Come Back To Me (21 page)

Beau awoke to being pulled off of Tess’s bed and shoved out of the room. “What’s wrong? What happened?” Blinking rapidly, he tried to pull his mind out of its slumbering state.

Tess’s door slammed, the blinds closed. Beau was left floundering in the hall, listening to a frantic “Clear!” every few seconds from behind the door. He paced.

Mary came to his side, having just come on her shift. “They’re doing all they can, darlin’,” she said.

He panicked. “What happened? What’s going on?”

“She coded again,” Mary reached out, touched Beau’s forearm.

“Coded?”

“Stopped breathing,” she explained.

Beau’s features crumbled. He covered his face with his hands, then moved toward Tess’s door. Mary put herself between him and the door.

“I’m sorry, hon, but I can’t let you go in there,” her voice was sweet, yet firm.

“She’s my wife!” He tried to push past her.

A tall, thick orderly moved beside Mary in quick fashion. “I’m sorry, sir, but you have to wait in the hall. Let the code team do their work. There’s nothing you can do in there.”

Minutes passed as if stretched into hours—too many minutes. Beau leaned against the wall, his chest constricted. His stomach turned and twisted.
Let her live
, played over and over in his mind like a broken record. If only he could be in the room.
She has to make it.
In that moment, he knew that no matter what she’d done while he was away, he did not want to be without her.

Nurses filed out of Tess’s room, unable to meet Beau’s eyes. An unfamiliar male doctor followed, his face a mask of apprehension.

Beau rushed up to him, “Is she okay?”

The doctor looked at him without saying a word, lowered his eyes.

Beau grabbed his arm, “She’s okay, right?” Tears sprang from his eyes. His voice rose. “Tell me she’s alright!” he pleaded.

“She’s stabilized.”

Beau let out a breath. “Thank you,” he grabbed the doctor’s hand and shook it. “Thank you,” he said, wiping his eyes.

The doctor separated his hand gently from Beau’s. “She’s stabilized, for now, Mr. Johnson, but she wasn’t breathing for several minutes.”

“But she’s okay?” Beau’s eyes lit up, his hands fisted.

The doctor looked at Mary, who lowered her eyes.

A hunk of lead formed in Beau’s gut.

“We’ve got her on life support.”

Life support?

He let the words sink in before continuing, “Your wife’s been through a lot, Mr. Johnson. She was in a complete state of anoxia for nine full minutes. She was legally dead.”

A cold pain shot through Beau’s chest and arms. “But…but she’s on life support. She just has to get strong enough to breathe again, right?” Beau’s voice rose and cracked.

The doctor shook his head. “It means we’re breathing
for
her. Without oxygen, brain cells are destroyed after four to six minutes. Tess was without oxygen for nine minutes.” He sighed, softened his voice. “Recovery is not an outcome I would hope for. She’ll likely be in a vegetative state for the rest of her life. I’m sorry.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Kevin left Beau alone with Tess. He’d wanted to stay, but Beau had refused to let him remain in the room. Against Kevin’s better judgment, he’d left the hospital. He wasn’t going to fight with a man whose wife was on the verge of death. Rage mounted within him. His best friend was going to lose his wife
and
he thought she’d had an affair. Beau’s coming home should have been a time of celebration, instead, it was a nightmare. He should have called Tess, let her know Beau was coming home, then she’d have been in the house, not in her car. The unraveling of his best friend’s life was his fault. He pushed hard on the gas pedal, needing an outlet for his mounting anger. He headed toward Alice’s condo.

The lights in Alice’s window were out. Kevin’s heart thumped against his chest as he took the stairs two by two to Alice’s floor, then pounded on the door. When she didn’t answer, he banged, two, three, four more times—each rap echoed in the empty corridor.

Alice peered out of the peephole, pulling her bathrobe tight around her small waist and opening the door, “Kevin?” Her voice carried the weight of sleep. She opened the door. “Did you find Beau?”

Kevin pushed into the condo, his arms tense, “Why’d you do it, Al?”

“What?” she said innocently, taken aback by his anger.

“Why’d you call Louie?”

Alice tucked her hair behind her ear and sat on the couch. “I don’t know,” she said softly. “I guess I felt like he should be there.”

“Why?” his voice rose.

“What do you mean, why? They were
dating,
you know that,” her voice twisted with irritation.

“But you knew Beau was back!” He paced the floor, stopping in front of Alice, arms crossed, red-faced. “You knew it would cause trouble!”

“Kevin—”

“Was she having an affair before Beau left?” he spat.

“No!”

“Is the baby
Louie’s
?”

“No, Kevin. Jesus,” she stood and walked into the kitchen.

