Emily's Choice
Page 16
When he was sure Emily was out of earshot, he turned to Hope. “What’s her problem?”
“What are you? An idiot? She’s in close quarters with Jason. Dad’s being relentless in his pursuit to keep her in Mosquero, and I’m pretty sure he’s pushing hard for her to patch things up with Jason.”
“Seriously? Dad is doing this?”
“Yeah, it’s weird, I know. But Mom being here must have opened his flood gates of opinions. She told me they got into a huge argument before she came to get me at the airport. And apparently Jason heard some of it.”
“Oops.”
“Yeah. She was mortified.”
“Well, can’t say I disagree with Dad.”
“Me either.”
“Do you think we should get involved?”
“I’m not getting involved. You do what you want, but I’m staying out of it. I live with her, no way I’m taking a public stand. Nope!”
Tyler laughed. “Smart. I might join you and just sit back and watch the fireworks. There’s bound to be some more.”
“Yep.”
Thirty minutes later, Emily swung into the room. She threw a bottled water to her sister and a Mt. Dew to her brother. “Figured after your gossip session, you’d be parched.”
Tyler raised his eyebrow and Hope’s jaw dropped.
“Please, you think I don’t know? My ears were burning the whole way through lunch.”
“You give yourself way too much credit,” Tyler said. “You only took up about a minute of our conversation.”
“I bet,” Emily said and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “So, whose side are you on?” she asked, swinging her eyes from one to the other.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Hope said.
“Really?” Emily lifted an eyebrow and tapped her foot.
“We’re on the winner’s side.” Tyler laughed. “We’re total bandwagon groupies.”
“Funny.” Emily smirked.
“We just want you to be happy,” Hope said in a calm voice.
“Oh, I know,” Emily said sarcastically. “Everyone just wants me to be happy and somehow they think that involves moving back here and taking up with the cheating jerk.”
Hope sighed.
Emily waved her hand in the air. “Well, it doesn’t matter.”
“May the best man win!” Tyler shouted.
Emily laughed and shook her head. “You’re so weird,” she said, sitting down at the table. She pulled up her email and tried to block out Tyler and Hope’s conversation.
Their easy banter made it hard to concentrate and left her wanting to join the conversation. It wasn’t often that she felt left out, but today was one of those days. Between Jason sneaking up on her and her argument with her father, not to mention the conversation she was sure Tyler and Hope had had about her, she was feeling off. Left out. Out of the loop. However you wanted to phrase it, she didn’t feel right and it bothered her.
She normally would be fine, setting up her office and getting her work done. Ignoring the easy banter of her siblings. But today was impossible, and it was the worst possible day for it. She needed the escape and this project was not only due next week, but she and Phil still had so much to do. The client would be coming into the office on Wednesday at 2:00 p.m. and Phil would be presenting their designs.
From the beginning, Emily knew this project would be trouble. Maryanne Thompson was the client, and she was fairly well-known and hoity-toity in Boston. They were old money, and Maryanne was not shy about informing anyone who would listen about how her husband’s family had made a mint in the railroad business and miraculously kept it by diversifying their investments. They’d been smart, she’d often say. They hadn’t taken their newfound wealth for granted and because of that, look where they were.
She had a very narrow view of design, and Emily couldn’t fathom why she’d chosen their firm for her design needs. They were anything but old-fashioned, their tastes running toward modern and contemporary. The thick draperies and wallpaper of long ago held no desire for anyone in their firm, but it was what appealed to Maryanne Thompson, and by all that was holy, she’d have new everything—drab as can be.
Emily was determined to give Maryanne what she wanted, but modernized. Instead of wallpaper, Emily was experimenting with different paints and paint designs. As for the draperies, Emily couldn’t see any way around them. There was one window in the room, nothing spectacular. It seemed to Emily that it was added as an afterthought, with no real thought to the aesthetics. She was hoping Maryanne would be amenable to having a slight remodeling project to make the window bigger and grander. Opening up the room and letting in more light.
