Safe & Sound (3 page)

“I thought you might be up,” Lanie said from the doorway. She came across the room and sat down next to me, placing her hand on my knee. “How are you doing?”

“How am I supposed to be doing?” I asked. Lanie had always been the most compassionate and sensitive of our group. So it was no surprise to any of us that she became a licensed child psychologist. She was already running a very successful practice of her own in Raleigh before the age of 30.

“Jill, it’s not a question I can answer for you,” Lanie replied, pushing her short blonde hair from her eyes.

“Don’t psychobabble me, Lanie.”

“I’m not. I am simply trying to see where you are at.”

“Where I’m at? Let’s see. My husband of a little over two years was hit by a drunk driver yesterday and the doctor informed me that he was brain dead.” I paused to take a breath. “I’m not really sure what brain dead means, but I know he’s not coming back, even though it just looks like he’s lying there, sleeping.” I stood up as the anger began to build. “How the hell am I expected to make all these decisions? Do you know they asked me yesterday whether I wanted to donate his organs? I mean he wasn’t even out of surgery and they were already asking me these questions, and of course I have no idea how to answer them. Jay and I hadn’t talked about stuff like that. We kept telling ourselves we had time, there was no need to rush. Now what do I do?” I said, facing Lanie and waving my hands in the air.

“Way to go, Lanie. Get her all worked up,” Stella commented from the doorway. “I thought you were supposed to be the professional amongst us,” she added dryly.

“This is normal. This is healthy,” Lanie said, looking at Stella.

“Healthy? I’m standing right here, you know. I just lost my husband, remember? … I’m not some patient you can just evaluate.” I paused and stared at the two of them. “I need a shower,” I finally said and stormed off toward the bathroom.

I stood in the shower, letting the hot water cascade over me until I had used it all up. I got out of the shower, dressed, and made my way downstairs. Lanie and Stella were both sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over, whispering to each other.

“You shouldn’t whisper. It’s not polite,” I commented as I moved past them and poured myself a cup of coffee that someone had brewed that morning.

“We were just discussing what we should do today,” Stella said defensively.

“What do you mean, ‘what we should do’? We are going to see Jay.”

“And then what?” Lanie asked.

“What do you mean, ‘then what?’” I was confused. This wasn’t some vacation. We didn’t need an itinerary.

“We need to discuss your plans, Jill. What about funeral arrangements? Do you want to have a service? People need to be contacted,” Stella added softly.

“He’s lying in the hospital, hooked up to all those tubes. He’s still breathing you know! And you two are ready to throw him in a pine box and put him in the ground.” I was angry again, shouting at both Stella and Lanie.

“He’s gone, Jill,” Lanie said very firmly. “Those tubes and machines—they can’t bring him back. They are just trying to keep his organs going until you decide what’s next.”

“How can I decide what’s next when I don’t know myself. I’ve never done this before and I thought it would be another 50 or 60 years before I would have to.” I shouted less forcefully as the tears from the previous day started all over again. “We are … were … young … we didn’t talk about this stuff. I don’t know if we even completed our wills,” I said through my tears.

“Don’t know?” Stella asked.

“We started them a couple weeks ago. Jay was updating several policies and doing his investment stuff when he brought it up. I think we filled out some stuff, but I don’t know if he ever sent them out.” I paused. Talking about mundane things seemed to be more calming.

“Jill, come sit down. Let’s figure this out as we always do, together,” Lanie said and moved the kitchen chair out so I could sit down.

Just then, my phone rang. Stella grabbed it from the table and handed it to me.

“Shit,” I said as I read the caller ID.

“What?” Stella and Lanie asked.

“It’s my principal.”

They both had alarmed faces as I answered the call.

“Jill? It’s Jennifer Bentley.”

“Hi Jennifer.”

“I was just concerned because you didn’t show up for school this morning, which is very unlike you. I have gotten someone to cover your class for the rest of the day, but I wanted to call and see if our communication lines got crossed.” In reality this was her passive-aggressive manner of asking if I were playing hooky. I could tell she was agitated. She did not like it when teachers missed school and she had to find subs at the last minute.

