Before leaving, I leaned over and kissed Brody. Cole squeezed his shoulder and we both started to follow the doctor out. My mother lingered behind, but soon met us in the hallway.
Glancing first at me then at my mother, the doctor said sympathetically, “As you can see, Brody is in very bad shape.” He looked down at the clipboard he was holding and elaborated, “He experienced blunt force trauma. He has a brain hemorrhage and there is bleeding around his lungs. His left arm is broken. So are most of his ribs. He has a thigh fracture, which is causing internal bleeding in his legs. I am afraid there is also damage to his heart, liver, lungs, and spleen.”
My mother buried her face in her hands. In a barely audible voice she said, “It can’t be. I can’t do this again.” I had no idea what she meant but I wasn’t about to ask. I had questions to ask the doctor instead.
“Will he be able to walk again?”
The doctor squeezed my forearm gently. “I’m sorry. I don’t think you understand the severity of your brother’s situation. Walking is the least of your brother’s concerns. I hate to have to tell you this, but he may not make it through the night.”
Cole grabbed a hold of me. He stopped me from falling. I felt like the world was spinning out of control. My brother and I went through so much together. He was such an important part of my life. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for him. And now he could be dying? How was that possible? He was only twenty-one, too young for it all to end.
The doctor continued. “Give the nurses a few more minutes to settle him in and then they will come get you and bring you upstairs. You’ll be able to see him. He’s sedated so he isn’t in any pain. We’re going to do everything we can for him. Giving up is not an option, so stay strong. Pray for the best, but prepare yourselves for the worst.” He looked over at the policemen and gestured for them to come over. “While you are waiting, the police will fill you in on how the accident happened. I’m going to be here all night. I will see you in a little while. I have some other patients to check in on.”
I reached for Cole’s hand. “Who cares how the accident happened?” I said as the doctor walked away and the police began walking towards us. “Brody could be dying.”
Cole put his arms around me and engulfed me in a hug. He squeezed me tightly and kissed the top of my head. “We need to know what happened,” he said calmly. “Come on, Anna. You need to be strong. For your brother.” My mother didn’t say a word. She glared at me; her gray eyes were ice-cold.
Officer Davis did the speaking while his partner stood silently at his side looking down at his shoes. “We have several witnesses that came forward who saw the accident, so we have a very clear picture of what happened tonight. Brody was driving northbound on Long Beach Road. He was stopped at a red light at the border of Island Park and Oceanside. The light turned green and he started to accelerate. He barely made it through the intersection when he was hit head on by a forty-five year old woman in a Lexus SUV. She was driving approximately seventy-five miles per hour and was going in the wrong direction. She hit Brody head on. The impact caused his body to become airborne. When he landed, he hit the ground hard. After slamming into your brother’s motorcycle, the driver swerved her car back into the correct lane and came to a complete stop. She was clearly intoxicated. In fact, her blood alcohol level was three times the legal limit. She was unscathed and was arrested at the scene.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” my mother exclaimed. She looked like she wanted to punch the cop, a wall, or me. “She does this to my son and she just walks away without a scratch on her? Where is the fucking justice? I hope to hell she rots in prison. I could kill that ignorant bitch with my own bare hands.”
Cole let go of me and tried to put his arm around my mom. “Get the hell off of me,” she pushed Cole away. “I don’t need your comforting. Who the hell do you think you are anyway, some white knight? You think your calm, soothing words are going to make a difference here? My son is lying in intensive care. He very well may be dying. And you think a hug will make things better? Unbelievable.” She shook her head in disgust. “If you feel the need to hug someone, hug her,” she said as she pointed at me.
There was something about the way she said it. It sounded so vicious. I had no idea why she seemed so hateful towards me, but it didn’t really matter. All that mattered to me was my brother.
A nurse approached us and told us we could go upstairs and see Brody. I held onto Cole’s hand, my nails dug deeply into his palm. We all rode up the elevator in silence. When we got to the intensive care unit only my mom and I were allowed to see Brody. Cole had to stay behind because they didn’t want to overwhelm Brody, and technically he wasn’t family.
If Brody looked bad before, he looked worse now. There were tubes and monitors everywhere. His face was as pale as the hospital gown draped over his body. Despite the fact he was almost six-feet tall, he looked tiny and helpless in the hospital bed. Memories of our childhood came flooding back to me. I remembered when my parents first brought him home from the hospital. I held him constantly, always wanting to feed him and change his diaper. I would pretend he was my baby. When he was two, he grabbed my hand and put it next to his face. I felt so much love for him, thinking he was returning my affection until he used my finger to pick his nose. I didn’t get mad. I never could. I still couldn’t. The memories kept coming at a fast and furious pace, just as tears slid down my face. I stood by the left side of his bed and held on tightly to his shoulder. As if silently praying, I kept repeating in a barely audible voice, “I love you Brody, please come back to me,” over and over again.
My mother had pulled a chair over to his bed. She was leaning over and was whispering into his left ear. I think she also was reflecting on his childhood. I couldn’t hear most of what she said, but I did hear her say “little boy” and “remember when” a lot of times.
