There’s a knock at my hotel door, and I go to answer it. Standing on the other side is a man that I would guess is in his sixties, fairly tall with a woman behind him. Both smile at me.
“Athena?”
“Yes?”
“I’m Andy Westin, and this is my wife, Dottie.”
Tears form, and I move to one side to let them in, but Dottie puts her arms around me and holds on tight. We stand like that in the doorway for what feels like an eternity. The makeup that I so carefully applied runs down my face.
“Andy, order some coffee.”
Dottie takes my hand and walks me over to the sofa and sits beside me.
“I hope you don’t mind us coming here. We just wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“I’m so sorry. It’s been a rough couple of weeks.”
“Oh, honey, it’s been a rough month.”
A month.
A fucking month, and he still hasn’t woken up.
Wiping my face, I stand. “I’ll be one minute.”
Rushing into the bathroom, I wash my face and remove the makeup. Taking a deep breath, I walk back into the living room area.
Dottie and Andy were talking but stop as I come back into the room.
“Are you okay?” asks Andy.
“Of course, she’s not, dear.”
Andy quirks an eyebrow at his wife, then looks back at me. “Is there anything we can do?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m so sorry about that.” I wave my hand in the air and shrug. “Maybe if he hears your voices, he’ll remember he has a job to do and wake up. Maybe today will be the day.”
Andy places his hands on my shoulders. “Maybe. He’s young, he’s healthy, you just have to have faith.”
***
Five weeks.
Five weeks of holding his hand, reading my books to him, and still Kris refuses to wake up. The doctors can’t explain it. They keep telling me, there’s no reason he won’t wake up, but still, he doesn’t. I’ve yelled, I’ve pleaded with him, but he’s still the same.
Dad had to go home. Mom moved into my hotel suite, and Mr. Livingston still won’t see his son, but he won’t go home either. He sits all day and some of the night in the waiting room, just staring. The longer Kris stays asleep, the more I can see Mr. Livingston fade away. The only person he talks to is my mom or the hospital staff. The press no longer follows us around, they’ve all but disappeared.
“Athena?”
I look up, and my mom is looking down at me. “Yes?”
“Come on, honey, time to eat.”
“I’m okay, you go ahead.”
“Athena,” she repeats forcefully.
“I’m fine. I’m not hungry.”
With her hands on her hips, she lashes out, “Athena Boswell, you do as you’re told. Now, get up and get your ass out of here now.”
“You just said ass.”
“Damn straight, I did. Move,” orders Mom.
I kiss Kris on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t go anywhere.”
Mom takes my hand and walks to the waiting room.
“Leonard, get up. We’re going for lunch.”
“I’m okay.”
“It wasn’t a suggestion, Leonard. Get up.”
Mr. Livingston stands, Mom holds out her hand, and he grasps it. Like lost children, we hang onto her as she guides us outside into the sunshine and takes us to a restaurant down by the waterfront. When we enter, the maître de welcomes us. “Hello. Name, please?”
“Boswell,” replies Mom, and I’m surprised that she has a reservation.
The table is in the sun overlooking the water. Mom positions herself between us at the table so that Mr. Livingston and I are facing each other. The older man looks at me, then out to the view, and I do the same. Seeing his pain reflected back at me is torturous.
Mom picks up a menu. “They say the seafood chowder here is very good.”
“Won’t be as good as TB’s,” says Mr. Livingston.
“Probably not, but I’m going to try it. Leonard, Athena, pick up a menu and order food. It’s on me.”
“You’re not paying for my food, Betty.”
“Do as you’re told, Leonard.”
“Betty—”
“Stop! I’m paying. You’re both eating even if I have to order you food and force-feed you. Since we’ve been here, you’ve both lost weight. Neither of you are sleeping well, and Athena, I won’t have you blaming yourself anymore for Kris’ accident. It was an accident.” Mom reaches out and puts her hand over mine. “And Leonard, I won’t have you blaming Athena anymore either. Your son loved her, and she loved him. Respect that.”
Leonard fidgets in his seat and looks at me. My brows come together, and I look at Mom.
“Loved?” I shake my head. “No, Mom, I love him as in he’s still here. I love him, Mom.”
Mom’s eyes well up with tears. “Oh, honey, I know you do. We all do. But honey, it’s been five weeks. He should have woken up by now. You both need to face the facts.” Mom puts her hand over Leonard’s. “You both need to stop this emotional rollercoaster you’re on. Kris wouldn’t want that.”
Mr. Livingston puts his hand to his face and nods as tears roll down his cheeks. My mouth goes dry as I let Mom’s words sink in. She thinks Kris is gone, but I know he’s not. I know he is still in there. He just needs to open his eyes.
“He’s not gone, Mom.”
“I know that, honey.”
As I stare into her eyes, I can tell she’s just trying to placate me, to ease me into a new way of thinking, but I won’t. I can’t think he’ll never wake up.
“Would you like to start with drinks?” asks a waitress who’s face pales when she takes in our distressed appearances. “I can come back…”
“No,” replies Mom. “Three brandy’s, straight up, and we’re all having the chowder to start.”
The waitress nods and walks away.
