Accident (26 page)

And then slowly, exquisitely, he entered her, and as he did his passion died instantly along with his erection. He tried to cover it for a while, and then to revive the flames, but it was obvious that his confusion and his pain had affected more than just their marriage.

“I'm sorry,” he said hoarsely as he lay on the bed next to her, furious at what had happened. She was still breathless, and bitterly annoyed at herself for giving in to him. In the context of what was happening to their lives, it seemed wrong to sleep with him, even though he was still her husband. And she didn't want to be part of a team sleeping with him, or open herself up to getting hurt by him again, as he had already hurt her.

“You can't lie to your body, Brad,” she said sadly. “Maybe that's your answer.”

“I feel like a fool,” he said angrily, as he stalked across the room, his handsome form looking better than ever. But she had to deal with reality now, and no matter how much she had once loved him, it was over. For now, at least, and maybe forever.

“Maybe you'd better make up your mind before we screw things up worse than they are,” she said reasonably, and he nodded. This was ridiculous, and not good for anyone. And it seemed odd to him that in the past year, he had frequently gone straight from Stephanie's bed to hers, with only a few hours breather, and it had never been a problem. But now that she knew, it changed everything. He was almost sorry he had told her, except that he had needed the freedom. He owed Stephanie something too, and he hadn't been doing her justice either. He was surprised how much he liked living with her, and how easy she was to be with. She wanted him to move in with her now, and she had recently threatened to leave him if he didn't. But what he really wanted was to put Page away for a while, like in a closet, or a deep freeze, spend a year with Stephanie, and then come back to find everything the way it had been. It would have been nice if he could do that.

“Maybe I should move out,” he said miserably, sitting next to her on the bed again. Suddenly all he wanted was to see Stephanie and prove that he wasn't impotent. His little episode with Page had scared him.

“I'm not pressuring you to do anything,” Page said quietly, her long, lean body naked under the thin nightgown, but he wasn't looking. She felt stupid for letting him make love to her, and suddenly she longed for Trygve.

“I think whatever we do, it should be fairly soon. I don't think I can take a lot of this …and neither can Andy. Your coming and going and disappearing acts are a little wearing,” she said sadly.

“I know.” But in the past two weeks nothing in their life had been normal. In his own way, he was as traumatized as Page and Andy, and he was not making great decisions. “Let's just see what happens.”

She nodded, and went to take a long bath, trying not to think of Trygve. She didn't want their relationship to be a result of Brad's rejecting her, or the trauma of the accident either. If anything happened with him, she wanted it to be because they genuinely had something good to share, and could have a good life, or a good time, or were meant to be together. She wanted it to be right …and nothing like what had happened with Brad. She knew it was going to be hard to trust anyone now, even Trygve.

Brad was asleep when she went back to bed, and gone the next morning when she got up. He left a note, saying he was playing golf, and he wouldn't be home for dinner. He didn't say what club he was playing at, or with whom, and she knew instantly that it was a lie. He was with Stephanie, the night before had frightened him, and he was running away to her for reassurance. She threw the note away and sighed just as the phone rang.

“Hi, Page, how's life?” It was Trygve who was calling about Andy. He knew he couldn't play baseball with his broken arm, and he wanted to know if she'd like to leave him to play with Bjorn when she went to see Allie. Unless Brad wanted to be with him, of course, but he suspected correctly that that might not happen.

“My housecleaner is here today, and she could keep an eye on both of them. I want to spend some time with Chloe,” Trygve explained.

“He'd love that,” Page said, grateful for his help again. Whatever else happened between them, he had been a remarkable friend to them, and she would never forget it. “I'll tell him. What time do you want him?” It was ten o'clock then, and she wanted to be at the hospital by eleven.

“Just drop him off on your way. I'll tell Bjorn, he'll be thrilled. He was upset at my going over to see Chloe without him. But he gets so restless after a little while when I take him. He plays with everything, and he drives the nurses crazy.” She laughed at the image, but knowing Bjorn now it wasn't cruel, it was touching.

