The Mill River Redemption

by Darcie Chan

  She leaned over his face, looking for any sign of movement or awareness.

  “Alex, baby, Mommy is here. You’re in the hospital, but you’re going to be just fine. Can you hear me?”

  She got no response, no eye or facial movement. There was nothing except for the rhythmic sound of the ventilator breathing for her son.

  “Alex.” Rose bent lower over his face, low enough to brush her lips against his cheek. “I’m here, baby, and I love you,” she whispered. She wiped her eyes frantically as she straightened up. It always upsets him when I cry, she thought.

  “Rose,” Father O’Brien said softly, “take my hand.” The priest held his hand out to her. When she grasped it, Father O’Brien bowed his head and began to pray.

  “Heavenly Father, watch with us over your child Alex, and grant that he may be restored to that perfect health which is yours alone to give …”

  In that moment, as she stood with Father O’Brien, it was as if she were her seven-year-old self, dressed in a white gown ready to make her First Communion. She still remembered that day at the little stone church in Mill River. She had been a little nervous, standing up in front of the congregation. When it had been her turn to receive a wafer, the smile on Father O’Brien’s face had put her completely at ease.

  He was so much older now. What remained of his hair was sparse and white. His hand clasping her own was not nearly as steady as it had been when he had placed the first Communion wafer in her mouth. And yet, the kindness and warmth that had always emanated from Father O’Brien still reassured her as completely as they had when she was a child.

  “Father?” she whispered. When he turned to her, she looked into his elderly face and felt a nonjudgmental, unconditional love. “Everything you said to me earlier today … was true. If I had been … if I’d been awake to see Alex leave the house, he wouldn’t have gotten hurt. If he has brain damage, or if he … doesn’t wake up, it will be because of me … because of my drinking.” She took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady in Alex’s presence. “I need help. I want to be a good mom.” Her voice became quieter and raspy. “Alex might not wake up. If he does, if I get a second chance, I won’t take it for granted. But I’m not strong enough to do what I need to do myself.”

  Father O’Brien smiled at her in the same way he always had. “Of course I’ll help you. And, I have great faith that when your son wakes up, so will he.”

  CHAPTER 33

  IN THE KITCHEN OF HER LITTLE HOUSE ON MAIN STREET, Claudia put her hands on the counter and closed her eyes. The glass of milk she had poured for herself was empty, and there was one plain donut left in the Entenmann’s box that was open in front of her. She’d taken a bite from it, but she just couldn’t finish it. Her stomach felt as if it would explode.

  She closed the donut box and shoved it up into her cupboard. At the moment, she couldn’t even stand the sight of it. She took a sponge from the sink and methodically wiped up the crumbs and powdered sugar that were scattered on the countertops and floor around her. When she was satisfied with her cleanup, she walked into her bedroom, pulled off the powdered-sugar-smudged shirt she was wearing, and took a clean top from her closet. Finally, she went into the bathroom to wash her face.

  This is what gluttony looks like, she thought as she wet a washcloth and looked into the mirror. The tears that had run down her face while she was eating had mixed with cinnamon, powdered sugar, and bits of donut. The whole pasty mess had caked around her mouth and on her chin as if she had a white mustache and goatee.

  Once she had washed away the evidence of her gorging, she picked up her phone and dialed Kyle’s number.

  “Hey, sweetie!” he said when he heard her voice. “I was just thinking about you. How was your shopping trip?”

  “Fine,” she said, trying to keep her voice as normal as possible. “I’m not feeling too good now, though.”

  “You’re sick again? Is it the same thing as last night?”

  “Um-hmm, I think so.”

  “Do you want me to come over?”

  Claudia hesitated before answering. He sounded so genuinely concerned, and knowing what she knew, it hurt to answer him.

  “Could you?”

  “Of course. Let me see if Ruth can keep an eye on Rowen for a little while, and I’ll be there.”

