The Lives Between Us (35 page)

“Sooo... What now?”

“Now we find another qualified doctor willing to do a modified procedure on her when she gets off the ventilator.” Again, when she got off the machine. Why did everything hinge on her getting off that damned machine? Edward knew the answer, but his heart wouldn’t accept it. What if she could never be weaned from it?

“And in the meantime?”

“In the meantime, she goes to Fisher Rehabilitation Center in St. Clair Shores. She’s being transferred tomorrow.”

Edward toured the facilities, and though it had an excellent reputation and the staff had been cheerful and friendly, the breadth of what they offered frightened him worse than his first day in court as a prosecutor.

They spoke to him of a whole new, far more difficult way of life. Just listening to Noelle’s treatment coordinator detail their expected game plan horrified Edward. The plethora of complications like dyspepsia, hypertension, pneumonia, infections, and skin ulcers filled him with dread. Noelle would need nursing care for the rest of her life. And that wasn’t even considering life at home.

Their goal wasn’t to cure Noelle but teach her—teach them—everyday coping skills. Even though they’d hire professional help, how could Edward possibly be a senator and give Noelle the attention she needed? The attention he needed to give her.

“For how long?”

“Hmm?”

Ben shifted his weight. “How long will she be at Fisher?”

“I don’t know.” Edward frowned, suddenly aggravated by all Ben’s questions. “Why? What’s the problem, Ben?”

Ben turned away and pursed his lips. “The Senate reconvenes January twenty-seventh. That’s only ten days away. You’ve got a full schedule. People need your attention.”

“Tough. My wife and son need me more.” Edward took a deep breath and then exhaled loudly in the silence. He looked at Ben. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. We’ll do our best to keep it flexible. You can probably stay a little longer; I can get things up and running for you in D.C. but...”

“But then what?”

Ben nodded.

Edward massaged his stiff neck. He could probably postpone his return a week or so more since he had well-trained staff, but he didn’t hold out much hope that Noelle would improve enough in a couple of weeks so that she could leave with him.

“I don’t know. I
just
don’t know. I could leave Noelle at Fisher and fly back for weekends, or maybe I should find a rehab place near the Virginia house.” He bit his lip, thinking. “I don’t even know if there
is
a rehab facility near the Virginia house.”

“I’ll check.” Ben whipped out his iPad and made a note. “What about Jeff? Want me to look into babysitting service and after school care?”

“I... Yeah, I guess so. Jeff will need to stay near Noelle.” If Edward had learned anything from his son’s misbehavior, it was how badly Jeff needed to be close to his mother.

If they decided to leave her in rehab here, maybe he should take Jeff to Virginia with him—it wasn’t fair to saddle Joseph with a confused, combative kid. But Jeff would hate only seeing his mom on weekends.
He
would hate only seeing Noelle on weekends.

Edward closed his eyes, begging for patience and mercy. He had no idea how to work and care for a child full-time. And his work often cut deeply into evening hours. Jeff would spend a lot of time with babysitters. As a teenager, Jeff was sure to fight the babysitter thing, but no way he was leaving the kid unsupervised that long.

Flying back every weekend would be expensive. It’d be much easier to leave Jeff with Joseph. So much easier, Edward felt guilty at the spurt of elation at the thought of being able to escape this nightmare to run away to work for five days a week. He’d work hard, burying himself in public debates—after all, he owed it to his constituents. God knew he could use the break.

Edward glanced inside to where Noelle lay rocking in her bed like an oversized cradle. But what if something happened and he wasn’t there? He’d hate himself.

Just then, Jeff turned the corridor corner. His shoulders were hunched deep into his black jacket, a ball cap held down his mop of hair, and his hands were thrust deep into saggy jean pockets. Before Jeff reached the security station guarding the wing, he spotted his dad in the hallway and spun about.

“Hold it,” Edward called out while moving around Ben.

Jeff froze. His frowning face studied the floor. Edward imagined his eyes darting back and forth as he frantically tried to think up an acceptable lie. He turned at Edward’s approach. “Chris was late. I figured he wasn’t coming, so I—”

“Save it. Grandpa called.” Edward anchored his hands on his waist.

Jeff’s shoulders slumped. “So what’re you going to do?”

“Nothing.” Edward handed his cell phone to the boy. “
You’re
going to call Grandpa and apologize.”

