“It wasn’t any bother. We want to know if you see any sign of improvement. As a matter of fact, I was going to talk to you soon anyway,” Dr. Bradbury said. “In the next few days, we’re going to test whether your wife can breathe on her own. It’s a simple test, and if she doesn’t respond, we can restart the machine quickly. It won’t cause any damage. I feel that the sooner we can take her off the ventilator, the better.”
“Will you let me know when you’re going to try? I’d like to be here if it’s allowed.”
“I will. I don’t expect the first time to be a success, so don’t be disappointed. We’ll lower the assist of the ventilator and, if she is fine, keep her there a few days before we lower it some more. But at least it’s a step in the right direction.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Clay said, shaking his hand. When he left that afternoon, Clay felt like some progress was being made. Even though Jess hadn’t woken up yet, the fact that he saw her move a little made him feel more confident she was healing. And if she could start breathing on her own again, that would be even better. Of course, her waking up would be the best possible thing that could happen.
That night, after Jilly’s swimming practice, Clay told the girls he needed to talk to them. They went into the kitchen and got a snack. Then the girls sat at the island while he stood facing them.
“I didn’t want to get you too excited before swimming, but I can tell you now. Today, when I was at the hospital, I saw your mother’s hand move—twice.”
Maddie’s eyes grew wide while Jilly squealed.
“Mommy moved! Does that mean she’s okay and will wake up?” Jilly asked, her blue eyes shining.
He grinned. “She’s not awake yet, but it’s a good sign. The doctor said it was probably a muscle spasm or nerve reaction, but I think she moved because she heard me talking to her.”
Maddie’s face fell. “The doctor’s right. That’s all it was. I’ve read some stuff on coma patients, and they do move and twitch sometimes. People just want to believe they’re getting better.”
“Well, I’m going to believe that she moved on her own, not as a reflex,” he said, giving Jilly a reassuring smile.
“You can believe what you want, but it’s not true,” Maddie said.
Clay sighed. She was stretching his patience too thin. “Maddie, why do you always have to be so contrary? Can’t you believe for the sake of believing?”
“Yeah, why are you always so contery?” Jilly said, staring at her sister.
Maddie rolled her eyes. “It’s contrary, Baby Sister, and I’m just being rational.” She turned to Clay. “No, I don’t believe for belief’s sake. I only believe what I see. Otherwise, you can be very disappointed.”
Clay knew this was directed at him. He waited a beat, then let it go. He had more news for them.
“The other thing I need to tell you both is that I have to go to LA for a couple of days for work. They want me there next Monday, but I should be back here by Tuesday night.”
“If you come back,” Maddie murmured.
“I said I would, didn’t I?” Clay snapped back.
Maddie’s green eyes met his gray ones. “You said you’d come back before, and you didn’t. Why should I believe you this time?”
“Daddy? Are you coming back?” Jilly asked.
He turned his gaze on his younger daughter and saw the fear in her eyes. It broke his heart to see her doubt him too. He knew he couldn’t prove in only two weeks his sincerity about staying, but he wished Maddie would at least try to believe in him.
In that moment, he made his decision.
“Yes, sweetie. I’m coming back,” he said to Jilly. “And you can be sure of it because you and Maddie are coming with me.”
“What!” Maddie blurted out.
“Really?” Jilly squealed.
“Really,” he said, grinning.
Maddie stood up. “I’m not going with you. I’m staying here and working on the bedrooms. Someone needs to be here in case Mom wakes up.”
Clay held firm. “No, you’re going. There’s plenty of time to finish the bedrooms. We’re only going to be gone a couple of days.”
Maddie crossed her arms. “What about Mom?”
“I’m sure your mom will understand if she wakes up while we’re gone. I’ll let the nursing staff know how to contact us,” he told her.
Shooting him her best glare, Maddie stormed through the kitchen’s swinging door with as much dramatic flair as possible. Clay sighed. But when he turned toward his younger daughter, he couldn’t help but smile at her beaming face.
