Accident

“I think we just have to cool it for a while, and see what happens to Allie,” he said calmly. It was a reasonable suggestion, but Page was still too angry to hear it. “Besides, it would be too hard on Andy right now, if we did anything drastic.” It was the first really sensible thing he'd said, and Page had to nod in agreement.

“Yeah, I guess you're right.” And then she looked up at him, her eyes full of anguished questions. “So you just go on with …this thing …and we talk about it later, is that it?”

“More or less,” he said, squirming a little as he met her eyes. He knew he was asking a lot of her, and that in her shoes, he couldn't have done it. But he expected her to.

“Sounds like a pretty easy deal for you. And I turn the other way? Is that it?” Page asked, wondering how he could ask that of her.

“I don't know what to do, Page. You have to figure that out.” This time he said it almost harshly. He was not willing to jeopardize his relationship with Stephanie, and yet at the same time, he seemed to want to hang on to his marriage, at least until he had decided what exactly it was he wanted. It sounded like a sweet deal for him, and it made Page furious to be asked to agree to it. But right now, she had no choice and she knew it. She couldn't cope with separating from him, and Allie's accident, and Andy's reactions to all of it, not to mention her own. But no matter what she did, she knew that she would be thinking about what was coming at her in the future. And for the moment, none of it looked pleasant or easy.

“If you're asking me for permission, I'm not going to give it to you,” she said icily. “You have no right to expect that from me. You didn't have my permission before, and you did what you wanted. But I'm not going to make it easy for you now by saying it's fine with me. It's not. And sooner or later, you're going to have to live with the consequences of your actions.” In some ways, it was lucky for him that they had more important things to deal with right now, and he could get by without having to face what he had done to their marriage. But eventually, no matter what happened to Allie, they'd have to deal with it, and they both knew that. It was what was frightening Brad, and depressing Page, as they stood outside the ICU at Marin General.

He looked at her for a long moment, not sure what to say to her, and then glanced at his watch. He needed a reprieve desperately. This was all too much for him, the emotions were running too high, and the reality of it was terrifying. Their lives had changed in the blink of an eye, and he still hadn't fully absorbed all that had happened.

“We can talk about this some other time. I have to get back to the office.”

“Where will you be if I need you?” she said coldly. He was removing himself from her in every way he could, from Allie, from the hospital which was so upsetting to both of them, and from having to face her now that she knew about his affair. He was simply leaving, and going back to the office to hide …and to Stephanie, to console him. Page suddenly found herself wondering what she looked like.

“What do you mean, 'Where will I be'?” he said unpleasantly. “I just told you. At the office.”

“I just thought I'd ask, in case you wander off somewhere.” He knew exactly what she meant, and his face got red as he fought back a flash of embarrassment and anger. “If you do, leave a message at the desk in ICU as to where I can find you.”

“Obviously,” he said coldly.

She wanted to ask him if he'd be home that night, but suddenly she found she didn't want to ask him anything. She didn't want to hear the lies, didn't want to argue with him anymore, or insult him, or listen to the contempt and defensiveness in his voice. She felt totally drained by their conversation.

“I'll call you later,” he said, and sped away, as she watched him disappear down the hall. She felt so many things as she looked at him, angry, sad, confused, hurt, betrayed, furious …furious …frightened …and so lonely.

She went back to Allyson then, and at three o'clock she drove to Ross Grammar School to pick up Andy. It was a relief to follow her old routine again, to be with him, to be there for him, and take him to familiar places. She stayed with him all afternoon, and then dropped him off at Jane Gilson's for dinner. Brad was supposed to pick him up later, on his way home from the office.

“I'll see you in the morning,” she said, kissing him, grateful for the sweet smell of his flesh, the softness of his hair, the two little arms around her neck as he kissed her. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom. Kiss Allie for me.”

“I will, sweetheart.”

She thanked Jane Gilson again, who admonished her, as Trygve had, not to overdo it. “What do you think I ought to do?” Page asked irritably, “stay home and watch TV? How can I be anywhere else but there, given her condition?”

“I know, just be reasonable. Try not to wear yourself out completely.” But it was too late for that, and they all knew it. Page's engine was running on fumes, but she had no choice now. She had to be there for Allie.

She was back at the hospital by seven-fifteen. She sat with Allyson for as long as she could in ICU, and then she went to sit in the hallway. She sat in a stiff chair, and leaned her head against the wall with her eyes closed. She just sat there for a long time, waiting for them to let her come back in again. You weren't supposed to stay in ICU constantly, the staff had too much to do, and most of the patients were too sick to enjoy the visits.

“That looks uncomfortable,” she heard Trygve's voice in an undertone next to her, and she opened her eyes slowly and smiled to see him. She was exhausted by then, it had been an endless day, and Allyson had not improved or regained consciousness after the operation. They didn't really expect her to regain consciousness. But there were important signs they looked for to indicate further complications to the brain. Even though she was in a coma, they tested her constantly. And so far, things were no better. “How was your day?” he asked, as he sat down in the chair next to hers. His hadn't been easy either. Chloe was in a lot of pain, in spite of the medication.

“Not great.” And then she remembered the messages on her machine. They had used up the tape, and it amazed her. “Did you get as many calls from kids today as I did?”

“Probably.” He smiled. “A bunch of them came down here after school, but they wouldn't let them into ICU. I think a few of them tried to see Allie, too, but of course the nurses wouldn't let them.”

“It'll probably do them good …once they're better” …if …when … or maybe never. “Word must have traveled like wildfire at school.” And everyone was devastated about Phillip Chapman.

“One of the kids told me that some reporters showed up at school, to talk to the other kids about Phillip, about what kind of boy he was. He was a big star on the swimming team, got terrific grades, the perfect kid. I guess it makes it a better story.” He shook his head, thinking, as Page did, that either of their daughters could have died just as easily as Phillip.

There had been a big article in the paper that day, about the accident, with photographs, and stories about each of the four young people involved. The main focus of it of course had been on Laura Hutchinson, her devastation over the death of Phillip Chapman. She had refused an interview, but there was a lovely photograph of her, and several quotes from one of the Senator's aides. They had explained that Mrs. Hutchinson was far too upset about the whole event to make any official comment. As a mother herself, she understood only too well the grief of the Chapmans, and the anxieties of the parents of the injured children. The article essentially cleared her name, and without actually saying so, somehow managed to imply that while the young driver hadn't been legally drunk, the group had in fact been drinking. The feeling one got in the end was that the accident was Phillip's fault, although the writer never actually came right out and said it.

“It was very well done,” Trygve said quietly, as they talked. “They never actually accused him of being drunk, but they somehow managed to convey that impression, while saying of course that Mrs. Hutchinson is a mature, upstanding citizen, and an excellent mother. How could she possibly be responsible for the death of one boy, and the near death of three others?”

“You sound as though you don't believe them.” Page sounded worried. She didn't know what she believed anymore. The hospital had said clearly that Phillip was not drunk, and yet the accident had to be someone's fault, or maybe it really didn't matter. Knowing whose fault it was wouldn't whisk Allyson out of the ICU like magic, or repair Chloe's legs. It wouldn't change a thing. The only thing it might change was the eventual lawsuits, and Page couldn't even think about that now. The whole idea of suing someone wouldn't do the kids any good, or bring Phillip back to life. The idea of suing made her sick. It was all much too confusing.

“It's not that I don't believe them,” Trygve answered her, “it's that I know how reporters write. The innuendos, the lies, the way they cover themselves, or develop a story to coincide with their opinions. Political reporters do it all the time. They only report what works with the story they have in mind, and their point of view, or that of their paper, it's not necessarily the whole truth. It's designed to fit a preconceived picture. And that could be happening here. Also Hutchinson's aides were pushing a lot of propaganda to cover her and make her look good. Maybe it wasn't her fault, but it could have been, and they wanted to be damn sure she looked like Mrs. Goodie Two Shoes, Mrs. Perfect Mother and Driver.”

