Dominic followed him over, and they sat opposite one another.
“I’m not looking to make trouble,” Dominic said. “I’m just asking to see my grandma.”
Jack nodded, then asked his grandma’s name. “Let me check with the nurses. If she’s awake, I’ll walk you up and you can have five minutes, but if she’s sleeping, you’ve got to agree to come back tomorrow and not disturb her, okay?”
Dominic gave a reluctant nod.
Jack went to the phone on the main counter and buzzed the nurses’ station on Three West. He gave Alice’s name and asked for her status.
Dominic couldn’t hear their conversation, but he could see Jack bobbing his head in response to whatever was being said. Several minutes later, Jack returned to the sofa and dropped down beside Dominic.
“Your grandma’s been sedated, and she’s sound asleep. According to the nurse, she was in quite a bit of pain earlier, so I think the kindest thing you can do is let her get the rest she needs.”
Dominic sat silent. Jack could see his resolve waning.
“You don’t want to see your grandma in pain, do you?”
“Of course not.”
“Then let her rest. She’s had a rough day.”
“Can I see her tomorrow?”
“Absolutely.”
Dominic sat there for a few minutes; then he walked back to his car and drove home.
That night, he left every light burning and didn’t go to bed. Sometime around dawn he fell asleep on the sofa.
49
The Next Day
Alice saw herself walking beside Joe. Not as they’d been in the later years, but as they’d been at the beginning. Her long hair fell loosely across her bare shoulders; the white sundress was bright against the summer bronze of her skin. A breeze ruffled her skirt, and overhead, the Founder’s Day banner flapped against the building. Joe wrapped his arm around her waist and hugged her close. He whispered something in her ear, and she laughed.
Beyond the crowd, she saw someone standing in front of the town hall building with his straw hat tipped back and a briar pipe in his hand.
“I want you to meet my dad,” Joe said and tugged her across the street.
Alice tried to say she already knew him, but the music coming from the bandstand was too loud.
When they broke through the crowd, Daddy DeLuca was standing right in front of her, his dark hair pushed to one side and his mouth curled ever so slightly.
He looked down, and his smile broadened. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Thinking those words were meant for him, Joe answered, “We were over by the bandstand, listening to the music.” Then he introduced her to his father, acting as if they’d never met before.
They talked for a while; as they turned to leave, she looked back, and Daddy DeLuca mouthed the words Do the right thing.
Alice woke with a start, at first not knowing where she was and then remembering the trip to the hospital. The room was dark with a narrow shaft of light coming from the hallway. In the distance there were muffled voices and the whirring of a machine. She listened, but the sounds were foreign to her ear.
She could still picture Daddy DeLuca telling her to do the right thing, but she couldn’t recall whether or not she’d done it. There had been so much to do, and the past few days seemed fuzzy.
In the darkness of the room with no way to know the time, she wondered how long she’d been here. She was trying to remember if a second day and night had passed since she’d come here when a razor-sharp pain ricocheted along her spine. She reached for the pain pump hanging on the side of her bed and pressed the button. Moments later the pain was gone, and she was again asleep.
Tracy was at Mercy General before visiting hours began. She’d spent a sleepless night looking at shadows on the ceiling and thinking about Alice DeLuca. In the few short months they’d known one another, she’d grown fond of Lucas’s great-grandmother, and now the thought of losing her was painful.
Alice was asleep when she entered the room, so Tracy sat in the chair beside her bed. After a few minutes she lifted the frail hand into her own and held it. Alice looked peaceful, not narrow-lipped and wincing as she’d been the last time she came to visit Lucas.
Before long, a nurse entered the room, a round woman with a cheerful voice.
“Good morning, Alice,” she sang out and then went about the tasks of checking the chart and feeling for Alice’s pulse.
“She’s asleep, isn’t she?” Tracy asked.
The nurse nodded. “It’s a deep sleep because of the morphine.”
“Do you know when she’ll wake up?”