Andy was thrilled with the invitation, and the woman who cleaned house for Trygve once a week promised to watch them. She seemed very nice, and Page felt comfortable leaving Andy there. The boys disappeared immediately to Bjorn's room to watch a video, and Page gave Trygve a ride to Marin General.

“How's it going with Brad?” he asked gently on the way, “or should I mind my own business?” It was a little bit more his business now too, he had a vested interest in all of this suddenly, but he didn't want to pressure her and she was looking unhappy. She was still uncomfortable about the night before, and sorry it had happened. In an odd way she felt slightly guilty toward Trygve.

“It's difficult. I think we're in the last throes, but he's afraid to admit it.”

“What about you? Are you ready to move on?” He had a stake in this now, and wanted to know what she was feeling.

She glanced at him as she drove, she wanted to be honest with him. She liked him too much not to be. “I don't want to move too fast … or do anything stupid … I don't want …” She struggled for the words, but he already understood, and he was comfortable with it. He wouldn't have expected anything different. “I don't want to do something on the rebound. Or something we'll regret that will hurt us later.”

“Neither do I,” he said calmly, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “I'm not going to push you, or do something we'll both regret. You have all the time you need. And if you can work things out with Brad again, then I'll be sorry for me, but happy for both of you. Your marriage comes first …and after that, I'm here if you need me.”

She pulled into a parking space at the hospital, and turned to look at him, grateful for all he'd said. The funny thing was that in spite of what she'd once felt for Brad, Trygve was everything she wanted. “How did I ever get so lucky?”

“I'm not sure I'd call it that,” he laughed ruefully. “We've paid a hell of a price for all this, you and I. Bad marriages, maybe mine more than yours, but yours doesn't seem to be such a peach either …the accident …our kids almost died …maybe we've earned this.” She nodded. It was true. The accident had changed everything, but maybe in the end, it would bring them blessings too. It was hard to know yet. “I love you, Page,” he said softly then, and leaned toward her and kissed her. He put his arms around her and pulled her close to him. They sat there quietly for a long time, feeling at peace in the May sunshine. It had been exactly two weeks since the accident. It was hard to believe it.

They went inside to see their daughters then. She chatted with the nurses now and then. And he came to bring her lunch in the ICU a few hours later. He walked her slowly to the waiting room, and handed her a turkey sandwich and a cup of coffee. He was telling her about his latest article, which he'd finished the night before, and it sounded intriguing. But more than anything, it amazed Page how he took care of her, how he thought of everything, how he was there for her and Andy, and his own family. He seemed to nurture everyone, and she needed that very badly.

“How's Allie today?”

Page shrugged in answer, looking discouraged. She had worked with the therapist for over an hour, they had massaged her limbs and done everything they could. But it was obvious that she was losing weight and there was no improvement. “I don't know …it's been two weeks, and it seems like forever. I guess I expected some kind of miracle by now, even a small one.” It had been ten days since her last brain surgery, she had stabilized, and the pressure had gone down, but she was still in a deep coma.

“They told you it could go on for a long time. Months maybe. You can't give up yet,” he said gently. It was so much easier for him, with Chloe so alive, so damaged, but so clearly out of danger. She might face future surgeries, and they would have to teach her to walk again, but the real danger was over. Now she had to adjust to the long grind of rehabilitation, and face the fact that her dreams of being a ballerina were over. No small thing, but she was in much better shape than Allyson, who still might die at any moment. It seemed so cruel to him that she might live for weeks, or even months, and still die in her coma. It was more than any parent should have to bear, and he hated to have Page go through it.

“I'm not giving up,” Page said, picking at the sandwich he had brought her. He knew that if he had left her there, she wouldn't have eaten it, which was why he had stayed with her. Besides, he wanted to be with her, although he claimed he needed a respite from Chloe and her friends. Chloe's high spirits were definitely returning. “I just feel so helpless,” Page said bleakly.