“Don’t worry, Dad. She’ll get over it,” Jilly said.
He laughed. Jilly was his saving grace.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
2005–2009
Time flew by for the little family. Clay’s career was booming, and he spent many days and nights at studios around LA, as well as on the road playing lead guitar for both up-and-coming and established artists. He felt guilty spending so much time away from home, but he knew that if he didn’t grab the opportunities that arose now, his career would suffer later. And Jess constantly assured him she understood. She knew how long he’d worked for this, and didn’t want him to stop because of her.
“This is your dream,” she told him many times through the years. “I knew that when I married you. I won’t be the one to make you give it up.”
He assured her that when things calmed down, she’d have her turn too.
“Maybe we could even afford for you to open your own pastry shop,” he told her. “Wouldn’t that be fun? You could be your own boss.”
Jess laughed. “Maybe. Once Maddie’s in school, it could be a possibility.”
Because he was gone a lot, Clay gave 100 percent of his time to Jess and Maddie when he was home. He loved going as a family to the beach and building sand castles with Maddie near the water’s edge. Other children would join in, and they’d create a grand castle with multiple towers and a deep moat with a bridge. They’d also go to the park in the afternoons so Maddie could swing. She loved being pushed up high and would squeal with delight while Jess warned Clay not to go too high. But he couldn’t disappoint Maddie, who had inherited his adventurous spirit and loved pushing limits.
When he wasn’t home, he missed his family deeply, but music was in his veins. He lived and breathed it, and the thrill of playing soothed his homesickness. It was at the studios and on the road where he’d let loose, drink a few too many, and fall dead asleep the minute his head hit the pillow. It was easy to do with a lot of time on his hands and a bus or studio full of musicians. He thought he was in complete control, though, because he never did drugs, and he slowed his drinking the moment he was home. What he didn’t realize was that drinking was as much in his blood as playing music, and becoming addicted was as easy as learning a new song.
When Maddie was three, she became possessive and clingy with Clay. She wanted Daddy by her side constantly and would cry incessantly when he got ready to go to work. At first, he thought it was cute how his daughter wanted only him, but after a while, he felt guilty whenever he left the house. Jess would call him later and assure him that Maddie had calmed down and was happily playing, but it still tugged at his heart. The guiltier he felt, the more he drank.
Jess didn’t seem to notice his excessive drinking, or at least never said anything to him. At home, he’d have a beer or two, but he forced himself not to overdo it. But often he’d come home from work still drunk or hungover, and he’d fall into bed to sleep it off. He managed to hide his drinking from Jess for over a year—or so he thought.
Until the night she had to go looking for him.
It was a chilly March night with heavy fog rolling in and dampness all around. Clay had been in the studio for forty-eight hours straight, napping occasionally on a cot and drinking beers in between with the guys. Everyone was in high spirits because they knew they were working on a special album. This artist would be a hit, they all said. And they were lucky t
o be on his album.
But the long hours and too much alcohol with not enough food caught up with Clay. He’d said good night to the crew and stumbled out to his car. He should have had a studio car drive him home, but in his sleepy, drunken haze, he thought he was fine. Before leaving, he’d texted Jess that he was on his way home. He avoided the freeways and took side roads home, driving through unfamiliar neighborhoods. Clay learned later that three hours after receiving his text, Jess went searching for him. It should have taken him less than an hour to drive home.
She called Coop and two other friends close enough that she dared to call at three in the morning to help her search. A neighbor watched Maddie while Jess drove up and down streets where he might be. She didn’t want to call the police yet—she knew he drank at the studios while playing and didn’t want a police officer to find him first.
An hour later, Coop called her and said he’d found Clay. She drove to the neighborhood where he’d been found, only a few blocks away from their house. There was his car with the front wheel on the curb, still running.