The nurse gave a polite smile and almost imperceptible shrug. “There’s no way of knowing. She’s pretty heavily sedated and that keeps her comfortable, which at this point is all we can do.”
“There’s nothing . . . ?”
The nurse shook her head. “Her spine is almost disintegrated; how she stood the pain this long is a miracle.”
A heavy sigh came from Tracy as she sat silently and watched the nurse move about the room, updating the chart, resetting the machine that counted Alice’s heartbeats, and changing the IV bag that hung from a pole alongside the bed.
When those tasks were finished, the nurse turned to Tracy. “Are you her daughter?”
Tracy shook her head sadly. “Just a friend.”
The nurse crossed over to where Tracy was sitting and gave her shoulder an understanding squeeze. “I know how difficult this is. Hopefully it helps to know she’s not in pain.”
“It does,” Tracy replied, “but there were things I wanted to tell her and haven’t had the chance.”
“Tell her now. Many doctors believe that even when patients are comatose, they hear people speaking to them.”
The nurse told a story of a young woman who actually brought her husband out of a coma by reminding him of how much their family depended upon him. Then she squeezed Tracy’s shoulder again.
Once the nurse was gone, Tracy took Alice’s hand in hers. It was as light as a baby bird, little more than a skeletal frame covered over with parchment paper. She bent and kissed the gnarled fingers.
“I wish we could have gotten to know you sooner, Alice. You came into our lives so unexpectedly, but in the short time we’ve had together, Lucas and I have both come to love you. You’re a wonderful grandma to him, and you’ve been a true friend to me. We’re going to miss . . .” She stopped and brushed back a tear, her voice now thick and quivery. “I never had the chance to say it . . .” She hesitated a moment, listening to her words and then changing them. “Actually, that’s not true, I did have the chance, but I didn’t take it, because I always thought we’d have more time. I wanted us to have more time. The little bit we’ve spent with you has been far too short, but I hope you know you’ve given Lucas memories that will last a lifetime, and when he’s old enough to understand, I’ll tell him how very much you loved him. I promise you, Alice, you’ll be a part of his life forever.”
After she’d said the things she needed to say, she went on to talk of small everyday things. Bits about Lucas and Meghan and how Lila was baking a coconut pineapple cake stacked five layers high. She talked of how she’d fallen behind on the Snip ’n Save ads again and needed to catch up, and she spoke of how the nights had turned chilly enough for an extra blanket on the bed.
After two hours of one-sided conversation, Tracy stood and gently laid Alice’s hand back on the bed.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” she said. “Until then, get some rest, and maybe you’ll be feeling better.”
As she walked down the long corridor to the elevators, her eyes welled up, and the tears began to roll down her cheeks.
Had Tracy left a minute later or Dominic arrived a minute earlier, they would have met at the elevator, but as it was, they passed by without seeing one another.
50
Dominic’s Visit
Dominic intended to be at the hospital early, but he’d fal
len asleep on the sofa and didn’t wake until the glare of the noonday sun crested the peak of the roof and hit the front window.
Still feeling the effects of last night’s liquor, it took a full minute for him to come to the realization of where he was and to remember what had happened. He wearily pushed himself upright and sat there until he felt steady enough to stand.
Last night he’d had a thousand things he wanted to get off his chest, thoughts about the unfairness of life and how he deserved more than he got, but now those things seemed irrelevant. Now there was only a need to tell his grandma that she’d been the only real mother he’d ever known, and he’d keep right on loving her no matter what she did with the damn farm. It was something that couldn’t wait; he had to pull himself together and get to the hospital right away.
He stumbled into the kitchen looking for something to ease the ache in his head. After sliding open several drawers and finding nothing but an assortment of pot holders, dish towels, and cutlery, he tried the top cupboard and came up with a bottle of Tylenol. He shook two tablets into the palm of his hand, then swallowed them down with a glass of water. His hand was shaky and his legs still wobbly. He couldn’t let his grandma see him this way.
