Daniel's Gift (32 page)

Charles muttered under his breath and pushed back his chair. "I need some air."

"I'll come with you." Beverly followed him out of the room.

The housekeeper looked at Denise. "Ma'am?"

Denise shook her head. Left alone, she felt like crying. Her beautiful Thanksgiving dinner was a complete disaster. Damn Luke. And damn that woman for ruining everything. Denise had half a mind to go to the hospital and tell that Jenny to stay the hell out of their lives.

* * *

Jenny slipped a pair of earphones onto Danny's head, sticking the padded ends gently into his ears. She turned the volume down to a comfortable listening level and pushed Play. She could faintly hear the sounds of Nirvana pulsing through the Walkman.

It was Danny's favorite tape. She could still see him dancing around the living room like a rock star, playing an imaginary guitar, singing his heart out. God bless him. He had inherited her voice, and musical it was not.

She sat down in the chair next to the bed and studied his still form. He was lying on his back, still connected to the ventilator, because every time the doctor removed it, Danny stopped breathing. The pressure in his head was still there, not going down, not going up.

In other words, Danny was in a holding pattern, like an airplane circling over the airport, waiting for clearance to land. Only the call never came.

Six days of waiting. Six days of hoping. Six days of fear.

Jenny kicked her feet up under her body and wrapped her arms around her waist. She hummed to herself, trying not to hear the silence. The quiet bothered her, because Danny had always been such a loud kid. Now, there was nothing, a ghost in a hospital bed.

"Jenny?"

She turned around, expecting Luke, but it was Grace and her niece, Doris. She got up to greet them.

"Oh, my. Oh, my," Grace said, shaking her head. "He looks so little in that bed." Her eyes filled with tears, and she started to shake. Jenny looked at her with concern. "You don't have to come in, Grace. This is too much for you."

"No, I'm okay. I can't remember ever seeing Danny so still. He's such a jackrabbit. When he comes to my house, he jumps off the furniture and climbs up the doorways and I don't think he ever actually walks down the steps. How can he lie there so still?"

"I don't know. His body's resting, I guess. One of the doctors said Danny's brain is in hibernation. That when he's healed, he'll wake up, like a bear in winter. I try to hold on to that thought." Jenny put an arm around Grace's shoulders. "Thank you for coming. It means a lot to me."

"Has he opened his eyes at all?"

Jenny's throat tightened at the simple question. "Not once. The last time I saw him with his eyes open was Friday morning when he left for school. I'm not even sure he knows I'm here."

"Oh, he knows. A boy senses when his mother is close. And the two of you have always been so very close." Grace opened her black leather purse and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe her eyes.

Jenny felt a rush of emotion at Grace's words. "Sometimes I think I'm a terrible mother. I make so many mistakes."

Grace smiled. "He loves you. You love him. That's all that matters."

"We better go, Aunt Grace," Doris said. "We're supposed to be at Dad's house in fifteen minutes."

"Can I give Danny a kiss?" Grace asked.

"Of course you can."

Grace walked over to Danny and kissed him on the forehead. "Get better, young Daniel. I need my checkers partner back. Your mother's too easy." Grace looked over at Jenny, her blue eyes sharp and wise. "God be with you, child. It's always darkest before the dawn."

"I can't wait for the sun to come up."

"It will. It always does."

"But what if Danny doesn't wake up with the sun?"

Grace squeezed Jenny's hand hard. "Remember what I told you when Danny had that terrible case of the chicken pox and you lost your temporary job because you had to stay home and take care of him?"

Jenny looked at her for a long moment. "You said there was no greater joy than having a child, no matter how much pain or how many problems they bring with them."

"I think the words still hold true. Good-bye, dear."

"Good-bye."

"Take care, Jenny." Doris paused at the door. "That's the first time I've seen Aunt Grace so clear about things, especially memories. Maybe seeing Danny is good for her. I'll bring her again, if you don't mind?"

"I'd love it."

"Happy Thanksgiving."

"You too." Jenny couldn't bring herself to say the words. Thanksgiving was a time to give thanks for all the blessings in life. At this moment, there was only one thing she was thankful for, that Danny was still alive, even if that life was barely more than the beat of his heart.

With that thought in mind, Jenny laid her head gently against Danny's chest, just to make sure that his heart was in fact still beating. It was. There was still a chance. She had to believe in his recovery. She had to hang on.

Alan walked into the room, his face somber, his expression concerned. Jenny slowly straightened.

"Hi."

"Hi." He dug his hands into his pockets. "You didn't call me back yesterday."

"I'm sorry. I meant to."

"We need to talk."

Jenny turned away, not wanting to look into Alan's eyes. She felt guilty for having spent the previous day with Luke instead of with Alan. He was beginning to feel like a stranger to her. She couldn't remember why she had started dating him in the first place, why she had thought of marrying him.

The distance between them was as big as the Grand Canyon. Alan was on one side. She was on the other. He wanted to bridge the gap. She wasn't so sure. And that scared her, because Alan was reality and Luke was fantasy.

"Danny looks a little better, don't you think?" she asked, trying to divert their conversation from anything personal. "His color is good."

"Jenny."

"When I clapped my hands next to his ear, I think he moved."

"Jenny, please."

She looked at him. "What? What do you want?"

"Can we go outside? What I have to say to you, I don't want to say in front of Danny."

His words heightened her tension. Goose bumps crept up her spine. She wanted to say no, but Alan had already left the room, and she had no choice but to follow.

