The officers turned on the siren before they left the driveway, and took off at a terrifying speed with Sabrina right behind them. They hit ninety when they got on the highway, and she stayed within two feet of him for the entire drive. They were at Bridgeport Hospital within minutes. Their father hadn't stopped crying since they left the house.
“Why didn't I go to the store for her? I could have done it. I didn't even think to ask her.” He was blaming himself, as Sabrina parked in the hospital lot and looked at him for a minute before they got out, and then took him in her arms.
“If you had done that, she'd have been here crying over you, Dad. It happened. We can think about that later. We have to see what happened to Annie, and get her through this somehow.” Sabrina was hoping that she wasn't as badly injured as they all feared. With any luck at all, their sister would be spared. It was bad enough to lose their mother, unthinkable in fact, but right now all she could allow herself to think about was Annie. She waited for the others to get out, which seemed to take forever, set the alarm on her father's car, and waved her thanks at the highway patrolmen for getting them there so fast. They ran straight into the emergency room and were sent to the trauma unit, where the woman at the desk said Annie had been taken. Sabrina ran down the hall, with Candy and Tammy behind her, and her father bringing up the rear. Sabrina wanted to console him, but they had Annie to think about right now. There was nothing they could do for their mother. Somehow, as they walked into the trauma unit, Sabrina felt sure she would see her mother waiting for them, telling them Annie was going to be okay. The reality they encountered was far different.
The chief resident in the trauma unit came out to see them immediately, as soon as Sabrina gave their names. He said that Annie was barely clinging to life and needed brain and eye surgery as soon as possible, to relieve pressure on her brain and hopefully save her sight. But as he looked at all of them, he didn't pull any punches and said that Annie's injury was greatest in the part of her brain that affected her vision.
“I don't know if we can save her sight,” he said bluntly. “Right now I'm more concerned with keeping her alive.”
“So are we,” Tammy said, as Candy stared at him in horror.
“She's an artist! You have to save her eyes!” He nodded and said nothing, showed them the CT scans and X-rays on a light box in the waiting room, and told them he was waiting for the best possible brain surgeon and ophthalmologist to come in. Both had been called. Since it was the Fourth of July, neither of them was on duty, but luckily their answering services had reached them. The brain surgeon had phoned to say he was on the way, and they had just reached the eye surgeon at a family barbecue. He had said he would be there in less than half an hour. Annie was on life support in the meantime. Her heart had stopped twice on the way in, and she was no longer breathing on her own. But her brain waves were normal. As far as they could tell, there was no major brain damage so far. The swelling of her brain was going to cause some real problems very shortly, but what the resident said he was most worried about were her eyes. If she survived the accident at all, there was a good chance her brain would return to normal. From what he had seen of the damage Annie had sustained in the accident, he couldn't imagine their being able to save her sight. His greatest concern was that her optic nerves were damaged beyond repair. But miracles did happen, and they needed one now.
The brain surgeon walked in as they were looking at the films of Annie's brain. After looking at them himself, he explained what the procedure would be, what the risks were, and how long it would probably take. He didn't pull any punches either, and said that there was a very real possibility that Annie could die in surgery. But they had no other choice. He said clearly that without surgery to relieve the swelling, Annie could be severely brain-damaged forever, or might die.
“Annie would hate that,” Tammy whispered to her sisters, about her being brain-damaged. They agreed to let him operate, and both Sabrina and Tammy signed the release forms. Their father was in no condition to do anything except sit in a chair in the waiting room, crying for his wife. His daughters were afraid he'd have a heart attack, and Candy had to sit down, saying she thought she was going to faint. Candy and their father sat there together, crying and holding hands. Sabrina and Tammy were just as shocked as they were, but they were on their feet and talking, and in the front lines.
Moments after the brain surgeon left to examine Annie again, the ophthalmologist walked in, and explained his part of the procedure to them. It was infinitely delicate surgery, and he was honest when he looked at the films. He said it was a very, very long shot for him to be able to save Annie's sight, but he thought it was worth a try. Between the two procedures, they were told by both surgeons that the combined operation would take somewhere between six and eight hours, and they warned them that there was a very real chance that their sister might not survive. She was hovering near death now.
“Can we see her before the surgery?” Tammy asked the resident, and he nodded.
“She's in pretty bad shape. Are you sure you're all right?” Sabrina and Tammy both nodded and then turned to where their father and Candy were sitting. They walked over to them and asked if they wanted to see Annie before she went into surgery. They didn't say it, but it was possible that it was the last time any of them would see her alive. Their father just shook his head and turned his face away. He was already dealing with more than he could handle, and he had been told he would have to identify his wife's body, which was downstairs in the morgue. Candy looked at her two oldest sisters in horror and sobbed louder.
“Oh my God, I can't … oh my God … Annie …and Mom …” Their baby sister was completely falling apart, which didn't surprise either of them. They left Candy and their father in the waiting room and followed the resident into the trauma unit, where Annie was.
