“Thank you nurse,” Mary said over her shoulder. She hadn’t even waited for the last sentence before bolting down the hall. Everyone followed.
The waiting room was across from Room 305. Ric and Ginny Houston were talking in whispers in the far corner of the room.
Ginny and Ric politely introduced themselves and offered their good wishes, saying they would come by again later to see how she was doing. Ric asked Mary to tell Zach they’d been there and would be in touch. Just as the Houstons left, Zach walked into the hall. Upon seeing Abby’s family and a stranger, a look of shock flickered over his face, but he recovered.
“Mother Larkin, Joshua, Emmy, so good of you to come. Our girl’s had a rough time, but I’m sure she’ll rally,” Zach said as he tried to shake Joshua’s hand. Joshua put his right arm around Mary and did not return the gesture. He joined the others in saying, “Hello, Zach.” The temperature in the hallway outside Room 305 seemed as frigid as the January air outside.
Zach was taken back. “Somethin’ wrong?” he asked.
Emmy piped up, “This is Wills Taylor, an old friend of Abby’s and we’ve all come to see her, so let’s cut the chit chat shall we?”
“Hey, I know we’re all worried, but, what’s up here?” Zach looked at each of them, taking particular notice of the sturdy-looking man who looked a little silly holding a fist full of balloons.
Mary took in a deep breath. “Zach, now is not the time nor place to discuss anything but Abby’s welfare. We will be staying at a hotel in town, and we’ll be wanting to see the children. I’ll talk to you later. Now, please let me by to see my daughter.”
“Well, that’s not at all necessary. You can stay with us. We have plenty of room, and I’ll rent you a car.”
“We’ll be at the hotel, Zach, it’s decided. Now please.” Mary pushed by her son-in-law with Joshua close behind.
Before he went in, Joshua glowered up at Zach and said in his low bourbon tone, “Just like your daddy, ain’tcha boy?” Zach stared coldly after the old man but said nothing.
Wills and Emmy were in the waiting room. They were standing by the single window looking out at the new snow and the lights of the city when Zach walked in
“So you’re an old friend of Abby’s? Must have been pretty close to come all the way up here. Don’t recall her ever speakin’ about you.” Zach looked Wills over, observing every detail of his rugged body, wondering what story he had missed or forgotten.
“Yes, we were — very close. I’ve known Abby since we were in high school,” Wills said without hesitation.
“Is that so? And here I thought Emmy might be steppin’ out on Johnny boy.” Zach turned suddenly to Emmy. “My, my, Emmy, you’re still lovely as a spring mornin’.”
Emmy shot back, “Don’t try to cozy up to me, Zachary Trudeau. If it wasn’t for Abby lying in there....Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”
“Now hold on, little lady, what’s eatin’ at you? Here I am, called back from the road, my recruitin’ schedule’s shot to hell and the whole goddam family’s givin’ me what for. Now what the hell’s goin’ on?”
“Yeah, Abby caused you a real inconvenience havin’ this accident didn’t she? Let’s go on in there and wake her up. We’ll just tell her to do it again when it’s more timely.”
“I didn’t mean it that way, and you know it. It’s just that...”
Emmy’s hand went to her hip. “What, Zach? Admit it. You can’t stand having to be here instead of with your latest bimbo.”
“So that’s it, is it? Well, let’s not forget, she’s my wife, and I don’t need none of you comin’ into my town, tellin’ me how to live my life or passin’ judgment. And you with the balloons,” Zach pointed at Wills, his fury building, “You’re not welcome here, so pack your bags and go back to whatever backwoods swamp you crawled out of.”
Large blue veins throbbed in Zach’s neck and temples. He started to stomp away.
Wills bristled. “Free country, Trudeau. I stay.”
“To hell with all of you! I’ll see to it that you’re all thrown out.” Zach left the room and nearly ripped the double doors off the hinges as he bolted like a wild stallion through the hospital corridors.
CHAPTER 39
Wills slid his hand around the door to Room 305.