Which the room could definitely benefit from. And if she felt like being unkind, which when she had to speak with Maryanne was quite often, the room’s owner could benefit from more light as well. Brighten up that dark and drab personality.
Emily shook her head and pulled up her design plans. Phil would be presenting three designs, though he didn’t know it yet. There was his design, incorporating the pastels Maryanne despised. Emily’s first design, which basically is a mirror of what is currently there, just new. And her third design, with the bigger window, new paint, and no draperies.
She hoped Maryanne liked the designs they offered but was prepared for a negative reaction. She just hoped, if Maryanne did indeed hate the designs, she didn’t go spreading it around like wildfire. Especially with Kendra out of the country and unable to help with staving off the bad review.
Taking a deep breath, she tried one more time to dive into her work, but she just couldn’t concentrate. And when her father walked in a couple of minutes later, she knew it was over for good. She’d just have to work tonight, after Sadie and Hope went to bed and burn the midnight oil to get it done.
She closed her laptop and put it in her briefcase and then rolled up the design plans, putting an elastic around them and setting them on the chair next to her briefcase.
“Done working so soon?” Clint asked her.
“Not exactly, but I’m having a hard time getting into the groove. I’ll work tonight after Sadie’s in bed.” Emily stood and stretched. “Did you get your errands done?”
“Your hair looks nice, Dad,” Hope gushed. “Where’d you go?”
“Some quicky haircut place down the street. It was next to the drug store. Got my toiletries and some books. Counting it as a win.” He sighed and glanced toward the door. “Your mother’s not done yet?”
“Not that we’ve heard or seen,” Tyler answered.
Clint looked at his watch. “Guess it’s only been an hour and a half.” He sat down heavily on the chair and opened his book. “Maybe they’ll be done with her by the time I finish this book.”
No one knew what to say, so they sat in silence as Clint read, lost in their own thoughts.
Forty-five minutes later, the doctor came in. “Mr. Camancho?”
Clint shot to his feet, the book falling to the floor next to him. He bent down to pick it up, holding it nervously in his hands. “Yes?”
“I’ve reviewed all the results and I’m sorry to say that there is still no brain activity.”
“But how is that possible? She reacted to the song,” Clint asked.
“We think that was an involuntary movement,” Dr. Mosler explained. “The next step is discussing removal of the life-support systems and letting Mrs. Camancho go.”
“What?” shrieked Hope. “No, no, no. That’s not an option. She could still get better!” She turned to Clint. “Couldn’t she, Daddy?”
Tyler and Emily wrapped their arms around Hope, shushing her while the doctor continued to speak with Clint.
“I understand this is not what you were hoping to hear. It’s certainly not what I was hoping to convey to you this afternoon. Mrs. Camancho has sustained a large amount of trauma to her brain, and it is our opinion that she will not recover from it.”
“What about a second opinion?” Emily asked.
“Assuming we don’t obtain a second opinion, when would you recommend disconnecting my wife from life support?”
“That is completely up to you, Mr. Camancho. I know this is a difficult time, and I know that a decision of this nature is not made lightly. She is in no pain, so if you need a day or two, I’m happy to accommodate you.”
“Can we have a few minutes to discuss this?” Clint asked.
“Of course. Just have the nurses page me when you’re ready.”
Clint nodded and sat down on his chair. He dropped his head in his hands and took a shaky breath.
“Daddy! Please don’t. Please don’t make this decision without a second opinion. I mean, that doctor doesn’t even look old enough to be out of high school!” Hope pleaded. She was on her knees in front of him, hands wrapped around his forearms.
Emily and Tyler stood just behind her, eyes wide and hearts breaking.
“I want a second opinion, child. But I fear any doctor we speak to will tell us the same thing.”
“But she’s all I have left,” Hope keened.