Kevin followed.

“Then why, Alice?” his voice rocketed between the ceramic tile and the ceiling.

“Please lower your voice. It’s hardly morning yet,” she put a pot of water on the stove, her hands trembling. “The baby’s Beau’s. You know that. Why are you yelling at me?”

“She’s dying, Alice. Tess is dying, and Beau thinks she had an affair and that the baby’s Louie’s.”

The spoon Alice had been holding clanked to the floor. Her legs weakened. She grabbed the counter. “She’s…she’s—”

“Shit.” Kevin lowered his voice, “I’m sorry, Al. I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that.”

“Dying?” she asked in a frightened voice.

Kevin nodded and reached out to her.

She pushed him away and turned her back. “You come in here accusing Tess of having someone else’s baby, yelling at me, and
now
you tell me she’s dying?” She spun around, her cheeks drenched in tears, her eyes venomous. “How dare you!”

“Ali—”

Alice’s body shook, her legs would not carry her to the door. She clung to the countertop, her fingertips white with force. “Get out,” she demanded. “Get out, get out, get out!” Her shrieks followed Kevin down the hall and into the elevator.

“She’s…she’s—” Alice’s sobs stole her voice.

“What is it, Alice? Slow down, honey,” Carol placed her left hand atop of the right, in an effort to stop the receiver from shaking. She wished Robert were there. She turned and looked toward the empty living room, then turned back toward the kitchen counter.

“She’s not good. Kevin said she might not make it.”

The receiver dropped from Carol’s hand, slamming into the cabinets, swinging from its cord like a hanging victim. Her ability to think, to move, to comprehend, slipped away. Her hands hung limply at her sides. Carol didn’t hear Robert’s footsteps as he stepped from the carpet onto the ceramic tile of the kitchen floor. She didn’t hear his high, panicked voice as he called her name. Carol’s body collapsed into a heap on the cold kitchen floor.

 “Carol!” Robert gasped, crouching beside her. His wife stared straight ahead, tears streaming down her cheeks. He touched her forehead, leaned her back against the cabinet. “Carol, what’s happened? Can you hear me?”

Carol heard his voice, but couldn’t find her own.

Robert grabbed a dishtowel and soaked it in cold water. He wiped her brow, her cheeks. “Carol?”

She blinked, turned toward his voice, as if just noticing he was there.

“What is it? What’s happened? Should I call a doctor?”

Carol leaned forward, reaching for his shirt. She grasped his open cardigan in two tight fists, and pulled him toward her. Her forehead rested against his chest. She stayed there, silently crying, unable to tell her husband that their son’s life was about to change forever. It wasn’t fair. He’d just relieved their grief, only to be given his own.

Chapter Thirty-Four

This wasn’t supposed to happen—none of it. Beau was supposed to return and Tess was supposed to jump into his arms, ecstatic to hold him. It wasn’t fair, and Beau was dead set on making someone pay. His body taut with anger, he clutched the bedrails of Tess’s bed so tightly they shook.
Louie. Fucking Louie.
Beau blazed with hatred. Breath shot from his nostrils fast and hard. He turned to leave, took two purposeful steps, then turned back.
Later,
he resolved.

The doctors were wrong. This wasn’t the end. Beau leaned over Tess’s body until his face was within inches of hers, the breathing tube a small viper, barely separating them.

“Wake up,” he said sternly.

Tess’s body remained still, her eyelids did not move.

“Wake up,” his voice rose, his hands moved up the rail to the stainless steel curve near Tess’s head.

“Wake up.” His hands hovered above Tess.

“Wake the fuck up,” he yelled. He clenched her shoulders and shook her. Her head bobbed up and down, her arms hung limp, like a rag doll’s. He shook her harder, his voice gaining strength with each shake. “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

Mary rushed into the room. “Mr. Johnson!” She grabbed his arms, pulling with all her might against his adrenaline-infused body. “Release her!”

Beau swiped his right arm backward, casting Mary off like a flea.

Mary pushed the emergency call button repeatedly. She grabbed at his arms again, pulling hard. “Let go! You’ll hurt her!”

“Wake up! Wake up, Tess!” he raged, pushing her body into the mattress. Mary’s voice, the monitors, faded into white noise. It was just he and Tess in the room, tunnel vision. 
Wake her,
he heard in his mind.
Wake her now
.

Two orderlies rushed into the room, each grabbing one of his arms and dragging him away as he flailed and twisted, screaming, “Get up, Tess! Wake up!”

“Get him into room 210,” Mary ordered.

Beau saw Tess slipping away before his eyes as he was dragged out of the room.