The incongruous red balloons still bobbed above his head as he walked into the shadowy room. Darkness and nausea descended over him like a death sheet. He had been here before. Instead of Abby’s body lying on the hospital bed, he saw his wife, Sue Ann, cold and grey and dying from the cancer that had ravaged her body. He fought back the urge to turn and run, swallowed his discomfort, and blinked hard. Abby’s bruised features replaced Sue Ann’s now, and he was aware of where he was once again. He tied the balloons to the end of the bed rail and spoke to Abby in quiet tones.
“Abby, it’s Wills. I know you can hear me; you have to hear me. I brought you red balloons, your favorite. I remembered.”
He wanted to touch her, but he didn’t dare. “Ab? Do you remember the night of the prom? How ‘bout Sugar Point? I know you remembered just a few weeks ago, Abby. I saw it in your eyes, I did. Come home with me, Ab; come home to the farm. I won’t let go this time. I’m gonna nag you ‘til you say yes. I love you, Abigail Frances O’Malley. I won’t take no for an answer this time, you hear me?”
Wills sat at the edge of the bed. He looked at her face. Even bandaged and battered, she was beautiful to him. All he could see was the smile he knew so well. He could hear her laugh, and he could taste her lips. He leaned over and kissed her forehead, then her cheek, and then he brushed her dry lips with his.
“Abby, for the love of God, please wake up!” he said not two inches from her face. He whispered in her ear, “I love you, come home to me. Come home.” He sat and stared at her face, willing her to wake from her dead sleep.
The nurse came in to tell Wills his time was up. He stood and looked at her one more time. He thought her expression had changed, and he got excited.
“Look, nurse, she’s smiling, she knows I’m here!”
“Patients do that sometimes, but it’s just a reflex. I’m sorry,” she said.
“No. I don’t believe it. She smiled; I saw her. She’s going to live, and she’s going to laugh again. I just know it.”
“I hope you’re right. You can come back tomorrow, and we’ll see how our patient is doing then.” The nurse opened the door for Wills, and when he left, she looked at Abby and shook her head. “Such a pity,” she said.
Mary’s eyes flickered open and shut as she lay on the cot she’d ordered for Abby’s room. Joshua, Wills and Emmy had gone to the hotel to check in, but she had refused to leave her daughter alone. Every time she nearly drifted off, she forced herself awake, stood up and checked all the monitors and Abby’s life-line bags, and touched her daughter’s head. By dawn, after the last change in staff, Mary’s body overcame her mind, and she fell into a deep dream sleep.
From the far reaches of her mind, a long buried nightmare came again.
The sea was boiling; the sky was painted black. A twisted face of pure evil rose from the depths of the oozing fluid and reached out with frightening claws to grab her. She was screaming “Frank! Frank!” He rose from the darkness as she called for him. A blazing light appeared behind him. His shadow walked slowly toward her, smiling, fading, almost to her, reaching out his hand. She lunged frantically for him. He tossed a handful of coins, change at her feet, before he melted into the darkness. He was gone, replaced by the face of evil, so clear and yet so indescribable. Suddenly, the hideous image burst into flames, leaving its sinister laugh hanging in the air.
Mary jerked awake and stared at Abby, her watch, and back at Abby, the nightmare momentarily ripped from her memory. She swore at herself for falling asleep. And then memories of the day she knew Frank was gone juxtaposed over Abby’s face. The two people she loved most in her life overlapped like folded hands.
Mary remembered the tortured e
ternity of the night she learned Frank was dead
It was Petty Officer John Hislop who rapped his knuckles on their door. At the sound, Mary had come to the door, one cautious step at a time, and opened it a crack, leaving the chain in place. Their eyes met. He looked down at his envelope and back at her. He cleared his throat and asked, “Mrs. O’Malley?”
“Don’t,” she shook her head. “Don’t say anything. Just give me the letter and leave,” she screamed at him without raising her voice. Her eyes were hard jade stones in bloodshot sockets.
“I’m sorry. Really sorry,” he said, and gingerly slid the letter and a receipt for a parcel yet to come through the crack in the door. He lingered for a moment, handed her a pen and waited. She scribbled her name, dropped the pen and slammed the crack shut.
