Authors: Joan Early
Susan considered the framework necessary for a successful marriage. Her parents, as well as Angie and Carl, were supportive and respectful of each other. Her aunt and uncle had shared the same antiquated views on the role each spouse should play. Love had many helpers.
* * *
Pink roses, streamers, and happiness filled the aisles of the church where Susan and Stan had married. She saw her brother, all grown up and handsome, waiting for his bride. Trish wore a traditional white lace gown with a multi-tiered skirt.
Who cares if I’m wearing a sickly pink dress with ruffles and puff sleeves? Their happiness is all that matters.
Charles took Susan aside before leaving the reception. “Mom told me you were having a rough time in Houston, but you didn’t mention anything when we talked. Is everything really okay?”
“Everything is fine,” she answered, touched by his concern. “Work is going quite well, I have a few friends, and I told you about Dino. You would love him.”
She stood with the rest of the family and yelled their congratulations as Charles and Trish left for Honolulu. Bobby and his family left for the short drive to their home in a neighboring town, and Susan went in to pack.
“Can we come in, honey?” Ralph asked, poking his head in the door.
“Sure, Dad, I was just packing.”
She stopped and sat on the edge of the bed. Tammy took Susan’s right hand and held it out. Ralph placed a small velvet bag in her palm.
“That was my mother’s. She wanted you to have it. Tammy wanted to give it to you when you and Stan got married, but I told her to wait for another special occasion.”
“Thank you, Daddy.” She removed a gold chain with a small, heart-shaped locket. Inside was a tiny photograph of her grandparents on their wedding day.
“This is beautiful.” She batted away the tears. “I love it, but why are you giving it to me now?”
“Because we’re so proud of you,” Tammy answered, placing her arm around Susan’s shoulder. “You walked down the aisle when Bobby was getting married with your head held high even though your marriage to Stan was ending. Now you’re here for Charles instead of whining about your own problems. Your father and I are so proud of you. No parents could be luckier than we are.”
“Your mother’s right, honey,” Ralph added. “I’m proud that you make that great big salary, that Charles is going to be a doctor, and that Bobby has his own business. I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished, but you’ve all made me happy by being good people. Your mother and I can sit back and thank God that you are all exceptional adults.”
“The three of us are very lucky, too. We have wonderful parents.” She hugged them and said a silent prayer that, given the opportunity to become a parent, she would copy their style.
“You might think I’m brave, but I do get frightened sometimes. Mostly of myself. I saw Stan the other day.”
“Yeah, we’ve seen the little flea standing behind that counter and looking pathetic. You’re well rid of that weakling,” Tammy declared.
“Is it possible that I
turned
Stan into a weakling? He wasn’t that way when we married. Am I too domineering for most men?”
“I’ll answer that. No,” Ralph said, taking her hand. “Hell, no. Stanford was always insecure and fragile. With you, he felt bested, so he retaliated the way most cowards do, by exerting brute force. Unfortunately for him, he got the worse end of that, as well.”
She dropped her head on her father’s chest. “I feel sorry for him.”
“Now you listen to me, honey. You are never to stifle yourself to boost anyone’s ego. When the right man comes along, he’ll be happy that you are the way you are, just as I’m happy to be married and madly in love with this overbearing woman standing here.” He reached for Tammy.
“Your father’s right, Susan. Just hang in there, and please don’t try to change. Your prince will come. If not Will Cartwright, or this attorney you’re dating, it will be someone equally dynamic.”
“Thank you. I feel so much better after talking to you and to Barbara. I’m ready to go back to my new home.”
When Ralph left to put her bags in the car, Tammy took her to the living room.
“I have something to give you.” She took an envelope from a book, opened it, and placed a yellowing photograph in Susan’s hand.
“What…” Her eyes widened. Her heart sang. “Is this…”
“Willard Cartwright Sr. when he was maybe twenty-one, twenty-two. That’s Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in the background.” Tammy sighed.
“How did you get this?”
“My cousin Freddy took it at a rally in Washington. When he bragged that he had attended the rally and showed me the photograph, my eyes fell on Will Cartwright. One of the doctors offered me a thousand dollars for it years ago. I had almost forgotten about it. I want you to give it Rev. Cartwright. I’m sure it would mean more to him than it could to anyone else.”