  It took him only minutes to arrive at her front door. When she let him inside, he kissed her forehead and immediately embraced her, but she stiffened in his arms.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping back and looking down at her.

  She looked up into his face for the first time. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

  “Uh, okay.” He looked bewildered, and Claudia was impressed by his acting skills.

  “I want you to listen to me without interrupting,” she began. “This isn’t easy for me. I never thought I’d end up in a situation like this with you, but here I am.”

  Kyle opened and closed his mouth as she held up a finger.

  “I know about you and Emily.” She was trying her best to sound stern, but her voice was halting, and she was on the verge of tears. “I’ve suspected something’s been going on with you for a while now. The way you were talking to her at the police station that day, and I know you were over at her place to talk to her about the vandalism, even though you never mentioned that to me. I told myself I was imagining things. I almost had myself convinced of it, until I saw you leaving her house earlier today.”

  Kyle started to say something, but she cut him off.

  “I don’t want excuses or denials. I just want to know the reason you did it.”

  “Claudia, it’s not what you think. There’s nothing going on—”

  “That’s bullshit!” she yelled, and the tears began to flow. “Just tell me the truth. What was it about me that you didn’t like? Was I not pretty enough or funny enough? Was there not enough sex? Or did Emily just rock your world in some other way?” She was starting to feel nauseous. Her stomach wasn’t used to handling massive amounts of food, much less an overload of pure sugar and fat, and her emotional state did nothing to help.

  “God, Claudia,” Kyle said. “How could you think something like that? I love you, and I thought you felt the same way about me.” He shook his head, and his brown eyes narrowed in anger. “After all this time we’ve been together, do you really not trust me at all?”

  “Do you deny that you were at Emily’s today?”

  “No. And, quite frankly, I can’t believe you were checking up on me.”

  “I wasn’t,” she retorted. “I decided to drive past Rose’s house on my way home, to see the lawn vandalism you were talking about at the cookout, and there you were, coming out of Emily’s house. It didn’t look like you were there on police business, either.”

  “I wasn’t,” he said, with the same harsh tone that she’d used, but he didn’t elaborate further.

  Claudia raised her chin and tried to look determined. “Then I was right.”

  “No, you’re not. In fact, you couldn’t be further from the truth,” Kyle snapped. He wheeled around and walked out through her front door, slamming it shut behind him.

  With her stomach twisting uneasily, Claudia stood in her foyer long enough to hear him start his pickup before she ran for the bathroom. She barely made it in time to raise the toilet seat and lean over the bowl. She gasped and sobbed in between heaves, feeling as if she were disgorging more than the contents of her stomach. It was almost as though the wonderful memories she’d made with Kyle and the happiness that had warmed her soul for the past several months were being ripped out, piece by piece.

  When she was finally able to catch her breath, she flushed the toilet and sat back against the wall. Losing Kyle was too much to think about right now, too much for her aching heart and roiling stomach to handle. Feeling empty in every sense, she closed her eyes and tried not to think about anything at all.

  “HOW IS HE?” EMILY ASKED AS IVY CAME OUT OF ALEX’S HO
SPITAL room. While Alex was being moved to the pediatric critical care unit, she’d gone down to the cafeteria and brought back coffee and sandwiches for everyone. She was the only one who had yet to see Alex after his surgery, but she feared how Rose might react to her presence.

  “Still heavily sedated,” Ivy said. “Kid, it’s scary how fragile he looks, the poor thing. Rose is holding up, but just barely, I think. It’ll be a good thing when Sheldon gets here.” She looked with interest at the tray of cups and sandwiches Emily held.

  Father O’Brien approached them. “I just found out that there’s a Ronald McDonald House near the hospital. Since it looks like Alex will be here a while, I’ll call over a little later, once it’s open for the day, and see if there’s any space available for Rose and Sheldon. In the meantime, they also operate a family room for parents and relatives of sick children over on the fifth floor of the Baird Building. You can get cleaned up or even take a nap over there.”