“Do you think it might have been her fault?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But it certainly could have been, just as much as it could have been Phillip's. I spoke to the highway patrol again, and they still maintain that the evidence is inconclusive. If anything, the cars seemed almost equally to blame. The only difference is that Phillip was a kid, he hadn't been driving as long as she had. Boys are assumed to be wild behind the wheel, but not all of them are. And from everything the kids have said, the Chapman boy was a very responsible guy. Jamie Applegate said he had half a glass of wine, and two cups of black coffee. I've driven on a lot more than that. Maybe I shouldn't have. But he was a big kid, half a glass of wine shouldn't have knocked him flat, not followed by two cups of coffee and then later, a cappuccino. But Mrs. Hutchinson said she didn't have a drink all night. So she was older, sober, better known, more respectable, more grown up, and without further evidence, Phillip somehow begins to look guilty. It isn't really fair. I think that's what bothers me. Kids always get a bad rap, even when they don't deserve it. It seems particularly unfair to his family. Why should he get blamed, if no one knows for sure whose fault it was?

“I spoke to Jamie today, and he swears that they weren't drunk, and that Phillip was paying attention. I wanted to blame him at first … I wanted to be mad at someone, and he was the obvious choice. But I'm not so sure he is anymore. And I have to admit, I wanted to kill the Apple-gate kid at first too, for conspiring with Chloe and getting her to lie to me, for getting her into that car in the first place. But he seems like a decent kid, and I've spoken to his father twice on the phone. Jamie is just beside himself over it. He keeps wanting to see Chloe, but I think it's too soon. I told him to wait a few days, and we'll see.

“Are you going to let him see her?” Page was impressed with his sense of fairness. And intrigued by his suspicion of Laura Hutchinson. The truth was that it was probably just what it appeared. An accident. With no one to blame, and too many who had paid too dearly for a moment's distraction, a glance in the wrong direction, the merest move of the hand on the wheel, and tragedy resulting. She wasn't really angry at anyone. She was just desperate for Allyson to survive it.

Trygve nodded in answer to her question about letting Jamie Applegate see Chloe. “I'd probably let him see her. If she wants to see him. I'll leave it up to her when she feels better. She may not even want to see him again. But he's so overwrought over the whole thing, it might do him good to see her, when she's a little better. His father says he's convinced they're all … ah …” Before he spoke, he realized the harshness of his words, and he didn't want to upset Page any further. “He's afraid that they might die, and he feels guilty for surviving. He said as much to me, he kept saying it should have been him instead of Phillip …and instead of Chloe …and Allie. Apparently, he and the Chapman boy had been best friends for years. He's in a terrible state.” And then he glanced at Page again, and gently asked her a question.

“Are you going to the Chapman boy's funeral tomorrow, Page?” He hated to ask her.

She nodded slowly. She hadn't been sure before, but now she thought she really should go. She owed it to them. They had lost their boy. And she had almost lost Allie. But almost was not the same, and her heart ached as she thought of the sorrow they must be feeling.

“It must be awful for them,” she said softly, as Trygve nodded.

“Will Brad go, or do you want me to drive you? I think it's in the afternoon, so the kids can go too. It might be easier not to go alone.” He was dreading it too, as she sighed, thinking of the sheer horror of it, and the pain. She could only pray that they wouldn't have to go through it with Allie.

“I don't know if Brad will go, but I doubt it.” He hated funerals, and she knew that, unlike Trygve, he was very vocal about blaming Phillip for the accident. She doubted that he'd be willing to go to the funeral with her, and with their current situation, it was even less likely.

“I don't know how you begin to survive that,” she said in a whisper, as she tried not to think about it. And then she looked at Trygve again with grief in her eyes. “I'm not even sure how you survive this. I'm beginning to feel like my whole life is coming apart, and it's only been two days. I don't know …what does one do? How do you learn to get through something like this, and not let your whole world fall apart?” There were tears in her eyes as she spoke to him. He felt like an old friend, or an older brother.

“Maybe you don't keep it from falling apart. Maybe it does, and you pick up the pieces later.”

“Maybe so,” she said sadly, thinking of Brad. Trygve seemed almost to read her mind with the next question.

“How's Brad taking it? It must have been quite a shock when he heard in Cleveland.”

For a moment she was tempted to tell him that he'd never been in Cleveland, but that didn't seem fair. She just shook her head and was silent for a long moment. “He hasn't taken it well at all. He's upset and frightened and angry. He blames Phillip for the accident. But in a way, I think he blames me too, for not knowing what she was doing. He hasn't exactly said it, but he implied it.” It was also a way of deflecting the guilt from him. It was a relief to him to blame her for something. “The worst thing,” she turned to him, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears, “is that I'm not sure he's wrong. Maybe it is my fault. Maybe if I'd paid more attention, if I'd been suspicious, or questioned her, if I hadn't believed her …this would never have happened.” She began to sob openly then, from exhaustion and emotion, and he put an arm around her shoulders.

“You can't let yourself think that. We had no reason to suspect them. They'd never done anything like this before, and you can't play cop constantly. We trusted them, that's not a crime, and their lie wasn't so terrible either. Other kids have done the same thing. It was just the result that was so terrible, but who could have known that?”

“Brad thinks I should have.”

“So does Dana. But it's just talk. They need someone to blame, so we're it. You can't take it to heart. He's upset. He doesn't know what to say probably, or who to rail at.”

“Maybe,” she said, and she was quiet for a long time, as she remembered the statistics she'd often read about what accidents to children, or their deaths, did to destroy a marriage. If there was a crack in it somewhere, it would surely break. And their marriage apparently had a crack in it the size of the Grand Canyon. “Actually,” she said quietly, surprising him with her next remark, “things aren't going too well with me and Brad.” She wasn't sure why she was telling him, but she had to tell someone. She had never felt as alone or as miserable in her life, and there was no one else she wanted to talk to. She knew she had to call her mother one of these days to tell her about Allie, but she wasn't ready to do that yet. She needed time to adjust to what was happening herself, before she took on her mother in New York. It was just more than she could handle right then. Everything was, except being at the hospital, sitting with Allyson, or talking to Trygve. “Brad and I …” She started to say the words, and then found she couldn't.

“You don't have to explain, Page.” Trygve tried to make it easier for her. “No one would have an easy time with this. I was just sitting here thinking that Dana and I would never have survived it.” In fact, he still couldn't believe that even after he'd called her, she had decided not to come to see her daughter. She had accused him of negligence, but she didn't want to fly all the way to San Francisco to see Chloe. She just hoped she'd be well enough to meet her in Europe in the summer. She was definitely not a woman he admired, or even a decent mother. He could only wonder how he had stayed married to her for twenty years. Sometimes he felt like a total fool, when he thought about it, but he also knew that for the past several years he had stayed with her so as not to disrupt the children.

Page tried to explain what was happening to them. “Our problem doesn't have anything to do with the accident. It just happens to have come to light right now, in the midst of all this.” She was cryptic, but it was obvious that she was deeply upset about something that had happened with her husband. Maybe an affair, he thought, he had a lot of experience with those, and their impact on a relationship. But that didn't seem likely. Brad had never seemed the type to be unfaithful.

“You can't judge anything in a crisis.”

“Why not? What if it's real? What if nothing is the way I thought it was for all these years? What if it's all been a lie?”

“If it is, you'll know it later. Don't judge anything right now. Neither of you is in any condition to think straight.”

“How do you know that?” she asked worriedly. She had a lot to think about, and in some ways the hospital was a great place to do it.

“I have a lot of experience with difficult relationships, and things that aren't what they seem. Believe me, I know what I'm saying. But I also know that everything is upside down right now. You can't hold each other accountable for what you do or say, or the way you react. Look at you, you're exhausted, you haven't eaten decently or slept in two days. Your child almost died. You're completely traumatized. Who wouldn't be? So am I … so is Brad … so are our other children…. Do you really trust your own reactions right now? Hell, I'm afraid to order groceries, I'd probably order bird food for the dog, and dog food for the kids. Listen …give yourself a break. Try not to think about anything right now. Just try to get through this.”

