One Wrong Turn: A Novel

by Deanna Lynn Sletten

  Clay and Jilly walked around the house, inspecting it for spots to touch up. Maddie had been right. Even though the house had been freshly painted in the last two years, there were places that needed touching up. He noticed that some of the gingerbread trim looked faded and could use a new coat of paint too. He found the paint in the basement along with brushes, then got an old T-shirt from his room for Jilly to wear to protect her clothes.

  After brushing the shed down with a broom, he set Jilly to work painting it gray, and then he started working on the house trim. He watched as she made sweeping strokes with her wide brush, first one way and then the other. It made him smile, seeing her having so much fun. He figured he could paint a coat over Jilly’s work later.

  That afternoon when they visited Jess, Maddie sat beside her mother and told her all about their painting projects and how Jess didn’t have to worry about the house being ready.

  “I’m following the instructions from your notebook,” she told her mother. “Everything will be exactly as you wanted it. When you come home, you won’t have to do a thing.”

  Clay sat back and listened to his daughter talk, wondering if Jess could hear her. He hoped she could so she would know what a strong, independent girl she’d raised. He was proud of Maddie, despite her animosity toward him. She knew her own mind, and she was determined. He thought those were important traits for a girl. Hopefully, no one could ever sway her to do something she didn’t believe in. He wished he’d had those same traits through the years.

  Studying Jess, Clay searched for any sign that she could hear Maddie. Her bruises and cuts were healing, and she looked peaceful as she lay there. If it weren’t for the ventilator, she’d look fine. But there was no movement, not even a slight twitch of a finger or an eyelid. She was as still as a statue. That fact bothered him, causing him to ponder the thought he’d been trying so hard to hold at bay. What if she stayed like this for months? Or, God forbid, years? The doctor said she could still wake up, and Clay wanted so badly to believe that, but after almost two weeks, he wasn’t so sure.

  They stopped and ate a late dinner on the way home from the hospital, and by the time they arrived home, the girls were exhausted. Clay said good night as they headed up the stairs. He walked into the dark living room, found his guitar, and sat on the sofa, strumming it softly. It was times like this that dark thoughts plagued him. He wondered if he’d come back to Jess and the girls sooner, that maybe the accident wouldn’t have happened. Maybe Jess wouldn’t have been so stressed and would not have hurried, as it seemed she did that day. Maybe he would have been with her, driving, and they would have been safe. Maybe. Too many maybes.

  But thinking like that wasn’t going to bring Jess home. All it would do is put more stress on him, maybe even push him down that slippery slope toward drinking again. He stood and carried his guitar to his room, where he hoped playing music would calm him enough to sleep.

  2004–2005

  After Maddie was born, their life changed. They bought a cute little bungalow in an older, quiet neighborhood halfway between Redondo Beach and Hollywood. Clay’s commute to the studios was manageable, and Jess was close to her mother’s home so Karen could see her granddaughter often. As more artists requested Clay to play on their albums, his work schedule increased.

  He’d stopped booking his own band on weekends because he wanted to be home with Jess and Maddie. Since his schedule was so erratic—often a recording session could run on for twelve to fourteen hours—Jess had decided not to pursue a position as a pastry chef for now. She wasn’t ready to leave the baby with a sitter yet, and she wanted to enjoy time with little Maddie for a while. She knew that when she was ready, she would pursue her career.

  Their home, however, was still a spot where their many musician friends stopped by to hang out, jam, and have a few beers. Clay didn’t necessarily invite them over; they just gravitated to him and Jess, so there was always plenty of beer in the fridge and often-large deliveries of pizza if Jess didn’t have time to cook. Coop was there frequently, as well as other musicians Clay had met, both in the studios and on the road. Most of them were single, but they adored Jess and Maddie.

  Sometimes, Maddie fell asleep to their acoustic music as the men played and sang and picked out new tunes to songs they were writing. When she was awake, she’d laugh, squeal, and clap to their songs, keeping rhythm in her baby swing or walker. One or another of the guys would swing her in the air or hold her and dance with her, eliciting delighted giggles from her. Maddie had many “uncles” who adored her, and Jess often told Clay that she felt lucky to have so many good friends who felt like extended family.