Emily dropped to her knees beside Hope. “You have us, Hope.” Tears coursed down Hope’s face, and while she accepted her embrace, Emily knew Hope was lost in her grief. They’d been a family since Hope was seven years old, but Emily could understand Hope’s pain at losing her last biological parent.
“Hope?” a gruff voice asked from the entrance to the waiting room.
Hope raised her tear-stained face and glanced at the door. “Derek,” she cried, voice breaking. She continued kneeling on the floor, unable to gather the energy to greet her fiancé.
It didn’t matter. Derek dropped his briefcase on the closest chair and rushed to her side. He pulled her up into his arms. “Babe, what’s going on?”
Hope buried her face in his chest, the tears turning to sobs.
He turned worried eyes on Emily, who quickly and quietly told him what was going on.
“You’ll be getting second and third opinions, right?” he asked, holding Hope tight against his chest.
Emily glanced at her father, who slowly nodded his assent. His face was full of despair, heartbreaking to see.
Derek turned back to Emily, inclining his head toward Hope. “Has she been like this the entire time?” he mouthed the words so Hope couldn’t hear.
Emily shook her head. “Just since this news,” she mouthed back.
He nodded, and after kissing the top of Hope’s head, he pulled back to look into her eyes. “Babe, let’s get some air,” he suggested, leading her toward the door.
Once they were out of earshot, Clint glanced up. “I’m glad he’s here for her.”
Emily and Tyler nodded.
“She needs him,” Emily whispered.
“Especially if she thinks she’s all alone,” Tyler said sadly.
“She doesn’t. Not deep down. She’ll remember we’re family and that we’re here for her. She just needs some time,” Clint said.
They fell silent for a few minutes until Emily remembered Dr. Mosler was waiting for their answer.
“Dad, Dr. Mosler is waiting,” she reminded him.
Clint sighed, his entire body seemed to deflate.
“Dad,” Tyler said forcefully. “Let’s get those second opinions. I’ll go get the info from Dr. Mosler.”
Clint glanced up, noted Emily and Tyler’s hopeful faces, and said “Yes” on a sad sigh.
“I’m so sorry, Dad,” Emily said, laying a hand on his shoulder.
“Me, too,” Clint mumbled, voice cracking in pain. “Me, too.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The next couple of days flew by. Three doctors from across the country came to give their opinions on Grace’s condition. But every one of them said the same thing. “No brain activity.”
By Sunday evening, they had no choice but to accept the truth. Grace would not be coming back to them.
Emily tried to offer comfort to Hope as best she could, but Hope was inconsolable. She refused to eat, spent all her time with Grace, and exiled herself to the room she shared with Derek at the hotel when they weren’t at the hospital. Derek did his best to coax her to eat, but he didn’t have any better luck than Emily.
Clint was just as wrecked. He barely ate, and unless Sadie was in the room, he didn’t have anything to say.
Neither of them were capable of making decisions, too lost in their grief. Tyler wasn’t much help, either, not with Sophie so close to giving birth. He was splitting his time between the ranch and the hospital, the two-and-a-half-hour drive exhausting him.
That left Emily. She was the one signing paperwork, speaking with the insurance companies, preparing things for Mama G’s death, and organizing the funeral arrangements.
Sophie had opted to stay at the ranch to get things prepared for the funeral. She thought keeping the boys at home amidst all the devastating emotions was for the best, and Emily couldn’t blame her. If she had her choice, Sadie would be as far away as possible, too. As it was, Sadie was spending a lot of time with Jason—away from the hospital. And though she’d never admit it, having Jason at the hotel had been a blessing.
Oh, she’d been plenty pissed when he’d pulled up into the hotel parking lot behind her Friday night. And she’d had a good many words to say to that effect right there in the parking lot. Not that it had mattered. He’d sauntered right into the lobby and up to the registration desk, all while she glared death and destruction at him.
The creep had even reserved a room near theirs, on the same floor, and had grinned the whole way up the elevator. Meanwhile, she was seething and Sadie was happier than a pig in mud.