Jeff stared at the phone in his outstretched palm. “I’ll tell him at home.”

“Now.”
While I’m watching to be sure you do it
.

Jeff dug into his pocket and with a glare, slid his own cell phone open.

“I can take him home,” Ben offered.

Edward nodded. “And then Ben’s going to take you home. And we’re going to have a long talk tonight.” He gestured to the phone in Jeff’s hand. “Call.”

Edward turned to Ben. “Look, I’m not sure what’s going to happen after tomorrow. I’m aware the break’s ending. As soon as I have some answers and a game plan, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Right.” Ben looked past Edward. “Jeff, ready to go?”

“I want to see Mom first.”

Edward’s first instinct was an immediate ‘no,’ but was he just being punitive and taking his frustration out on the boy? What would Noelle do? Consistency and consequences were cardinal parenting rules Noelle believed in.

“She’s sleeping, and you were disobedient. Ben’s taking you home, and we’ll talk before bed.”

Jeff raised his chin and stared. “Fine. But I’ll be back tonight with Grandpa.”

Edward tried not to get angry. He wanted to slap the kid down and remind Jeff that he was the parent and his insolence wouldn’t be tolerated, but he saw the worry behind the boy’s glare. He was scared. Should he give in? Consistency. Consequences.

“No, you won’t.” He slowly shook his head. “This isn’t the first time. You can’t just take off and worry your grandfather and me and waste your tutor’s time without consequences.” Edward took him by the shoulder and turned him toward the elevator.

Jeff ripped out of his grasp and turned on him. “Consequences, bullshit,” he yelled. “You’re just punishing me.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Edward saw the officers’ heads come up, and they tensed. “Keep your voice down.”

“Why?” Jeff raised his voice louder and looked around to see who might be watching. “So no one will know the great, all-mighty senator doesn’t have a perfect little family?” he sneered. “So no one will find out what a fuck-up your son is?”

Edward saw other patients’ visitors at the far end of the corridor stand in doorways to see what all the shouting was about. Nurses and staff moved into the hallway and watched him as if waiting for a sign to intervene.

Edward took a step closer. “You’re not a fuck-up.”

Jeff raised a hand. Tears glistened in his red eyes and his voice broke as he shouted, “Stay away from me!”

Edward froze. The vehemence and hatred in the boy’s eyes lanced his heart. How could his son hate him this much? What’d he done so wrong? “Jeff, it’s okay. We’re going to work it out. We’ll be okay.”

“We’re
not
gonna be okay! Look at her!” Jeff threw his arm out gesturing toward Noelle’s room. “She’s
not
going to be okay. Why couldn’t it have been you?”

The hurtful words whipped through Edward, unleashing his temper. “I wish it
had
been me! It’d be a hell of a lot easier if it was
me
lying in that fucking bed instead of her.” He jabbed a trembling index finger in the direction of Noelle’s room.

Edward’s constricted chest ached, ready to burst with the effort of trying to control the emotions flooding him. “I wouldn’t have to deal with you. I wouldn’t have to guess at the right medical treatments.” His voice grew hoarse as he spit out the words. “I wouldn’t have...my heart ripped out...watching
my
wife...suffer
ridiculous
indignities and pain.”

Swallowing hard, Edward scowled at his son, who looked at him through wide, fearful eyes. He looked away in shame. Great, now his son hated him
and
feared him. He couldn’t do anything right.

“Jeff look, I’m sorry. I... It’s not that ba—” But it
was
that bad. Edward raked a hand through his hair. “We’ll—”

“My fault,” Jeff backed away. The elevator dinged its arrival. Jeff’s eyes darted back in forth in panic. “It’s all my fault!”

Edward had to end this, now. “No, it’s not. Son, it’s—”

Jeff sprinted into the elevator, and the stainless steel doors closed behind him.

Edward dashed toward the elevator and punched at the buttons. The door remained shut as the elevator hummed downward. Seconds later, the alarm went off.

“Oof.” Mark caught Skye and Jeff as they all hit the elevator wall hard. Hands on Skye’s waist, he righted them and looked at the whirlwind that hit them.

Wild-eyed and chest heaving, Jeff stood in Skye’s loose embrace.

“Keep him away from me,” Jeff’s voice broke as he glared at the closing elevator doors.

“Who?”

