by Frank Downey
"My brother? What was that about?" Kristin asked after he hung up.
"I'll tell you in a couple minutes. I need to make a few calls." Kristin watched, bemused, as Tom called a couple people. When he was done, he turned to her.
"You met Allison Bowman," Tom said. Kristin nodded. "Evidently she called Warren in tears today. Her coach, Ron Aztov, has completely gone off the deep end. Yelling, screaming, demanding she scrap the programs Warren and Soph choreographed for her, the whole bit. She called Warren for advice."
"Damn. I liked Allison. She's sweet. What is she going to do?"
"She's leaving Ron. In fact, one of my calls was to Terri, my coach. Terri's going to take her on."
"That's great! Terri's a good coach, and she'll have you to look out for her," Kristin grinned.
"Now we just need to find her a place to live."
"You have an extra bedroom, Tom, you're not using it for anything," Kristin pointed out.
Tom looked at her in shock. "You wouldn't mind?"
"Of course not. I trust you."
Tom thought, not for the first time, how damn lucky he was. "You are something else, you know that?"
"Yup," Kristin grinned. "Go. Call Allison. Tell her her problems are solved." Tom grinned back and picked up the phone.
* * *
The next Friday, Allison arrived. Tom and Terri cancelled practice to help her move in. Kristin took off after school and drove to Acton to join them for the end of it.
When they were done, Tom, Kristin, and Allison were sitting on the sofa, relaxing.
"I can't thank you enough," Allison said, "for everything. Ron was getting completely out of hand. I like Terri already."
"Terri's great," Tom agreed.
"And thank you for letting me move in here," Allison smiled.
"Just so you know the ground rules," Kristin grinned. "He's taken."
"I knew that," Allison grinned back.
"Oh, and you'll have to put up with smooching," Tom pointed out.
"And you can just ignore those noises you might hear coming from his room," Kristin leered. "Like, tonight, if I have my way."
"Don't you always have your way?" Tom laughed.
"You're easy," Kristin teased.
"You two are a hoot," Allison laughed. "Don't worry, I think you guys are great together, and I know all about strange noises. I'm not nearly as innocent as I look."
"Good," Tom laughed.
"In fact, I'm close enough that my boyfriend might be able to visit. If I still have a boyfriend, that is," Allison said.
"There's a story in there," Tom said.
"Yeah. We've known each other since we were six. We've been best friends our whole life. When we were all of twelve, somehow we started kissing. Which turned into other things. And we went from best friends to boyfriend and girlfriend, just like that. However, he's from my home town-and I haven't lived there in over two years. I left to train with Ron two summers ago. I only go home for a few weeks at a time. We go right back into it whenever I'm home, but it's tough. I keep waiting for the email that says that he got tired of waiting and found someone else."
"That's rough," Kristin commiserated.
"Yes, it is. But it might just have gotten better. I picked Terri because she'll be a good coach, but I must say the location is much more desirable than California."
"Where are you from?" Tom asked.
"A small town just outside of Albany, New York."
"That's only a couple hours away!" Kristin said.
"Yup. And when I told Eddie about it, he was thrilled. So you might be hearing some noises from my room in a weekend or two," Allison grinned.
"Good!" Kristin laughed.
* * *
The next night was the talent show. Kristin watched the first few acts from back stage, her nervousness quickly mounting. By the time it was time for her to go on, she was practically panicking. She walked out on stage, almost shaking, and then looked out into the audience and found Tom. He smiled at her, and gave her a thumbs up. She smiled back, took a deep breath, and sat at the piano.
Since it was a talent show, there'd been all sorts of stuff presented on stage. Comedy, singing, juggling, skits. Kristin was almost going to play something pop, but decided to play Beethoven--Tom's favorite, the Pathetique Sonata.
Tom was right-it was easier once she started playing. Concentrating on the notes, it was easier for her to pretend she was playing alone, or just for Tom. She sailed through it.
And, the applause was thunderous. Now she knew what Tom meant.