“I didn't realize you did marriage counseling.” She smiled, and he laughed.

“I only know it from worst case. If anything good happens, don't consult me,”

“Was it that bad?” Somehow they felt like old friends now and he still had his arm around her shoulders.

“Worse.” But he was smiling as he said it. “I think we probably had one of the worst marriages in history. I think I've finally recovered, but it's made me damn scared to try it again.” She remembered what Allyson had said on Saturday afternoon, that he never went out with anyone, and Page was sorry for him. He was a very attractive man, intelligent, and a nice one.

“Maybe you just need more time,” she said sympathetically, and he laughed out loud.

“Yeah, like another forty or fifty years. I'm in no hurry to make the same mistakes again, and make myself and my children miserable. I'm taking it very easy in the meantime. They deserve a lot better than they had, and so do I. It's just not easy to find it.”

“Maybe once you stop being scared, you'll find it more easily,” she said gently.

“Maybe, but I'm not holding my breath. I'm happy like this, and so are my kids. That means everything to me, Page. It's a lot better to be alone, than to be with the wrong woman.”

“Maybe. I don't know. I've been married to the same man since I was twenty-three. I always thought everything was perfect, and suddenly the bottom dropped out of everything. I don't know what to think, or who I'm married to. Things have gotten very confused.” And all in a matter of days, hours, minutes.

“Remember what I said,” he warned again, “don't judge anything in the midst of a crisis.”

“Maybe not,” she said quietly, surprised that she was willing to tell him so much about her life. But what she had learned from Brad had shaken her to the core, she needed to talk to someone, and she trusted Trygve. She wasn't sure why, but she did, implicitly. In the past forty-eight hours, he had been there as no other friend would have. Even Brad had let her down. But Trygve had been there, and crisis or not, she knew she wouldn't forget it.

It was almost midnight by then. They had talked for a long time, and gone into ICU several times, to check on Allyson and Chloe. Chloe was asleep, and Allyson was still unconscious. Trygve was thinking about going home, when the resident came out to find Page, and explained that Allyson was having complications. The brain swelling that they had feared had begun to occur, and she was experiencing a lot of pressure on the wound, and her skull. This was the “third injury” they had warned her about, and the resident explained that they were afraid of blood clots.

Trygve volunteered to stay at the hospital with her, the head of the surgical team came, and Allyson began to experience further difficulties. With the swelling, her blood pressure had risen, and her pulse had slowed, and the doctor didn't like the way she was looking. By one o'clock, it looked as though she might not make it. Page couldn't believe it was happening. She had been stable only an hour before …but on the other hand, two days before that, she had been normal. Life had a way of changing a hundred and eighty degrees without a moment's warning.

By the time the rest of the surgical team came, Page had tried to call Brad several times, but the answering machine was on, and he didn't pick up. Finally, in desperation she asked Trygve to call Jane Gilson, and have her go over and wake Brad up. She could stay with Andy so Brad could leave. But when Trygve came back from the phone, he only shook his head and delivered Jane's message. Brad had never come to pick Andy up at all. The boy was sound asleep in her bed, and she had no idea where Brad was. He had never called her.

“He never called?” Page looked stunned. How could he do that now, with everything happening, and after all he'd said? What was he thinking of? His sex life, or his daughter?

“She said she never heard from him. I'm sorry, Page.” He took her hand in his, and knew then that what he had suspected was probably right. Brad Clarke probably was having an affair, or maybe he was just getting drunk, to take the strain off. And his timing was certainly lousy. Trygve felt sorry for Page, who seemed to be carrying this responsibility all alone. But nothing surprised him anymore. He had seen and lived it all with Dana. “Don't worry about it,” he reassured her, as they waited for the doctors to evaluate Al-lie. “He'll turn up. And there's nothing he can do here anyway. None of us can.” But he could have been there, as she was, and Trygve was for Chloe. “Not everyone can handle this, you know. I used to get sick at the thought of hospitals.”

“So what changed?”

“My kids. I had to do it for them, because Dana never did. Brad has you, so he knows Allie's in good hands.” He smiled gently at her, making excuses for Brad that he didn't deserve, and Page knew it. And who was there for her? If Trygve hadn't stuck around, she would have been alone. She assumed that Brad was probably with his girlfriend. But she still didn't know where to find him.

The doctors came back and talked to them again eventually. Allyson had stabilized somewhat again, but she was still clearly in danger. The swelling of her brain was not a good sign, and could have been a sign of further injury, or a result of the surgery on Sunday. It was difficult to tell, but they didn't want to raise false hopes. They felt there was a good chance now that Allyson might not make it.

“You mean now?” Page said, looking terrified. “Tonight?” Was that what they meant? That she was about to die …oh God no …please …when they allowed her to, she hurried in to see her, and sat silently next to the bed, as tears poured down her face, and she held the girl's hand, as though by keeping a firm grip on her she might keep her from drifting off, or finally leaving them after all she'd been through.

They let Page sit with her that night, and she never moved, she just sat there holding her hand, watching her face, and praying.

“I love you,” she whispered from time to time. “I love you,” as though she were determined for Allie to hear her. And when the sun came up, the swelling of her brain had gotten no worse, and her breathing continued mechanically on the respirator. She hadn't improved, but she was still with them. Everything could change again in a matter of moments, and they suggested that Page stay in close touch if she went home, but they assured her that they felt that for the moment, Allyson was out of immediate danger, and she was heavily sedated to combat the effects of the operation.

It was six-thirty in the morning when Page left ICU, after gently kissing her child, and as she walked out into the hall, every inch of her body was stiff and aching. And she was amazed when she saw Trygve waiting for her there. He was asleep in a chair, but he hadn't moved in hours. He had wanted to be there with her in case Allyson died, and Brad had never called. He was a damn fool, Trygve thought, but he would never have said it to Page. He was just grateful, with her, that Allie had made it through the night, and survived yet another disaster.

“Come on, I'll take you home. You can leave your car here. I'll bring you back later.”

“I can take a cab if I have to,” she said appreciatively. She was too tired to walk, let alone drive, and she followed him out to his car in the parking lot, relieved that Allyson had survived another night. If only she would live, Page thought to herself as she slipped into the front seat of his car. If only they could will her to make it.

“You were very brave,” Trygve said softly as he leaned over and kissed her cheek. He gave her shoulders a squeeze and patted her hand, and then started the car.

“I was so scared, Trygve … I wanted to run and hide,” she confessed. It was all so much worse than anything she had ever dreamed, worse than anyone's worst nightmare.

“But you didn't. And she made it. Just take it step by step,” he said wisely, as he drove her home. When they got there, he glanced over at her, and saw that she was sound asleep, and he hated to wake her. He shook her gently, and she stirred, and then looked at him with a slow smile.

“Thank you …for being such a good friend.”

“I wish we had become good friends some other way,” he said ruefully, “like the swim team, or your mural.” And then he remembered. “You still want to go to Phillip's funeral today?” he asked quietly, and she nodded. She was sure by then that Brad would not go with her.

“I'll pick you up at two-fifteen. Try and get some sleep between now and then. You really need it.”

“Pll do my best.” She touched his hand, and got out, and he watched her let herself into the house with her key. There was no one there, and it was seven o'clock in the morning.

Trygve waved and drove away, as Page gently closed the door, wondering what she would say to Brad when she saw him. There seemed to be nothing left to say, except good-bye. Or had they already said it?

CHAPTER 7

It was seven o'clock in the morning as Page stood in her living room, trying to decide whether to go to bed, or go next door to pick up Andy at Jane Gilson's. She was bone tired, and desperately in need of sleep, but she knew that Andy needed her too, so she washed her face and combed her hair, and then listened to her messages on the phone machine in the kitchen. There were none from Brad, which suddenly made her furious. How could he do this now, with Allyson barely clinging to life? And what was wrong with Stephanie that she would let him?

