Edward didn’t come out and say it, but because he’s a celebrity of sorts and because of his politics, he lived his life under a microscope and held himself and his family to a higher standard than the average person—which was admirable under ordinary circumstances, but not these.
Noelle’s situation was personal and critical. Considering anything other than what’s in Noelle’s best interest was unfair to her, him, and Jeff. Unfortunately, Skye suspected Noelle would support her husband in this, even at the cost of her freedom and health. And that was just wrong.
It was wrong to hamstring themselves because of popular opinion. Wrong not to trust voters to make the distinction between ESCs and CBSCs. Wrong to give public voice any consideration at all in a critical, private, life-and-death matter.
Obviously Edward wasn’t thinking clearly in rejecting Mark’s CBSCs. Eileen should grow them, and Noelle needed to use them—at least give it a try. And Skye could help. Her article could open the doors for Noelle by giving the Hastings the support and approval they apparently needed from the American people, yet hadn’t even thought to request.
Edward instinctively isolated his family from media exposure to protect them, yet it had the reverse effect. Skye sat up and stared across the room. Was she justifying this to give herself the courage to break her agreement with Edward and write this article, or was she right?
Skye flashed back to the elevator and Jeff hurling into her full force, knocking her off her feet into Mark. In the seconds before the door had glided closed, over Jeff’s heaving shoulder, she’d glimpsed the desperation and confusion on Edward’s face.
As she’d held the boy’s trembling body within the circle of her arms, she’d felt Jeff’s fright and confusion, felt the heat of his loathing, the burning of his tears on her arms. She’d witnessed weeks of Mark’s inconsolable fear and impotence, and her heart had contracted painfully in her chest, pulling away from the searing pain of Noelle’s tears, more than once.
Skye wasn’t deluding herself. This family was suffering tremendously—far more than was necessary because of Edward’s devotion to his morals and career. She’d promised Edward that her visits to the hospital and the family’s inner core would be as a friend, but she’d lied.
Skye simply couldn’t dissect and discard the reporter in her anymore than Edward could the politician in him. She needed to help her friends the best way she knew how. No matter the cost.
* * *
Depressed, Edward wandered back to Noelle’s room as dinner was being delivered. He ate and chatted to his wife while the nurse’s aid fed her and fiddled with her machines. Luckily, Noelle had slept through their son’s breakdown, so he didn’t have to deal with her worry over that. He tried to be upbeat, but it proved to be one of the toughest things he’d ever attempted.
After Jeff left, he and Ben had worked on damage control. Edward personally appealed to the hospital staff, security people, and anyone on the floor who might have witnessed the scene, to keep what they’d seen to themselves.
The press would pay handsomely for dramatic news like his and Jeff’s quarrel, but he tried to appeal to their compassionate natures. And he hoped to God no one had filmed it on their phones. The last thing Jeff needed to see was that popping up on the internet. It’d destroy the boy.
Most people seemed sympathetic—almost pitying. Their pity he could take, as long as they kept quiet.
Edward’s glance wandered the cards lining the windowsill, settling on the one from the Christopher Reeve Foundation. He and Noelle never had the opportunity to meet the actor or his wife before they died, but he’d had great respect for Reeve’s determination and achievements and for his wife’s dedication.
Edward, as the spouse of a spinal cord injury patient, appreciated Dana Reeve’s strength and composure. It seemed she’d made all the right moves and said all the right things. He wasn’t coping with half her grace. He was scared to death. Dana must have been scared, too. She must have had her weak moments.
And Reeve himself had been an amazing man. An inspiration. Christopher Reeve had been in the prime of his life, in great physical condition at the time of his accident, yet complications from the disability had killed him. Even with the best of care and resources, he’d only lived nine years past his accident. Nine very productive years, Edward allowed, but nine years wasn’t enough. Noelle would just be fifty—barely old enough to see her AARP card.
When Shelly arrived to put Noelle through her nightly routine, Edward took the opportunity to run home and talk to Jeff. On the way home he tried to decide how best to get through to the boy. What should he say? What could he say? It’s a parent’s job to protect his kid.