Torn between dashing off to the hospital as he’d intended or first ridding himself of what was an obvious hangover, he considered his grandma’s disdain of drunkenness and decided on the latter.
Coffee and a bite to eat, that’ll fix me up.
The coffeepot was sitting beside the sink. Dominic poured the little bit left from yesterday into a mug and slid it into the microwave. Taking a biscuit from the refrigerator, he sat at the table and started to eat. After only two bites he pushed it aside.
The stale coffee and cold biscuit were tasteless reminders of Alice. When she was here, the biscuits were fluffy and warm from the oven, the coffee rich with an aroma that called him to come to breakfast; yet he had ignored that. He had kept to himself and stayed in his room, angry about a dozen different things, all of which had been brought on by his own behavior.
Dominic left the half-full mug sitting on the table and hurried upstairs to shower. He glanced into the bathroom mirror and almost immediately regretted doing so. He looked like hell, his eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot, the stubble of a beard shadowing his face.
Screw it, he thought and stepped into the shower.
When Dominic arrived at the hospital, the lobby was crowded with people coming and going. On the right side of the room was a stanchion sign that read OBTAIN VISITOR PASS HERE. Alongside the sign a silver-haired woman sat behind a desk. He stopped, got a pass, then hurried back to the elevators.
Dominic expected his grandma to be sitting up in bed, a bit pale perhaps, but none the worse for wear. Instead, she was lying in a prone position with her eyes closed. In a voice that was loud enough to wake her, he said, “Hi, Grandma. I came to see how you’re feeling.”
There was no response, but he figured she was resting her eyes the way she did in the recliner and continued talking.
“I want you to know I found the report from the investigator, and I’m not mad about it. Disappointed, maybe, but not mad. I wish you could have loved me for who I am instead of going behind my back and hiring an investigator . . .”
He paced at the foot of her bed and kept talking. After several minutes of explaining how he hadn’t come home expecting to get anything, that he’d come just because she’d asked him to, he stopped, turned to her, and said, “Grandma, aren’t you gonna say anything?”
She didn’t answer.
“Grandma?”
He stood alongside the bed and gently shook her shoulder. When she still didn’t respond, he went running down the hall in search of a nurse.
Mamie Sayre was on duty that afternoon. He spotted her walking down the hall, ran after her, and grabbed her by the arm.
“You’ve gotta come quick. Something’s wrong with Grandma!”
Mamie swiveled her head and looked at the unfamiliar face. “Grandma who?”
“DeLuca,” Dominic replied and turned back toward the room.
Mamie followed him down the hall. “I checked on Miss Alice fifteen minutes ago, and she seemed to be doing okay.”
Once they got to the room, Dominic stepped aside and made way for Mamie. Talking to Alice as if she was sitting up, wide-awake, Mamie began a check of one thing and another.
“Miss Alice,” she said, “your grandson done scared me to death, saying something was wrong, but here you are resting nice and comfortable . . .”
After she’d flicked a finger at the IV bag to make sure it was dripping properly, she came around to the other side of the bed, saying, “I think you might be a tad more comfy if I raise your head a bit . . .”
She pressed a button, adjusted the bed, then turned to Dominic, who was leaning back against the wall with his mouth hanging open.
“Son, you’ve got no cause for worry. Miss Alice is doing just fine.”
She motioned for Dominic to follow her out of the room. As soon as they stepped into the hallway, he said, “What kind of a nurse are you? My grandma is lying there like a dead person, and you’re talking to her like you’re expecting her to answer!”
“Calm down,” Mamie said and touched Dominic’s shoulder. “I understand how you’re feeling. This is a hard thing to be going through.”
He shook her hand loose. “Don’t give me that crap. Just do something to help my grandma!”
“Your grandma’s not in any pain. We’re keeping her comfortable, and that’s all we can do.”
“What do you mean, that’s all you can do? I need to talk to my grandma. Get a doctor to come wake her up.”