  There was one rule that Jess did ask Clay to follow: no drinking when he was caring for Maddie alone. If she went shopping or out to lunch with a friend, and Clay was in charge of the baby, she wanted him to be alert and sober. For the most part, he followed the rule. But not always.

  “It was only a couple of beers,” he’d tell her. “We were just having fun.”

  “It wouldn’t be fun if something happened to Maddie,” Jess insisted.

  “Come on, hon. I’d never put Maddie in any danger. You know that,” he assured her. He didn’t understand why a beer or two would hurt. It wasn’t like he was his father, who’d been drunk every waking minute of the day.

  When their daughter was almost a year old, Jess found a weekend job with a restaurant as the assistant pastry chef. She told Clay how excited she was to finally use her schooling and create delicate, delicious desserts. He supported her desire to work, and he took care of Maddie those mornings and afternoons that Jess was at the restaurant. If he had to work too, Karen was always happy to spend time with her granddaughter.

  For several months, it seemed as if the arrangement was perfect. Those two days a week, Jess was at the restaurant by five in the morning and home by two thirty. Usually, Clay and Maddie would have just come home from the playground, or a few of the guys would be over, playing music while Maddie clapped along. Sometimes, Clay would have a beer or two, nothing over the top, and all was fine. But one afternoon he went too far.

  Jess came home one drizzly December day around three in the afternoon to Clay sleeping soundly on the sofa and Maddie screaming in her room. She hurried to check on the baby. Maddie was standing in her crib, her face red and tearstained as if she’d been crying for hours.

  “Clay! Wake up!” Jess shook him, but he just lay there, out cold. There were empty beer bottles all around him and even more in the recycling bin.

  When she finally woke him, he was groggy.

  “What? What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting up. His brain was foggy. “Are you home already?”

  Jess glared at him as she held Maddie in her arms. “Were you passed out? With our baby in the other room? How could you? You promised you wouldn’t drink when you were watching Maddie.”

  “What’s the problem? Maddie’s fine. She got up early, right after you left, so I fed and dressed her. Then she was sleepy, so I put her down for a nap. A couple of guys dropped by for a while. I just fell asleep on the sofa.”

  “No, you passed out on the sofa. Maddie was screaming when I came in. She’s been crying longer than a few minutes,” Jess told him.

  “I’m sorry, hon. I am. I didn’t hear her. I was tired. I promise, I only had a couple of beers,” Clay said, but he was lying. He’d had several. It had been a long week, and when the guys dropped by, he’d used it as an excuse to blow off steam. “I’m so sorry, Jess. I promise it won’t happen again.”

  Jess made sure it didn’t. She quit her job the next day and stayed home to watch Maddie herself. Clay tried to talk her out of quitting. He assured her he wouldn’t do it again. But Jess was angry and wouldn’t listen. He hated that she gave up her job because of him. He should have been more reliable. He knew that. What scared him the most, though, was that he’d chosen those beers over the safety of his little girl. He promised Jess he’d do better. He’d prove to her he was dependable and she
could go back to her job. At the time, he’d meant it.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Clay and the girls spent Sunday the same as they had Saturday, first working on the house, then driving into the city to see Jess. Maddie was quieter than the day before, only telling her mother that they were still working on the house and that it would be finished soon. Jilly barely said a word. Clay thought that they were all at a loss as to what to say anymore. Without any response or positive change in two weeks, it was getting harder to sound cheerful.

  Eileen stopped in and brought Emma and Jerrod along to cheer up the girls. Clay noticed that it helped. The older girls sat and chatted while Jerrod and Jilly opened her notebook and played a few games of hangman. Eileen fidgeted with the flowers, freshening them up. Clay had learned that she wasn’t one to sit still—ever. But he appreciated the reassuring presence she brought with her. She spoke with confidence that Jess would come out of her coma any day now, and it revived the girls’ faith.

