by Kylie Parker
She gets additional information from me and has me fill out some paperwork before telling me she will be back in a few hours. The plan is for me to take Nick to the institution in the morning after he is checked out of the hospital. I tell my driver to go home and that I will just catch a cab back to LA once Nick is taken care of. The hospital staff lets me crash on the little couch in Nick’s hospital room for the night, and Nick and I wind up staying up late swapping stories about Eddie. He looks absolutely devastated to hear what happened to him. I am too.
The next morning, I woke up with a serious backache. Nick is asleep, so I decide to slip out and go to the hospitals cafeteria for breakfast. While there, I call Sylvia to update her on what is going on. She sounds concerned for me and for Nick, but I assure her everything is going to be fine. After talking to Sylvia, I catch myself calling Éclair too to let her know I’m going to be out of town for a couple of days. I have serious issues. Why do I feel the need to call them both?
I brush the confusing emotions aside and head back to Nick’s room after breakfast. My life is on a spiral. I’m just worried about what is going to happen next…
47
The rain is pouring down hard as I stand outside of the hospital waiting for my driver to return from the parking deck. The weather is fairly fitting with all of the craziness in my life right now. My brother Eddie is still in a comma back home, and I’m at some random hospital miles outside of LA dealing with his other half-brother, Nick. Nick was picked up just a few minutes ago and taken to a rehabilitation center that I am going to be paying for. I just had a conversation with a woman named Donna with child protective services about what to do next. She wants me to do whatever I can to get these court cases out from under me so that I can potentially pick Nick up from rehab once he gets out. I’m not sure how that’s going to go, and I am almost nauseous at the thought of bringing home a fifteen-year-old kid to look after. He’ll be in rehabilitation for a while, but it is still horrifying to think about.
I grip my umbrella tightly, feeling somewhat embarrassed by it. I bought it from the gift shop; it’s bright pink with stupid looking white and blue flowers all over it. It was the only that had been left. My driver pulls up to the curb and hops out to get the door for me, and I thank him and hurry into the back seat. As we are pulling out into the street, my driver laughs under his breath and says, “Cute umbrella, sir.” I roll my eyes. I’m not really in the mood for jokes. I tell my driver I want to take a detour before heading back to my home once we reach LA. “Are we visiting Éclair or Ms. Sylvia, sir?” he asks, and I contemplate bashing him in the back of the head for being a smart ass.
“Neither.” I say and then give him the address.
It’s a good drive, so I lean back and close my eyes for a little while. I have been sleeping on a couch at this hospital in the middle of nowhere for two days now. While I am quite eager to get home after all of that nonsense, I have something I want to do first. I think I must have fallen asleep because we are suddenly pulling up into this really shitty neighborhood just outside of LA. It’s one of those places that make you feel like you should only walk around if you’re armed and on high alert. Is this really the right address? I have my driver double check, and he assures me we’re in the right place. I tell him to circle around a couple of times; I just have this overwhelming feeling that he’ll get mugged if he keeps this nice looking car parked out in front of a house.
I exit out onto the sidewalk, thankful that it’s not raining here –although the sky is still a bit gloomy. I probably would get my ass kicked around here walking around with that stupid pink umbrella. The house I find myself standing in front of looks pretty run down. There are a few kids’ toys in the front yard which is nothing but dead grass and dirt. I walk up the small and incredibly cracked walkway to the front door and knock three times. The door flings open, and Bobby, my brother’s sixteen-year-old nephew, is standing in the doorway. I see that he has changed the stupid green stripe in his hair to blue now. He snorts slightly when he sees me, “What the hell are you doing here?” he asks.
“Is your mom here?” I ask, ignoring his question.
“She should be getting off work soon.” He says and there is this awkward silence between us before he says, “You want to come in?”
“I’d rather not stand out here,” I say, and he steps aside so that I can enter.
The house is full of noise of young children who had just gotten home from school. Bobby raises his voice as the five-year-old twin boys William and Jacob come running through the foyer chasing each other, “Get your asses back in the kitchen!” Bobby snaps, and the two boys scurry off.
I raise a brow at Bobby’s command. He walks after the two of them, and when I enter the kitchen I see that all of the other kids are seated around a small kitchen table helping one another with their homework. “I told you he would yell at you,” Tommy, the nine-year-old, chastises his younger brothers.
“Yeah, well, I know none of you are finished, so get to it.” Bobby hisses. “Eddie’s brother is here.” All of the kids smile at me, and I watch as Bobby goes around the island in the kitchen and proceeds to cup up tomatoes. He’s making dinner.
“Don’t you have homework too Bobby?” I ask, knowing that he’s back in school now.
“I’ll get it done later.” He says, “It’s easier to do my homework when they’re all in bed. Besides, Mom’s not working late, so that makes it easier.”
This kid pretty much runs the house. It makes me angry to see it. He probably had to round up all eight of his younger siblings when they got off the bus to get them into homework mode. And he’s making dinner too. It’s not like his mom, Kate –Eddie’s sister, can do it all by herself. I suppose I should have realized that someone was helping her. I just didn’t think it was her kid.