Chapter 140 - Domestic Responsibilities
"Got any basil in this place?" Jess grumbled one night.
"Sorry, Jess, no basil," Warren told her.
"Who does the shopping around here anyway?" she said.
"He does," Sophie said, pointing at Warren.
"Good. I'm going with you next time," Jessie told him. "Hey, if I'm going to help with the cooking, I need to help with the shopping."
"OK," Warren grinned.
* * *
That Saturday, Warren and Jess headed out to the supermarket.
"So, you went out with Ryan last night. How was it?" Warren asked.
"Great. He's very nice, you know. Nothing like his partner."
"Yup!"
"I had a very good time. He asked me to go out again, I accepted, and we'll see."
"Great."
Jessie sighed. "I feel funny talking about this with you."
"Yeah, I know," Warren agreed. "But it's OK, Jess. I'm your friend first and foremost. I want you to be happy."
"Thanks," she grinned. "I don't know, it's almost like telling my boyfriend about my new boyfriend."
"Yeah, but it's different, you know that."
"I do know that. You guys have never tried to tie me down."
"Plus, it's new, with Ryan. Hey, if it doesn't work out, you know you have a place. If it does? Well, then, you won't be looking back, I don't think."
"Maybe. We'll see."
They got to the grocery store, and grabbed a cart. They walked through the store, chatting about not much, picking out their selections.
Afterwards, they loaded up Warren's minivan, and headed out.
"Now I have my fresh basil," Jess teased.
"And your fresh oregano, and your fresh parsley, and your fresh dill--I think we bought out the herb section."
"Well, you bought out the chocolate section."
"Oh, yeah? Who put the Nestle's Crunch in the basket, huh?"
Jess grinned at him. "Guilty." Then she turned and looked back out the windshield.
And screamed.
Chapter 141 - The Accident
Warren opened his eyes and looked around. "Where am I?" he asked.
"In an ambulance," a man in a uniform next to him told him.
"What happened?"
"You were in a car accident."
"Jesus. I don't remember a thing."
"You knocked yourself out, but we think you're going to be OK."
"What about my friend, Jessie? The girl in the car with me?"
"I don't know, pal. She's in the other ambluance. What's your name, anyhow?"
"Warren."
"I'm Fred. We'll get you to the hospital and get you fixed up."
"Can someone call my wife?"
"Sure," Fred grinned, and pulled out his cell phone. "Does your wife know you were out with your 'friend'?" he joked.
"Jessie's not just my friend, she's my wife's best friend. She lives with us. We were out grocery shopping. We do all the cooking, so my wife stayed at home with our daughter."
"Nice arrangement," Fred grinned. Oh, if he only knew, Warren thought! "What's your number?"
Warren gave it to him, and the EMT dialed it on his cell phone. He handed the phone to Warren.
"Honey? It's Warren. Don't panic, but there's been an accident. They're taking us to the hospital at the University."
* * *
Sophia showed up at the ho
spital only a few minutes after the ambulances did. She found Warren in the emergency room.
"Oh, Snugglebear!" she hissed, seeing him there.
"Hiya, Pookie."
"You look horrible!"
"Thanks. How's Jess?"
"I don't know, I came to you first."
"Where's Betsy?"
"Paul and Cait have her. Do they know if there's any damage yet?"
"No, but I can tell you-there's something wrong with my right leg."
"Oh, not your leg!"
"Yeah. I don't know what, but it feels like it got run over."
"Oh, Jesus. Do you know what happened?"
"Nope. The last thing I remember was cruising along, talking to Jess about all the fresh herbs she bought. The next thing after that is waking up in the ambluance. Hey, we're not going to know anything until the doc gets here to check me out. Go see if you can find Jess."
"Good idea." She went, and came back a few minutes later.
"Warren? Jessie's still unconscious."
* * *
"OK, this is the deal," the doctor was telling Warren, with Sophie there. "Warren, you had a mild concussion, but you'll be fine there. It was very minor, but that's why you were out for a few minutes-that, and shock. You have bruised ribs, but that's minor. The big problem is your right knee.
