For All She Knows

by Beck, Jamie

  If Dirk wanted to use this situation against me, he probably could. I shivered, tempted to pull over. I’d have to pray that he didn’t want to be responsible for the day-to-day care of his son, which felt like an awful thing to pray for. Seemed I was more selfish than I realized. Maybe people who didn’t like me saw that trait.

  By the time I arrived at the Shock Trauma Center, I’d worked myself into a tizzy. After shutting off the engine, I sat in my car with a Tupperware of cookies on my lap and blew out a few breaths. Intruding on Grace’s family to hug my friend might actually make things worse.

  I wavered, then exited the car and went to the patient information desk to learn that Carter was in the neurotrauma critical care unit. Each step closer to his room came slower, each breath shakier. I turned the corner, coming to a stop outside Carter’s room.

  A male voice rang out through the cracked-open door. It wasn’t Sam’s. Nor Carter’s. Had to be the doctor. I waited in the hallway, straining to listen. When I peeked into the room, the unidentified man shifted position, revealing police blues instead of scrubs.

  The sight caused me to step back, my ears ringing.

  “I don’t understand.” Grace’s voice rose, loud enough for me to hear her for the first time. “You’re letting them all off?”

  I crept closer, my heart in my throat.

  “No, ma’am. Based on all the interviews and your own son’s statement, the boys didn’t intend to push your son down the stairs. Jostling him near the top of an open stairwell was reckless, so they’ll likely be charged with reckless endangerment, which is a misdemeanor. But there’s no felony.”

  “My son will suffer for months or years while those boys get off with a misdemeanor?” Each of her words snapped like dried branches underfoot. “No jail time—a fine or less if they have good lawyers. How is this fair? They all mistreated Carter for weeks. I’m not convinced they didn’t lure him there to continue what they’d already started. Carter’s too sweet to be jaded, but we’re the grown-ups. We know better—”

  “Grace,” Sam’s voice interrupted. “Let’s focus on Carter’s recovery and not worry about those other families.”

  Good ol’ Sam, such a solid, rational man. Of course, that attitude might not win him points with Grace. He needed help, and she needed reassurance.

  I pushed the door open, crashing into the officer.

  “Gosh, I’m so sorry,” I said, catching myself by grasping his solid arm. When I looked up, I recognized those big brown eyes. “Oh, it’s you.”

  “Mrs. Gillette,” Officer Martinez said. His gaze dropped to the cookies in my other hand, and then he smiled.

  I released his arm and turned to Grace, embracing her. “I’ve been thinking about you all nonstop.” Tears came—a mixture of sadness and relief at finally holding on to my friend. “Your mom updated me when I dropped off dinner and groceries. I’m so glad Carter can feel his feet. We’ve been praying all night for that news.”

  Grace didn’t hug me back. I’d shocked her, bursting in before she was finished talking to the cop. I eased away, aware of all eyes on me, then turned to Carter. The equipment and various IVs surrounding his thin frame drew a gasp. His expression—pained and exhausted—brought no ease.

  Somehow I managed to raise the Tupperware in my hand. “I brought your favorite cookies, fresh from the oven.”

  His forced smile made me teary.

  “Oh, honey. I don’t know what to say, and now these cookies seem so stupid.” My hands trembled when setting them on a table.

  “It’s okay,” he said, his voice reedy and weak. “Thanks.”

  Hospitals always reminded me of my parents’ car accident, when I’d sat in a waiting room with our neighbor, only to get the worst news. My entire world changed that day, exactly like Carter’s world was forever changed. It made me sick to realize that, like me, he’d always think of his life in terms of “pre” and “post”—and that Rowan and I would be at the center of that divide.

  “It was thoughtful, Mimi,” Sam said. “I’m sure he’ll enjoy them later.”

  The question on my mind—would Carter walk?—remained stuck in my throat. I searched Sam’s eyes for a clue, but he looked more exhausted than hopeful.