She stared at the likeness of the man she adored. “I can’t believe the resemblance. I also can’t believe the feelings I have for this man, and I don’t really know him.”
* * *
She didn’t sleep at all on the plane ride to Houston. Remembering Will’s arms around her made her dizzy. She heard his voice, saw his face, and felt the wonderful closeness they had shared, if only briefly.
She deplaned, retrieved her car from the roof level of the airport parking garage, and began shedding garments and fussing about the heat. “Did a calendar get stuck on sweltering?” She kicked off her shoes, sang with the Christmas songs already playing on the radio, and rehearsed her lines for the conversation she planned to have with Will.
As soon as she entered the apartment, Susan felt the absence of her companion. After dropping her bags on the bedroom floor, she decided to call Angie and see if it was too late to come for Dino. But first she checked her phone messages and heard a distressing call from Angie.
“Susan, call me immediately. Immediately, before you do anything else.”
“Oh, God! Something’s happened to Dino.” Her imagination gone wild, she frantically dialed Angie’s number. “I should have taken him with me. Daddy would just have to tolerate having a cat in the house. If Mom can get used to a dog, he can…
Angie, it’s me.
What’s wrong? Did something happen to Dino?”
“Susan, calm down. You have to calm down before I can tell you.”
Angie’s words usually sprang from her lips at breakneck speed, but now they were slow and deliberate. Her patronizing tone frightened Susan even more.
“It’s not Dino. Other than being spoiled rotten by my girls and lying around on his big, fat butt, Dino is fine. What I have to tell you is very bad news.”
“It’s not the girls. Carl? Please don’t—”
“Honey, we are all fine. Just calm down.”
Her mind was spinning. It wasn’t Angie, the kids, or Carl, and Dino was okay. There was no one at work she cared about to the point of hysteria, so it had to be Will.
“It’s Will, isn’t it? He’s gone and got himself engaged?”
Angie didn’t answer.
“Married? Angie, you’re scaring the daylights out of me. Is it Will?”
“Yes, it’s Will. There was an accident—”
“Will’s dead!” The scream came from a body quaking with pain and fear.
“No, he’s not dead. His car was struck by an eighteen-wheeler. The driver ran a stop sign going over sixty miles an hour in a residential neighborhood. Will was pinned inside his car.”
Numbness had taken over. She gripped the phone with both hands. Her body was rigid. Her eyes were fixed on the wall. She couldn’t speak or move.
“Susan? Susan, you have to be strong. Susan, answer me.”
Trembling, she found her voice. “I’m okay. Is he…”
“The doctors are saying it doesn’t look good at all. His brain is swollen, and there are possibly serious internal injuries. They think that even if he lives, he…”
“What?”
“They think there could be…God…they think his motor skills may be severely limited and that he may even be…brain dead. He has shown no sign of awareness. News reports said he was in a coma, and then changed it to unconscious, then back to comatose. I called the hospital and, after getting some serious runaround, I called his father’s house. I told Rev. Cartwright I was your friend and that I needed to know what to tell you when you returned.”
“W-w-what did his father say?”
“He said to tell you to get to the hospital as soon as possible. That’s why I wanted you to remain calm. If you plan to drive—”
“Why him, Angie? Why Will? Aren’t there enough lowlifes out there who could have been in the way of that truck? Why did this happen to Will?”
“I don’t know, honey, but I want you to promise me that you’ll sit there and calm down before attempting to drive to the hospital. The only thing worse than this would be to have something happen to you. It’s still early. Why don’t you call his parents’ house first? Get a pen and take the number down.”
“Why? Are you thinking that maybe he’s already…dead?”
“I’m not sure, Susan. The news reporters kept using phrases like ‘the doctors are doing all they can as he hangs on.’ Just call his folks.”
“Okay, I’m sitting. I’m breathing slowly. Will was in an accident, and I have to get to him. He’s going to be all right. He has to be.”
When Angie felt comfortable enough to let her off the phone, she alternated sipping water and taking deep breaths. Surely, God would not take him now, she thought, dialing the number Angie had given her.