"It's bad, Warren, I won't minimize it. Both your anterior cruciate and medial collateral ligaments are torn. There's torn cartilege. It's a mess. You're going to need it reconstructed."
"Oh shit oh shit oh shit," Warren groaned.
"This is repairable, Warren. You'll be able to live a normal life, no problem."
"Will I be able to skate?" he asked. The doctor looked at him questioningly. "Sophia and I are competitive ice dancers. In fact, we're past world champions. And the Olympics are less than a year and a half away."
"Ah," the doctor said. "My honest answer to that? I don't know. However, there's been athletes that have done quite a number on their knees and have come back from it. I'm a skier, myself-purely recreational, but I follow the competitive skiing, and I remember Picabo Street coming back from a hell of a knee injury."
"You're right," Warren said.
"What we're going to do is we're keeping you overnight. Even with a mild head injury, we have to do that. And we're going to have an orthopedic man check you out while you're here. You're going to need surgery, I know that much. But we'll make sure the orthopedic guy knows about you being an athlete."
"OK, Doc."
A few hours later, Warren had been settled into a regular room. Sophie came in.
"Jessie's still unconscious. I called her parents. They're flying out here."
"I talked to mine," Warren told her, "and I told them not to fly out here. I told them I'd let them know what was going on--since I wasn't in a coma or anything, and it was just my knee, there was nothing they could do."
"Yeah."
Just then, a policeman came into the room, asking to speak to Warren. "Sure," Warren said, "but I have to tell you, I don't remember anything."
"Nothing?"
"I was driving, talking to Jessie about the groceries we had bought." He turned to Sophia. "She'd bought piles of fresh herbs, I was kidding her about buying the store right out of them." Sophia giggled. Warren turned back to the cop. "The next thing I remember is waking up in the ambulance. I don't even know what I hit."
"Another car."
"Oh, shit!" Warren hissed. "The other people, are they, you know..."
The cop sighed. "The driver is a guy about your age. He's in rough shape. They had to operate on him for some sort of internal bleeding. They don't know if he'll pull through. His girlfriend, who was in the passenger's seat, is fine. Look, Warren, we have eyewitnesses. Every single on of them told us that he ran a red light. You had a green."
"I'm glad witnesses told you, because I wouldn't have been able to. I don't remember."
"I know, but everyone did, including the girlfriend, the passenger in the other car. She confirmed that he ran a red light. Also, he had a blood alcohol level of .17. You were tested, of course--yours was zero. This accident wasn't your fault."
"That's good to know, but still..."
"I know," the cop said sympathetically. "Anyhow, we might have some later questions."
"That's fine."
The cop left and Warren looked at Sophia. "Shit. I know it wasn't my fault, but, shit."
"I know, Snugglebear."
* * *
The next morning, Warren was waiting for the orthopedic doctor to show up. Sophia beat him there.
"Jess is still out," she told Warren worriedly. "She hasn't come out of the coma."
"Do they know what's wrong?" Warren asked.
"Severe concussion. That, and shock, are what's got her in the coma. They're confident she'll come out of it. But they don't know how she'll be when she comes out of it."
"They're worried about brain damage," Warren said.
"Exactly. Her parents are on their way. I'm so worried."
"I am too, Pookie. You know how I feel about Jess."
Just then the orthopedic surgeon came in. They discussed options. Surgery was really the only one, and the doc didn't know how bad things were until he got in there. Warren was going to stay in the hospital for a couple of days, and they'd hope to do the surgery soon, as soon as the swelling went down.
After the Doc had left, a teenaged girl, about seventeen, appeared in the door. She was accompanied by two people who were apparently her parents. "Are you Warren Kelleher?" she asked.
"Yes," he said, "can I help you?"
The poor girl looked downcast. "I'm Suzanne. I was, well, that was my boyfriend... I was in the other car. I just wanted to apologize."