Page went next door to pick Andy up then, and found him eating breakfast with Jane. The television was on, and Jane was making him fresh waffles, and singing.

“Lucky you!” Page said tiredly as she kissed the top of his head and smiled at Jane. Her friend saw then that the dark circles under her eyes had deepened.

“How's Allie?” Andy asked immediately, and Page hesitated for a moment. She had to fight back tears before she answered. Suddenly, she couldn't say the words. She had almost died that night, but thank God she hadn't. Jane saw her choke on her words and touched her shoulder as she went to get her a cup of coffee.

“She's okay,” she told Andy, and then turned to Jane and spoke softly while Andy helped himself to more waffles. “Things got kind of rough last night. Her brain swelled after the surgery, and she had a lot of trouble breathing.”

“Is she gonna die?” Andy's eyes looked huge as he listened, and Page shook her head. At least she hadn't died, and they were still praying she wasn't going to.

“I hope not.”

He was silent for a moment as he absorbed what she had said, and then he asked her another difficult question. “Where's Daddy? He never came for me last night.”

“I think he got tied up at the office, and you were sound asleep when he got home. He didn't want to wake you.”

“Oh.” Andy looked relieved. He had sensed their fighting the night before, and he didn't like it. Allie's accident had changed everything. Suddenly nothing seemed secure to him, and the people he loved were all frightened and upset and angry. “Can I see Allie today?”

“Not yet, sweetheart.” There was no way Page would let him see her. With no hair, her head and eyes wrapped in bandages, tubes and machines everywhere, and the smell of death and fear heavy around her. It was a terrifying sight for anyone, especially a child of seven. “When she's better. When she wakes up …” she said, fighting tears again. She had to turn away this time, so he wouldn't see, and Jane put an arm around her shoulders.

“You need sleep more than anything. Why don't you go to bed, and I'll take Andy to school today.” But Andy looked crestfallen at the suggestion. He had no idea how tired she was, or how frightening things were at the hospital. And he wanted his mother near him.

“I'm okay.” Page took a deep breath, and then a long sip of her coffee. “I'll be back in a few minutes, and I can go to bed then.” Page had already promised herself that she was going to go to bed until Trygve picked her up for the funeral. The hospital knew where to reach her if there was a problem. And she needed sleep desperately, she felt as though she couldn't walk another step. She had to fight to stay awake all the way to Ross Grammar School, and she drove home by inches. The moment she got back, she checked the phone machine again. Still no call from Brad. And it was too early to call him at the office.

It was hard to believe that he had dared to stay out all night, without even calling. But what would he have said? Sorry, I'm spending the night with my girlfriend. But it amazed her that things had gone so far in just a few days. Their whole married life, and their relationship, seemed to have crumbled.

Page was in bed by eight-fifteen, and although she tossed and turned in the daylight at first, thinking about Allyson and the terrors of the night before, by eight-thirty her body had overwhelmed her brain, and she was sound asleep in her bed with all her clothes on. She lay in a deep sleep until just past noon, when she was awakened by the persistent ringing of the phone. She leapt out of bed once she realized what it was, terrified that it was the hospital calling about Al-lie.

“Yes?” Her voice was barely a croak, but it wasn't the hospital. It was her mother.

“Good Lord, what's wrong with you? Are you sick?”

“No, Mother … I … I was sleeping.” There was so much to explain, and it would be so difficult to get it across to her mother.

“At noon? That's unusual. Are you pregnant?”

“No, I'm not. I was up late …” with your granddaughter, who almost died…. Suddenly, Page felt guilty for not calling her sooner.

“You never called me back over the weekend. You said you would.” She loved to complain, she relished the role of the injured party. She always claimed that Page neglected her, but the truth was she was much closer to Page's sister, Alexis. Page's older sister lived in New York, and spent a lot of time with their mother.

“I've been busy, Mom.” How did you even begin to say the words? She closed her eyes as she struggled with her own emotions. “Allyson had an accident Saturday night.”

“Is she all right?” Her mother sounded stunned. Even she couldn't hide from those words, or the force they carried with them. She was a basically intelligent woman who hid that fact from everyone, and lived in a dream world.

“No, she's not. She's in a coma. She had brain surgery on Sunday. We don't know what's going to happen. I'm sorry I didn't call you, Mom. I just didn't know what to say, and I wanted to wait until things were a little better.”

“How's Brad?” Page thought it was a strange question.

“Brad? He's fine, he wasn't in the accident. She was with a bunch of kids.”

“This must be very hard on him.” It was so typical of her mother, to focus on him, not on her daughter, or whether or not Allie would survive, but on Brad. If she didn't know her so well, she would have thought she hadn't heard her correctly.

“It's hard for all of us. Brad, me, Andy …Allie …”

“Will she be all right?”

“We don't know yet.”

“I'm sure she will. These things look terrible at first, but people survive accidents all the time.” Oh God. How typical. Always escaping reality, at any price. Things hadn't changed. But maybe, without seeing her, it was hard to understand Allyson's condition. “I've read some extraordinary stories of head injuries, and people in comas, and they just walk away from it. She's young. She'll be fine.” Her mother sounded so certain. Page only wished she could believe her.

“I hope so,” Page said wanly, staring at the floor, wondering how anyone could communicate with her mother. Nothing had changed since she was fourteen. Her mother still heard and believed only what she wanted to, and not another thing, no matter what you told her. “I'll keep you posted.”

“Tell her I love her,” Maribelle Addison said firmly. “They say people in comas hear everything. Do you talk to her, Page?”

Page nodded, as tears started to roll down her cheeks. Of course she talked to her …she told her how much she loved her …she begged her not to die and leave them …”Yes,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Good. Well, tell her that her Grandma and her aunt Alexis love her.” And then, almost as an afterthought, “Do you want us to come out?” They did almost everything together. But Page answered in a single breath. That was all she needed.

“No! …I'll call if I need you.”

“You do that, dear, I'll call you tomorrow.” It sounded like a date for a bridge game. It was amazing, she was totally positive, completely confident that Allyson would be fine, and not frightened of the possibilities for a single moment. As usual, she offered no comfort, no solace, no support for her youngest daughter.

“Thanks, Mom. I'll call if anything happens.”

“You do that, dear. Alexis and I are going shopping tomorrow. I'll call you when I get home. Give my love to Brad, and Andy.”

“I will.” They hung up then, and Page sat staring at the floor for a long time, trying not to remember what it had been like to live with her …with them … all the lies and the misery …and the endless hiding from reality. Alexis was perfect for it. She played the same games their mother did. Everything was lovely all the time, no one ever did anything wrong, and if they did, it was never mentioned. The waters were always calm, their voices were never raised, and inside they were all drowning. Page had almost drowned. She couldn't wait to leave home. She had moved out as soon as she had started art school. They hadn't wanted her to, and refused to pay for it, but she had done free-lance work, and worked as a waitress in a restaurant at night just so she could afford it. She would have done anything to get out. Her survival depended on it, and she knew it.

She was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she never heard him come in, and he never saw her. Brad was halfway across the room when she stirred, and they both jumped when they saw each other.

“For chrissake! …” he said as his eyes met hers. “Why didn't you say something?”

“I didn't know you were here. Home for lunch?” she said coolly. She was still sitting on the bed in her rumpled clothes, and her uncombed hair. But she looked better and more rested than she had earlier that morning.

“I just came by to drop off some things.” He looked vague as he walked into the bathroom and put a shirt in the hamper.

“Yesterday's laundry? How soon would you like it? Or did you come home for a clean shirt so you can stay out again tonight?” Her voice dripped anger and venom. “Don't you think you could at least call? Or are we dropping all pretense of being married?”

“You weren't here anyway. What's the difference?” He looked and sounded so callous suddenly, and she wanted to strike him.

“You could have called ICU, or Jane. Andy was waiting for you. He thought you'd had an accident too. Or do you no longer care about him either? Allyson almost died last night.” She let him have it with both barrels. And he looked appropriately stricken.

“Is she okay?”

“She's holding on. But barely.”