She did not eat, she slept fitfully, barely able to hold her child, her beloved Abby without dropping her. All she could understand was that Abby would never see her daddy’s smile or feel his strong arms lift her to the sky.
The official letter had said, “He died a hero, trying to save everyone he could. The Navy is saddened but proud of your husband. He was a fine man.”
Mary had watched every day for the box she knew would come, yet when it came, she couldn’t open it. “You open it, Mum,” she said to Meaghan. “I can’t, you know. I just can’t.”
Meaghan gingerly unwrapped the shoebox size container. There were Mary’s letters, all numbered and in order, a picture frame that held their wedding picture, and two small items— Frank’s dog tags and his silver cross.
How it had survived the fire, she would never know; that it did gave her a modicum of peace. She had taken it in her shaking hand and, with difficulty, removed her own, placing the more delicate cross in the black velvet box. She slipped Frank’s over her head, clutching it as though it were a life source.
She handed the box to her mother. “This belongs to Abby, Mum. Someday, someday.”
Mary sat very still, looking like a withered flower in the heat of a summer afternoon. Suddenly she realized it was now more than twenty-four hours, and Abby was still alive and still stable. As soon as the thought entered her head, an alarm went off on one of the machines, and a nurse came running in.
“What is it?” Mary demanded of the new nurse.
“Her lungs. She’s not breathing well; we’ll have to aspirate her,” the nurse said. A second nurse charged through the door with a table full of instruments.
“Here, let me help,” Mary said.
“Sorry, ma’am, you can’t. Please wait outside.”
“I’m a nurse for God’s sake, and that’s my daughter.”
“Please!” the nurse yelled at her.
Mary paled, backed out the door and ran down the hall looking for the doctor on duty. He ran by her in the direction of Abby’s room. She followed him and stood outside the door. She prayed. In fifteen minutes that might as well have been fifteen hours, the doctor emerged with one of the nurses.
“Doctor, how is she?”
“Stable, that’s all I can say for now. We have to judge it hour by hour. She’s not out of the woods yet.”
Mary thanked him and went back to her post. She went to Abby’s bed, and the first nurse left the room.
“Abby, mama’s here, sweetheart.” Mary paced. She looked out the window again at the mountains and sea blue sky. Finally calm, she spoke again. “Darlin’, I know about Zach and I know about Wills. Please believe me when I say all I care about is your happiness. Wills loves you so very much; I guess he always has. I never told you this before, but he has always reminded me so much of your father. Maybe that’s why I wanted you to wait. Maybe I was afraid. I just didn’t want you to get hurt or be left alone. I was so wrong, Abby. Please forgive me. I tried to do my best to protect you, and I failed. But your daddy, well, he’s always been there for you, watching over you. I think he wants you to go on with your life and be happy. He’ll be there when the time is right, for both of us. But darlin’, not now, not yet. Please wake up, Abby. Please come back to me.” Her face drooped to the floor, and she touched Abby’s hand and tears of agony slid silently down her cheeks.
Mary sat by Abby’s side for hours, hoping for a miracle. She looked around the room and for the first time noticed a small plastic bag on the bedside table. Mary gasped. It was Abby’s cross. She poured the sacred silver into her hand. With barely a movement, she leaned over Abby and slipped it around her neck, beneath the tubes, closing the clasp with shaking hands. She wandered to the window to look out at the mountains. Another nurse came in, checked Abby’s vitals and offered to get Mary a cup of coffee. Before Mary could respond, a tiny raspy voice said, “I’m thirsty, Mama.”
Mary whipped around and ran back to the bed. The nurse stopped cold. “Oh, Abby, thank God! Anything you want sweetheart, anything.” Mary leaned over and kissed her daughter on the forehead. Her tears dripped on Abby’s cheeks.
“I’m so thirsty, Mama,” Abby said.
“Hallelujah!” sang the nurse. “I’ll be right back.”