  “Thank you, Father,” Ivy said. “I hadn’t even thought about how long we might be here.”

  “Anything I can do to help,” he said.

  “I’m not sure Rose will want to leave Alex’s room, but she’ll need to rest at some point to keep her strength up,” Ivy said. “Em, we can take that tray and sit down out here if you want to go on in.”

  “Sure,” Emily said. She handed the tray to Father O’Brien and then took a cup of coffee and a sandwich from it. Ivy leaned wearily on her cane and started walking toward the waiting area. The priest didn’t follow her aunt immediately, though. Instead, he turned to Emily with a thoughtful expression.

  “Emily, do you remember the conversation we had yesterday? When I asked you whether you still loved your sister?” he asked in a quiet voice. When she nodded, he continued. “I think what’s happened to Alex has had a profound effect on Rose. And, I think that if there’s anything left of the love you once felt for her, she needs to know it, and feel it, now more than ever.”

  Father O’Brien held her gaze for a moment longer before he headed in Ivy’s direction. Emily took a deep breath and quietly entered Alex’s room.

  Rose was sitting in a chair at his bedside. One of her hands rested on Alex’s small arm, and her head was slumped forward until her chin nearly touched her chest. Emily tried to ease the heavy door closed, but the soft click of the latch startled her sister awake.

  “It’s just me,” Emily said as Rose’s head snapped up. “I brought you some things from the cafeteria.” She approached slowly and handed Rose the cup and the foil-wrapped sandwich. “The coffee’s not great, but I figured it was better than nothing.”

  “Thanks,” Rose said. She set the sandwich on a rolling table next to Alex’s bed and took a sip from the cup.

  Emily stood staring at Alex. He was so still, other than the subtle rising and falling of his chest, and it was heart-wrenching to see his slight form connected by countless tubes and wires to so many monitors and other equipment surrounding the bed.

  “Has there been any change?” Emily whispered.

  Rose shook her head. “The doctors said there shouldn’t be while he’s sedated like this.”

  “Do you know how long they’ll keep him this way?”

  “At least a day, maybe more. It depends on what happens with the pressure on his brain.” Rose reached up to Alex’s face and gently stroked his cheek, then the bit of his forehead that wasn’t covered by the bandages.

  Emily nodded, although Rose’s gaze didn’t leave Alex to notice it.

  “I suppose Sheldon should be here soon, right?” She saw a tear slip from the corner of her sister’s eye and run down her cheek.

  “Soon, I hope.”

  Emily nodded again, feeling awkward and out of place. She took a few steps back and was about to make a quiet exit when Rose spoke again.

  “I understand now,” she said. “What I took from you.”

  Emily froze. Rose slowly turned her tearstained face and looked up at her.

  “Alex is the most wonderful, precious thing in my life, just like Andy was in yours. If Alex doesn’t wake up, or even if he does and he’s not himself, it’ll be because of me. Just like Andy’s death was because of me.”

  Emily felt her breathing becoming ragged as Rose’s words went straight into her middle, slicing into a hurt that remained deep inside her.

  “I was drinking that day, during the afternoon, before Mom asked me to pick up Andy. I’d been sleeping for a few hours before she woke me up, so I figured I was okay to drive. A deer did jump out in front of us on the way home. I don’t know how fast we were going, but I didn’t react in time. It was almost like everything was in slow motion. I swerved to avoid the deer, and then the car was flying through the air. I honestly wasn’t sure whether the alcohol affected my driving or not. I’m still not. But it might have. I was afraid of going to jail, and I didn’t admit anything after the accident. Why would I, when my blood alcohol level was normal when they tested it? Besides, the damage was done. There wasn’t anything I could do to change things, to bring Andy back. I just told myself over and over again that it was completely an accident, hoping I could convince myself of that.”

  Emily was trembling as she listened to her sister. She was afraid of what she might say if she tried to speak. She wiped her tears with the heel of her hand and wrapped her arms around her middle.