Alan didn't stop in the nurses' station but walked down the hall, through the waiting room and out into the atrium. The weather was crisp, the sky partially obscured with clouds. Alan pulled out a chair at one of the tables. Jenny reluctantly sat down.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's about Matt."

Matt? Thank God. For a moment she thought he was going to tell her he had seen her with Luke, seen her kissing a man she was supposed to hate.

"We located his car in Brenda's garage. The license plate was bent in half. There was a crack in one of the headlights."

Jenny stared at him, unsure where he was headed. "What are you saying?"

"I think Matt was driving the car that hit Danny."

* * *

"Merrilee, it's time to eat." Richard stood in the doorway to the kitchen. Merrilee glanced out the window for the hundredth time in the past hour. The cul-de-sac was empty.

"Jenny and Alan aren't here yet," she said, letting the curtain drop.

"Your father is getting sloshed. He's spouting off about Catholics, Clinton, and the right to bear arms. Your brother is sitting in front of the television critiquing every goddamn play the Cowboys make. And Constance is about to rip William's head off."

Merrilee sighed. "All right, I'll put the food on the table."

"Thank God."

Richard left the room without offering to help. Not that she would have allowed it. The kitchen was her domain, and she ran it with single-handed efficiency. With quick, effortless motions, she pulled out the various platters and trays and took them to the dining room.

When she walked into the family room to tell her family dinner was ready, William and Constance were wrestling over the controls to the video game, Richard was reading the newspaper, her father was rambling on about illegal aliens and welfare, and her brother was leaning back on the couch, popping peanuts into his mouth.

No one was making any effort at all to be a family, and it irritated the hell out of her. "Dinner is served," she said.

Twenty minutes later, dinner was over. Her big family meal had been eaten with the same enthusiasm as starving dogs going after one bowl of food. When their plates were empty, they were finished with the celebration.

"Can I go to Cassie's now?" Constance asked, shoving back her chair.

"We haven't had pie."

"I don't want pie, it's fattening."

"Sit down, please."

Constance sighed and sat down with a mutinous expression on her face.

"We've hardly had a chance to talk." Merrilee drew her finger around the edge of her water glass. "Richard. Why don't you tell us about your new ad campaign, the one you've been working so hard on?"

Richard shrugged. "It's a series of ads for a company called Morgan Hunt. They make hunting equipment."

"You mean like guns?" Constance asked. "You're working for a company that makes guns?"

"And what's wrong with that?" John slapped his son-in-law on the shoulder. "Man has a right to protect himself and his family."

"That's disgusting. Uncivilized." Constance thrust her nose in the air.

"Got another beer?" Matt asked Merrilee.

"No."

The conversation fell flat, and Merrilee's gaze drifted over to the two empty spots at the table, one for Jenny, and one for Alan. Although in her mind, she didn't see Alan next to Jenny, but Danny, chomping noisily on his food, hiding his lima beans under the mashed potatoes, and exchanging knock-knock jokes with Matt.

Her heart caught. Her eyes grew misty. She blinked back the emotion, hating when it took her unawares, when she couldn't control it. When her vision cleared, Merrilee realized she was all alone, except for Richard. He was sitting at the other end of the table, his fingers drumming restlessly on the tablecloth, and he was watching her in a way that was very personal, very disturbing.

"I guess we'll have coffee in the family room," she said. "It will be more comfortable there to sit and talk."

"Stop trying so hard to make this a normal day," Richard said. "It's not normal. We're all worried about Danny and Jenny."

"You could hardly tell that from the conversation."

"Everyone's afraid, Merrilee." Richard got up and walked around the table. He sat down in the chair next to hers, recently vacated by William. "We're terrified that Danny's going to die. Admit it, you're afraid, too."

"Of course, I am. He's just a child. It could be William or Constance lying in that bed. I couldn't stand it if anything happened to one of our children." The emotion came again, unexpected, undeterred by her will not to let anyone know how upset she was. "I feel so guilty. That first night when I came home from the hospital, I thanked God it wasn't my child."

The tears ran down her cheeks in a stream. She wanted to stop crying. She was ugly when she cried. The tears continued to flow. Richard pulled her into his arms. It was the first time he had held her in weeks.

"What's happening to us?" she murmured against his sweater. "What's happening to our family?"

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jenny slapped Alan hard across the cheek. It sounded like a gunshot. "How dare you say such a thing? Matt is my brother. My brother. He wouldn't hurt Danny, not on his life. You're making it up. You want so badly to pin this on someone, you're willing to blame it on my brother, who you've never liked. In fact, you don't like anybody in my family, except Merrilee. And God knows, she likes you, because you're not -- "

"Not what? Or should I say, not who?" Alan's face turned white except for the red mark on his cheek.

Jenny turned away. He put his hand on her arm and pulled her back around.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked.

"I'm trying to find out who hurt your son. I should think you'd appreciate that."

"But my brother, Alan? My God, how could you think I'd want to hear that?"

"Matt was drinking heavily Friday night. By his own admission, he has no memory of what took place between the time he left the Acapulco Lounge, just six minutes before the estimated time of Danny's accident, until the next day."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"He still doesn't know where his car is. Fortunately, I was able to locate Brenda, the woman who accompanied him from the bar Friday night. She told me his car was in her garage, and that she didn't think to tell anyone, because she assumed Matt knew where his car was."

Jenny tried to follow his explanation, tried to focus on the facts instead of the panic building in her throat. "Maybe it was Brenda. Maybe she did it."

"She said Matt drove them to her house, that they didn't go to the next bar as planned, because it was too foggy. Brenda said Matt hit the brick wall at the edge of her property as he turned into her driveway."