He looked at her miserably then. He had just wanted to forget it all for one night. It had been such a relief to be away from the hospital, and Page, and even Andy.

“I guess I just forgot to call.” It was a terrible excuse, and he knew it.

“I wish I could forget too. Maybe you're lucky,” she said sadly. She couldn't walk away from any of it, and she wouldn't have wanted to. And three days before, she wouldn't have walked away from him either. Now everything was different. “You can't just blank out on this, Brad. It's really happening, and you have to face it. How would you feel if she'd died last night?”

“How do you think I'd feel?” He looked grim as he watched her.

“Andy needs you too. And maybe you need to be with Allyson. If something happens …” She couldn't have been anywhere else, but Brad didn't agree with her.

“Sitting with Allyson won't change anything,” he said defensively. “She's going to live or die, whether I'm there or not. It just upsets me, and maybe trying to drag her back at any cost isn't the answer.”

“What are you saying to me?” Page looked horrified. “Are you saying we should let her die?”Page wanted to scream just listening to him. What had happened to him? What was he saying?

“I'm saying I want Allie back. Allie. The girl she used to be, and would have become if this hadn't happened. Beautiful and strong and intelligent, and capable, able to do anything she wanted. Do you really want her to live if she's going to be less than that? Do you really want a brain-damaged child to nurse for the rest of your life? Do you want that for her? Because I don't. I'd rather let her go now if that's what she's going to be. And sitting there, watching her, while her brain swells, and a respirator breathes for her, isn't going to make a damn bit of difference. We've done what we could. Now all we can do is wait. And waiting here or waiting there doesn't make any difference to her.” But what if it did? What if she knew they were there with her?

Page looked sickened by what he was saying. “Andy needs you as much as she does. Or is that too much for you too?” She was giving him no mercy, but right now, in her eyes, he didn't deserve it. He was failing all of them, and for totally selfish reasons.

“Maybe it's all too much for me. Has that ever occurred to you?” he asked, taking a step closer to her again. He hated seeing her now, it always turned into an argument or a reproach, or a series of accusations.

“It occurs to me that you're indulging yourself, and making some terrible decisions. Time hasn't just stopped because you want it to, Brad. This isn't 'time out' while you sort out your sex life. Allie needs you, no matter what you think of her condition or her future. She needs you even more because of that. And Andy needs you. The poor kid is terrified, he's watching his family fall apart in front of his eyes, he knows his sister may die, he doesn't know where you are, and all of a sudden he's living with the neighbors.”

“Then maybe you need to come home at night,” Brad said, and was startled when Page stood up and walked several steps closer to where he stood.

“Let me tell you something, Brad. I'm not leaving Allie more than I have to until we know if she'll make it, or until she dies. And if she does …” Tears filled Page's eyes as she said the words, but her voice didn't waver. “I'm going to be there with her, holding her hand, and holding her as she leaves this world, just as I did when she entered it. I'm not going to be at home, or with you, unless you're at the hospital too, or even with Andy. But at least I'm not with some floozie somewhere, trying to pretend this hasn't happened.” She turned away from him then. She couldn't stand the look on his face, which told her that he had already left them.

“Page.” She turned to look at him then, when she heard the tears in his voice, which surprised her. He sat down heavily in a chair, and dropped his face into his hands. “I can't stand seeing her like that. It's like she's already gone … I can't stand it.” Page couldn't understand what made him think he had a choice. She couldn't stand it either. But she knew she had to. For Allie.

“But she's not gone,” Page said quietly, wanting to comfort him, but afraid to come any closer. There was so much between them now, so much pain and loss and disappointment. She no longer trusted him, or believed in him. She hardly knew who he was now. “She still has a chance, Brad. You can't let go of that till she does.”

“She'd be better off dead than a vegetable, Page, and you know it.”

“Don't say that!” she said vehemently. She had never given up easily, and she couldn't understand his attitude now. It was as though he wanted the easy way out, even for Allie, even if it meant losing her, or giving up. Page just couldn't do that.

“I don't know …” he went on, looking and feeling guilty for everything he was feeling. But he just couldn't help it. “When I saw her, I just couldn't imagine her pulling out of this, and I don't want her to be a vegetable for the rest of her life …the things they talk about …about comas …and spasticity …and loss of motor skills …and brain …forebrain …brain stem …how can you listen to all that and still think she's going to be normal?”

“Because there's still hope for her. Maybe it won't be easy …maybe she won't make a total recovery …hell, maybe she won't even live …but if she does …” Her eyes filled with tears again. “…But if she does … we have to help her.”

He looked at Page in despair, crying softly. “I can't … I can't do this, Page …” He was desperately scared, and Page knew it. She came to stand next to him then, and put her arms around him, as he leaned his head against her. She gently stroked his hair, and wished neither of them had come so far on the road to destruction. But it couldn't be erased, just like the accident couldn't be erased for Allie. “I'm so scared,” he whispered as he leaned his head against her breasts. “… I don't want her to die …but I don't want her to live like that, Page … I can't even stand to see it …I'm sorry about last night … I shouldn't have disappeared like that …but I just couldn't face it.” She nodded, understanding what he felt, but it didn't make it any easier for her. He wanted to run away from it, and he had. But it left her all alone, to face the nightmare that was happening to Allie. “What if she dies?” He looked up at her with anguished eyes, and she took a deep breath as she thought of it, and tried to face it.

“I don't know,” she said softly, “I thought she would last night …but she didn't. We have another day …another hour … we just have to pray.” He nodded, wishing he had her strength. He still wanted to run away, and Stephanie made it so easy for him to do that. She felt sorry for him, and she let him escape the horror of what was happening to his child. She let him think that he couldn't help anyway. He had told her Page was good at handling it, and she had urged him to let her. But when he saw Page struggling with the pain of it, he felt consumed with guilt, and he knew he was wrong to fail her.

And as he leaned against her, he felt a deep ache of longing for her, and a stirring that he knew would bring them closer. He put his arms around her, and tried to pull her down on his lap so he could kiss her. But she stiffened instantly and looked down at him in outrage.

“How could you?” After all that had come to light since the accident, she couldn't imagine being physically close to him again. Surely not now. And very probably never.

“I need you, Page.”

“That's disgusting,” she said, and meant it. He had Stephanie. What more did he want? A harem? Before she had known, it was different. But now she just couldn't. He kissed her anyway and there was a frantic quality to his passion. But it did nothing to soften Page's feelings toward him. If anything, she felt more distant. Suddenly he had become a stranger. He belonged to someone else, and not to her now.

She pulled away firmly, and he was out of breath, as she took a step backward. “I'm sorry,” she said, and walked away from him, leaving him looking angry and feeling foolish. He knew it was wrong to be doing this, to be hurting her, and clinging to Stephanie, but just as she had said, he was making all the wrong decisions.

He came to find her a little while later in the kitchen. She was making herself a cup of coffee, and she didn't turn around when she heard him walk into the kitchen behind her.

“I'm sorry. I got carried away. I guess it's inappropriate, given everything that's happened.” It was particularly incredible to realize that only a week before they had been making love, as though nothing were wrong, and she had had no idea that he had a lover. But now all of that had changed. And given the importance of his relationship with Stephanie, she didn't want him to touch her. It might have been different if he'd been consumed with regret, and promised to end it. But there was no such promise offered. If anything, it was ending between them. He seemed to want it that way. And now everything was out in the open, just as he had disappeared the night before, in spite of their needing him, or a possible emergency, or even just because of Andy's feelings. Stephanie came before all of them. The realization of that had hit Page like a ten-ton stone, and she couldn't ignore it.

“I think you ought to give me her number. If anything happens, and you're there, I should know how to reach you.” She said it without turning around and looking at him, and he didn't see the tears in her eyes when she said it.

“I …it won't happen again, I'll stay home with Andy tonight.”

“I don't care.” She wheeled to face him then, and the look on her face frightened him. She was so hurt, and so angry, and so determined. Their brief moment of closeness was clearly over. “It will happen again,; and I want the number.”