“Dad.”

What the hell? Mark pulled out the emergency button to stop the elevator, ignoring the resulting buzzing alarm. “What’s goin’ on?”

Breathing hard, Jeff pulled away from Skye and wedged himself into the corner as if trying to disappear. His eyes bulged and darted back and forth, like a cornered wild animal. “He hates me. He just wants to punish me.”

“Your father doesn’t hate you,” Mark said.

“Yes, he does.”

“Why would he hate you?” Skye asked.

“Because I hurt Mom.”

Skye moved closer and rubbed a gentle hand over his arm. She spoke softly. “You didn’t cause her accident.”

“I did.”

“Jeff—” Mark began.

“You don’t know! You’re just like him,” Jeff turned on him with fear and hatred in his eyes. He slowly slid down the corner until he sat on the floor with his knees bent.

“Hey,” Skye crooned in a soothing voice. Crossing her ankles, she lowered herself to the floor and took Jeff’s hands. “Look at me.” She squeezed his fingers. “Look at me,” she repeated more firmly, positioning her head in front of him until Jeff had to meet her gaze. “Nobody hates you,” Skye said gently. “Not your dad. Not Mark. Least of all your mom. They all love you.”

Jeff blinked back tears. Sniffling loudly, he yanked his hands out of hers and turned away to press his face against the cold stainless steel wall. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

Skye gently folded him into her arms, and his head fell to her shoulder with hoarse sobs. She patted his back. “It’s okay. Life sucks right now. Go ahead and cry.”

Mark watched in silence, surprised Jeff allowed Skye’s comforting when for weeks he’d pushed everyone else away. But then again, he, Ed, and Joseph were all men. Though Jeff was the size of a man, maybe he needed a woman’s gentleness.

Mark’s cell phone croaked, then croaked again. Mark texted Ed,
We’ve got Jeff. Out in a few
. Then he set his phone to vibrate and crammed it in his pocket.

Jeff stopped sobbing but remained in the shelter of Skye’s arms. “It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered. Skye’s cell phone buzzed loudly and pulsed in her pocket.

Jeff pulled back, swiped at his face, and studied the floor. “You don’t know—”

“I
do
know,” she cut in. “You broke the rules. You skied out of bounds, and your mom went in after you and got hurt.”

Jeff nodded.

“If it was you lying there in that bed paralyzed like her, would you blame her? After all, she didn’t have to follow. It could’ve been you to take that fall.”

“No.” Eyelashes spiked by tears and red-eyed, Jeff glared at her.

“Would you hate her for not having stopped you?”

He shook his head emphatically.

“Then why do you think she hates you?”

“‘Cause she does.”

“What makes you think that?”

“He does.”

“Your father?”

Jeff nodded, then whispered, “I do.”

Mark’s gut churned at the misery contained in those two soft words. Jeff’s guilt had morphed into self-hatred. Damn, he’d missed it. He’d missed it all. How could he not have guessed the kid felt that way? But then again, Jeff hadn’t opened up to anybody since the accident.

Skye rubbed Jeff’s back. “I know. I hate myself, too. And it hurts.”

Nobody talked; only the buzzing of the alarm ate up the time. Jeff scowled at the floor, but Mark knew he was listening to Skye. God, he hoped she wasn’t lying. Kids could tell when adults were lying, and they weren’t forgiving.

Skye’s pant pocket buzzed again with a phone call. “I promised my sister I’d find stem cells for my niece’s treatment. And I didn’t. And she died. At first I hated your dad. I blamed him for Niki’s dying. I figured it was his fault ’cause he used his power as a senator to block research that could have saved her.” She paused. Her arms dropped away from Jeff to curl around her stomach.

“But then I realized the person I was most angry with was me.” Skye leaned back against the wall, giving them both some space and looked up at the gridded white ceiling lights. “I failed. And Niki died.” She whispered, “And it hurt. So. Damn. Much.”

They sat for one long minute. Mark racked his brain for the right thing to say or do, but nothing came to mind. All he could do was try to become invisible while they lanced their wounds.

“Does it still hurt?” Jeff finally asked in a small voice.

“Yeah. It does. Not as much as before, but it still hurts. I don’t hate myself as much, now. But it took time.” Skye rolled her head sideways to look at him. “What you need to accept is that there’s no one to blame, really.