by Wendy Wax
“Is he breathing?” Kyra whispered, afraid of the answer.
“Yes,” the medic said as he unzipped the front of the wet suit Dustin wore under his clothes and she breathed a full breath for the first time. “But his pulse is erratic.” His hands moved gently over Dustin’s head. “There’s a huge bump back here. He must have hit his head on the boat or a rock on the bottom.”
A siren sounded in the distance, drew nearer. Kyra watched Dustin’s chest for each movement, each completed breath.
Dustin’s eyelids fluttered open, but his eyes were foggy, confused. “Mommy?” His voice was little more than a croak. “Mommy!”
A word she’d been afraid she’d never hear him speak again. Tears of relief blurred her own eyes as he began to cry. She grasped his cold wet hand between hers. “You’re all right,” she crooned, a prayer and a promise. “You hit your head, but you’re going to be fine.” She held on to his hand as the paramedics moved him carefully onto a stretcher and carried him to the ambulance for the ride to the hospital. “We’ll call en route to make sure they’re ready for him.”
Daniel wanted to ride in the ambulance with Kyra, but she ignored him. Tonja touched her arm. “We’ll meet you at the hospital. He’ll have the best possible care. I’m . . . sorry I wasn’t there to . . .”
“You were there when it mattered. Thank you,” Kyra said. It was the best she could do. Brandon Holloway stepped up and handed her a towel, which she couldn’t quite remember what to do with. So she carried it in her free hand, refusing to let go of Dustin’s hand even when his stretcher was loaded into the ambulance.
At the hospital, she refused to release his hand until they took him for a CT scan.
“The doctor will come to speak to you as soon as he has the results,” the young nurse said, nodding her toward a waiting room.
Daniel and Tonja were already there. Kyra took a seat. Not even wanting to look at them, she stared down at her hands twisting nervously in her lap.
“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine,” Daniel finally said.
The sound of his voice was all it took to turn her fear and panic into fury.
“He better be,” she said looking up. “Only it’ll be no thanks to you. You changed that scene without even bothering to think it through then pushed everybody to go along.” She took a shuddering breath. “And then you made no attempt to save him.”
Neither Tonja nor Daniel spoke, and it was a good thing because it was entirely possible that even a single word from either of them might snap the very last thread of her self-control.
“You like to play the father, but being a father isn’t extravagant gifts and puppies on Christmas Eve. It’s being there when it matters. And being willing to put your own life on the line when your child is in danger, for God’s sake.”
She was more than ready for a fight. She was spoiling for one. But Tonja put a hand on Daniel’s arm and neither of them spoke. They wore almost identical looks of relief when the doctor entered.
He was gray haired and middle aged and got right to the point. “Fortunately, the scans show no bleeding or signs of cranial damage. He’s got a mild concussion, but should be fine with three or four days’ rest. I would like to keep him overnight for observation. You can wait for him in his room. He’ll be taken there in just a few minutes.”
All three of them sagged with relief. But it was Daniel who pumped the doctor’s hand and thanked him profusely. As if he’d been the one to dive in after their son then carry him in his arms through three feet of snow to the hospital. He was extremely convincing in his role as a concerned yet relieved parent, a performance she might have fallen for if she hadn’t witnessed his complete lack of parental action at the lake.
“Thank God he’s okay,” Daniel said when the doctor left.
“Okay?” she said in disbelief. “He has a concussion and is lucky to be alive. And you never even got in the water or told them to stop rolling.”
“I’m sorry. I . . . I just couldn’t seem to think. I couldn’t move.” His apology might have been sincere; it was hard to know. “But, luckily, Tonja came in like the cavalry and he’s going to be fine.”
“Right. We’re lucky she was there. She does a first-rate job of stepping in and taking care of things, doesn’t she? But then I guess she’s had a lot of experience at it.”
Unable to look at either of them for another moment, she turned and made her way to Dustin’s hospital room, where she took his small hand in hers again and held it through the night, dozing in the chair she’d pulled up close to the bed.
She stirred, her body stiff, as early morning light bled through the window blinds. A new nurse came in as the shift changed. The sounds of activity grew louder.
Dustin’s eyelids fluttered open. She saw the sheen of tears. “Wanna go home now. All the way home. To Geema’s.”
“That’s exactly what we’re doing,” she promised. “As soon as the doctor says you can leave, we’re out of here.” And if she knew anything about her mother, she’d already be there when they arrived even though when she’d reached her the night before they’d only just landed in Phoenix.
“How come my head hurts?” Dustin looked confused and seemed to have no memory of what had happened.
“You have a headache, because you hit your head while you were swimming.”
“Don’t memember.”
“I know. But the doctor thinks the headache will go away soon.” He’d also said that while she should keep an eye out for a rather alarming list of possible symptoms, he’d felt fairly certain that the concussion had been mild and that with rest Dustin’s recovery would be rapid.
“And then we’ll be able to leave.”
* * *
• • •
There was a soft knock on the door. When she looked up Tonja walked in with a bouquet of brightly colored balloons, which she carried over and tied to the railing on Dustin’s bed. “Hey,” she said softly. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m almost better,” he said.