Nope, as the minutes passed, Emily was feeling the last of her support system wither away in favor of Jason.
Seriously, what was wrong with her? She shouldn’t be feeling this way. She was a grown woman for goodness’ sake. She’d been living on her own, raising her daughter, and succeeding at her job.
If she didn’t know herself better, she’d say she was jealous. But that couldn’t be right, could it? Jealous of Jason? Sadie was glued to him. Clint and Hope, and now even Tyler, seemed to be taking up his “Win Emily Back” cause. She hadn’t yet seen Gina, but she could well imagine what Gina would have to say. Hell, Gina had been saying it all along.
Emily shook her head. She really needed to get a grip on herself and this crazy situation. Just because everyone else jumped off a bridge, did that mean she had to do it, too?
No. And she was going to stand firm on that one fact. She didn’t have to jump off the bridge and she wouldn’t.
Dr. Mosler would be taking Grace off life support in the morning, and once she was cleared, the funeral home director would be arriving to transport Grace back to Mosquero.
She pushed thoughts of Jason and his cause out of her mind, instead focusing on the options in front of her for Grace’s funeral. Who knew there were so many? She closed her eyes and circled her finger around the page, letting it drop where it landed. On this page were the options for the coffins and Emily cringed at the one her finger had landed on. It was a dull pine, with no embellishments. It was obviously their lower end and Emily couldn’t picture Grace spending eternity in it. Sighing, she chose the maple casket. She liked the color of the wood and it was neither ostentatious nor dull.
The options for the service blew her mind. Traditional service in a funeral home or at the church; a memorial service; a viewing and then a funeral service; a graveside service. How was she to know which option Grace would have preferred? She sorely wished Hope or her father were in a better place to help her with this. Tyler was as clueless as she was. She tried asking his opinion and had been disappointed when he’d been no help, either.
“What’s the point?” he had asked.
“What do you mean?” Emily asked, frustrated.
“I mean, she’s dead.” He cr
ossed himself. “God rest her soul.”
“But we should still honor her.”
“Yes, but I have no opinion here.”
She could understand where Tyler was coming from, and there was a part of her that understood funerals were done for the living, not the dead. But decisions and plans had to be made.
She opted for a traditional service at the church followed by a graveside service, and they’d have a viewing the evening before. Then they’d have a traditional gathering at the ranch after the services. She asked Sophie to arrange for house cleaning, neither she nor Hope were familiar with the companies in town that would do it on such short notice.
She knew from experience that they wouldn’t have to worry about food as everyone who gathered would bring enough to feed an army. That, in itself, was a load off.
She’d stop at the liquor store on their way to Mosquero, and she’d also pick up a veggie tray and something sweet from the grocery store as well. That was more about her own pride than anything. She certainly didn’t want the first guests to show up to an empty kitchen. And she didn’t know about anyone else, but she was going to need a drink or two or three to get through the day.
When they arrived back at the hospital bright and early Monday morning, everyone looked as though they hadn’t slept in a week. Emily knew she herself didn’t look any different. She’d tried her best to fix the stress, devastation, and sleeplessness that showed on her face, but there was no help for it. She was heartbroken and there really was nothing that could be done for it.
Her father was already at the hospital when she arrived, and he was speaking with Dr. Mosler in the hallway. Emily walked into Mama G’s room and sat down on the bed. She took her hand in her own and kissed the paper-thin skin. She was going to miss her. Mama G had been her anchor when she’d had left home . . . in fact, she’d been her anchor since joining the family when Emily was eight.
Grace and Hope had been new to town. Grace had gotten a job as the third grade teacher, and Emily was thrilled to have a new friend in Hope. They quickly became inseparable and would spend many afternoons together. With Gina and Phoebe joining them often, the fast friends quickly became known as The Four and it stuck the entire way through high school. Emily wouldn’t be surprised if the folks in town still called them that.