“What’s for dinner, Bobby?” Lana, the fourteen-year-old, asks.
“I already told you, hamburgers.” Bobby hisses, “Quit talking to me and finish your homework.”
“You know,” I say with a smile, “I make a pretty mean burger. Why don’t you help them with their homework and start on your own work too, and I’ll make dinner while I’m waiting on your mom to get here?”
Bobby gives me a reluctant glare, but I can tell he is exhausted and could use the help. He agrees, and I take over kitchen duty. I finish up the patties and head out to their back yard where there is a grill seated on a small slab of concrete. The grill is chained to the side of the house using a bicycle lock. Has someone tried stealing their grill before? I try not to think about it and get to work on the burgers.
Just as I am removing the last burger from the grill, I hear their doorbell. I head inside with the plate full of patties, and I spot some of the kid’s running back into the kitchen from the front door. I spot Max, another one of Eddie’s siblings, headed inside followed by Kate. “Hey J-j-Jamesss.” Max says with his usual stutter. I watch as Bobby starts signing towards Max, and I kind of smile at that. It makes sense. I can hardly understand a word that Max says, so I can imagine that Max has found other means of communicating.
Kate smiles when she sees me, but she finishes thanking Max for the ride home both vocally and through sign. Evidently, Kate’s car had broken down a few days ago and Max had been driving her to and from work. The next thing I know, I’m being invited to dinner and I get to see what a true madhouse this place is. Max stays for dinner too, which is good because I need to talk to him just as much as I do to Kate. Dinner is full of loud, unintelligible shouts from the kids as they each try to tell a story from school that day. I wind up sticking around to help Kate and Bobby get the kids ready for bed. By the time the house is settled, poor Bobby is passed out on the couch with his homework spread out all around him while Kate, Max, and I chat in the kitchen.
I had wanted to tell Kate and Max about their brother Nick in person. From the looks on both of their faces, I can tell that neither of them are too surprised about him overdosing. The thing that s
urprises them the most is that I am talking to family services about being Nick’s guardian. “Why would you do that?” Kate questions, “He’s not your family.”
“He’s Eddies.” I say as though that should be enough. I put my hands in my pockets and lean back against her kitchen sink. “I just wanted to make sure you both know.”
“I should call the others and tell them where Nick is.” Kate says, and I try not to think about how many more of these random half-siblings Eddie has wandering around that I still don’t know about. Kate gives me a peck on my cheek and thanks me for telling them.
Somewhat reluctantly, I head out –using my driver as an excuse to leave. He has been circling around the neighborhood for a couple of hours now. As I am headed out the door I spot Bobby passed out on the couch, and I shake my head. Surely there is something I can do to make this easier on all of them. I’m just not sure what.
48
I don’t really know how to describe what I’m feeling. I feel numb to say the least. My heart feels like it’s in my stomach, and I think I could throw up. After returning home, I had immediately gotten dressed and headed to the hospital where Eddie is still on life support only to be greeted by a less-than enthusiastic doctor who tried to convince me that Eddie can’t be saved. He thinks we need to pull the plug on Eddie.
I haven’t called Sylvia yet to tell her the news. I need a moment to let this sink in although having her by my side would surely make things easier. I haven’t called Éclair either; I know she would probably have some encouraging words to say. She always has had a way of putting things into perspective for me. Then there’s Eddie’s family. I don’t think I could bear watching Bobby break down again after that first time here at the hospital when he saw Eddie all beat up like this. I could kill whoever did this.
A few hours go by. I’m just sitting next to Eddie, talking. I’ve read God knows how many books to him since he was put on life support. It all seems kind of pointless now. I just want a chance to apologize to him for everything that was said between us. There is a lot I have to apologize for, and it is starting to look like I am never going to be given the chance. “Eddie,” I say, “I wish you would just wake up for a little while. I’m sorry, Eddie. I’m sorry. I just want to tell you I love you –I know I never really say that much, but I do. I know I’ve been an asshole, but I really am sorry.”
I can’t really look up at his face, so I’m staring at his hand. It’s so still and pale, much like the rest of him. Suddenly his hand moves, and he is fucking flicking me off. I jump in my seat, and I look up and see that Eddies’ eyes are squinted open. He can’t speak with the tube down his throat, but I can tell he can hear me. He’s looking dead at me. I sprint to the door and shout for a doctor or nurse and then run back to Eddie’s side. “Eddie, can you hear me, man?” I ask as though I don’t really believe what is happening before my eyes.
I see Eddie’s right hand moving and making weird gestures just as the doctor is darting in the room. The doctor looks just as surprised as I am. “Do you know sign?” the doctor asked.
“What?” I question.
“Your brother, he’s signing.” The doctor says.
“Um…” I am confused; I certainly did not know Eddie knew any sort of sign language.
“Mr. Mont,” the doctor says as he approaches Eddie’s bedside, “How are you feeling?” Eddie’s hand reaches up and touches his own face, and the doctor quickly pulls Eddie’s hand back down. “Give me one moment, sir, and we’ll get that tube out of your throat.” The doctor looks at me, “There is a nurse in the hall with short black hair, Miss. Kasey, she knows sign-”
I run out into the hall, and I spot the nurse that the doctor had been referring to and usher her into the room. The doctor is checking Eddie over, and Eddie is still weakly waving his right hand about. “What is he saying?” I ask.