“He’s out of it,” Coop told her when she arrived.
Coop helped put her husband into her car and then reparked the car against the curb until they could come pick it up. He followed her home and carried Clay in and laid him on the bed.
The next morning, Clay woke up next to Jess, unsure how he’d gotten home. She rolled over in bed and looked at him sharply. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
When he stared at her, confused, she relayed the story from the night before.
He tried to remember how he’d ended up there. He recalled leaving for home, but the rest was a blank.
“I’m sorry I worried you, hon, but I was so exhausted, I must have fallen asleep.”
Shaking her head, Jess looked disappointed. “No, you were drunk. I could smell the beer on you, and we couldn’t wake you up. You’re lucky a cop didn’t find you that way.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but she interrupted him. “I know you drink at sessions and when you’re on the road, Clay. I’m not stupid. I’ve been around musicians long enough to know how they behave. But I expected you to be more responsible than that. You have a family. You aren’t twenty-one anymore. I expected you to have grown up by now.”
“I’m sorry, Jess. I really am. You’re right—I should know better. I promise I won’t do that anymore.”
“What, Clay? Drink? Or get caught?”
He frowned. “You’re acting like I get drunk all the time. I’m responsible. I usually only have one or two.”
She sighed and got out of bed. “You think I don’t know, but I do. I’ve seen you come home after work too many times looking three sheets to the wind, and it’s not from being tired. I haven’t said anything, because I know you’re under a lot of stress from working too much. But after last night, I can’t be quiet anymore. Maddie and I need you. Don’t you get that? I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
He nodded. “I get it.”
“No, I don’t think you do. We need you, and so will the new baby,” Jess said.
Clay’s mouth dropped open. “New baby?”
“Yes,” she said, giving him a small smile. “We’re having another baby.”
His eyes lit up, and he jumped out of bed despite his splitting headache. He pulled Jess into his arms and hugged her close. “That’s amazing. Another baby. I’m so happy.”
Jess pulled back and looked at him. “Are you?”
“Of course! You know I wanted more children.” He smiled wide. “Maybe a little sister for Maddie? Or a baby boy. Wouldn’t that be incredible?”
Jess’s smile grew bigger. “It is incredible. Now you can see why I need you, now more than ever, not to be careless. Please promise me you’ll limit your drinking so I don’t have to go through another night like last night.”
“I will. I promise you, I will. And I’ll cut back on playing on the road too. We’ll be fine with money from just the studio work. I don’t want to miss any more time with you and Maddie and the new baby,” he said.
Clay didn’t realize that by that point, it was beyond his control to keep his promises.
The rest of the week went by quickly with no change in Jess’s condition. It was disappointing to Clay that she didn’t move again. He’d thought it was a sign of her recovering, but now he admitted it was probably what the doctor had said—just a nerve or muscle twitch.
The doctor did try twice to take Jess off the ventilator, but both times were unsuccessful. He told Clay not to be discouraged, though. Whatever was causing her to need assistance with breathing might just take a little more time to heal. They’d continue testing to see if she’d be able to breathe on her own.
He hadn’t told the girls about the doctor’s tests. He didn’t want to give them one more thing to be disappointed about.
Maddie continued to insist that she didn’t want to go to LA, but Clay stood his ground. He told her that Eileen would check on Jess every day, and the hospital had his number if there were any changes. So, on Sunday morning, after one last fight, Maddie reluctantly packed a bag and got into the car. Jilly sat in the back seat, eager for the trip, while Maddie sulked in the front. But Clay was hopeful. Maddie had lived the first ten years of her life in the LA area. Maybe going back, even for just a couple of days, would trigger enough happy memories so she didn’t remember only the sad ones of him abandoning them. He hoped it might bring them closer.
It was a long six-and-a-half-hour drive with Maddie silent and Jilly full of questions. Clay was surprised that Jilly didn’t remember much about living in LA. She had been five years old when she moved north, yet she remembered little.