“You are. But you're doing everything you can, and so are the doctors. Give it time. It could go on like this for weeks, with no sign, and then she might wake up, and be relatively okay.”

“They said that if there's no sign of improvement at all after six weeks, she might remain in the coma.”

“But she could come out of it later than that too. It's happened before with kids her age …three months, isn't that what you said?” He encouraged her, but her eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. So much was happening, so much to endure, so much to cope with, and at times she just felt like she couldn't face it.

“Trygve, how am I going to get through this?” She leaned her head against his chest and cried. It was easy to escape into thinking about him, or being angry at Brad, or worrying about Andy's arm. But the most important thing that was happening, the thing that all of them could barely face, was that Allyson might be dying.

“You're doing fine,” he said gently as he held her. “You're doing everything you can. The rest is in God's hands.”

She pulled away to look at him then, and he handed her a paper napkin to blow her nose with. “I wish He'd hurry up and fix it.”

Trygve smiled. “He will, give Him time.”

“He's had two weeks, and my life is falling apart.”

“Just hang in there. You're doing great.” One thing she knew for sure was that she couldn't have done it without him. Brad was God knows where doing God knows what. She knew he had come to see Allie at least once every day or two, but he couldn't take the anguish of the ICU for longer than a few minutes. He still couldn't face it. He couldn't face the sameness, the lack of change, the machines, the monitors, and the fact that they might lose her. He was leaving Page to cope with it alone. He had been a lot better about it when they had had Andy. But they had been younger then, and Andy had been so tiny and sweet. The incubator was filled with hope, and the ICU was filled with dying.

Page and Trygve sat talking for a long time, and he teased her that she was upset because of her mother's arrival the next day, and actually she didn't deny it.

“Why do you hate her so much?” he asked, he had wondered about it. It wasn't like her.

“Old news. I had a fairly rotten childhood.”

“Most people did. My father, good Norwegian that he was, thought an occasional caning was an important part of life. I still have a scar on my behind from one particularly vigorous session.”

“How awful!” She looked horrified.

“That was the way in those days. And he'd probably do it again now, if he had children. He can never understand why I'm so liberal with my kids. Actually, I think he and my mother are a lot happier now that they're back in Norway.”

“Could you ever see yourself living there?” she asked, intrigued, trying to forget her worries about Allie. He was right. There was nothing she could do but wait, hope, and pray. And see what happened.

“No, I couldn't,” he said in answer to her question about Norway. “Not after living here. The winters are endless there, and it's dark all day long. It's kind of primeval. I don't think I'd survive anymore out of California.”

“Yeah, me too.” The idea of moving to New York again made her shudder. Although she would have liked the opportunity to pursue her artwork there. But she could do it in California too. She just hadn't bothered. Brad had always made her feel that it was something she should do for friends, or in their kitchen. Not something she should ever work at. Somehow he felt that what she did wasn't important. She'd promised to do another mural for the school, but spending every spare moment at the hospital, she didn't have time now.

“You ought to do something here,” Trygve said later, looking around them. The waiting room was a dismal place, and the hallway was worse. “It's so depressing. One of your murals would give people something to think about while they wait. They make you happy just looking at them,” he said admiringly.

“Thank you. I enjoy it.” She looked around the room, thinking of what she could do there, but hoping she wouldn't be there long enough to do it.

“Am I going to meet your mother while she's here?” he asked comfortably, and Page rolled her eyes while he laughed. “She can't be that bad.”

“Actually, she's worse, but she can be pretty subtle about it when she wants to. She refuses to face anything disagreeable. Or discuss it. This is going to present quite a challenge for her.”

“At least she sounds cheerful. What about your sister?”

Page could only laugh. “She's very special. They both are. I didn't see them at all for the first few years after I came out here, and then my father died, and I felt sorry for my mother, so I invited her out. That was a mistake. She and Brad fought like cats and dogs every day, subtly of course, it's all very passive aggressive, but it gives me a stomachache to be around it. And of course she thought I had no idea how to bring up Allie.”