers. “Drink up. You’ll feel better.”
Madison shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“It’s almost two. If I recall, from the months of building your house, you didn’t eat much for breakfast and tended to call a Danish or a candy bar lunch.” He urged the cup back to her mouth. “You’re running on nerves now, you need the sugar.”
Madison drank the tea she didn’t want and couldn’t taste. It seemed easier than arguing. Finished, she handed Zachary the cup. Arms folded, she leaned her head back against the chair, closed her eyes, and prayed.
Friends and co-workers came in a steady stream to offer their support. As some left, new arrivals took their place. Refreshments had been replenished twice.
Although Madison appreciated their coming, she wished for a few moments of quiet, for some time when she didn’t have to make polite conversation. Because behind the bright chatter she could hear their fear. Wes had been in surgery for more than four hours. For some reason her gaze kept going to Zachary, who remained apart from everyone else. It was almost as if he wanted to be invisible.
Vanessa and A.J. Reed’s arrival brought an immediate stop to the hushed conversation in the room. Fear sparkled in the eyes that swept the room for her daughter-in-law. “Madison!” It was half cry, half wail.
Madison felt the tears brim again. Wes’s mother had always been so controlled. Now she appeared near her breaking point. Madison’s heart went out to the older woman. They had their differences, but there had never been any doubt about Vanessa, love for Wes. Madison left the group and crossed the room to her.
“Have you heard anything else?” Vanessa asked frantically.
“No, he’s still in surgery,” Madison bit her lower lip. “The doctor is supposed to come up as soon as he finishes.”
“I can’t wait any longer. The weather was bad at Hobby Airport in Houston and they held up the flight. I almost went crazy waiting. I want to know now. I can’t stand this.” Vanessa whirled toward her husband, a big, rawboned man with wide shoulders and broad features, her voice demanding, and high-pitched. “Don’t you know anyone on the hospital board you can get to intercede on our behalf? They have speakers in the operating room. I want to know how my son is doing.”
Madison had never heard Vanessa speak above a polite whisper, but she caught herself looking hopefully at Wes’s father. She’d tried to be patient, but … “Could you do that?”
A.J. was already reaching inside his coat for his cell phone. “I don’t know anyone on the board, but I know someone who probably does.” He began to punch in numbers.
“Excuse me, Mr. Reed,” Gordon said. “You’ll need to use the phone on the credenza. Use of cell phones is prohibited in the hospital.”
For a moment A.J. looked as if he might keep on dialing, then he slipped the phone back into the inside pocket of his tailored jacket and went to use the phone Gordon had indicated. “This is A.J. Reed. I need to speak to Mayor Jones. It’s an emergency.”
In a matter of moments A.J. was speaking again. “Doug, my boy’s been in an accident. We’re at Parkland Hospital now and can’t find out anything. Can you call someone to contact the surgeon in the operating room for us and see what’s going on? Yes. The number here is—It’s on your caller ID. I see. Thank you.” He let the receiver fall back into the cradle. “He’ll call us back.”
“I can’t stand this waiting!” Vanessa wailed again.
“Wes will come though this,” Madison said, gently touching the woman’s shoulder. “Maybe we’ll know something soon.”
Sharp eyes lanced back up at Madison. “You’re in the media. Why haven’t you used your influence to find out what is going on?”
Madison was taken aback by the rebuff, but she had never backed down from Wes’s parents. She had no intention of starting now. “I thought of it while I’ve waited, but I also thought I didn’t want to disturb the doctor while he’s operating. I want his total concentration on helping Wes.”
Vanessa’s gaze narrowed as if she couldn’t quite make up her mind if she’d been rebuked or not.
“Would you like some tea, Mrs. Reed?” Gordon interjected smoothly as he came to stand by Madison.
Vanessa’s expression immediately softened. “Yes, thank you.”
“Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll bring it to you.” Gordon turned to Mr. Reed. “Would you like anything? There’s also bottled water, coffee, and soft drinks.”
“No.”
Vanessa started toward the cream-colored velvet sofa in a quiet area of the room, then came to an abrupt halt. Her smooth features tensed.
Madison followed the direction of her mother-in-law’s gaze and saw Zachary, arms folded, casually leaning against the wall near the couch. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” Vanessa said, then turned away. “That love seat over there simply looks more comfortable.”
“Of course,” Madison said, taking the woman’s arm and walking with her to the plump, upholstered love seat on the other side of the room.
Madison looked back at Zachary. She could read nothing in his closed expression. She rubbed her forehead. Everybody was tense and the waiting was making it worse.
Suddenly the phone on the credenza rang. A.J. snatched it up. “Yes?”