“Fine. I'll leave it on the pad.”

She nodded and took a sip of the hot coffee.

“What are you doing today?” He assumed she was going back to the hospital, and was surprised to discover that she wasn't.

“I'm going to the Chapman funeral. Do you want to come?”

“Not likely. The little bastard almost killed my kid. How can you go?” He looked incensed and she looked at him with barely concealed contempt and disapproval.

“The Chapmans lost their only son. And nothing proved it's his fault. How can you not go?”

“I don't owe them anything,” he said coldly. “And the lab tests showed he was drinking.”

“But not much. And what about the other driver? Couldn't it be her fault?” Trygve had wondered as much, and so had Page, but not Brad. It was so much easier to blame Phillip Chapman.

“Laura Hutchinson is a senator's wife, she has three children of her own, and she isn't going to run around drunk driving, or being negligent.” He sounded absolutely certain.

“How do you know that?” She wasn't sure of anything anymore, not the Senator's wife, not even her own husband. “How can you be so sure that it wasn't her fault?”

“I'm sure, that's all, and so were the police. They didn't give her a blood test, they obviously didn't think she needed one, or they would have. And they've laid no blame on her.” He clearly believed that.

“Maybe they were impressed with who she was.” They argued about everything these days, and Page was only grateful that Andy wasn't there to hear it. “Anyway, I'm going to the funeral. Trygve Thorensen is picking me up at two-fifteen to take me.”

Brad raised an eyebrow at her. “How cozy.”

“Don't give me that.” Her eyes blazed at him, her fatigue and anger showing. “The two of us have been sitting at that hospital that you hate so much for the past three days, waiting to see if our daughters were going to make it. And Phillip Chapman was driving the car his daughter was in too, but it's not keeping him from showing a little sympathy to the boy's parents.”

“What a great guy he is. Maybe you two can become 'friends,' since I no longer seem to appeal to you.” He was still piqued by her rebuff, although he understood it. But he was irritated by her praise of Trygve.

“Actually, he is a great guy, Brad. He's a good friend. And he's been there for me. He sat there and held my hand last night, when no one knew where you were, and the night of the accident when you were at the ‘John Gardiner’ with your little friend. He's been terrific. And you know what else, he's smart enough to keep his dick in his pants, and think about his kids, and not his sex life. So if you're looking for me to feel guilty or embarrassed, don't bother. I don't think Trygve Thorensen gives a shit about me as a woman, and that's just fine, because I'm not looking for a boyfriend. I just need a friend to be there for me, since I no longer seem to have a husband.”

There wasn't much Brad could say, and he walked into the bathroom and slammed the door. And without another word to her, he slammed out of the house ten minutes later. She wanted to strangle him, she was so mad, but a part of her was sad too. Everything had gone so wrong between them so quickly. It was almost impossible to understand it. The pressure they were under was excruciating, but so much else seemed to be wrong too, and she never knew it. The accident had uncovered everything, and brought its own problems along with it.

She showered and dressed for the funeral then, and Trygve came to pick her up at exactly two-fifteen. He was wearing a dark blue suit, white shirt, and dark tie, and he looked serious and very handsome. Page was wearing a black linen suit she had bought in New York the last time she visited her mother.

The service was at St. John's Episcopal Church, and somehow Page hadn't been prepared for the hundreds of kids who would attend, their shining young faces stricken by the loss of their friend, their hearts open for all to see, their grief overwhelming. There was a wonderful photograph of him with the swimming team on the program that the ushers handed out. And then Page realized that the ushers were Phillip's friends from the swim team. She saw Jamie Applegate there too. He looked devastated as he sat between his parents. But they seemed supportive of him. And his father had an arm around his shoulders.

They played all the music that the kids loved too, and Page felt tears instantly fill her throat as she heard it. There were at least three or four hundred young people in the church, and she knew Allyson would have been there too, if she hadn't been in the hospital in a coma.

And then, looking very dignified, and overwhelmed with grief, Phillip's parents walked in and took their seats in the front pew. There was another much older couple with them, Phillip's grandparents, and just seeing them made one cry. The power of his loss was so obvious just from their faces.

The minister spoke very movingly about the mysteries of God's love, and the terrible pain we feel at the loss of a loved one. He spoke of what an extraordinary young man Phillip had been, how admired by everyone, what a bright future he'd had before him. Page could hardly stand listening as she sobbed, trying not to think of what they would say if Allie died. It would be much the same thing. She was loved and admired by all. And the pain of her loss would be beyond bearing.

Mrs. Chapman cried openly through the entire ceremony, and the school choir sang “Amazing Grace” at the end of the service. And then everyone was invited up to the altar, for a moment of special prayer, and a last tribute to their friend. Mostly, the young people went, in groups or alone, crying, and holding hands, as they placed flowers on Phillip's casket. Everyone in the church was sobbing by then, and Page felt overwhelmed as she looked around her at the devastated young faces. It was then that she saw Laura Hutchinson, crying softly in a pew a few feet away. She seemed to have come alone, and she seemed as moved as everyone. Page stared at her for a long time, but she could see nothing more than a deeply affected mourner. Surprisingly little was said. Everyone looked dazed. It was just too painful.

And then, as they walked outside afterward, Page and Trygve noticed the reporters. They were following Laura Hutchinson at first, but she disappeared quickly into a limousine without speaking to them. And then they took photographs of the young people's faces, as they stood crying on the sidewalk. And then suddenly, they seemed to close in on the Chapmans. And Phillip's father became enraged and shouted at them through his tears that they were heartless bastards, as friends gently led him away. But even then, the reporters didn't leave, but they backed off slightly. It was still a hot story.

There was a reception after the service, in the school auditorium, and the Chapmans had invited a few friends to go home with them after that. But Page didn't want to go to either place. She couldn't bear it. She just wanted to be alone somewhere, to recover from the powerful blow of what she had felt at the service. She looked up at Trygve then, standing quietly at her side, and saw that he had cried as much as she had.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently, and she nodded but started to cry again. “Yeah. Me too. Come on, I'll take you home.” She nodded again and followed him back to the car, and they sat there for a long moment in silence. She hadn't had the courage to say anything to the Chapmans as they left, but they had signed the guest book in the front of the church. She read afterward in the paper that there had been over five hundred mourners.

“Oh God, that was rough.” She finally spoke, trying to catch her breath, as Trygve looked at her, feeling drained by his emotions.

“It's awful. There's nothing worse. I hope I never live long enough to see the death of one of my children.” And then he was sorry for what he had said, knowing that Allyson's life still hung in the balance, but Page understood it. She didn't want to go through it either.

“I saw Mrs. Hutchinson. It was pretty ballsy of her to be there. I would think the Chapmans would be upset by her coming.”

“Yeah, but the press would be favorably impressed. It shows how much she cares, how human she is. It was a smart move,” he said wryly.

“That sounds pretty cynical,” she said bluntly. “Maybe she's sincere.”

“I doubt it. I know politicians. Believe me, her husband told her to be there. Maybe the accident wasn't her fault, maybe she is totally innocent. But in the meantime, this makes her look good.”

“Is that what it was all about?” Page looked disappointed.

“Probably. I don't know. I just keep feeling that she was negligent somehow, that it wasn't the kids' fault, or maybe I just want to believe that.” So did the Chapmans. Trygve started the car, and they followed a long line of cars back toward Page's house, on the way to school, and then she remembered that she needed to go to the hospital anyway for her car. And she wanted to see Allie more than ever after what they'd just been through. She wanted to reassure herself that Allie was still there, after the misery of being at Phillip's funeral, and sharing all that anguish.

“Do you mind dropping me off?” she asked, smiling sadly at him. It had been a terrible afternoon for both of them. Page had called the hospital several times that afternoon to see how Allyson was, but there had been no change since that morning.

“No problem. I want to see Chloe anyway. It makes you grateful they're alive, doesn't it?”