Brody was the light of my mother’s eye. In her world, the sun rose and set over her son. She adored him, and always favored him to me. I was never jealous, probably because I recognized how special he was.
We stayed at his side for at least an hour. We only left because a nurse asked us to step outside for a few minutes so they could tend to him. She urged us to go home and get some rest. But her words fell on deaf ears. Neither my mother nor I could fathom leaving Brody alone.
We walked to the waiting room in silence. In fact, my mother didn’t say one word to me the entire time we were with my brother. Cole sat in an oversized chair absently thumbing through an upside down magazine. Before we entered the waiting area I grabbed my mom’s arm and spun her slightly towards me. “I need to give you a hug, Mom,” I said. “I am so scared.”
I tried to put my arms around her but she pushed back. “Not now, Annabel. I can’t hug you. I can barely look at you right now. Please just go sit with your fiancé. I’ll be on the other side of the room. I need to be alone.” And with a huff, she walked to the furthest corner of the waiting room.
“What was that all about?” Cole asked me as I sat down next to him.
“I’ve no idea. She told me she could barely look at me? Why would she say that to me?” I asked as another tear rolled down my face.
He used the back of his hand to wipe my tear away. “I don’t know, Baby. I don’t know.” He put his arm around me and held me tight. “Don’t worry about your mother now. Focus your energy on your brother. I called my mom when you were inside. She used to work at this hospital before she retired. She knows Brody’s doctor quite well. She said he is one of the best. She offered to come stay with us but I told her I thought it was best if she stayed home, especially given how your mother is acting. She agreed but assured me if we needed help she’d come right over.”
“I don’t know if I feel better or worse knowing Connie’s opinion of the doctor. I mean, I’m glad she thinks highly of him. But I want his diagnosis to be wrong.”
As soon as those words were out of my mouth there was an announcement on the hospital’s lou
dspeaker. “Code Blue, ICU. Code Blue, ICU.” I watched in shock as doctors and nurses with a crash cart went running into the ward.
I buried my head in Cole’s chest. “Oh my God. What if it’s Brody,” my voice was barely a whisper through my tears.
“Shhh, Anna,” Cole said as he gently stroked my hair. “We don’t know anything. He’s not the only person in the ward. Look around. There are plenty of other people in this waiting room. Everyone in intensive care is very sick. You have no way of knowing the code is for your brother.”
In my head I knew Cole had a valid point, but my stomach and my heart told me otherwise. I tried so hard to stay positive but it was practically impossible. I held on to Cole so tightly. Every second that passed felt like an eternity.
Eventually a nurse came to the waiting room. One by one, like a domino effect, each and every head snapped up, eyes like saucers red with grief stared at her. No one said a word, and I held my breath. The ticking of the clock on the wall was the only sound to be heard. A television was playing but someone must have turned off the sound. I was sure, everyone there was praying the nurse was not there for them, I know I sure was. We were all desperate to know our loved one was spared.
In a soft and compassionate voice she asked, “Is Brody Buchanan’s family here?”
Cole replied we were. Then the three of us slowly rose from our seats.
“Come with me,” she said and she started walking down the long hallway. We followed her in silence. She opened a door and brought us into a small room. There were several seats, but not one of us sat down.
She closed the door before addressing us. “The emergency we just had was for Brody. He went into cardiac arrest. We tried everything we could to resuscitate him but his heart just wasn’t strong enough. I’m so very sorry, Brody didn’t make it.”
My mother screamed “No” and sunk to the floor. The nurse squatted down next to her and engulfed her in her arms. She guided my mother to one of the chairs. I remained standing but buried my head into Cole’s chest and sobbed uncontrollably. My brother was dead?
I had no idea how much time passed. It could have been a moment or an hour? What was time when the world you knew was ending? Eventually the nurse broke the silence. “Let me know if you want to see him and say a final goodbye.”
“I can’t,” I said. I didn’t want to remember my brother this way. It was bad enough I would always remember him lying in that damn hospital bed all bruised and battered. I didn’t want to see his lifeless body and know we’d never be able to spend another moment together. He was so young and full of life; these were the memories I needed to hold onto now and always.
“Well, I most certainly need to see my baby,” my mother said as she stood up.
“I will give you all a minute,” the nurse said. “I’ll be right outside this door. When you are ready Mrs. Buchanan I will take you to see your son.”
As soon as the nurse closed the door my mother faced me. Her eyes were bulging from her head. A vein in her forehead was prominent. She had venom in her voice as she emphasized every word. “You... Did...This! You are responsible for this! You killed your brother. It’s entirely your fault. Just know his blood is on your hands.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, dumbfounded. My heart was throbbing in my chest. “I didn’t kill Brody. He was hit by a drunk driver.”
“That’s right. He was hit by an SUV while he was on a motorcycle. He didn’t have a chance in hell to survive, now did he? He had no business riding that godforsaken thing. He never should have had the bike. And he wouldn’t have had it if you didn’t give him the damn money to buy that death machine. He asked me for the money. I’m sure he told you I said no to him. I’m sure he told you I flat out refused to give him one red cent to use towards it. I bet you two concocted some story about why I was being unreasonable about it. I could just picture you all snickering and making fun of me. I hope you both had fun mocking me. Do you want to know why I didn’t want him to have the bike?”
