Daniel's Gift (29 page)

"Look who's talking," Jenny said, referring to Pru's endless parade of no-good love affairs.

"So, I give advice better than I take it. Sue me." Pru popped a bubble of gum in front of Jenny's face.

"I'll think about what you said. Say one of your prayers for me, okay?"

"You know I will. And Jenny -- oh, forget it."

"What?"

"I believe things happen for a reason."

"What reason could there be?"

"Danny's father was meant to come back into your life."

"I don't want Luke in my life, I want Danny."

"Maybe you can have both."

* * *

Later that morning, Luke entered Sheri-Tech with barely a glance at the receptionist or the other employees who wanted to score points by saying hello to the boss. The only thing he had on his mind was Danny. He wanted answers, and he wanted them fast. Danny had been in a coma for five days. It was not a good sign. The longer it took for him to come out of it, the worse his prognosis would be.

As he walked down the hall to his office, Luke felt a rush of frustration. He had spent his entire life pursuing a career in medicine. He'd be damned if he would sit by and let his son die without the fight of his life.

He had resources and money, the best medical minds in the country. Danny would live. He would see to it.

Luke brushed by his secretary, Lorraine Parker, without a word, ignoring her muttered hello and the stack of pink slips in her hand. He had been in the office no more than two hours the day before and not at all on Monday. Such absenteeism was akin to the Pope missing Mass. His father had set a precedence of working hard every day. Luke had always followed that ethic, until now, until his mind refused to let go of Danny and focus on anything else.

"Dr. Sheridan?" His secretary hesitated in the doorway. "Shall I put these on your desk?"

"Fine. Fine."

"Your father called three times. Shall I dial him for you?"

"Not right now, thanks."

Lorraine looked at him in horror. She had worked for his father for ten years and whatever Charles wanted, Charles got.

"It's no trouble. He seemed impatient," she persisted.

Luke frowned at her. "My father is retired, Mrs. Parker. It's about time he learned some patience."

She left the room with an irritated, "Hmph."

Luke set his briefcase down on the floor, picked up the phone and punched out the extension for Keith Avery, Sheri-Tech's top scientist. Keith was smart, thorough, and had a background in neurology. If anyone could help him find a way to bring Danny out of a coma, it would be Keith.

"Avery," the man said.

"Keith, Luke. Have you found anything?"

"No. I'll need more information on the exact injury."

Luke nodded, flipping through his Rolodex as he spoke. "Call Lowenstein. That's Danny's doctor. Tell him you work for me. He'll be happy to cooperate."

"I'm on it."

Luke set down the phone and looked up, not surprised to see Malcolm walking through the door.

"I heard you were back." Malcolm settled into the chair in front of Luke's desk. "Want to tell me why I've had three calls from the press this morning, claiming you're someone's father?"

Luke sat down in his chair. "You heard."

"Along with the rest of San Mateo County. Don't you know better than to make announcements in a hospital? The news got out the door faster than you did."

"I'd forgotten about the workings of the hospital grapevine."

"So, it is true?"

Luke nodded. "Yes, it's true. Years ago, before Denise, I was involved with someone. She got pregnant. I thought she had an abortion."

"But she didn't." Malcolm let out a long, shrill whistle. "This is not good. How much does she want?"

Luke sighed as he sat back in his chair. Why was he surrounded by people who thought only in terms of dollars and cents? Didn't they realize there was a boy's life at stake?

"She doesn't want anything, Malcolm. Nothing. The child is in a coma." Luke picked up a glass paperweight and rolled it around in the palm of his hand. His initials were engraved on the glass. It had been a present from his parents, celebrating his long-awaited arrival at Sheri-Tech. He had finally come home.

But come home to what? A life that barely needed him in it. Sheri-Tech was so well organized it practically ran itself. Any changes he attempted to make, even small ones, were met with resistance. His father's philosophies and goals were written in stone.

And his home -- it was the same. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see his parents' image, feel their smothering love. Their voices rang around in his head. "You'll study hard. You'll be a doctor. You'll take over Sheri-Tech."

He'd done it, all of it. And now he was left with what? What? The answer refused to come.

"Luke." Malcolm snapped his fingers in front of Luke's face. "I'm talking to you."

Luke straightened. "What did you say?"

"I asked how you want to handle this. With clinical trials starting after the first of the year and the possible acquisition of Genesys, we need to present a solid, unified front."

"I'm aware of our plans, Malcolm."

"Then why did you miss the meeting last night?"

Luke sent him a blank look.

"Cappellini's restaurant at seven, remember?"

Luke cleared his throat. He did remember, now. Yesterday he had been thinking only of Jenny. "I forgot. I'll call and apologize."

"Good. If there is any suspicion that your mind is occupied elsewhere or that you'll be entangled in a long, legal battle, Genesys may go elsewhere. They do have other suitors."

Luke looked at Malcolm and shrugged. "If they do, they do. Frankly, I don't give a damn about Genesys or Sheri-Tech right now."

"What?" Malcolm stared at him in disbelief.

Luke leaned forward in his chair. "You heard me. I have a son, Malcolm. You should understand what that means. You have children."

"I -- yeah, I guess. But, Luke, this is your business."

"My whole life has been about business. Danny is family. He comes first."

"But Sheri-Tech is also your family, Luke. It's your father's legacy to you."

"My father ..." Luke suddenly felt an intense rage spread through his body. On impulse, he threw the glass paperweight against the wall. It landed on the marble tile and shattered. The family ties were finally broken.