  My gaze darted from Sam to Officer Martinez to Grace. “Sorry I interrupted your conversation. Officer Martinez and I spent some time together last night going over what happened and booking Rowan for his offense. Rowan’s learning some hard lessons from his arrest, and I’m sure the others will, too.”

  A coldness wrapped around me in the silence that followed.

  “Officer Martinez, perhaps we’ll speak more with you later,” Grace said. “Thank you for coming today.”

  He tipped his head, hand to the brim of his hat. “Of course, ma’am. We’re at your service.”

  She made a disbelieving face, rude behavior so out of character it took my breath away. Officer Martinez wished Carter a speedy recovery and then left us, offering me another warm smile on his way out the door.

  I hesitated, then turned my gaze on my friend. “Sorry I didn’t call first, but you’ve been preoccupied and I had to come. I’m beyond devastated by all of this.”

  “Yet you seem relieved that no one involved will suffer any serious consequences.” Grace sounded oddly detached from her own voice as she averted her gaze.

  “Arrests are pretty serious, aren’t they?” I glanced at Sam, whose subtle headshake warned me to be quiet.

  “Why don’t we all step into the hall and let Carter rest.” Sam gestured toward the door, reminding us that Carter shouldn’t have to listen to this debate.

  Before leaving, I crossed to the bed and kissed Carter’s head. “If you need or want anything—anything at all—you call me, okay?”

  His gaze wandered to his parents before he gave a slight nod. “Thanks, Mrs. Gillette.”

  For the first time ever, he wasn’t sure how to treat me. I couldn’t blame him for mistrusting me after this terrible accident had happened in my house, but it hit me like a whack to the head.

  When we got into the hall, I went to clasp Grace’s hand, but her brittle expression—half-crazed, half-broken—warned me to back away.

  Still, I was sure I could get through to her. “Rowan got fingerprinted and charged. He has a hearing in a couple of weeks and will likely be fined and sentenced to community service. Trust me, he’s shaking in his shoes.”

  “No offense, but that’s basically a slap on the wrist. We both know most of those kids will be back to bullying and partying before the semester ends. But what of Carter?” Anguish twisted her features. “His consequences aren’t nearly as simple or temporary.”

  That punch landed hard. “It’s unfair.”

  “That’s an understatement.” Grace’s bitter tone sliced through the air.

  For the first time, I allowed for the idea that our friendship might not mend. That we might not bounce back from this tragedy, no matter how much time passed. That realization wrenched a slight moan from me. “Grace, please.”

  “What do you want me to say, Mimi?” She shrugged stiffly. “My son has permanent rods and screws in his spine. A lifetime of back pain and restricted spinal movement to look forward to. We still don’t know if the sensation in his feet means he’ll be able to control his legs. And what about school—the thing he loves? He’s got to keep up from a bed in a rehab center for weeks. Do you honestly think I should be satisfied with such weak charges for the damage caused? Those boys broke the law and hurt my son. And unlike everyone else, I’m not convinced it was purely accidental.” She scowled at me. A first ever, and it smarted like the scratch of cat claws.

  “Grace, honey, Mimi came here in friendship and concern.” Sam gave her a level look. “Let’s not attack her.”

  “Really, Sam? You’re taking her side on this?” Grace’s eyes flashed with betrayal as a flush rose up her neck.

  I’d thought the budget debate would be the only time Grace and I were ever on opposite s
ides of anything, but I’d thought wrong.

  “She has no control over the cops,” Sam replied with a shrug.

  “I know that, but that’s not my point.” Grace glowered before turning to me. “Mimi, intentions aside, you created this situation, didn’t you? All the parties you hosted made underage drinking okay. I know you weren’t there this time, but is it really a shock that Rowan and the others thought you wouldn’t be mad if they threw another party?”

  Like a fish on the riverbank, my mouth gaped as I swallowed her accusations and tried to reply. As if there were a good reply. She was right. I had created an expectation. And even though I’d thought I was making it safe, I hadn’t considered all possible outcomes. Pain tapped on my chest like an angry finger.