I didn’t answer. I just nodded my head slowly.
“I didn’t want him to have the motorcycle because I knew this would happen. And guess what, I was right. And now my son is dead. If it weren’t for you my son would be alive right now. You may not have driven the car that struck him, but in my eyes you are just as responsible for his death as the drunk who hit him.”
I opened my mouth to speak. I wanted to defend myself. But my mother stopped me. “Close your mouth. Don’t you dare say a word to me. Anything you have to say means nothing. Not now, and maybe not ever. I need you to get out of my sight. I can’t stand to look at you. You make me sick!”
“But, Mom,” I begged.
“I have nothing else to say to you. I’ll make arrangements for his funeral tomorrow. I have Cole’s cell number. I will call him with the details, as far as I’m concerned I lost two children tonight.”
CHAPTER 16
TRUE TO HER WORD, my mother called Cole the next morning and went over the funeral arrangements with him. Cole urged her to talk to me, but she refused.
Instead of my brother writing a best man speech for my wedding, as we had planned, I wrote a eulogy for his funeral. My mother acted as if I didn’t exist. She said the bare minimum to me at the service as well as during the days that followed. But I was confident, as time passed her attitude towards me would change. After all how could she really continue to blame me for my brother’s death?
I guess I wasn’t one to take a hint. During those first few weeks following Brody’s death I kept trying to call her. I desperately wanted to speak to her. After all, my brother was gone and my father had died years before. She was the only family I had left. I needed my mom. But the more I pushed, the more she pulled away.
It was her idea to have a weekly, scheduled call. She said she needed to be emotionally prepared to speak to me. She told me it was too upsetting to just hear my voice unexpectedly. I didn’t understand, but I complied. I hoped it would be a temporary arrangement. It wasn’t. For twelve years, it was how we communicated. I told her about my decision to elope on one of our scheduled calls. When I found out I was pregnant I waited until a Thursday to share the news. And since Violet was born on a Wednesday night I waited until the appropriate time the next day to inform my mother she had a granddaughter.
As I pulled into the cemetery’s entrance I was overcome with doubts. I couldn’t decide if I should chance my mother’s wrath or just make a U-turn and drive back home. I was so worried about how my mother would react to seeing me. Our relationship had definitely gotten better over the years, but it was far from ideal. And no matter how hard I tried, I could never forget how her anger and hatred had cut me deeply. The confusion I felt by her actions never went away.
I stopped my car and opened the window. I needed some fresh air. While I contemplated what to do Sister Sledge came on the radio. As I listened to “We Are Family” I couldn’t help but think Brody was sending me a sign and it made me happy. Over the years, I believed Brody sent me signs, and every time I felt his presence it was so comforting.
I parked right behind my mother’s car. As I walked to where both my brother and father were buried my heat beat so fast. In an attempt to try and control my nervous energy I slowed my pace down the pathway. As soon as I reached the gravesite I saw my mother sitting on a small blanket next to Brody’s grave.
I walked over to her and silently placed my hand on her right shoulder. She turned her head and looked up at me, with tear filled eyes. She offered me a sad smile and stood up. In silence she put her arms around me and hugged me incredibly tight. I hugged her back, equally as tight. As I angled my head so that it rested in the crook of her neck I let out a loud sob. My mother sniffled as she ran her hand from the top of my head down to the middle of my back repeatedly. This gentle gesture made me cry harder. For the first time in twelve years, thanks to this embrace, I felt the maternal love I have been longing for all these years. I didn’t want this moment to ever e
nd.
Pulling back from me my mother said, “Well this is a surprise, Annabel. I didn’t expect to see you.”
“I didn’t expect to be here either,” I replied. “I don’t really like to come. It’s funny, but I always feel like a part of Brody is with me. When I am missing him I like to think about all the great times we had, and sometimes I find myself talking to him when no one is around. Coming to the cemetery seems so final.”
“It is final, I think that’s why I like to come here so much. I like knowing I’m where he is. I feel more connected to him here than anywhere else. Maybe it’s because I know he has to listen to what I say here. Let’s face it he can’t run away.” She laughed quietly. “So why did you come then?” she asked kindly.
“I called your house a little while ago, and Walter told me you were here. It was actually his idea for me to join you,” I replied.
“I’m glad you came.”
I looked at her with inquisitive eyes.
“Really, I am. Come, sit with me for a while.” She took my hand and we both sat down on the blanket.
As I sat there, I felt more at peace than I had felt in a very long time. I wasn’t sure what it was that made me feel so calm. I’m sure the quiet serenity of the cemetery helped, but I really think my tranquility resulted from feeling so close to my mother. For so many years I hoped I could experience this feeling, and finally I was.
Neither one of us spoke as we sat. We were both lost in our own thoughts and memories. After about an hour, my mom stood up and broke the silence. “There’s a diner nearby,” she said as she started walking to where our cars were parked. “Follow me there. I’ll buy you lunch.”
***
Plan Bea Page 13