The orderlies stood, arms crossed in front of the door of room 210, an interior room with a couch, a table, two chairs, and despair. Beau paced, crossing and uncrossing his arms, pondering how he might get out of the damn room. He had to get to Tess. She had to wake up. This was a mistake, a goddamn mistake! It wasn’t she who got hit by the car, it couldn’t have been. This was a nightmare. It had to be. When would he wake up? He dug his nails into his forearms, trying to wake himself, sure the events weren’t real. Blood filled the crescent-shaped punctures.

Beau looked up at the squeak of the door.

“Mr. Johnson.” Dr. Kelly’s eyes were serious, her lips set firmly in a line. “Let’s sit down, shall we?” She motioned to the couch.

Beau sat on one of the upholstered chairs. He leaned forward, elbows on knees, his legs bouncing, eyes trained on his clasped fists.

“I understand—” Dr. Kelly began.

“It’s a mistake.” His gruff voice caused Dr. Kelly to lean back, distancing herself from him. “She’s not brain dead.”

“Mr. Johnson, it’s very common—”

Beau pushed to his feet, paced. “Don’t tell me what’s common. Tess isn’t common.” He turned to face Dr. Kelly.

“I can assure you—”

“Don’t assure me.” He moved closer to her. “Don’t fucking assure me. You don’t know Tess. You don’t know me.”

“Yes,” she said in a confirmatory tone. “I don’t know Tess, or you, but I know medicine. I can assure you, all tests indicate—”

“Tests? I don’t care about fucking tests! I know my wife, and she’s not brain dead.” He turned away, took two steps, then spun back toward her. “She’s sharp as a tack, able to do a hundred things at once without thinking about it. You’re wrong, Dr. Kelly, wrong.”

“Mr. Johnson, if it will make you feel more assured, I will order a retake of the tests. This is a difficult process.” Dr. Kelly stood, her voice softened. “I can assure you, we have no reason to indicate anything other than what the tests show.”

Beau stared her down, arms crossed, muscles twitching. He felt the orderlies approach from behind, and turned, giving them a don’t-even-think-about-it look.

“We can’t have you assaulting your wife, Mr. Johnson. You will only injure her further.”

“Assault? I didn’t assault my wife.”

“Shake, I’m sorry. You cannot shake your wife. If you’re deemed a threat to her, Mr. Johnson, we’ll have to ask you to refrain from seeing her.”

Beau’s arms fell to his sides. He let out a long breath, rubbed his hand down his face. His voice eased, “She’s my wife.” It sounded more like a question. Fresh tears sprang to his eyes. His anger changed to pain, vulnerability.

Dr. Kelly nodded. “Yes, she is.”

“My wife,” Beau said and collapsed onto the couch, his head in his hands. Beau couldn’t wrap his mind around Tess’s diagnosis. How could Tess be brain dead? The beautiful, bright woman he’d fallen in love with…brain dead? He cried like a child who’d lost his parent. His nose ran, his breath hitched. Salty tears dripped into his mouth.

Dr. Kelly gave a knowing glance to the orderlies. She sat next to Beau, her hand on his back.

“I’m sorry,” he said, unable to stop the tears. “I’m sorry.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Alice walked down the corridor towards the office. When had the hallway become so narrow? The path that used to invigorate her now gave her a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. The gold Top Staffing Consultants sign appeared at the end of the hall. Each step carried the weight of Alice’s grief, a grief so consuming she’d been unable to eat or sleep in more than fits and starts in the weeks since Tess’s accident. She stood before the door, mentally preparing herself for the empty office. Her cell phone rang. Kevin. She pushed Ignore and sighed, lifting her right leg to support her purse as she dug for her keys. Something crinkled beneath her booted foot. Alice let out a loud breath. Missing an envelope on a hall floor came as no surprise. She was becoming all too familiar with things slipping by her lately.  She retrieved the white, letter-sized envelope, and inserted the key into the lock.

The door pushed open, smooth and easy, its threshold a moat between her and the office—Tess’s domain. Stacks of folders sat upon her desk, the blinking red message light on the phone flashed as loudly as a needy infant’s wail in the silent room. A light jangling noise broke the silence—her keys, clanking against each other from her trembling hand. She clasped them in her palm.
You can do this.

Stepping across the threshold was like entering a sacred place where she’d never before tread. It felt different with Tess lying in a hospital bed. Her eyes trailed the path to Tess’s door, which stood open. Alice set her purse, keys, and the envelope down on her desk and walked toward the empty office. She stopped just shy of the door, her legs refusing to move forward. She returned to her desk. A lump formed in her throat, tears in her eyes. She sat on the chair behind her desk, staring at the envelope. She reached for it, expecting a note from the landlord, as it was the fifth of the month and she’d yet to pay their rent (or contact clients).