"For what?" Warren asked. "You weren't driving. Come on in," he said, waving her in. She introduced her parents, and Warren introduced Sophie.
Suzanne sat in the chair by the bed. "No, I wasn't driving, but I should've been. I tried to get the keys from Adam. Evidently I didn't try hard enough. I knew he had been drinking."
"How is he?" Warren asked.
"He's still in a coma."
"Jessie is, too." Warren said. Suzanne looked at him blankly. "My friend, the girl that was in the car with me."
"Oh, no!" Suzanne wailed.
"Look. It wasn't your fault. None of it."
Suzanne started crying. Her parents looked on with dismay. "Are you OK?" she managed through her sobs.
"It's just my knee," Warren smiled. "They're going to have to reconstruct it, but they think I'll come out of it OK."
"You won't have any problem walking?" Suzanne's father asked.
"Oh, no, I'm not even worried about that," Warren laughed. "I tore two ligaments and some cartilege. Walking won't be a problem. It's skating that I'm worried about. The Olympics are 16 months away. And we'd like to compete this year, at least at Worlds, which is, what, five months away? I'm having surgery this week, and then we'll see."
"Skating?" Suzanne asked. "The Olympics? You might skate in the Olympics?"
"We already did once," Sophia smiled. "We won a silver medal in the last Olympics. This time it's gold or bust. We're ice dancers."
"I knew I recognized you from somewhere!" Suzanne's mother said.
"Oh, God, you're that good and you wrecked your knee?" Suzanne whined, dismayed again.
"Suzanne, it wasn't your fault!" Warren reiterated.
"I really did try to get the keys," Suzanne said, sobbing again. "But Adam gets, well, he gets upset easily when he's been drinking." Warren and Sophie shared a look-they strongly suspected that 'upset easily' was an understatement. "I didn't push hard enough to get the keys."
"Does he hit you?" Sophie asked quietly. Suzanne just looked at her, wide-eyed.
"My God," her mother said, "we didn't know any of this. Adam's a little older, and we worried about that, but he always seemed like a nice young man."
Suzanne looked completely disconsolate. Warren and Sop
hie shared another look. Sophie stood up, looked at Suzanne, and said, "Come on. We need to take a walk, you and I. Let's go down to the cafeteria and see what we can rustle up for lunch. My treat."
Suzanne looked at her, confused. "Come on. Trust me," Sophie told her, while Warren was saying the same thing with his eyes to her parents. Finally, Suzanne looked at her parents, who gave her a nod, then shrugged and followed Sophie out the door.
When they left, her father asked Warren, "What was that all about?"
Warren sighed. "Sophie suspects, I can tell, that Suzanne's only telling the tip of the iceberg. I think that guy's doing a number on your daughter."
"And your wife thinks she can do something?"
"When I first met Sophie, she was being abused by her boyfriend, and it had been going on for some time, with more than one boyfriend. Keep in mind that she was all of fourteen at the time." Both parents gasped. "She's lived it, and she counselled other girls about it back in high school. Believe me, she's the best person for Suzanne to be talking to right now. It took a shock to the system to wake Sophie up, plus a sympathetic person in her life-that was me, by the way," he grinned. "I think Suzanne just had the shock to her system. Sophie's trying to be the sympathetic listener. She's very good at it."
Suzanne's parents left, stopping off to see her and tell her to give them a call when she wanted to be picked up. A couple of hours later, Sophie came back to the room.
"As bad as you thought?" Warren asked.
"Yeah. Well, apparently, he's a complete sweetheart when he's sober. When he's drunk, he's a monster. And his drunk episodes are increasing. He's 21, she's only 17, that's a problem right there. She's completely cowed by him-and she's truly in love with the sober one. What a mess."
"It's a moot point if he doesn't get better."
"And she's completely broken up about that. You think she's blaming herself for you? She told me she looks at him lying there in ICU and just cries 'why didn't I take the keys?' The poor kid's a mess."