Madison and Vanessa both came to their feet.
A.J.’s face became more haggard as the conversation lengthened. Finally he hung up. Madison was almost afraid to hear what he had to say.
“A.J.?” Vanessa asked.
“They’re just finishing up. The doctor should be up shortly.”
FOUR
THE DOOR OPENED AND all eyes centered on the tall, lanky man with a long face in a green scrub suit, a white surgical cap, and paper shoe covers. “I’m Dr. London. Is Mr. Reed’s wife, here?”
“I’m his wife.” Madison’s throat felt sandpaper-dry.
“Let’s give the family some priva
cy,” Gordon said, holding the door open. One by one they passed by with a word of comfort, a quick hug or a reassuring hand.
Madison barely noticed; all her attention was on the doctor. “Please, how is he?”
“Perhaps you should sit down.”
“No. Just tell me.”
“Your husband sustained extensive internal injuries when the car pinned him against the guardrail.”
Madison heard Vanessa cry out, felt the churning in her own stomach, and fought to hold back her own fear and the nausea clawing at her throat. She swallowed reflexively.
Dr. London’s blue eyes watched her closely for a long moment before continuing. “The liver and the left kidney were damaged. We resectioned the liver, but couldn’t save the kidney. It was touchy in the operating room. The next twenty-four hours are going to be rough.”
“W-will he be all right?” Madison asked.
“We’ll just have to take it minute by minute,” Dr. London answered. He gave her no false hope to hang on to. No illusions. All she could think of was that this morning Wes had had such hopes for the future. If she had said yes, maybe she could have prevented this and Wes wouldn’t be fighting for his life. “Can I see him?”
“He’ll be in the recovery room for at least another hour or longer, then he’ll be transferred to ICU,” Dr. London explained. “I’ll tell his nurse to call up here and let you come in for a few minutes when they get him settled. The waiting area is not as comfortable or as nice as this.”
“It doesn’t matter. I want to see him as soon as possible.” Madison quickly picked up her purse and slung the strap over her shoulder. “Where do I go?”
“Fourth floor. Get off the elevator and turn left,” Dr. London answered. “Have the nurse page me if you have questions after you see him.”
“I will. Thank you.” After Dr. London left the room Madison turned to her in-laws. “Would you like to go with me to wait?”
“If I could see Wes you couldn’t keep me away, but you heard the doctor. He won’t be in ICU for an hour, perhaps longer. It’s pointless to wait there instead of here,” Vanessa said, her displeasure with her daughter-in-law abundantly clear.
Madison didn’t even look toward A.J. She’d learned when Vanessa made a decision, A.J. followed. “If you need anything while I’m gone, contact Ann Crane.” In the hallway, she quickly explained the situation to Gordon and the people who had waited. After handshakes and hugs, everyone left except Gordon.
“You’ve been here long enough,” Madison told him. “You can leave. I’ll be fine.”
He took her cold hands in his. “I’m going with you to ICU.”
Madison loved and appreciated Gordon even more for wanting to be with her, but she knew he’d been working sixteen-hour days for the past week at the station. He had to be exhausted. He was just too stubborn and too good of a friend to leave her. Although she didn’t want to go to ICU alone, it wouldn’t be as draining for him here as it would be with her. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather you stay here to answer the phone and let the people who drop by know what’s going on.”
“You shouldn’t wait alone,” Gordon told her.
“Maybe I can help,” Zachary said, coming to stand by them. “If Madison doesn’t mind, I’ll wait with her.”
Gordon sent Madison a questioning look. She stared at Zachary. She hadn’t realized he had followed her. He was Wes’s friend, not hers.
“I just want to help,” Zachary said softly, as if he sensed her quandary.
She thought back to when he’d built their house. He’d been hardworking, honest, and dependable. He’d shown that same dependability by staying with Wes after the accident. He was as worried and as concerned as they were. She could see it in his eyes and in the lines of strain around his mouth. “Thank you, Zachary. I’d appreciate the company.”
Dr. London had been right, Zachary thought, the ICU waiting room was drab and dreary, matching the tired faces of the people gathered there. The narrow windowless space smelled of stale coffee and fear. The end table, cluttered with magazines, Styrofoam cups, and soda cans, squatted next to a big brown Naugahyde sofa. Each seat was occupied. So were the walls, as people leaned against them.
He glanced at Madison, her arms wrapped around her slim body, the sparkle in her brown eyes dim. She was holding up better than Wes’s mother, but then Vanessa had come from a pampered life that had just been turned upside down. Madison family had struggled for a living. She was made of sterner stuff. In Zachary’s opinion, hers were the luckier of the two families.