She was in a small curtained-off area with a forest of tubes and monitors hanging from her. She had been intubated for the respirator and her nose taped closed. Four nurses and two residents were working on her, watching her vital signs closely. Her blood pressure had dropped, and they were fighting to keep her alive. Tammy and Sabrina tried not to get in their way, and the resident showed them where to stand. They could only get to her one at a time. Her face had been badly lacerated, and one of her cheekbones was broken. There were cuts up and down both arms, and a nasty gash on one shoulder, which was bare. Sabrina gently touched her hand and kissed her fingers, as tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Come on, Annie girl … you can do it … you gotta hang in, baby, for all of us. We love you. You're going to be okay. Be a big girl now. We're all right here with you.” She was suddenly reminded of when she had taken Annie to the playground when she was thirteen and Annie was five. She got on the seesaw when Sabrina wasn't looking, fell off, and broke her arm. Sabrina had been sick over it, and a mother she knew had driven them to the emergency room, where she had called their mom. Their mother wasn't angry and didn't scold her— instead she praised Sabrina for keeping a cool head and getting Annie to the hospital. She told her that it could have happened when she was with Annie too. Things happened to kids. She said it was a lesson to keep a closer eye on her next time, but it could have happened anyway. And she praised Annie for being brave. She hadn't scolded either of them for being stupid or careless, or Sabrina because her sister broke her arm. It had been one of her first major lessons about who her mother was, how she handled things, and how loving and kind she was. She had never forgotten it, and was reminded of it now. “You gotta be brave, Annie. Just like the time you broke your arm.” But this was so much worse, and unthinkable if Annie lost her sight. But worst of all if she lost her life. Sabrina was willing to settle for anything they could get, even if Annie was brain-damaged and no longer herself for the rest of her life. They would love her just the same. She kissed her fingers again, and gave up her place to Tammy, who stood looking at her, with tears rolling down her cheeks in streams. She could hardly speak.
; “You heard Brina, Annie … she's gonna kick our asses if you don't hang in.” It had been her threat to her next-youngest sister when they were kids. She and Annie were the closest in age. Sabrina was eight years older than Annie, and five years older than Tammy. As children it had always seemed like a big difference, but it didn't matter now. “You be a big girl, Annie. We'll be right here when you wake up. I love you … don't forget that,” Tammy said as she dissolved in sobs and had to walk away. Sabrina came to put an arm around her and they walked out to the waiting room again. Their father and Candy hadn't moved since they left them and looked even worse than before, if that was possible, which gave Tammy an idea.
She looked up their family doctor's phone number in the address book they'd brought with them. She put it into her cell phone and walked discreetly away. They were able to patch her through to the doctor at his home, and she explained to him what had happened. She asked if he could come to the hospital to identify her mother's body so her father wouldn't have to do it. She didn't want any of them remembering her that way, and the resident had warned her that the damage to her mother had been extensive and she looked pretty grim. Their family physician promised to meet them at the hospital immediately. She told him that her father and youngest sister were in pretty bad shape and might benefit from some form of sedation, if that seemed reasonable to him.
“Of course. And how are you?” He sounded concerned.
“I don't know,” Tammy said honestly, glancing at Sabrina, who had walked over to be near her. “In shock, I think. We all are. This is pretty tough, and Annie's in bad shape.” She explained what they were planning to do to her in surgery, and he promised to be there within the hour, to offer moral support, if nothing else. It was something at least, and would relieve her father of the horrifying task of identifying his beloved Jane's remains. Tammy couldn't bear to think of her that way, nor could he. She explained to her father that their doctor was coming, and that he would identify Mom for them. After that she could be released to a funeral parlor, but none of them had thought of that yet. They were too stunned by everything that had happened, and too worried about Annie. While Tammy was on the phone, the resident had come to say that Annie was already in surgery, and they'd be starting in a few minutes. He promised to send them reports as soon as they knew anything, but he warned them again that she would be in surgery for many hours.
“Shouldn't I say goodbye to her?” their father said about his wife, when Tammy explained to him that their doctor was coming to identify her, so he didn't have to. Tammy hesitated before she answered her father's question, looking for the right way to say it, and relieve him of guilt at the same time.
“I don't think so, Dad,” she said honestly. “I don't think Mom would want you to remember her that way. You know what she looks like, and how beautiful she was. She wouldn't want you to be that sad,” Tammy said gently, fighting back tears again. They were ever present now.
“You mean I can't hold her again?” His question nearly tore out his daughters' hearts, and the look of anguish in his eyes was even worse. He was a broken man. Only that morning he had been the lively, handsome, youthful father they had always known. And now, suddenly in a matter of hours, he was a frightened, agonized old man. It was horrifying to see.
“You can, Dad,” Sabrina explained, “of course you can, but I think it would be so awful for you, and for Mom. Sometimes we don't get to say goodbye to the people we love most. If she'd gone down in a plane crash, you couldn't hold her either. All that's left now is a shell, not Mom, not Jane. She's gone, Dad. If you need to say goodbye to her, you can. No one's going to stop you. I just don't think it's what Mom would want.” She had devoted a lifetime to making life happy and easier for him—the last thing she would have wanted was to cause him more anguish now.