  Before I could confess and apologize, Grace burst into tears, spun on her heel, and trotted down the hallway and around the bend. I attempted to follow her, but Sam grasped my arm.

  “Let her go.” He released me. “She’s overwrought. I don’t think she’s slept three hours since Saturday night. Once we have a better idea of what’s happening with Carter and she gets some rest, I’m sure she’ll settle down. Maybe it’s best if you wait for her to come to you, though. I’d hate to see an ugly fight cause real damage to your friendship.”

  “Sam.” My voice cracked. “I’m so sorry. She’s not completely wrong. I’m sick that I had a hand in what’s happened. You know how much I love Carter.”

  “I know.” Sam squeezed my shoulder, tears in his eyes. “This is a rough time for us all. Let’s breathe and regroup. You’re not the only one who made mistakes. Grace knows that, and I’m sure that’s as much of what’s gnawing at her as anything. Go home, hug your son, and deal with what you must. If there are any major developments here, I’ll let you know.”

  “Thank you.” I hugged him so hard he probably couldn’t breathe. “And so you know, I’m organizing a meal chain so none of you have to worry about cooking or shopping for a while.”

  “That’s thoughtful, thanks.” He eased away.

  I nodded, sniffling. “Tell Carter I said goodbye.”

  “I will.” He waved me off.

  As I was walking away, I glanced over my shoulder in time to see Sam head in the opposite direction, searching for Grace. If she wouldn’t lean on me, at least she had him to help her. Without Grace, I was on my own.

  My best friend held me responsible for her son’s injuries. How would I ever earn her forgiveness? My eyes leaked tears like the broken faucet in my salon’s powder room. I cried so hard on the drive home the road might as well have been a river. A meal train would not be near enough of an effort to show my remorse. Someday, someway I had to atone. I had no choice, because living in Potomac Point without her friendship would be like mourning another death.

  CHAPTER TEN

  GRACE

  Friday afternoon, January 15

  Rehab facility near Baltimore

  “Who are you texting?” I asked Carter while unfolding his I USE THIS PERIODICALLY throw blanket emblazoned with the periodic table that I’d brought from his bedroom. He flexed his feet beneath the covers. He’d been doing that often, as if to prove to himself that he would eventually control his legs again. Although he’d regained sensation and some ability to voluntarily move them, the muscle weakness pointed to potentially permanent nerve damage. No one could promise that he would walk without assistance in the future, although everyone acted as though it was possible.

  “Dad.” He didn’t look up from his phone.

  To avoid burdening my kids with my worries, I wore a pleasant mask whenever either brought Sam up. Despite our spending the past several days being polite to one another in front of Carter, the gap between my husband and me was widening. At the hotel, we’d fallen into the habit of turning away from each other in bed. I’d stared at the wall each night to avoid the nightmares of seeing Carter at the bottom of Mimi’s basement steps. My husband’s embrace might’ve chased them away if I’d welcomed it. Instead, the empty space between us in bed only increased my growing sense of isolation.

  My son’s private room had a large window with a view of the city. A cascade of sunshine made the room less dismal, although it still smelled of disinfectant laced with sorrow. Tomorrow I’d bring a fir-scented diffuser and a few more things from his room to make his temporary home feel less institutional.

  Bland surroundings aside, the compassionate staff helped put me at ease. “I like Leron. Do you?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Carter set his phone down and used the remote to adjust his bed, then whimpered when shifting into place. His ribs and spine were still so tender. His long, lean frame looked nearly skeletal in the bed. Between his lack of appetite because of the drugs and the unappetizing hospital food, he’d probably lost three pounds this week. Another thing to worry about.

  “Oh, honey, let me help.” I reshuffled his pillows, but he held up an arm.

  “Mom, you heard them. I need to do as much for myself as I can.” Carter grunted while repositioning himself again, using his arms to help adjust his legs even as pain carved its way across his face.

  “Sorry.” I hugged my waist to keep myself in check, although watching him struggle with something so simple made me want to shriek.

  “Have you figured out how to coordinate with the school?” His eyes seemed too big for his face today, or maybe I was losing my mind. “I don’t want to repeat tenth grade.”