Children needed stability, safety, consistency, and love. They had to be able to trust that the adult in charge knew what they’re doing and would take care of them. Edward pursed his lips and shook his head. He didn’t know a damned thing anymore. He didn’t even know how to start. The twelve-minute trip home wasn’t nearly long enough.
Edward drove past his street and stopped at the light in front of the Henry Ford Cottage hospital. A couple of teenagers holding hands crossed in front of him. He did a double take and frowned. Decked out in boots, mittens, and gloves, the kids slowly strolled across the street licking ice cream cones. Jeff loved ice cream.
When the light changed, he pulled forward and slid into a parking spot in front of Rite Aid. Edward hurried to the back of the drugstore and stood before the glass doors. He reached in, grabbed a half-gallon of Dryers strawberry ice cream and headed toward the counter to pay, then stopped and frowned. Pivoting, he looked back at the freezer.
Or was that Noelle who loved strawberry? Maybe fudge brownie was Jeff’s favorite. He slowly returned to the ice cream. Mint chocolate chip? Edward frowned. Or did he like drumsticks better?
Oh for God’s sake! He grabbed one of each and headed for the counter. Climbing in the car he executed a quick U-turn and headed home. Mark looked up from the newspaper he was reading, his eyes widening as Edward unpacked the ice cream.
“Ice cream orgy. Yessss.” Mark smiled.
“Had trouble making up my mind,” he mumbled as he shrugged out of his coat and threw it over a nearby chair. “Where’s Jeff?”
“In his room with Joseph.”
Great. With his grandfather, undoubtedly doing Edward’s job. “Did he eat?”
Mark stood and put on his coat. “Had some spaghetti. I tried to talk to him on the way home, but he pretty much shut me down.” Mark held his gloves in his hand, paused and looked at him. “I don’t know exactly what went down, but he’s just a confused kid. He didn’t mean what he said. He feels bad about it.”
Edward looked at his best friend. Yes, he did. It’d been loud and ugly, but honest. They’d both meant what they’d said. “Thanks for staying.”
“Yeah, of course.” Mark pushed his hands in his gloves. He shifted awkwardly. “If you want to talk, we could go out for a beer sometime…”
Mark was not the person he needed to talk to, but he appreciated the offer. He nodded and inclined his head toward the ice cream. “Want some dessert?”
“Naw, I’m gonna take off.” Mark headed out the back door, waving off Edward’s thanks.
Edward got out two big bowls. After a brief hesitation, he loaded both bowls with small scoops of each flavor and topped Jeff’s off with the drumstick. Ice cream and spoons in hand, he headed for the stairs.
Joseph reached the bottom of the stairs. He looked at the dessert, then at Edward. “I hope one of those is for me.”
“Sure.” Edward handed his over to his father-in-law. “Jeff okay?”
“He’s pretty done in, but he’s fine.” He motioned to the kitchen. “Let’s eat in here.”
“I’m just going to take this up to him and have a little talk.”
“Now’s probably not a good time. Why don’t you wait ’til morning?”
Because I'm here now and I want to talk to my son. Edward shifted his weig
ht. He hated explaining himself to his father-in-law. “Look, we had a fight at the hospital, and I—”
“I know. Jeff told me.”
Of course he did. “Well great, but now I’m going to speak with my son.”
Joseph put a hand on his arm. “Now’s not the time—”
Edward spun around and scowled at Joseph. “Look, just so were on the same page, Joseph, I know I’m not handling this well—but I am trying. I’ve not been around to raise my son as much as you were with Noelle, and I’m aware that my career is stressing us all, but Jeff is still my son, and I’ll decide what’s best for him.”
Edward plunged on, needing to get this off his chest. “I know he feels guilty about the accident, but he cannot help Noelle recover. He needs to go to school and get on with his life. Noelle will probably never be able to do the things she did for him—with him—before, and he’ll have to adjust to that. The sooner he accepts this, the better off he’ll be.”
“I agree.”