“That’s good. You were very brave yesterday,” Tonja said. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”
“Where’s my Dandiel?”
Even the mention of his father made Kyra’s blood boil in her veins.
“He went by the cottage to feed Max and take him out and tell him where you were,” Tonja said. “He’ll come here as soon as he’s done.”
“Oh.” Dustin yawned and looked up at the balloons. “That’s good.”
Tonja smiled and unwrapped one of the strings and handed a balloon to Dustin. “Would it be all right if your mommy came out in the hall to talk with me for a minute? She’s going to stand right in the doorway where you can see her.”
He nodded gravely.
Kyra followed Tonja out of the room, positioning herself where she and Dustin could see each other. Though she now knew that line of sight only went so far.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there earlier yesterday,” Tonja said. “I came as soon as Brandon texted me about the altercation over the water element, but it was almost too late.”
She wanted to yell at someone, wanted to make someone pay for what had happened, but she had been there and allowed it to happen. “I hate that I agreed to the scene change. That’s the last time I ignore my gut when it comes to my child. If you hadn’t been there and gone in the way you did . . .” Tears blurred Kyra’s view of the perfect face across from her. “Thank you. Thank you for saving him.”
“I once let a doctor tell me my child should be released from the hospital when I could clearly see something was very wrong.” Tonja’s voice was tight. “We have to look out for our own. That’s what mothers do. I’m glad I got there in time.”
“His own father didn’t go in after him. He just stood there watching.” Again anger bubbled hot and furious.
Tonja sighed. “He means well. But
like everyone else he’s got his weaknesses. I’ve pushed him too hard, too far. He’s a great actor, but I’m not sure he’s cut out to be a director. He can’t take the pressure. It paralyzes him.”
“You can’t protect him forever,” Kyra said. “His inaction was not your doing. And neither is his behavior.”
“No, but I love him.” Her smile was rueful. “And it’s a hard habit to break.”
They were still standing in the doorway when Daniel arrived. “How is he?”
“Better,” Tonja said. “I spoke to Brandon earlier. We’re pushing call times back a couple hours this morning.”
Kyra looked at the two of them. Shook her head. “I still can’t believe you not only didn’t help rescue Dustin but you never even stopped rolling,” she said to Daniel.
“I wasn’t trying to film it,” he said defensively. “Everything happened so quickly and I just forgot to yell ‘cut.’ But it’s the strangest thing. The footage is incredible.” He brightened. “Tonja carrying him out of the water like she did? We can tweak the end and shoot a few more scenes and . . .”
“You’ve looked at the dailies,” Kyra said. It wasn’t a question. “Your son almost died yesterday and you took the time to look at rushes last night.”
“I had to,” Daniel said quickly. “We’re behind schedule and we’ve got to finish. But we can shoot around him for the next few days until he recovers completely. Then we can pick up the shots and scenes we need with him.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I said no.”
“But we need him. We can’t finish without him. I promise you the last scenes won’t be taxing,” Daniel protested.
“And you promised he’d be safe, but then the shot you wanted was more important,” Kyra said. “I’m not falling for that again. I doubt I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for letting it happen. But I know for a fact that I’ll never forgive you for putting your film and your career before our son. If it hadn’t been for Tonja, he could be dead right now. You put him at risk and then you stood there and did nothing.”
“But the doctors say he’ll be good as new in a few days.” Daniel’s voice was chiding. As if she were overreacting.
“No,” she said. “End of conversation. As soon as the doctor releases him we’re going home.”
“But you signed a contract. You’re legally obligated.” He said this as if presenting incontrovertible proof that no rational person would argue with.
“Wow. You are really a piece of work.” She looked at Tonja, who had been suspiciously quiet. Although she looked slightly uncomfortable, she did not counter her husband’s argument. So much for the motherhood sisterhood.
“I guess you’re going to have to sue me,” she said to Daniel with a cheerful smile that surprised all three of them. “A suit like that could take years to work its way through the courts. Which would put you waaaay behind schedule and allow your fans to let you know how they feel about a man who plays heroes, but risks his own child to get a shot.”
The smile slipped from her lips and she took a step closer. “If you make any attempt to force Dustin to appear in so much as another frame of this film, I will move heaven and earth to let the world see exactly who you are.
“Your wife’s a smart woman. I’m sure she can figure out how to finish this monstrosity of a film without my child. Even if you can’t.” She began to head back to Dustin but stopped mid-exit. “I am beyond grateful to you for saving Dustin’s life,” she said to Tonja. “I’ll never forget it. And I promise you’ll never have to think of me as a threat of any kind, because I don’t intend to be in a room alone with your husband ever again.”
She looked into Daniel’s handsome face for what she wished could be the last time, and saw only the ugly, self-serving ego-driven coward who dwelled behind it.
“You can have five minutes with Dustin,” she said. “Five minutes to tell him how great a kid he is, how well he did in the film, and that he’s free to go home now. And then we’re done here.”