  “You won’t have to repeat, honey. I’ll be meeting with the principal, your counselor, and the teachers soon. Everyone is preparing materials for you and your tutor here so you can keep up. You’ll get extensions on everything you missed this week, too. But your most important job now is to focus on your recovery so you can come home sooner than later.” Whenever the little voice in my head whispered that “possible” full recovery didn’t mean “probable,” I shuddered. Projecting positivity remained my number one goal.

  He rested his head against the pillow, closing his eyes. Carter kept a tight rein on his emotions, so his sense of his prospects remained a mystery.

  I made myself busy by straightening his laptop and checking the charger, folding his robe and setting it on the table by his bed, and moving his slippers to within his reach. “What else can I bring you? How about your Bluetooth speaker?”

  Could he tell I was procrastinating?

  He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Carter.” I stared at him, absorbing his malaise like a sponge. “Little creature comforts could help you keep a positive attitude, which will be important with the tough road ahead.”

  When tears trickled from the corners of his eyes, I breathed through the tightness in my chest, sat on the bed, and stroked his head. Rather than being comforted, he cried harder, which increased my own pain. I squeezed his hands because I couldn’t grab him into a hug without stressing his rib cage and spine.

  “Oh, sweetheart, go ahead and cry. What’s happened is overwhelming, but this is a top-notch facility, and you’re getting the very best care.” There had to be more I could offer my son than trite words.

  He moaned, “I already sucked at sports, but now this. What if I always need a cane or walker? What girl will ever like me then?”

  Worrying about girls might have sounded trivial to me, but to a fifteen-year-old boy who wanted nothing so much as to be accepted, it must feel like the end of the world. My insides splintered like cracked glass from the endless ways this injury could affect his future. My hatred of what had happened was beginning to bleed into other aspects of my life, too.

  “Carter, trust me. There are girls out there who will take one look at this face of yours and be impressed with your smarts and drive, and they will love you no matter how fast you can walk. Teenage girls aren’t always mature enough to appreciate what really matters. But I promise you, high school isn’t forever and adults fall in love with all kinds of people regardless of their abilities, looks, or any other thing that seems so important at your age. Besides,
everyone here is encouraged by the early signs of your recovery, honey. They keep saying that incomplete T12 injuries can have very good outcomes, so let’s focus on the success stories. Treat these coming weeks of physical work like you would a chem lab. Push yourself with Leron. If you give it everything, I’ve no doubt you’ll regain most if not all of your leg strength.”

  He eased away and wiped his face, so I handed him a tissue to blow his nose. While he did that, I drew a deep breath to loosen my chest.

  An idea came to mind. “Let’s plan something to look forward to . . . maybe that summer college for high school students program at Purdue that you wanted to attend?”

  The suggestion sparked no enthusiasm. “I don’t want to commit to anything unless I know I’ll be walking.”

  “Please don’t lose faith, honey.” We sat in silence for a moment. “What if I look into some options so we can pull the trigger when you feel ready?”

  He shrugged.

  Sam was the better cheerleader, so I turned to my strength: comfort. “I hate to leave when you’re glum. Want me to stay and order Thai takeout and play poker?”

  Sam would accuse me of lingering to avoid seeing him. Maybe he wouldn’t be completely wrong, either. Lately I hardly understood why I was doing or saying many things. The number of concerned emails from neighbors and friends that needed a response had reached triple digits.

  “It’s fine.” Carter wiped his eyes before blowing out a quick breath. “I’m tired and just want to watch Cursed on Netflix tonight.”

  “Okay.” I stood, knowing I should spend time with Kim, who’d been refusing to cooperate with my mom at bedtime or eat the meals my friends had delivered. “If you think of anything you’d like me to bring tomorrow, text me, okay?”

  “Reese’s.” He wore a hopeful half smile, knowing we didn’t have any peanut products in the house because of Kim.

  “Okay. Reese’s it is.” I leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead. “If you get lonely, call me. You know how to reach the nurses, right?”