Taking in a deep breath, Mom says, “Order some food. Look at your menus.”
She pats both our hands and picks up her menu, staring at it intently. Mr. Livingston does as he’s told, but I sit there, staring at Mom trying to think of the right words to say to her. In the end, nothing comes, so I look down at the printed words. The waitress comes back with our drinks, and Mom holds her glass in the air.
“To Kris, may he wake up soon.”
“To Kris,” says Mr. Livingston.
I nod and take a sip of the brown liquid. It’s fruity with a hint of oak and burns as I swallow it. Mom downs the whole glass, and Mr. Livingston smiles at her and does the same. I take another sip and another until the glass is empty. My stomach feels warm, and it’s the closest I’ve come to feeling something other than sadness in weeks.
Mom puts her hand in the air and clicks her fingers. “Waitress!”
“Mom,” I cry, reaching for her hand.
“It’s fine, Athena. We could all use another one.”
The waitress comes over. “Yes?”
“Could we all please have another, and could you please keep them coming?”
“Of course, madam.” The waitress backs away.
I’m sitting there with my mouth open, staring at Mom. She shrugs and points to my menu. Like a child, I do as I’m told.
“Leonard, what are you ordering?”
“The steak?” he replies, unsure of himself.
“Perfect. I’m having the Caesar salad. Athena?”
“Mom, I’m not sure I can eat.”
“You’re eating something. Have the Caesar salad, too.”
I nod as I know she’ll just keep at me if I don’t order something. When the waitress comes back with our drinks, Mom gives her our main meal orders as well.
“Mom, why are we here?”
“Kris isn’t waking up, and you two can’t stop living. Maybe it’s time we all went back home?”
Rage surges through me, and I clench and unclench my hands as I feel my face infuse with heat. “What?”
“You could come back on the weekends. Leonard, it’s not good for you to just sit in that waiting room, and honey, you have a book to write, you have deadlines.”
“You want us to forget about Kris?” My blood pounds in my ears as I stare at her.
“No, honey. Never that. Look at Leonard.” My gaze flicks to the older man. “He’s dying right along with his son. He needs to get back home and get into a routine. Dad and I will bring him here every Friday and take him home on Sunday nights, but you both can’t stop living. We don’t know how long this is going to go on. Kris wouldn’t want that.”
Mr. Livingston looks pained and torn which means he wants to leave but feels guilty about leaving his son. I can’t, no, I won’t leave Kris.
“Mom, I’m not going anywhere. I can write in the hospital. Mr. Livingston, what do you want to do?”
The older man looks at my mom then back at me. “I’m staying, Betty. I know you mean well, but he’s my only son. I only just got him back. But you’re right, I can’t spend all day every day in that waiting room.” He puffs out his cheeks. “I’ll do better. I’ll sit with him and read to him like Athena does.”
“You know I read to him?”
He nods. “I do look in from time to time. I’m just having a hard time opening the damn door. Maybe you could help me with that?”
This is the most Mr. Livingston has spoken to me in five weeks. Mom smiles, perhaps this was her plan all along? The waitress puts three chowders down in front of each of us.
“Enjoy.” Slowly, she backs away from the table. I’m thinking we look crazy to her.
“I’ll make sure there are two chairs in there from now on. Sometimes the orderlies take them out.”
Mr. Livingston nods at me, and we smile at each other.
“Eat,” orders Mom.
It does taste good, but it’s nowhere near as good as TB’s. When we are done, I look at my mother. Like me, she has dark circles under her eyes and might be a little thinner. She catches me looking at her and smiles.
“Is the food okay?”
“Yeah, Mom. It’s good.”
***
Six weeks.
We take turns in the hospital now. Mom flew home and comes back on the weekends, sometimes TB or Ashlea come too. My new normal is to get up, eat breakfast with Mr. Livingston, and drive him to the hospital. Then, if it’s not my day to spend with him, I simply go up with his dad, kiss Kris, and go back to the hotel and try to write. If it’s my day to be with Kris, I still have breakfast with Mr. Livingston, but he stays at the hotel. Many of his friends from Boothbay have come to stay and keep him occupied. I was always a recluse, so I’m grateful for the alone time, even if I prefer to be alone with Kris.
Today is my day with Kris. I’m reading him book five in my series about a family, a group of brothers. This one is about Jamie MacKenny, he’s a farmer with a secret. I’ve gotten to know the staff at the hospital fairly well. Kris’ situation is unchanged except that they’ve moved him to a different floor in the hospital.
“Hey, Athena, what book are you reading him today?” asks Nurse Sue.
“Spark of Time, it’s book five.”
“Lord, you can read quickly! Takes me forever to read a book. How many have you read him now?”
I smile and shrug. “A few.” I ask this same question to whoever is on shift, and each time, I hope they’ll give me a different answer. “Any change?”
Sue shakes her head. “I’m afraid not.” She reaches out and touches my arm. “You have a good visit. The doctor will be along soon.”
Trudging into his room, I do what I always do and kiss his forehead. “Good morning, lover. You ready for book five?”
There’s a knock at his door and Gabby, his P.A., is there.
“Oh, look, Kris, it’s Gabby.”