“If you want to go back up, I’ll call,” Zachary said. They’d been waiting over an hour. Gordon had been down twice. A.J. and Vanessa once.
“I’m stay—” Madison stopped in midsentence as a loud wail cut off conversation as effectively as if someone had pulled a switch.
“Code blue. ICU. Code blue,” came the voice over the loudspeaker. The door behind her swung open and two men and a woman ran through.
Madison started to shake. “God, no! Please.”
Zachary’s long arm instinctively curved around her shoulder. “Easy, Madison. It’s not Wes.”
Her gaze lanced up to him, hopeful and terrified. “How do you know?”
“One of my men was in here a couple of months ago,” Zachary explained, feeling the erratic beat of her heart. “They have a back elevator, but don’t use it very much. All patients come through here.”
Madison began to breathe a little easier until she looked around the room at the stark faces. They had family and friends behind the double doors, and one of them was fighting for their life. She idly wondered if they regretted words spoken or unspoken, as she did. But she had time to make it right. Wes would survive.
The door to ICU opened again. Face expressionless, the woman who had run in earlier came back out looking neither to the left nor the right. A chill raced down Madison’s spine. She was unaware of stepping closer to Zachary, of his arm closing around her shoulder.
“Let’s step out for a minute,” he said. Not giving Madison a chance to protest, he led her out. They had gone only a few feet when another sound pierced the air. This time, the scream of a woman.
Madison felt the tears clawing at her throat. She opened her mouth to ask Zachary to excuse her. A sob came out instead.
His arms slid around her and pulled her close. “It’s all right. Go ahead and cry, but don’t give up. Please, don’t give up.”
Madison heard the thickness in Zachary’s voice and let the tears fall. Wes had to live. He had to.
Zachary was first to see the gurney roll off the elevator. He swiped a hand that wasn’t quite steady across his face and swallowed. He’d give anything for this not to have happened. “Madison. I think this may be Wes.”
Her head came up. She pushed away from the wall beside him, then followed his gaze down the hall. She started toward the gurney, but Zachary’s hand on her arm stopped her.
“If it’s Wes, he may look different,” Zachary warned, recalling how battered and bruised Wes had been when they wheeled him into the operating room.
Her heart shot up to her throat. On trembling legs, she walked to the gurney. At first she thought Zachary was wrong. This wasn’t Wes, this man whose face was swollen and marred. Then his eyelids fluttered open. Light-brown eyes that had once teased and cajoled, were now glazed and unfocused.
“Wes.” His name came out in a choked cry.
“Let’s get him in his room, then you can come in for just a few minutes,” said one of the men pushing the gurney.
Madison bit her lower lip. “His mother can’t see him like that.”
“This time Vanessa won’t have a choice.” Zachary took Madison’s trembling hand in his and followed the gurney.
In the ICU room machines beeped. Every inch of Wes’s body that Madison could see was bruised. An IV line ran from each arm. Another tube ran from the side of his neck. There were wires on his chest connecting him to a heart monitor. A clamp on his fing
ers monitored his temperature and respiration. A catheter bag dangled near the floor.
Silently, a cold knot in her stomach, her heart thudding erratically, Madison approached the bed. Zachary was close behind her, his presence providing an oasis of calm in the turmoil. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she stopped at the head of the bed.
Trying to stop trembling, Madison leaned to within inches of Wes’s face. Her heart clutched at the pitiful sight. Biting her lips, she forced the words out past the constriction in her throat. “Wes. I’m here. You’re going to be fine.” She swallowed before she was able to continue. “Your parents are here, too. Wes, please wake up.”
His eyelids fluttered then opened. She tried to smile and discovered the muscles in her face wouldn’t cooperate. “You’re going to be fine. When you get out we can go to Chicago just like you wanted.”
“Ma—” he gasped. The machine beeped louder.
“Don’t try to talk, Wes,” she pleaded, positive he was trying to say her name. “I’m here. I’m here.”
Wes closed his eyes, then opened them again. Pain and frustration shimmered in his hazel eyes. The machine beeped louder.
“M—an …”
“I’m here. Everything will be all right,” Madison said, her worried gaze going from Wes to the beeping machines.
The beeping sped up. Wide-eyed, Madison shot a quick look at the climbing numbers that monitored his blood pressure, then anxiously back at Wes, then Zachary. “What’s the matter? Can’t he see that I’m here?”
“I’m not sure, unless …” The frown on Zachary’s face cleared. He leaned down and spoke softly to Wes. “She’s fine. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything. I promise. Just get well.”