“Jennifer, listen. Jay was in a terrible accident yesterday and I forgot to call,” I stammered.

“Oh my! Is he okay?” She didn’t wait for a reply and started to give me her customary “Let us know if we can do anything to help you” speech when I interrupted.

“Jennifer, Jay is dead.” Renewed tears brimmed and threatened to begin flowing again. And just as she had at the hospital, Stella relieved me from phone duty and finished explaining the rest of the situation to my principal.

“She’s kind of a really big bitch, but you are on indefinite leave from school,” Stella said as she put down the phone. I didn’t have any energy to question the decision. At that moment I couldn’t even think about standing in front of a class with 20 five- and six-year-olds staring back at me. We sat in silence around the kitchen table for several moments before my phone started to light up with text messages and calls from different teachers and parents throughout the school system. Apparently, news of my tragedy was now spreading and everyone was probably gossiping about how “tragic” the whole thing was and how “young” we both were, all the while being glad they could still go home and hug their loved ones.

I knew that Stella and Lanie were right: I needed to make some decisions. The logical part of myself told me Jay was gone and I needed to start making the proper arrangements. The other part told me to hold on and fight for him, that somehow, by some miracle, he was going to recover. He would be the exception. I stood up from the table and looked at my friends.

“What time are we allowed back at the hospital?” I asked.

“After 11,” Stella answered.

“What about Jay’s dad?” I asked.

“Harry called earlier and said that he got in alright and that he was going to take him over right at 11 like you discussed yesterday. Harry mentioned that Jay’s dad wasn’t dealing with the news very well,” Lanie said, adding, “Jay’s dad—”

“Peter. That’s his name,” I said.

“Peter said he would support whatever decisions you decided on.”

I knew that I should give Peter some time alone with Jay so there was no need to rush over to the hospital.

“Okay. I need a couple hours … alone. I need to look through some things in the office and figure out what Jay’s wishes were and medically what my options are,” I said.

“Do you want to call Dr. Matthews or Dr. Shippling?” Lanie asked.

“No. I need to do this on my own. In the meantime, I need you to manage my phone,” I said, pointing to my iPhone on the kitchen table. “I can’t deal with all the calls and the pity. I don’t care what you tell them but I don’t … I can’t handle it right now.”

I turned and headed to the small office we had made at the back of the house. It was probably the place Jay spent the most amount of time. Technically, he was employed by a large law firm back in Massachusetts, but since he spent most of his time on the road, traveling, making deals and negotiating mergers, they didn’t care where he lived, so we ended up staying in Greensboro. I had grown up in the area and Jay fell in love with the area during his time at Wake Forest, so we decided to stay. Jay once told me he felt guilty after Harry followed him down there. Because of the pact they had made about traveling and being bachelors, he just couldn’t get up and move away after Harry had established himself on the police force. Moreover, Jay had no interest in going home after his mother died.

I now sat in his big leather chair behind his oak desk. His papers were still all spread around the desk from whatever he had been working on that Friday. We were going to dinner with friends and Jay had worked until the time we needed to leave. I had been rushing him so that we wouldn’t be late. I turned the computer on and as I waited for it to load up, I started shifting through various items, looking for the draft will we had discussed. I remembered we had just completed a rough outline and had to go back and make some major decisions. Not having any kids or large amounts of property or investments, it seemed to be a simple process. Jay was worried about some of his investments and said he wanted to discuss them further with me. But we hadn’t had the time with all his business travel and my school year starting back up.

I finally located a copy of the document and noticed it had already been faxed to a lawyer’s office. The name scribbled on the sheet read “Paul Wellon.” When the computer finally loaded, I pulled up Google search and typed in the keywords that the doctors had used the previous night. I pored through various articles about brain trauma and vegetative states. Feeling deflated and more depressed then when I started, I changed my search to organ donation. The more I read, the more overwhelmed I became by all the wonderful stories from both the survivors and those who had lost loved ones. I glanced down at the clock and saw that it was after 12. I turned off the monitor and searched for a few more important numbers before heading back into the kitchen.