“He can’t feel his legs,” the nurse says. “He also is signing that you shouldn’t read to anyone because you sound like a dumbass when you read.” She laughs slightly under her breath.
I smile, glad to know that even in this state Eddie is himself. I also am happy to know he knows that I have been reading to him –that I have been here. Suddenly Eddie’s hand plops down and his eyes close just as the doctor and nurse are removing the tube from his throat. The doctor checks him over. “His breathing is fairly normal,” the doctor says, “But,” he turns to look at me, “I’m not sure if that is going to last. He still needs to remain on life support.”
“This morning you were telling me he was as good as dead. What changed?” I ask.
“Are you a religious man, Mr. Mont?” the doctor asks. I shrug. The doctor shrugs right back, “Well, then I don’t have much more of an explanation for you. Don’t let this get your hopes up, but this is definitely a good sign… and a lesson for me not to write someone off so quickly.”
They run a few tests, and they let me stay in the room this time. Soon they depart, and I’m alone with Eddie again. He looks better, or at least I think he does and it’s not just my mind toying with me. There is color in his cheeks again, and there is something about not having that giant breathing tube down his neck that makes him seem more alive somehow.
I cannot bring myself to leave. I sit down beside him and talk. I talk about random things. I talk about our childhood and stupid shit we used to do together. I talk about meeting his sister Kate, his brothers Max and Nick and wondering out loud how many others are out there that I still don’t know about. It does not take a genius to figure out that Eddie had learned sign to make it easier to talk to Max, and I tell him that I’m proud of him. I tell him that I’m proud that he was working on providing a home for Nick and had learned sign for Max and had helped Kate get her son back in school. I tell him I’m sorry for always giving him such a hard time for helping them and never bothering to get to know any of them. It’s sad, really, that this is what it took for me to so much as learn their names.
I wind up staying the night in the hospital room.
49
“I mean, really! It took you that long to piece that together? You must be some damn good detective.” Lillian, my lawyer, is really laying into these cops. I’m really glad Éclair recommended her –and not just because I wound up having a threesome with her and her wife, but she is a kick ass lawyer.
I got called down to the station while I as at lunch with Sylvia, so she’s here by my side as well. I had immediately called Lillian; my last brush with the local police had not been particularly friendly. They had arrested me, suspecting me as the one who had assaulted Eddie. They had even had the audacity to say that I had hurt Eddie because Eddie had been the one to have poisoned my supplements –that was still an ongoing investigation in and of itself. They had called me down to the station to talk and fill me in on their most recent theory. They believe that whoever attacked Eddie was likely the same person who poisoned my supplements and that Eddie had likely caught the culprit or confronted him.
“I could have told you that,” I say, joining in on Lillian’s tirade.
Lillian crosses her arms as she stares down the two detectives. “My client has suffered public backlash thanks to your little accusation. His company has already suffered tremendous financial loss due to rumors circulated by the media. We are already battling a lawsuit –and although it can’t hold any water now that you geniuses have determined that it was sabotage and not the fault of my client, it is still causing his business tremendous trouble as you can imagine. I would really hate to have a counter-suit on hand here against your department for deprivation of character.”
The head officer nervously tugs at his shirt collar. “No, no, we wouldn’t want that. I assure you, all charges are being dropped and record of his arrest is being thrown out the window.”
“That certainly does not make that lovely mugshot the media got a hold of go away, now does it?” Lillian hisses. “Now, I believe Mr. Mont is willing to put all of this craziness behind him if you all can start do
ing yours jobs and find out who the hell is behind all of this mess!”
The officer sits down at the table across from me. I don’t care for being back in the interrogation room, but at least this time I’m not being accused of attempted murder. “That’s why we are all here, now isn’t it?” he says and turns on a tape recorder and opens up a notebook. “I’d like to speak with you about your company.” He waves at the younger officer and tells him to go get some coffee for everyone. “We have ruled you out as a suspect, James, so there is no reason to be worried.”
“That’s a load of shit.” Lillian says as she plops down in the empty seat beside me. “You and I both know that in the back of your head you are still hoping you can pin this on my client. So cut the whole nice cop routine, and let’s get down to business and try to find the real assailant, shall we?”
I wind up spending the next two hours talking to this stupid cop about my life. I talk about just about every person I know and lay out all of my dirty laundry –telling him about anyone who might possibly have a motive to do me wrong, and it’s just my luck that I have to have Sylvia sitting next to me listening to my life story unfold. It’s not like I’m going to kick her out of here after she has been so supportive, but we wind up talking about stuff I would have preferred her not to know. Like crazy ex-girlfriends, even crazier men whose girlfriends I’ve been with, business associates, company competitors, and even old employees. He asks me about stuff they found when running through my paperwork at Shattered Inc. as well as anything they found during my background checks. By the time the interview is over, I’m fairly confident that we are nowhere closer in discovering who hurt Eddie.