Gabby frowns and walks into the room. “Hey, Athena.” She glances at Kris. “Could we talk?”
“Sure, pull up a seat.”
Gabby shakes her head. “If it’s all right, I’d like to talk downstairs in the cafeteria?”
I kiss Kris again and leave the book on a table that’s near the window. “Sure.”
Gabby rubs her arms the whole way down on the elevator ride, and when we get to the dining area, she sits without getting a drink or food.
“I’m going to get some tea, do you want anything?”
“Coffee.”
“Right, you LA people practically have it running through your veins.”
Gabby nods and gives me a tight smile. Going up to the counter, I get the drinks and make small talk with Lucy on the register, then head back to Gabby.
“No sugar, right?”
Gabby nods and takes a sip of the hot liquid, then wraps both her hands around it and stares at the cup.
Sitting opposite her, I take a sip of my peppermint tea and say, “You’re leaving.”
Gabby’s eyes meet mine, and she opens them wide in surprise. “How did you know?”
“You’ve been here, Gabby. You’ve shared stories about Kris with me. I think I know you a little bit.”
“It’s just if he doesn’t wake up.” Gabby runs a hand through her hair. “I mean, I feel like I’m taking advantage of him. The money keeps coming in, but I’m not doing anything to earn it. It doesn’t feel right.”
Reaching out, I touch her arm. “It’s okay. But don’t feel guilty. You’ve kept the press at bay. You’ve been there for me. I understand.”
Gabby bites her bottom lip. “It’s just… I’ve been made an offer from another actor, and as much as I love Kris, he might never wake up.”
Her words shock me to my core. I sit back in the seat and shake my head. “Don’t say that.”
Gabby hunches over her coffee and locks eyes with me. “It’s been six weeks, Athena. Surely, you’ve thought about that?”
“N-No.” Looking to the side, I shake my head. “Don’t talk like that.”
“The doctor said there’s been no improvement. I know Kris loved you. He asked me to make sure his home in LA was ready for you, he got me to get you your favorite teas and bath soaps, but Athena, he’s not waking up.”
Standing, I avoid her gaze. “Good luck in LA. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
I walk away from her and this godawful conversation that everyone wants to have with me. I’m the only one in the elevator, and a man yells for me to hold it. I do, and he gets in and smiles at me.
“Thanks.”
“Not a problem.”
“How’s Kris?”
Great, a fucking reporter. “No comment.”
“Pretty nasty accident he had. I heard the brakes failed?”
I glance at him—dark complexion, jeans, white shirt, and a long leather coat. “No comment.”
“I’m not a reporter.” He reaches across me and hits the stop button on the elevator, and an alarm begins to ring. “I’m Luis Rivera, Roberto was my brother.”
Terror grips me, and I drop my tea as I move away from this man. I’m up on my tiptoes in the far corner, unable to breathe. Roberto Luis was one of my attackers.
“You were supposed to be in the car. Did you really think you could come to New York, and we wouldn’t find out? Did you think we’d forgotten?” He puts a hand on either side of my head and moves into me, so his face is an inch from mine. I turn my head to the side trying to put distance between us. He laughs. “I want you to think about my brother and what you took from me and mine and know it was us who took him from you, and that we will never let you be happy. And we will never forget.”
He runs his tongue up the side of my face, he laughs again, and hits the button starting the elevator again. The doors open, and he steps out. “You have a good day, Athena, and I’ll be seeing you again soon.”
The doors shut, and I’m blinking rapidly, trying to catch my breath when the doors open again. I run for Kris’ room, but my movements are jerky and uncoordinated. Stumbling through the threshold, I find Kris still hooked up
to machines and begin to sob.
This is my fault.
Mr. Livingston was right.
It’s my fault.
Rushing to his bedside, I pick up his hand. “Please, wake up, Kris. Please. I need you. Baby, please wake up.”
There’s nothing, no eye movements, no hand squeeze, nothing. He’s motionless as the machines breathe for him. Pulling out my cell, I dial my mother.
“Hey, honey, is everything okay?”
“Mom,” I cry.
“Athena, is Kris okay?”
“He’s fine. Mom, I’m coming home.”
I hear her sharp intake of breath. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Mom, I’m sure.”
“Okay, honey, you need to do what’s best for you.”
I nod and realize she can’t see me, and I don’t know why I’m not telling her about the man in the elevator, but I can’t get myself to say the words.
“See you soon.”
“Okay, call me from the airport.”
***
Seven weeks.
Mr. Livingston came home with me. I didn’t tell anyone about the man. Todd has pushed for an explanation, but I can’t talk about it. The only thing I did was ask Gabby as her final act as Kris’ P.A. was to get her to hire a security team to guard Kris. She did, four people watch him in six-hour shifts.
My life went back to the way it was. I have dinner with my parents, I visit Mr. Livingston, and Todd takes me out occasionally. The only thing that’s changed is I now have locks on my door, and I see shadows everywhere.
And this incredible sense of loneliness has crept into my soul. Mom, Dad, TB, and Ashlea take turns on the weekends taking Mr. Livingston to see Kris, but I don’t go.
Powerful: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World) Page 18