  “How do you do it?” Clay asked her quietly, away from the kids.

  “Do what?” Eileen asked, looking confused.

  “Keep your spirits up after all this time. Continue to believe that all will be fine.”

  She looked at him seriously. “Because I can’t bear to think of the alternative. Can you?”

  “No,” Clay admitted. “I can’t, either.”

  Eileen suggested they all go out for dinner, and they ended up at a Chinese buffet. The kids were happy to be with their friends, and Clay had to admit it was refreshing to have someone else to talk to besides the girls.

  “You’re doing a good job with the girls,” she said over egg rolls and sweet-and-sour pork. “Maddie says that you’re all working on the house, finishing it up for Jess.”

  He nodded. “It was all Maddie’s idea.”

  “It was a good one,” she said with certainty. “And it keeps you busy. Jess will be pleasantly surprised when she wakes up.”

  Once they were home, Clay bid the girls good night.

  “Tomorrow’s another long day,” he said. “And we have swimming, right?”

  Jilly nodded.

  “But we could miss it and go see Mom,” she offered.

  “No, sweetie. I think your mom would want you to go to swimming practice. Right, Madds?” Clay said, looking at his older daughter.

  Maddie sighed. “Yes. Mom would want you to go.”

  “Okay,” Jilly said. “Dad?”

  “Yes, sweetie?”

  “Maybe some time when we visit Mom, you could bring your guitar and sing her that song she likes.”

  Clay smiled at Jilly. “That’s a good idea, hon. Maybe I will.”

  Monday morning after the girls had left for school, Clay’s phone rang. For an instant, he panicked, praying it wasn’t the hospital with more bad news. He was relieved when he saw the call was from Jeff.

  “Hi, Jeff. What’s up?”

  “Hey there, Clay. How’s Jess?” Jeff asked.

  Clay filled him in on the latest news, and his agent let out a long sigh.

  “I’m so sorry about the setback. I hope she pulls through soon.”

  “Thanks. So, what’s up with you?”

  “I hate bothering you, but I’m calling again about the job with Chris. His producer is getting anxious. Is there any way you can fly down here for a day or two? His team will pay for it.”

  Clay paced as he talked to Jeff. With everything going on, he hadn’t given any thought on this since Jeff’s last call. His agent had booked this a long time ago, and Clay was never one to miss a job. But how could he leave the girls and Jess, even for two days? The girls would be upset with him. And what if something happened to Jess while he was gone?

  “I’m not sure I can, Jeff. You know I would if I could, but we’re having a difficult time here,” he told him.

  “I know, and I’m sorry. But what I’m afraid of is that they will hit us with a breach of contract suit if you don’t show up. That’s how badly they want you. I’d hate for word to get out that you don’t honor your contracts. It’s a hell of a thing to have to say that to you right now, but there’s always the chance. Isn’t there a way you could bring the girls along too? You know they can sit in the studio while you’re there.”

  “I’ll think of something. When did they want me there?”

  “Would next Monday work? You could be in and out in a few hours.”

  Clay sighed. “Fine. Monday. Capitol Studios, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one. Thanks, Clay. After this one, we’ll hold off on any contracts until Jess is better, okay?”

  “That would be great. Thanks, Jeff.”

  He hung up and walked out onto the front porch. The day was cloudy and cool, and he could hear the ocean waves on the beach below. It was quiet and peaceful, but his mood was a mix of emotions. He wished he didn’t have to go to LA, even for a day. On the other hand, he did have obligations. Technically, he didn’t need the money. He made a good income and had enough for himself and for his family. But he loved playing music, and he’d worked so hard to get to the top of his game. He didn’t want to go away right now, but he had to meet his obligations.

  Getting in the car, he headed for the highway. He wasn’t sure if he should take the girls with him to LA or leave them with Eileen. He knew she wouldn’t mind, but he hated the thought of leaving them. What if Jess woke up while they were gone? Or got worse? That scared him most of all.