Stella and Lanie still sat at the kitchen table, both in deep conversations on their phones. It gave me a moment to observe my friends. Lanie still wore her sweats from the morning and an oversized Chapel Hill sweatshirt. Her short blonde hair was tucked behind her ears and she absent-mindedly picked at her cuticles. Stella on the other hand was dressed in designer jeans with a dark burgundy silk blouse. She looked as if she were ready to negotiate a deal anywhere on the planet. Her brown locks were styled in a trendy bob and her make-up was flawlessly applied. I smiled slightly to myself as I observed that she and Lanie had the same vice: Stella was also picking away at the paint on her manicured fingers. On the kitchen counter sat several sandwiches and snacks, none of which had been in the house earlier. Someone must have gone out, I thought.

“Hungry?” I whispered, motioning to the food.

“Your neighbors brought those by,” Lanie said as she got off the phone. My neighbors? How did they know? I hadn’t even heard the doorbell.

“News travels fast,” I said with disdain.

“So what did you find out?” Stella asked as she hung up her phone and wandered over to the counter to fix herself a plate.

“I still need a little more information. First, I will need to talk to Dr. Shippling and Dr. Matthews. Second …”—I turned and faced Stella—“can you do me a favor? Actually two?”

“Sure,” she replied.

“I need you to call Paul Wellon. He’s the lawyer Jay was dealing with about getting our affairs in order. I need to know if we had any paperwork that might have indicated Jay’s wishes. Then I need you to call Jay’s office and let them know about the accident. They will probably want his files or computer or something crazy.” I paused. I was already feeling drained and we hadn’t even gone back to the hospital. “You’re a lawyer. They are lawyers. It just makes sense.” Lanie nodded in agreement.

“No problem,” Stella said as I handed her the papers I had found and the numbers I had written down.

“Now, I’m ready to go back to the hospital.”

“No. First you eat and then you can go to the hospital,” Lanie instructed. I didn’t know how to tell her that I had no appetite and food was the last thing on my mind. But in order to expedite our departure, I quickly ate a turkey sandwich and washed it down with a bottle of water.

CHAPTER 4

W
hen we arrived at the hospital, Harry and Peter were leaving Jay’s room. Both men were visibly exhausted. I hadn’t seen Peter in almost a year and he had aged significantly since then. His hair was mostly white and now he leaned on a cane when he moved around.

“He loved you so much, Jill. After his mom died, you came into his life and gave it new meaning,” he whispered in my ear as we embraced. I didn’t know how to reply so I just nodded, trying to keep my tears in check.

“It’s such a tragic end for both of their legacies,” he mumbled, referring to Jay and his mother.

“Do you know what his wishes might have been?” I asked in a quiet voice. I was his wife but I had no idea.

“No. He never spoke to me about those things.”

He grabbed my shoulder and looked me right in the eye. “But you could do no wrong by him, Jill. He was crazy about you.”

Harry cleared his throat, suggesting they go grab a late lunch and try to rest. Neither wanted to return that day but said they would come back the next day unless something had been decided otherwise. It was as if an invisible weight had been placed on my shoulders. Their days—their grief—was now on my schedule, on when I decided that I was able to let go. I watched them shuffle down the hallway and I turned to Stella and Lanie. Both were again on the phone and motioned for me to go ahead into Jay’s room.

Nothing had changed from the night before. Jay was still lying in bed with multiple tubes running from various spots on his body. The soft hum of machines continued to be the only noise in the room. I took my seat next to his bed and reached for his hand.

“Hey Jay, it’s me,” I whispered. What should I say? There were things I thought I would have a lifetime to tell him. I sighed. Might as well start at the beginning.

“Remember the first night we met? You were in your last year of law school and Stella was in her first year of law school at Wake Forest. She had invited me along to a mixer off-campus that I really didn’t want to attend. I had told her no, but you know Stella. She doesn’t take the word
no
as a reasonable answer.” I chuckled to myself. To Stella the word
no
meant that she would nag you to death until she got her way. It was a character flaw, for sure, but it was also endearing at the same time. Both Jay and I knew it. We had discussed it endlessly and mostly in disbelief as we watched Stella get her way.