“I remember going to the beach,” Jilly offered. “And playing at a park where they had a lot of swings. I sort of remember my kindergarten school, but not really.”
“Maybe you’ll remember more when we drive around,” he offered.
It was early afternoon when they drove up a quiet street in Redondo Beach and parked in front of a two-story Spanish-style apartment building with a red clay-tiled roof and black wrought-iron rails on the balconies.
“Here we are,” Clay said, getting out of the car.
Maddie got out and stared at the building, her brow furrowed. “Where are we? This isn’t home.”
“This is where I live now,” he said. “I have a one-bedroom apartment, which isn’t much, but it’s nice, and we’re only a couple of blocks from the beach and the pier.”
“What about our house? Why don’t you live there?” Maddie asked.
He stared at her, confused. “I thought you knew. We sold the house to help pay for the expense of remodeling the home you’re in now.”
“I suppose that was your idea,” Maddie accused.
“It was a decision made by both your mother and me,” Clay said. He hadn’t known that Jess hadn’t told them about selling the house. “I’m sorry, honey. I would have said something if I’d thought you didn’t know.”
Jilly got out of the car and looked around.
“This looks nice, though,” she said.
Thank God for Jilly.
They walked inside the building and through a small lobby, then took the stairs up to the second floor. Clay stopped at a door with a gold plate reading 2C on it. He let the girls go in first before shutting the door behind him.
“Home sweet home,” he said jokingly, but Maddie wasn’t in a jovial mood.
“Not my home,” she mumbled.
He chose to ignore her. “I’ll change the sheets on the bed so you two can have the bedroom. I can sleep on the sofa.”
Maddie looked around with an expression of disdain. There was a good-sized living room–dining room combination and a kitchen in the corner with an island where three stools stood in front. The furniture was used but still nice, and against the living room wall, several guitars stood on stands. On the other side of the room was the door to the bedroom and the bathroom.
�
�That’s the sofa from our old house,” Maddie said. “And our dining room table. You took all the furniture.”
“Just some of it,” Clay said. “Your mom moved the rest of it to the house up north.”
Her lips formed a thin line. “Why do you live in such a small place? I thought you were some famous hotshot guitar player. Why didn’t you keep the house or get a bigger apartment?”
Clay studied his oldest daughter a moment. Maddie’s tone was gnawing at his nerves. Forcing himself to stay calm, he explained. “I do quite well as a musician, but there was no sense in my spending money on a second house or a big apartment when it was just me. The truth is, Madds, I wanted to live as inexpensively as possible so that most of what I earned went to your mother.”
She frowned. “What?”
“I’ve been sending money to your mom all this time. I guess you didn’t know that, either. That’s how she was able to afford to live there and renovate the house. Where did you think your mom got the money for groceries, clothes, school supplies, and basically everything else? All the money came from me.”
Maddie looked stunned. “I . . . I thought Grandma left her money when she died, or Great-Grandma did. Why would you send us money when you wouldn’t come and live with us?”
He drew closer. “Because I love you, Madds. And Jilly, and your mom. I wanted to help her turn her grandmother’s house into a B&B. She’s always been so supportive of my musical career that when she decided this was what she wanted to do, I backed her 100 percent. I know it seemed like I abandoned you, but I didn’t completely. I supported you financially, and your mom and I spoke occasionally. That doesn’t make up for me not being around. I understand that, but I never stopped caring for you, Madds. Or you, either, Jilly.”
An array of emotions played over Maddie’s face. Clay wished he could pull her to him and hug her close, but he was afraid she’d get angrier.
“Why didn’t Mom tell us that?” Maddie asked. “I thought she never heard from you.”
“I don’t know, Madds. Maybe she was afraid you’d be disappointed if you knew we kept in touch but that I didn’t talk to you. Your mom must have had her reasons, but you have to know that I helped in every way I could,” Clay said.
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