Page nodded, thinking of what Brad had said in the heat of the moment about not wanting Allie to be less than perfect. But he seemed to believe it. “I'd rather have Allie in any state, than lose her. Maybe that's wrong of me, but that's how I feel. Brad says he'd rather lose her than have her be limited in any way.”

“That's a pretty elitist view of life, and awfully black and white. I agree with you, I'd rather have whatever I could get, than nothing.” Page agreed with him, but oddly enough, not about her marriage. She was much less willing to compromise there, but in her eyes that was different.

“He can't seem to face what's happening. He's running away from it,” she said quietly, trying not to get angry again thinking of his disappearances, as recently as the night before.

“Some people can't handle this kind of thing.”

“Yeah, like Dana …Brad … so how come we get stuck with it? Are we so brave? Or just stupid?” Page smiled at him.

“Probably both,” he grinned, “no choice, I guess. When there's no one else there, you do what you have to.” He looked at her honestly. He had spent enough time with her now to ask her a straight question. “It doesn't make you mad?” He was intrigued about her, and her willingness to accept what was obviously a less than perfect marriage. Brad had scarcely been around since the accident, and Trygve knew it.

“Actually, it makes me furious,” she admitted with a smile. “We just had a knock-down-drag-out fight about it at lunchtime.”

“At least you're human. It used to make me mad too, when Dana was never around when I needed her, or the kids did.”

“In this case, there are some other complications.”

Trygve nodded, trying not to ask any further questions. And then finally, he couldn't resist, and asked her anyway.

“Serious complications?”

“It looks that way,” she said honestly. “Possibly terminal.”

“Then it came as a surprise?” he asked gently.

“Actually, yes. I've been married for sixteen years and up until three days ago, I thought our marriage was terrific,” she said as they approached the hospital. “Apparently, I made a mistake. A big one.”

“Maybe not. Maybe this is just the hard part. Every marriage hits a rough spot, now and then.”

She shook her head, thinking about it. “There was a lot I didn't know. I've been kidding myself for a long time, and I didn't know it. But now that I do know it's hard to pretend it's not happening. I just can't do that. The timing is pretty rotten.” She looked grim as she explained it to him.

“Remember what I said before, some people go off the deep end when faced with a crisis.”

“I think he's been off it for a long time. He just happened to get caught with his pants down.” She smiled ruefully, and Trygve laughed at her expression, and the way she'd said it.

“Bad luck for him.” Trygve smiled. Page was amazed at the ease with which she spoke to him. She seemed to be able to tell him anything. Things she certainly wouldn't have told her sister or even Jane Gilson, who was an old friend, but not a real confidant. After the rigors of her early life, she had never gotten close to anyone except Brad, which made his betrayal all the more painful. And now, much to her surprise she could tell Trygve things she might even have hesitated telling Brad before all this happened.

They were at the hospital by then, and they headed for ICU, still subdued by the aura of the funeral, but it was almost a relief for both of them to see their children. Chloe was stirring a little bit, but doing fairly well, and Allie was the same. For the moment, her condition was stable.

Page left before Trygve this time. She went home around five o'clock to pick Andy up at Jane's. The car pool had taken him to baseball, and he would have been home by then. And by the time she drove to her house, she couldn't wait to see him.

It had been an agonizing afternoon, and the grief of Phillip's funeral took her breath away every time she thought of the young people crying for him, or the faces of his parents. They had looked inconsolable as they left the church, and Page's heart had gone out to them. She could still hear the high school chorus singing in her head as she rang the bell at Jane's house.

“Hi, how are you?” Jane looked at her, and then frowned as Page walked in. “Or shouldn't I ask?” Maybe things had gotten worse. Page looked drawn and pale and desperately unhappy.

“I'm okay,” she said quietly. “I went to Phillip Chapman's funeral.”

“How was it?” Jane asked as Page sat down on the couch and looked exhausted.

“About as bad as you'd expect. There were four hundred sobbing kids, and half as many parents.”

“Just what you need right now. Did Brad go with you?”

Page shook her head. “Trygve Thorensen took me. We saw the Senator's wife, looking appropriately grief-stricken and very proper. Frankly, I thought it took a lot of guts for her to be there. Trygve thought she did it for PR, and was playing to the reporters, to make sure everyone knows how innocent she is.”

“Is she?” Jane asked honestly.

“I'm beginning to think we'll never know. Probably no one was at fault, it was just a lot of bad luck and bad timing.”

“I'll say …there were reporters there?”

“TV cameras, and some photographers from the newspapers. I guess it's big stuff because of Mrs. Hutchinson, and it tears your heart out seeing those kids.” Not to mention the parents.

“The piece in the paper I read yesterday seemed to imply, more or less, that it was the Chapman boy's fault. Is that just talk, or is it real? Was he really drinking?”

“Apparently not enough to matter. And I hear Mr. Chapman is planning to sue the paper to clear Phillip's name. As I said, there's no evidence either way to prove whose fault it might have been. Neither his, nor Mrs. Hutchinson's, but he's a kid, and he had half a glass of wine …and two cups of coffee.” She and Trygve had talked it to death, and the story still stayed the same. It was an accident. It was no one's fault apparently. And she didn't blame the Chapmans for wanting to clear their son's name. He was a great kid, and he deserved to die with his fine reputation, if only for their sakes.

By then Andy had spotted her and he came running to meet her. He was wearing his baseball uniform and he looked so cute, she almost cried when she saw him. He looked so normal and healthy, it reminded her of only days before when she had taken him to his game, and everything seemed so simple. Allie wasn't in a coma then, and Brad hadn't confessed that he was cheating.

“And how was your day, Mr. Andrew Clarke?” she asked, beaming at him as he threw his arms around her.

“Great. I scored a home run!” He was pleased with himself, and she was happy to see him.

“You're terrific.”

He was thrilled to see her too, and then he looked up at her worriedly. “Are you going back to the hospital now? Am I staying here?”

“No, you're coming home with me.” She had decided to take a night off, for his sake. She knew how badly he needed it, and she wanted to be there for him. And as long as Allie's condition didn't change, she felt she could do it. She had decided to make dinner for him, more than just frozen pizza, and she wanted to sit down and talk to him, so he didn't feel so neglected.

“Can Dad do a barbecue?” She didn't know if Brad was coming home or staying out again, and she didn't want to promise anything, so she told him he couldn't. “Okay. We'll just have regular dinner then.” He seemed delighted at the prospect, and they went home a few minutes later.

She made hamburgers and baked potatoes for him, and a big green salad with avocados and tomatoes in it, and she was surprised when she heard Brad come in just as they were sitting down to dinner. She hadn't really expected him, but she had made enough to feed him too, just in case he did come home.

“Dad!” Andy shouted excitedly, and Page could see in his little face how desperately he needed contact with them. He was deeply worried.

“What a surprise!” Page said, not quite under her breath, and Brad shot her a dark look.

“Let's not start that, Page,” he said irritably. He had had a long day too, and he had made a point of coming home for dinner, for his son's sake. “Have you got enough?” he asked curtly, glancing at the table set for two, and the dinner she was serving Andy.

“No problem,” she said, and served him a full plate a moment later. Andy was telling his father about the game, and his home run in the fourth inning. He rattled on about his friends at school. He was like a little sponge soaking up whatever moments they had for him, whatever time they could spare from his desperately injured sister. Watching him made Page aware again of how frightened he was, and how much he needed them right now. In his own way, he was as scared as she was. And in some ways it was worse for him because he hadn't seen his sister.

“Can I go to the hospital to see Allie this weekend?” he asked as he finished his baked potato. Page was pleased to see that he had eaten well, and he looked more relaxed than he had at the beginning of dinner. But she still didn't think he was ready to see his sister. Her condition was too frightening, the danger still too acute. And if she died, Page didn't want him to have that as his last memory of Allie.

“I don't think so, sweetheart. We ne£d to wait until she feels a little better.” She also knew that you had to be at least eleven to visit the ICU, but their doctor had already told her he'd make an exception for Andy.