Mamie looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “There’s nothing a doctor can do. Your grandma might regain consciousness on her own, and she might not.” She stepped closer and reached out, but Dominic pulled back. “Son, you do realize your grandma is terminal, don’t you?”
Dominic’s breath caught, and his stomach churned. The stale coffee he’d had belched into his throat, and for a moment, he was certain he was going to throw up. When he could speak again, he mumbled, “Of course, but . . . I thought she had more time . . .”
“Not anymore, I’m afraid. She’s end-stage.”
“Shit!” He smacked his hand against the wall. “Why? Why now? Last time, she had chemo and got better. Why not now?”
“Different time, different cancer.”
This time, Dominic didn’t answer. He just stood there with his chin dropped down on his chest and a wretched look wrinkling his face.
Mamie moved closer and clamped her hand onto his arm. “Son, we’re doing everything we can to make sure your grandma is comfortable and well cared for.” Seeing his reddened eyes and stooped shoulders, she added, “The best thing you can do is go home and get some sleep. There are gonna be tough days ahead, and I think your grandma would rest easier if she knew you were strong enough to handle whatever comes your way.”
Without a word, Dominic turned and went back into Alice’s room. He stood there for several minutes, looking at her and watching the neon-green zigzag line bouncing across the monitor. Every rise and fall of the line was the measurement of a heartbeat, and he cringed at the thought of how few she might have left.
After a while the room seemed to grow smaller and the air thin. Cold beads of sweat popped up on his brow, and a feeling of nausea rose from his stomach.
“I gotta go, Grandma.” He bent, gave her cheek a kiss, and then hurried from the room.
51
Two Days Later
For the next two days, Alice lingered on the edge of consciousness. The morphine drip gave her the necessary pain relief, but it also brought long hours of what the doctors classified as deep sleep.
Dominic called the hospital twice a day, asking about his grandma, and each time the nurse responded with the same answer.
“Right now she’s unresponsive, but perhaps later on or tomorrow morning . . .”
&nb
sp; “Okay, then,” Dominic replied, “I’ll wait until she’s awake to come for a visit.”
Mamie tried to explain that Alice’s moments of lucidity were few and far between, but by then, Dominic had already hung up the phone.
Tracy came in the morning and stayed for two, and sometimes three, hours. She dropped Lucas off at the Hawke School, then drove back to the hospital and stayed until it was time to pick him up.
Tracy began speaking to Alice in much the same way Mamie did, as if she were awake and hearing every word. That first morning, she came in waving a piece of construction paper. “Good morning, Alice,” she said and crossed over to the cork bulletin board. “Lucas made a get-well drawing for you. I’m going to pin it up over here so you can take a look when you’re feeling up to it.”
She turned and saw Alice’s eyes flicker open. Although her head never moved, for a fleeting moment it seemed as though her eyes shifted to the far side of the room where the bulletin board was.
“Alice, you’re awake!” Tracy hurried over to the bulletin board, grabbed the drawing, and carried it back to the bed.
By then, Alice’s eyes were again closed.
Mamie came in a short while later, continuing to talk to Alice as if she were wide-awake and sitting upright. “You’re looking mighty fine today, Miss Alice,” she said. “Mighty fine, indeed.”
“Alice really was awake a few minutes ago,” Tracy said. “She opened her eyes to see the get-well card Lucas made for her.”
“I don’t doubt it for one little minute,” Mamie replied. “She must have a powerful lot of love for that boy.”
“She does.” Tracy nodded as she blinked back a tear.
Charlie came early in the afternoon and remained at Alice’s bedside until the corridor lights were dimmed and the nurse insisted it was past time for visitors to leave.
He pulled the straight-backed chair alongside Alice’s bed and held her hand in his. For hours on end, he talked, reminding her about the good times they’d had together and the storms they’d weathered.
A Year of Extraordinary Moments (A Magnolia Grove Novel) Page 17