“You do?” Edward narrowed his eyes. Joseph never agreed with him.
“I explained this to him.”
“You did?”
“These circumstances are very difficult for everybody—especially you. Jeff needs to accept that you have a demanding career and even though he might resent the amount of time you spend at work instead of with him, you’re still his father, and he needs to listen to and respect you.”
Edward stood there, stunned.
“Edward, you might not be the perfect father, but I know you’re doing your best.” Joseph paused. “Now that Noelle’s hurt, Jeff needs to grow up. He needs to step up to the plate and help the family by doing what’s asked of him. That’s the best way to help his mother.”
Joseph frowned.
“I think he was a bit stunned at the comin’-to-Jesus talk we had. I don’t think anything you say tonight will sink in. He’ll hear it better in the morning.”
On the contrary, Joseph had unwittingly given Edward the opportunity to be the good cop for once. This was the perfect time for Edward to mend fences with his son.
“I… Thank you.” Edward swallowed a lump and then cleared his throat. “I won’t keep him long, I just wanted to be sure he’s all right and say goodnight. And Joseph? Thanks for all your help. I know this isn’t easy for you, either, seeing your daughter so badly hurt. And even though you’re retired, I realize you have a life, and we really appreciate your help with Jeff.”
“You’re welcome. Nothing would have kept me away. By the way,” he nodded at the melted ice cream. “He doesn’t deserve that. Not tonight.”
“I know.” And thanks to Joseph, so did Jeff, but he was going to get it anyway.
Edward climbed the stairs and knocked on Jeff’s door briefly before walking in the room. Jeff sat on his bed. With headphones covering his ears, he stared straight ahead. He glanced at Edward but didn’t seem surprised to see him.
Edward stood by the bed and handed Jeff the ice cream.
Jeff took off the headphones and frowned at the bowl. “What’s that?”
“Ice cream.”
“Why?”
Edward raised his eyebrows. “An apology.”
Jeff glared at the melted bowl and looked away. Edward placed the ice cream on the nightstand and sat on the bed next to Jeff.
Jeff scooted over so their legs didn’t touch.
“Look…” He took a deep breath, then pushed it out. “We’re all under a lot of stress. Mom’s condition is serious, and there’re so many options, and the stakes are high, and there’s no clear right or wrong, and we’re constantly being thrown something new.
“I feel like we’re targets at a shooting range. Like we’re trying to cross a room filled wall-to-wall with ball bearings without falling down while someone’s shooting at us.” He looked at Jeff, sure his rambling didn’t mean anything to the kid.
Jeff stared at the headphones in his lap. One hand fiddled with the cord.
“But I’m the adult, and you’re the kid. It’s up to me, not you, to figure this out. I’m not doing a very good job of it, and you’re getting caught in the fall out.” He looked into his son’s eyes. “And I’m sorry.”
Jeff frowned and blinked hard. “Me, too.”
Wow, he’d been expecting surliness or an argument, not Jeff’s quiet acquiescence. “I’ll do better. I think we can both do better, don’t you?”
Jeff slowly bobbed his head.
“I know you’re really struggling, but you know I love you, right?”
Jeff avoided his gaze.
“I know it might not seem like it sometimes, but I do. You’re my son, and I love you. I might not always like the things you do, but I always love you. There’s nothing more important to me than you and your mom.” He smiled. “The three of us, we’re a team. We all have roles to play, but we’ll get through this together. Your job is to not get behind in your schooling. Mom’s is to do what she can to get better. And mine… mine is to watch over and facilitate you and Mom while I work to make money to pay the bills. Once we can settle into a routine, things will get easier, but until then, we’re really going need your cooperation.” He dipped his head to look at Jeff. “Understand?”
Jeff nodded.
“Mom’s being transferred to rehab tomorrow, and I’ll be spending nights at home with you, so that should make things better.”
Jeff looked him in the eyes for the first time since he’d entered the room. “Does Grandpa have to go?”
Edward pushed aside the hurt. Even after Joseph had chewed him out, his son still wanted him with them. “He can stay as long as he likes. Besides, I’m sure he’s a better cook than I am.”