* * *
• • •
Nikki had clearly started hallucinating. Everywhere she went she imagined she saw Luvie. Yesterday at the playground she’d seen an older woman watching from a distant bench. The day before that at the Paradise Grille where she’d taken the girls for breakfast, someone who resembled her had walked by on the beach.
This morning in Publix while she was loading up on cleaning products, which she needed desperately, and food, which she’d run out of days ago, while somehow keeping Gemma and Sofia in separate grocery carts, she’d once again felt eyes on her. But when she looked up all she’d seen was an overweight red-haired woman at the far end of the aisle wearing multiple layers of support hose and a floral muumuu that she couldn’t imagine Luvie even being caught dead in.
It took three trips to transport the girls and all the grocery bags from the car to the cottage. After the last trip, she dropped onto the couch with a groan then forced herself to look around. At some point she’d given up on pretty much anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary. Dirty clothes still spilled out onto the hall floor. Dirty dishes teetered in the kitchen sink. Toys littered the floor. The cottage resembled a crash site with possessions strewn everywhere and no survivors.
She’d need every minute of the next twenty-four hours before Joe was due back to get it clean. Or at least less like a house of horrors.
“All right, you two.” She set the girls on their bottoms in front of the television set, pawed through the stack of DVDs for their favorite Wiggles video, Here Comes the Big Red Car, stuck it in, and hit “play.” Because that was apparently the kind of mother she was.
“Okay,” she warned herself once the girls were occupied. “Don’t look at it all. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Just pick a couple of things to get started on.” This sounded eminently practical and marginally less overwhelming, so she went into the bedroom hall and sorted the mounds of dirty laundry then ripped the sheets off the bed and both girls’ cribs. With a flourish of detergent and determination, she started the first load.
At the sink, she rinsed all the dishes and glasses she could fit in the dishwasher, which was nowhere near all of them; she’d switched to paper plates and plastic cups a week ago. Then she put away the groceries that needed to be refrigerated, poured sippy cups of juice for the girls, and wiped down the counter and the dinette table—or at least the parts that weren’t still covered with the mail and newspapers she hadn’t yet found the time or strength to sort through. In the middle of cleaning the toilets she started to run out of steam. The washing machine and dishwasher were still whirring away, so there was no point thinking about how many loads were left to do. She briefly considered having something to eat now that there was food in the refrigerator, but chewing seemed far too strenuous. In fact, she was too tired to even choose another task.
Sofia and Gemma had conked out on the rug, curled in two identical balls. With a yawn she went to the front door and made sure it was locked then staggered back to her bedroom. Leaving the door open so that she could hear the girls if they needed her, she fell facefirst on the unmade bed for a short and, hopefully, restorative nap.
* * *
• • •
“Nikki? Nikki!” A hand grasped her shoulder. Shook her. “Nikki! Are you all right?”
The hand was large. The voice was Joe’s. She assumed she must be dreaming. But when she attempted to burrow back down into that warm, lovely place where she’d been pulled back from, the hand didn’t disappear and the shaking didn’t stop.
Half awake, she rolled over and sat straight up in bed.
Only this time the hallucination leaning over the bed was too solid to ignore. The person staring down at her was Joe. As she watched in confusion, the expression on his face began to change from one of fear to what could only be called fury. “What the hell is going on here?”
Her thoughts were thick and slow as if her head was stuffed with cotton wool. Her arm shot out for her phone. She brought the screen close to her face. It was four P.M. “But . . . what . . . I don’t . . .” She winced. “Oh, my God! Is it tomorrow already?”
He stared down at her. “I was able to get home a day early.” He took her phone with its screen of unseen texts. “I’ve been calling and texting all day. When you didn’t answer and then the house looked like it had been tossed and the girls were passed out on the floor I . . .” He swallowed. “My heart almost stopped. I was afraid of what I was going to find in here.”
He lowered himself onto the side of the bed with a rough exhale.
Sofia and Gemma toddled into the room, their hair sticking up, their cheeks still red from what she was beginning to remember as their nap on the living room rug. When they spotted Joe, they shrieked with joy. Joe pulled them up onto the bed and they climbed all over him, kissing his face, fighting for a spot in his lap.
She tried to marshal her thoughts, but she was still trying to grasp what had happened. She’d lost the whole day she’d meant to use erasing all evidence of Luvie’s absence and her own ineptitude. A whole day in which she’d assumed she would come up with a plausible explanation and a plan for moving forward. Something she’d been far too exhausted being a single mother to even think about.
When the girls were settled, he drew a deep breath and set his shoulders before turning his laser beam brown eyes on her once again. “So, now that you appear to be awake, I need you to tell me what is going on here, how our home got destroyed, and why you look like someone who was just released from a POW camp. I’d also like to know what’s happened to Luvie.”
The toddler chorus smiled beatific smiles and singsonged, “Luffee!”
“Welllll . . .” It took pretty much everything she had to meet his eyes. She was staring into them when she saw the preternatural calm he used when hunting criminals settle over him. That calm was far more daunting and potentially dangerous than his initial panic-fueled fury.