  As he drove, Clay passed several bars and liquor stores. He imagined how it would feel to stop at a bar and have a beer. He could almost feel the cool liquid slipping down his throat, easing away his tension. He knew his triggers, and stress was the worst of them. It would be so easy to give in to his thirst, but he forced himself to drive on. He couldn’t let himself stumble. Too many people were depending on him right now. But oh, what he’d give for a long drink of a cold beer.

  One day at a time. Today, maybe even one minute at a time.

  When he arrived at the hospital, he sat down next to Jess and studied her face. She looked pale and appeared thinner. He knew she was receiving nutrients through a feeding tube, but that hadn’t helped to keep weight on her. Jess was a slender woman to begin with, and the last two weeks she’d faded away even more.

  How would she look in one more week? Or two? Or ten? What if this went on forever?

  He hated watching his beautiful Jess fade away, day after day. There was so much more life for her to live. So much more for her to do. Years and years of Halloween costumes, birthday parties, and Christmas mornings with the girls. Maddie’s first boyfriend, Jilly’s prom, both girls going off to college. Jess baking and decorating the girls’ birthday cakes, and them all decorating for the holidays together. The thought of Jess missing any of it was unbearable for Clay.

  “You’re coming back to me; do you understand?” he insisted. “You have to come back to me and the girls. I’m here now—you’ve made your point. It’s time for you to wake up!”

  But Jess just lay there.

  He sat there all morning and into the early afternoon. Nurses came and went. A physical therapist gently worked Jess’s arms and legs to keep the muscles limber. Clay fell asleep for a while, sitting in the hard chair with his face propped up on his hand. He dreamt that Jess had woken up and asked him why he was there. He jolted awake, only to find her still lying motionless. Sighing, he rubbed his hand over his face and looked at his phone. It was almost time to go home to the girls.

  That’s when he saw a slight movement on the blanket. His full attention went to Jess’s left hand. It twitched.

  His heart jumped. “Jess! Jess, sweetie. Do it again. Move your hand. Please, do it again.”

  He watched intently, and then he saw her hand twitch again.

  “Nurse!” he yelled, running to the door. “Nurse! Come quick.”

  A tall, dark-haired nurse who worked most weekdays came hurrying into the room. “What’s happened?”

  “She moved her hand! Jess m
oved her hand!”

  The nurse went to the bed and made a quick check of Jess’s heart rate and breathing. “Everything looks normal. But I’ll call the doctor.” She left the room.

  Sitting down again, Clay stared at Jess. “Come on, sweetie. You can do it again. Please, move your hand. Just a little. That’s all I need in order to know you can hear me.”

  He watched for several minutes, but nothing happened.

  “Please,” he urged her. “Move for me. I love you so much, Jess. The girls love you and need you. Show me you can hear me. Just a little movement. Anything. Please.”

  But she didn’t move again.

  Dr. Bradbury came in a short time later. “I hear you’ve had some excitement in here,” he said, shaking Clay’s hand. “Has she moved again?”

  “No, she hasn’t. But she did earlier. Twice.”

  The doctor checked Jess’s vitals and looked at the machines. “Did anything happen before her hand twitched? Had you been holding it? Or had the heart machine beeped?”

  “No, I was getting ready to leave, and I saw her hand twitch.”

  “You hadn’t touched her in any way? A kiss? A rub on the hand? Anything?”

  “No. She moved all on her own.”

  “Had anyone been in here before that? A nurse, or the physical therapist?” Dr. Bradbury asked.

  “The physical therapist was in here earlier today. But it’s been a couple of hours,” Clay told him.

  Dr. Bradbury nodded. “That might be it. Sometimes, after a patient’s muscles have been worked and rubbed down, it isn’t unusual for there to be movement of a hand, arm, or leg. It’s just the nerves responding. Or a muscle spasm. I’m sorry if you thought it might mean more.”

  Clay’s heart sank. He’d so wanted it to be a sign that Jess was waking up. “I’m sorry I bothered you. I thought for sure it was a good sign.”