“Rev. Cartwright, I’m so sorry to bother you now. This is Susan Cross. Do you remember me, sir?”
“Yes, and I’m glad you called. They said you were out of town. He’s in bad shape, Susan. Bad shape. My wife just called. The doctors say he’s just holding on.”
Tears streamed down her face and her legs turned to rubber. “Do you think I should go—”
“The rest of the family is down there now. Go to him.”
She hung up before realizing that she didn’t know what hospital he was in or how to get there. Dialing the number again, she sobbed uncontrollably.
“Rev. Cartwright, I don’t know where he is. Please tell me how to get to Will.”
* * *
Susan broke a few traffic laws during her rush through the Sunday evening serenity. She had passed the medical center area only once and was not sure which hospital was which, but knew it was a sprawling community in itself.
“First I have to find the South Freeway, 288.” She repeated the directions Rev. Cartwright had given her. “McGregor exit coming up.” She squinted at the signs until she found Ben Taub Hospital. Thankful for the ease with which she maneuvered her Jeep into a cramped parking space, she ran through the door marked “Emergency Entrance.”
“Excuse me, can you please help me? I’m here to see Willard Cartwright.”
A white-clad staffer asked if she was family.
“I’m his fiancée.” The words came without thought.
Susan was directed to a glass-walled area in intensive care. The nurse took her to the middle section and cautioned her, holding her hand up until she finished speaking.
“He’s unconscious. His family was in there a minute ago but they’re gone, so I guess it’s okay for you to go in.”
She tiptoed into the sterile room. Her heart was thumping audibly, and her hands were cold as ice. Pausing just inside the door, she listened to the monitor’s rhythmic bleeps, took a deep breath, and forced her feet to move. Will’s head was bandaged, and his face swollen and distorted. His right hand was taped to a board, and his vein was puffed up around the needle in his skin.
Shock and disbelief mingled with foreboding. Inching closer to the bed, she touched the fingers of his right hand, instinctively fell to her knees, and prayed out loud.
“God, please give me the chance to let him know how much I love him. Please don’t take him away.”
Her mind began to rummage through the pages of her life, in search of something positive to hold on to. The prayers were not just for his life, but hers as well. A weekend in his arms, a day on the beach, holding hands and laughing. No matter what fate awaited him and their relationship, she knew her views of love would be forever defined by their precious moments together.
Guilt was also a factor in her jumbled thoughts. Foolish pride and vanity had prevented her from responding when he had reached out to her. “I love you, Will. Please hear me. I love you so much.”
Hearing voices in the hallway, she looked back through the glass and saw Mrs. Whitehead. Her aching head was spinning. She went into the hallway, feeling that her heart would explode.
“She’s shaking like a loose hubcap.” Mrs. Whitehead grabbed Susan’s shoulders. “Get a nurse.”
“I think she’s about to faint,” Mrs. Cartwright said, hailing a nurse. “Can you get some smelling salts or something?”
She guided Susan backwards as Mrs. Whitehead and Terri held a chair. Terri fanned her with a magazine while the nurse broke an inhaler under her nose. She coughed and sat upright.
“Drink this water, sweetheart, and breathe slowly.” Mrs. Whitehead continued holding her hand.
Amy Cartwright took Susan’s other hand. “You really do love him, don’t you?”
Susan nodded and said, “With all my heart.”
She regained her composure and looked at the tall, statuesque woman standing before her. Though they had not met, Susan knew she was Will’s sister.
“Has anyone informed you about Willie’s condition?”
“I-I was told that his condition is grave,” Susan stammered.
Mrs. Cartwright introduced them. “This is my daughter Eugenia, Miss Cross. Jean is the skeptic in the family, but we’re sure Willie can beat this.”
“I was just wondering why you’re here, Miss Cross. Unless I’ve been misled, you and Willie broke up because you accused him of engineering that Cedargrove mess. Right now my brother needs to be surrounded by people who love him, not the ones who caused him pain.”
Stunned by the harshness of Jean’s words, Susan did not respond.
“I believe my son will get well and walk out of this hospital, hopefully on your arm. Willie had nothing to do with that story in the paper,” Mrs. Cartwright assured her. “He would never do anything to hurt you. He’s in love with you.”