She withdrew a neatly-folded piece of white copy paper, flipped it over, and revealed a handwritten note. Her eyes drifted to the signature line.
Louie.

Café Deluxe wasn’t crowded, which was exactly what Alice had hoped for when she’d accepted Louie’s invitation to meet him. She walked past the three thirty-something males at the bar, her head slightly bent, eyes trained on the ground. She shook off the shiver that ran up her spine and headed for a secluded leather booth in the back. How had she ever found that game of cat and mouse acceptable? She played with the seam of the booth in which she sat, looking up every few seconds for Louie, her insides a whirling tornado of nerves. What if Kevin saw her? What was she doing? Was she being disloyal to Beau? To Tess?
To Kevin
?

“Ma’am?”

Alice startled.

“Would you like a drink?” The waiter looked eleven years old with his side-parted hair and spirited eyes.

“Um, yes, please, piña colada.” She remembered that she’d ordered that with Kevin and quickly changed her order. “Actually, I think I’ll have a sour-apple martini
.” I need the big guns for this one.

Louie arrived ten minutes later, his gait cautious, his eyes guarded. He slid into the booth across from Alice. She took note that he, too, looked as if he’d been lost on a desert island for the past two weeks without any food—or a hairbrush.

“Alice,” he said.

“Hi, Louie.” If discomfort had a taste, it would taste like this very moment in time.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to cause—”

“You didn’t,” she interrupted. “It was my fault.”
Damn. Tears.

Louie handed her a napkin. “How is she?”

Alice shook her head, rolling her lips into her mouth, trying to keep from sobbing uncontrollably, as she’d been doing for what seemed like forever.

“Wha—”

Alice covered her eyes.

Louie reached across the table and took her other hand. “Alice, what happened? Is she…did she…”

Alice shook her head. “No,” she sniffled. “No, she didn’t.”

Louie let out a loud breath.

Unable to bring herself to speak of Tess’s condition, she offered, “I shouldn’t have called you to come to the hospital, not with Beau there. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

The waiter brought Alice’s drink and took Louie’s order.

“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. Hell, we didn’t do anything wrong—or at least it didn’t feel wrong.” He looked away. “We thought he was dead,” he whispered. The waiter returned. Louie grabbed the frosty mug and took a long swig of beer, thankful for the distraction.

“I know,” she said.

“Jesus, Alice, I didn’t mean to come between them.”

The tenderness in Louie’s voice couldn’t be denied. Alice hated herself for what she knew she had to ask. “Louie?” She adjusted herself in the booth. “Did you…know Tess before he left?”

The inflection of the word “know” noted, Louie sat up straighter and looked Alice directly in the eye. “No, I didn’t
know
her before he left. Jesus, Alice, what kind of guy do you think I am?”

Alice wiped her eyes, finally able to stop the river of tears. “I didn’t think so. Beau thought—” there she went again, crossing loyalty lines. She shook her head, waved her hand in dismissal.

“Shit, no wonder he looked like he wanted to rip my head off.”

“He thinks the baby is yours,” she quickly added.

“Come on. I’m not like that.” He sighed, “That’s Beau’s baby. The Tess I know isn’t that type of person.” Disgust oozed from his words. “Hell, she wanted to call it off with me anyway.”

Alice let that drop. She didn’t have the strength to go down that path. It didn’t matter what Tess was thinking. It’ll never matter again what Tess was thinking.

“I’m going crazy, Alice. I don’t want to come between Tess and her husband, but…I gotta see her. I
miss
her.”

Alice played with the seam in the bench again, her eyes trailing down to her lap, toward the bar, anywhere but at Louie. They were two people connected by some strange plane—two people who had once been untouchable, unbreakable, now broken by the loss of the same woman.

“Can you let her know?” he pleaded. “Don’t make a big thing of it, just tell her I’m thinking of her?”

A lump swelled in Alice’s throat. Perspiration formed on her brow.

“Please? I respect their relationship. Her husband’s been through hell. I wouldn’t come between them. I just want her to know that I didn’t desert her.”

Alice set her jaw. She looked at Louie with brimming tears and a trembling lower lip.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, it’s just—”

Alice shook her head, whispered, “She’s…” She turned away, wiping the endless stream of tears. “Oh, God.” Sobs tore from her chest. How could she do this? Not like Kevin. No, she couldn’t be so cruel. With much pain and through hiccupping breaths, she took Louie’s soft, strong hand into her own. “She’s brain dead.” The words felt like gravel in her throat, and, she could only imagine, like knives in Louie’s heart.