The critical list no longer carried Abby’s name. Emmy, Joshua, Zoe, Luke, and ZJ had all been in to see her, and they had all gone to lunch in the hospital cafeteria, leaving Abby to get some rest. Zach Jr. had flown in from Chicago and hadn’t left the hospital since he arrived. Claire and Noah had come again, and Wills planned to go in when Abby was up to surprise company. Zach had received the good news from the hospital, but he had not come back. He told the children that their mother had always said she wouldn’t want him to lose his job or his recruits. So now that she was getting better, he thought she needed to rest and he needed to work.
Abby moved her head slowly from side to side. She surveyed the room and the tubes hanging precariously from a thing that looked like a metal coat rack on wheels. The memories came back in tiny flashes, out of order — the accident, Stuart’s apartment, the women, Zach, the accident. She was supposed to be dead. More pieces — Daddy, doctors, red balloons, the light, the darkness. The tension in Abby’s face began to fade. She felt so small and stupid. She had let Zach beat her almost to death. He’d nearly won.
After they left, the nurse came in to fluff her pillow and change the clear fluid flowing into her veins. She pointed to the bag. “Like chocolate? Tastes great, huh? Well, if you’re a good girl, you’ll be off the bag juice by tomorrow night and on to the good stuff, jello and chicken broth.” Abby tried to smile.
She looked at her left hand. Her rings were gone. She didn’t remember taking them off, but her hands were puffy. She reached for her cross. It was there on her neck where it belonged. The smooth silver leaves of her cross felt like love against her frail fingers. Everything would be all right now. She had been given another chance. And the rings - another sign. She would never wear them again.
Even the constant humming and intercom noise couldn’t keep Abby awake. She drifted off to peaceful sleep with a faint smile on her lips.
“You have a visitor, sweetheart,” Mary said the next morning. “He’s been waiting to see you. I think it would do you good.”
“I don’t want to see Zach, not yet,” Abby said in a voice as weak as a flea.
“It isn’t Zach, darlin’. It’s Wills. He came with us. He’s the one who brought the balloons.”
“Wills? He’s here?” she said with a breathy small voice. “That’s strange. I had a dream about him, I think, I can’t remember now, but it felt very real.”
“He’s here all right. Shall I tell him you will see him now?” Mary asked.
“Oh, Mama, I must look awful. I couldn’t.” Abby turned her head away.
“Too late, Abby, he’s seen you already, so there’s no point in keeping him away now.”
Wills walked in at that moment. Mary nodded and smiled at him, waving him over.
“I’ll leave you two alone for a while, but don’t tire her, Wills, or you’ll have hell to pay!” Mary patted Abby’s hand, kissed her cheek, and left them.
“Abby, don�
��t say anything for a second, okay?” Wills said. Abby nodded and looked out the window.
Wills sat beside her. “There has never been a moment in my life that I haven’t loved you. Almost losing you forever shook me bad, but maybe that’s a good thing in a crazy sort of way, because I’m not gonna pull any punches, and I’m not gonna wait for the right time anymore. Abby, I want you to leave this place and come home to the farm. I want you to marry me and spend the rest of your life with me, and I will not leave you alone until you say yes.”
He stopped and waited for her to look at him. Abby’s pale blue eyes glistened, and a watery trail trickled from the corners. She studied his face. He added, “Unless you can look at me and say you don’t love me.” Her chin trembled as Wills patted her tears away with a tissue.
In a voice so quiet, he had to lean over to hear, Abby said, “But it’s all such a mess.”
“We’ve both been through worse. We can do it together; you’ll see. Will you marry me, Abby?”
His deep, dark eyes wouldn’t release her for even a moment. It wasn’t just his eyes that she loved, or the way his voice cracked whenever he was emotional, or the strength in his hands. Sometimes it had been the offhanded way he laughed and the sureness of his step and the complete ability to trust him. She loved that even now; she could be herself with him, no pretending, no hiding, no need to bury her soul for his ego. Seeing him there, now, was like a day, not years, had passed since the last time he asked her to be his wife. And he’d brought her red balloons. Just like the first time, she knew they were an important sign, that it was right between them. She could tell him all her secrets.
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