“Maybe you're right,” he said softly, looking relieved, and a little while later their doctor walked in. He was wonderful with Jim and the girls. He was deeply sympathetic, compassionate, and kind. He handed Sabrina a bottle of Valium and told her to distribute it as needed. He thought her father would benefit from one now and suggested someone take him home. He was in good health, but had always had a mild heart murmur, and he'd been through so much that day. He could see that Candy was a mess too. She had hyperventilated twice since they'd arrived, and said she felt as though she was going to vomit. She felt sick every time she stood up. Sabrina gave each of them a pill with a paper cup full of cold water, and conferred with Tammy quietly as soon as the doctor went downstairs to the morgue to identify Jane. He asked the girls if they had contacted a funeral parlor yet, and they said they hadn't had time. They had come straight to the hospital to see Annie. No calls had been made. Neither of their parents had siblings, and their grandparents were all dead and had been for years. The entire family was at the hospital. All decisions could be made right here, although Sabrina and Tammy were obviously in charge and had the clearest heads, in spite of the fact that both were deeply affected by what had happened. But their father and Candy were falling apart. Tammy and Sabrina weren't, no matter how heartbroken they were.
The doctor had told them what funeral parlor to call, and as soon as he left, Sabrina called them and said they would try to come in the next day to discuss arrangements, but circumstances were difficult, with their sister in critical condition. She just hoped they wouldn't be planning two funerals. One was bad enough, their mother's, which was beyond their worst nightmares and fears. The worst had happened to them. Sabrina refused to think of Annie dying too.
“I think one of us should take them home,” Tammy said to Sabrina as they stood next to the water cooler down the hall from where Candy and their father were sitting. They were both beginning to look a little woozy from the Valium they'd taken, and their father looked like he was going to sleep. It had all been too much for him.
“I don't want to leave you here alone,” Sabrina said, looking worried. “And I want to be here for Annie too. We both should.”
“We can't,” Tammy said practically. If anything, she was pragmatic and had common sense, even in circumstances as awful and emotional as these. And Sabrina was levelheaded too. They looked entirely different, but were sisters to the core, and had a lot of their mother in them. She would have handled this just as they had. Sabrina was aware of it herself. “Neither of them is in any condition to stay here. We've got to get them home to bed. I think you and I have to take turns being here for Annie. There's no point in our being here together, and leaving Dad and Candy alone at home. We can't. They're in terrible shape. And Annie's going to be in surgery for hours. I don't think she'll be out of surgery till nine or ten o'clock tonight.”
“Why don't I get Chris here? He can stay with them tonight so you can come back when Annie's out of surgery. He's good with Dad. He was coming out anyway, for the party.”
“Oh Jesus, we have to call everybody.” The party was only hours away, and they didn't want a hundred people ringing their doorbell. It had to be called off.
“If you take Candy and Dad home,” Sabrina suggested sensibly, “I'll stay here and make the calls. There's nothing else for me to do. I just want to be around if something goes wrong.” Tammy wanted to be there too, but what Sabrina was suggesting made sense.
“Okay. When Chris gets here, he can stay at the house, and I'll come back and sit with you, or you can go home by then if she's okay and out of the woods.”
“I don't think it'll happen that fast,” Sabrina said sadly. “I think we're going to be in the woods for a while.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Tammy said, looking devastated. They both were. They just took comfort in action, like their mother. Annie and Candy were more like their father, dreamers, and more high-strung, although Tammy had never thought of her father that way. She had always assumed he was strong, but saw now that he wasn't, and without her mother he was collapsing like a house of cards. The shock was still fresh, but she had somehow expected him to be more solid than he was.
T
hey both walked back to talk to Candy and their father then, and said the doctor thought they should go home and rest. Nothing was going to happen with Annie for many hours, they hoped. So Sabrina explained that Tammy was going to take them home.
“What about the party?” her father asked, looking worried. It had just occurred to him.
“I'll make the calls, Dad.” It was a terrible way of breaking the news to their friends, but the only one they had. “I've got Mom's address book with me.” She showed it to him in her bag, and his eyes filled with tears again as he nodded.
“I don't know where the guest list is,” he said in a hoarse croak, as Candy stared at them, looking stoned. She weighed so little that the Valium had hit her hard. She had taken the same dose as her father, she was nearly as tall, but half his weight. Sabrina had forgotten to adjust the dosage, but she knew Candy had taken them before when she was upset, usually over guys, or some crisis at a shoot.
“I have the guest list too, Dad.” It was suddenly like talking to an old man. “Don't worry about anything. Just go home and get some rest. Tammy will take you home.” Sabrina told Candy to go too, and both of them followed Tammy out to the car, like docile children, after Sabrina and Tammy hugged for a long moment, and choked on sobs again. Sabrina said she'd call to check in.
The first thing she did when they left was call Chris. He was just leaving his apartment, and asked if she had forgotten anything she needed him to bring. He sounded in great spirits, and hadn't had time yet to notice that Sabrina wasn't. All she had said so far was hello, in a shaking voice.
Sisters Page 7