“Not hard.”
True. Hot dogs, canned soup, and sandwiches about covered the extent of his culinary skills.
“Thanks.” Edward grinned and stood. “Well, you’d better get to bed.” At the door he turned back. “Goodnight. Love you.”
Jeff climbed under the covers and turned out the light. “’Night.”
Edward closed the door. “Love you, too, Dad,” he mumbled, trying not to be hurt that his son hadn’t said that he loved him. Walking past the guest room, he noticed the strip of light beneath the door, relieved Joseph had retired for the evening. He was talked out.
Edward pushed his sleeve back and looked at his watch. Shelly should be nearly finished with Noelle. He clumped down the stairs and paused outside their bedroom door, before heading back to the hospital. One last night in the hospital.
He quickly parked and walked the all-too-familiar route to Noelle’s room. Though he longed for the privacy of his and Noelle’s bedroom, he wondered how he’d feel about it tomorrow night, without Noelle. Tomorrow night would be the first time he’d slept in their bed since the accident. Edward meandered down the hall deep in thought, until the harsh shriek of a ventilator alarm pierced his musings.
He picked up his pace yet wasn’t overly concerned because he’d passed the empty nurses desk and assumed that they were already with Noelle. When the alarm didn’t silence, he sprinted the last ten feet to her door.
The security guard dashed by. “Getting a nurse.”
Chapter 25
The blaring alarm assaulted Edward’s ears in waves as he rushed to her bedside. Noelle’s eyes rolled back in her head, then closed, and her face went slack. Oh, God, how long had she been without oxygen? He searched the box, looking for the source of the disrupted connection.
This had happened once before, but a nurse had come running immediately to reconnect the wires. Nothing. Edward looked at Noelle’s neck and saw the tube dangling next to her neck. He gently pushed and twisted the tube back into place, and the alarm instantly quieted.
“Noelle? Baby?”
The silence seemed deafening, even over the humming of the pumping ventilator. Though her chest rose and fell with the machine, Noelle remained unconscious.
“I need help in here!” Edward ran to the hallway and nearly collided with Shelly and
another nurse. The security guard on their heels did a quick about-face and headed back to his post.
Shelly ran to the bedside and slapped Noelle’s face. “Noelle? Noelle?” She reached for her neck to take her pulse, sparing him a glance. “What happened?”
Edward stood by the door, out of their way. Despite the pumping machine, Noelle’s face was still pale and her eyes closed. “Pop off. I don’t know how long. When I came back the machine was wailing. I reconnected it, but...”
Shelly flipped her stethoscope over her head and spoke over her shoulder, “Call a code.”
The other nurse bolted from the room. Seconds later, a chilling, controlled voice called over loudspeaker, “Code blue 619. Code blue 619.”
Edward backed away from the bed as doctors and nurses flooded the room. A nurse escorted him into the hallway. At least six people and a huge red metal crash cart swarmed Noelle’s bed. Edward held his breath and stared through the doorway.
Minutes later, people trickled out of her room. The highest-ranking doctor in attendance turned to Edward. “Senator Hastings, your wife’s fine. She just fainted. Her heart did not stop, so other than being a bit frightened; I’d say she’s okay. All the turning with her evening prep must have loosened the connections.”
Fainted? She’d looked dead. Edward’s relief turned to fury. “It’s happened before. How is it we can put men on the moon, but we can’t make better damn connections so helpless people don’t have to worry about smothering to death?”
“I’m sorry. I know it’s very frightening. It’s frustrating for us, too. We don’t usually have trouble like this anymore.”
Frustrating for them? Really? Edward scowled. “I’m sure my wife takes great comfort in that.”
“Her nurse taped the tube. I’ll switch her to a different brand vent and see if that helps. Later if she can’t be weaned from the vent, we can determine if she might be a good candidate for a diaphragmatic stimulator.”
Unable to think of a civil response, Edward brushed past the doctor. He needed to see for himself that she was okay.
The Lives Between Us Page 29