Malcolm jumped to his feet. "Calm down. Jesus, Luke, I've never seen you lose your cool before. I'll take care of this. Relax, okay?"

"I can't relax. I'm assigning three people to review Danny's case. I'm not leaving anything to chance."

"What can you do that his doctors can't?"

"Dammit, I don't know. I've spent my entire life believing that science has the answer to every human problem. Only things don't add up anymore, and I don't know how to fix them."

"Maybe you can't."

"I have to."

"You're not God." Malcolm walked to the door. "I'll handle Genesys. We'll reschedule the meeting for next week, give you a chance to catch your breath. And I'll write up a press release, short and sweet, just the facts."

"Fine, just don't put anything in there that reflects negatively on the St. Claires. Jenny and Danny have been through enough." Luke paused. "And, Malcolm, tell Lorraine to call maintenance. Have them turn up the heat. It's cold in here."

"Turn it up? Charles thought his staff would fall asleep if they were too warm."

"I'm not my father, Malcolm. It's about time everyone realized that." Luke turned his chair around so he could look out the window. The horizon soothed his jangled nerves. But only for a moment. Then he thought about Danny and the tension came back.

* * *

"Where are we going?" Danny asked Jacob as they soared through the sky.

"To meet a friend of mine," Jacob replied, leading him through a white, puffy cloud. "There he is."

Jacob and Danny landed in the middle of a baseball field. There was a game going on, and Danny jumped as the ball suddenly came at him.

Jacob laughed. "You're supposed to catch it, not duck."

"I don't have a mitt." Then Danny looked down at his left hand and saw the leather glove. Before he could ask how it had gotten there, another ball came his way. It was going over his head. He ran backward, then gave a last, hopeless jump. To his amazement, the ball landed right smack in the middle of his mitt.

"Throw it home," Jacob said. "Home," he cried.

Danny hurled the ball to home plate. The catcher made a sweeping tag. The runner was out.

Danny jumped up and down in excitement. "I can't believe I did that."

Another boy came running up to him. "Nice play," he said. "I'm Michael."

"Hi." Danny shifted his feet, not sure what to say, how to act. The game appeared to be over now. The other kids were huddled in the dugout, listening to their coaches. Danny watched as Jacob walked over to the pitcher's mound. He did an exaggerated wind-up, then threw the ball right over the plate.

"S-t-r-i-k-e," Jacob yelled.

Danny rolled his eyes and looked back at Michael. "Do you know him?" he asked.

"Everybody knows Jacob. He comes here all the time. Never brought anyone before though."

Danny looked around at the field. It appeared to be in the middle of nowhere. Could have been any state in the U.S. Or maybe he wasn't in the real world at all. "Is everyone here dead?" he asked.

Michael nodded. "Yep."

There was a wealth of meaning in Michael's simple reply, a meaning that scared Danny, but for the moment he didn't want to face up to the future.

"How did you die?" Danny asked

"I was born with cystic fibrosis," Michael said. "I could hardly breathe. I couldn't play sports. My chest hurt all the time. The worst part was my parents. They cried because they couldn't help me. I wanted to die for a long time. I used to pray to God that he'd take me back. After all, I figured he sent my parents a lemon, and it was time to recall the product."

Danny was shocked by his matter-of-fact attitude. Maybe here in heaven, people just got used to being dead. "I guess he heard you."

"After I died, my father went out and raised money for cystic fibrosis patients," Michael added. "He's done a lot of good for other kids. My mom isn't stressed out anymore. She started painting again -- only this time her pictures have more depth. See, Danny, I was only meant to be with them for a short while."

"Don't you miss them now?"

"I can see them," Michael said. "I can't touch them. They can't touch me. But someday we'll be together again. They'll be happy to see me this way." Michael puffed up his chest. "I can breathe great now."

"Ifs different for me, though. I wasn't sick before."

"You are now. You have a head injury. The doctors don't know what functions you'll have when and if you come out of that coma. They don't know if you'll be able to walk or run or hit a baseball. You might even be retarded."

Danny stared at Michael, suddenly terribly afraid. He didn't want to be sick. He wanted things to be the way they were. "I still want to go back," he said.

"Even if there's pain, Danny? Even if you're a cripple? You had things pretty easy before," Michael pointed out. "Never sick. Great mom. Plenty of food. You don't know what it's like to suffer."

"I don't want to know what it's like." Danny looked around him, wondering if he'd be struck down for such a selfish statement. But no one seemed to notice. "Weren't you scared to die?" he asked Michael, still amazed at the other boy's courage.

Michael nodded. "Yeah. At first. But when my angel came, when I saw the light, I knew it would be all right."

"Was Jacob your angel?"

Michael started to laugh. "No way."

"Why do you say it like that?" Danny asked suspiciously.

"Never mind."

Jacob walked over to them. "Did you see that pitch, kid? Man, I'm good."

Danny frowned. "I want to go back, Jacob. I want to see what's happening -- talk to my dad again. What do I have to do to go home?"

Michael and Jacob exchanged a long look.

"Someone tell me," Danny cried.

"Relax, kid. It's a long game. Anything can happen, even with two outs in the bottom of the ninth."

Danny looked at him in confusion, not sure if Jacob was telling him to keep the faith or just saying something stupid. "Can I at least see my dad again?"

"I think that can be arranged. I do have some interesting news. Your dad came right out and told everyone you're his kid."

Danny's eyes widened in amazement. "He did?"

"Yes sirree."

"Are my parents getting back together?"

"Your father is married."

"He could get a divorce. My mother still loves him. I know she does."

"Your accident brought them back together."