  “I knew, deep down, what I’d done,” Rose said, leaning forward to smooth the blanket covering Alex’s chest. “On some level, I knew I was responsible for Andy’s death and for messing up your life. But, I didn’t really acknowledge it. I pushed it away. For all these years, I’ve tried to ignore the guilt and go on with my life. I’ve been so selfish, and I never knew or even tried to understand how it must’ve been for you, losing someone you loved with everything in you.”

  “You still don’t know how it feels, not really,” Emily whispered, looking at Alex.

  “Maybe that’s true,” Rose admitted. “I can hardly think about the ‘what ifs’ with Alex. I’m not as strong as you are, Em. I don’t think I could survive losing him.”

  “For Alex’s sake, I hope that’s not something you have to find out.” Emily turned and reached for the doorknob.

  “Emily?”

  She stopped, wanting desperately to leave the room and ignore her sister, but for reasons she couldn’t comprehend, she turned back to look at Rose.

  “I am truly sorry for what I did to you. And to Andy. For all these years I refused to acknowledge it, and what I am. I’m … I’m an alcoholic. Probably have been since high school. It was always easier to drink than deal with a problem, and then after the accident, it was the only way I could escape the guilt.” Rose’s body shook from the force of her sobs.

  “It’s pathetic that it would have to come to this for you to admit anything,” Emily said. “You should’ve dealt with your drinking a long time ago.”

  “You’re right,” Rose choked. “I should’ve asked Mom for help. A couple times, I almost did, but each time, I convinced myself that she’d compare me to her own mother and turn her back. I’ll always regret that I never reached out to her before she died. But, I did just ask Father O’Brien to help me get clean, because I want to be a better mom for Alex if … when he wakes up. He deserves that. Just like Sheldon deserves a better wife, and you deserve a better sister. So, I’m asking you whether you could find it in your heart to give me that chance. Is there any way you could forgive me for what I’ve done to you?”

  Emily stared at Rose for a long, silent minute. “If I had been responsible for Alex’s accident,” she finally said, “would you be able to forgive me?”

  Rose looked again at Alex. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “It would be hard, maybe impossible. I don’t think there would even be a chance of me forgiving anyone for something like that unless I loved the person who did it just as much.”

  Does love really enable forgiveness, or does it make it harder? Maybe it does both, Emily thought.

 
Memories began swirling through her head faster and faster. Rose, sitting next to her in the seat on the school bus, yelling at the fourth-grade bullies to shut up after they’d made fun of her red hair. Rose yanking hard on that same hair during a squabble as she’d pulled on her sister’s blonde hair at the same time. Rose reading to her at bedtime all those nights when their mother had been working late. She and Rose sitting in their room, both of them covered in chicken pox and dabbing calamine lotion over the unreachable itchy welts on each other’s backs. Rose secretly and meticulously supergluing their mother’s favorite mug back together after the dishwasher incident. Rose “borrowing” her allowance money without asking so that Linx could pick up a six-pack after she’d snuck out the window. Rose teaching her how to put on eye makeup and telling her how it felt to kiss a boy. Rose sobbing and slurring on the phone while Emily had been trying to study for her college midterms. And after that Christmas visit when she’d finally brought Andy home to meet her family, Rose hugging her goodbye and whispering how happy it made her to know she’d found such a great guy.

  When Emily closed her eyes, trying to make some sense out of the emotional vortex in which she was caught, it was Father O’Brien’s face that appeared in her head. “You were inseparable … you loved each other very much,” he’d said, and of course it was true. She had loved Rose, in spite of and because of their differences, through those years of arguments and tears before Rose had left home, and afterward, until Andy had died. The question now was whether any of that love remained. Father O’Brien’s quiet, ancient voice echoed deep within her, “If you still love her at all, you may not recognize it right now. But, I think you do, and that love is the key to forgiving her for what she did.”

  The heavy door to the room suddenly swung open, and Sheldon burst in.