“But what if she doesn't feel better for a long time? I need to see her.” He started to whine, and Page glanced at Brad, but he wasn't paying attention. He was flipping through the paper with a deep frown and an unhappy expression. Stephanie had been furious when he told her he couldn't have dinner with her. He was almost used to it now. Someone was always angry at him.

“We'll see,” Page said about Andy's visit, as they cleared the table. She served them both ice cream with chocolate sauce for dessert, and made herself another cup of coffee. Neither of them had noticed it, but she had hardly eaten. And after a few minutes, she glanced over at Brad. “Brad …why don't you read that after dinner?” She hated it when he read during meals, and he knew it.

“Why? Did you have something to say to me?” he snapped, and she bristled, as Andy watched with a frightened look. He had never seen them fight that way before, and for the past few days they had done nothing but, and he was worried.

After dinner, Brad went to his desk to look for something. And Andy went to his room, looking forlorn, followed by Lizzie.

Page cleaned up the kitchen, cleared the table, set it for breakfast, and then listened to her messages. There were at least a dozen more, inquiring about Allie. And several of the young people at the funeral had asked when they could see her. Mercifully, the hospital was turning everyone away, and whatever flowers came for her were being sent to the children's ward, because there were none allowed in ICU. Page was glad she didn't have to see any of Allie's friends. She knew she couldn't have coped with their fears too. And the last call on the machine was from a reporter who said he wanted to ask her some questions. She didn't even bother to write his name down when she jotted down the others.

She called a few of the young people back who had left messages on the machine, but as always it was exhausting trying to explain it all to them, or telling the story again and again to their mothers. She had thought about putting a special recording on her message machine, telling everyone how Allie was, but the news was still so frightening, and the hope so slim, that Page couldn't bring herself to do it.

She went in to check on Andy finally, and she found him sitting on his bed, crying and talking to Lizzie. He was explaining to the dog about Allie's accident, and that she was gonna be okay, but she was still asleep, her eyes were bandaged, and her head was pretty swollen. It was a summary of sorts, though not entirely accurate, but it was close enough, and Lizzie wagged her tail as she listened.

“How's it going, sweetheart?” Page asked tiredly as she sat down next to him on the bed. She was grateful for the time at home with him, but it was also obvious how upset he was, and how little she could do to relieve it. She was happy that she had decided to spend the night at home with him. He really needed both of them, it was a good thing Brad had come home too, although he certainly wasn't being pleasant.

“How come you and Daddy fight all the time now?” he asked unhappily. “You never used to do that.”

“We're upset …about Allie …sometimes when grown-ups are sad or scared, they don't know how to show it, so they crab at each other, or they yell. I'm sorry, sweetheart. We don't mean to upset you.” She stroked his head as she tried to reassure him.

“You sound so mean when you talk to him.” How could she explain to him that his father was cheating on her, and their whole marriage had gone out the window. She couldn't, and she wouldn't. “It's hard being at the hospital with Allie.”

“How come, if she's just sleeping?” None of this made any sense to him. It was all so difficult, and so complicated, and the grown-ups he loved were acting so strangely.

“I worry about her a lot. Just like I worry about you.” She smiled, and his brows knit again.

“And Daddy? Do you worry about him too?”

“Of course I do. I worry about all of you. That's my job.” She smiled at him, and a few minutes later she ran the tub for him. And after his bath, she read him a story. He went to say good night to Brad, but he was on the phone, talking to someone, and he waved him away brusquely. Brad's nerves seemed to be on edge, not only with Page, but with Andy. Coming home for dinner hadn't been easy for him, and he wasn't entirely glad he'd done it. And he knew there'd be hell to pay with Stephanie when he saw her. Now that things were out in the open with Page, Stephanie was less willing to be patient.

Page put Andy to bed, and tucked him in, and he asked her to leave the light on in the hall, which he seldom did. Only when he was really frightened of something, or very sick, but they were all a little of both at the moment.

“Okay, sweetheart. I'll see you in the morning.” She kissed him again, and was grateful for him, as she walked back to the kitchen to put away the dishes.

She caught a glimpse of Brad sitting in the living room, but she didn't speak to him. There seemed to be nothing left to say anymore. And she had guessed correctly that he was talking to Stephanie on the phone when he'd been interrupted by Andy.

She emptied the dishwasher, finished cleaning up, returned a few more calls, and made herself another cup of coffee.

It was ten o'clock when Brad wandered in looking anxious and unhappy. It had been another difficult day for both of them, with their earlier exchange, the Chapman funeral, and dinner together had been far from easy. She was going through the mail, which she hadn't seen in two days, and looked up to see him.

“I guess things aren't going too well,” Brad said unhappily, as she glanced at him. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and for an instant Page remembered all the feelings she'd had for him for so many years, and wondered if through it all, he had really been a stranger. They had had two kids and shared sixteen years, and suddenly he had turned out to be someone completely different from the man she thought she lived with.

“You might say that,” she said sadly, as she poured a last cup of coffee. Her nerves were so on edge anyway, the caffeine no longer seemed to make much difference. “I think Andy is becoming aware of it.” Who wasn't? The air between them was palpable with grief and anger and disappointment.

“It's been a rough week.”

“Yeah. A doubleheader.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Brad asked with a puzzled expression.

“Allie, and our marriage.”

“Maybe it's all part of the same thing. Maybe once she's okay again, we'll be able to work things out.” It seemed odd to hear him say that, particularly since he'd been adamant about not giving up Stephanie. She wondered what he was saying. Was there hope for them? Had he changed his mind? Had something happened? She couldn't figure him out anymore, and wasn't sure she cared to.

“Maybe we could still work it out,” he said again, but he didn't sound convincing as he said it. “If we want to.”

“Us and Stephanie? Is that what you have in mind, Brad?” She said it bitterly, sounding exhausted. “Let's not start this again, or tease each other with false hope. Let's just get Allie back to life again, and then we can turn our attention to this. But right now, to be honest, I just don't have the stomach for it.”

He nodded. He couldn't disagree with her. And suddenly, Stephanie was pressuring him. It was almost as though she felt upstaged by Allyson and she was suddenly making demands he'd never before had to contend with. She wanted to spend more time with him, to be with him constantly, to have him spend the night when she knew he shouldn't. It was as though she was trying to prove something, as though she was trying to say that he belonged to her and not Page now. But the pressure on him, from both of them, was driving him crazy.

But before he could say anything to Page in answer to what she'd said to him, they heard a terrifying scream from Andy's bedroom. They ran to him as fast as they could, and Brad got there first. Andy was hysterical and still half asleep. He had had a terrible nightmare.

“It's all right …it's all right, champ …you're okay … it was just a bad dream …” But neither of them could calm him. He had dreamed they'd all had an accident, and everyone had been killed except him and Lizzie. There was blood everywhere, he said, and broken glass …and they had had the accident because his Mom and Dad were fighting. Brad and Page looked guiltily at each other over his head, and eventually he settled down again, although Page discovered he had wet his bed, and she had to change it. He hadn't done that since he was four, and it worried her even more. He was deeply disturbed even at an unconscious level.

“I guess you don't need a shrink to figure that one out,” Brad said softly as they went to their bedroom.

“He's been very upset about Allie. It's very frightening for him. He hears us talk about how serious it is, and he still hasn't seen her. For all he knows, she's already dead.”

“That's not all that's bothering him, and you know it,” Brad said.

“I know,” she admitted quietly. “We have to be more careful.” It was obvious that he had heard them fighting.

“I hate to say this,” he looked at her unhappily, “but maybe I should move out for a few days, or until we're all a little calmer and can handle what's happening.” Page was shocked by the suggestion.

“Would you move in with her?” They both knew who she meant, but Brad didn't answer.

“I can stay at a hotel, or rent a furnished place in the city at 2000 Broadway.” But Page also realized that it was the perfect opportunity for him to be with Stephanie, and not have to deal with his wife's reproaches and accusations. Given the circumstances, she wasn't even sure she blamed him, though it would certainly be difficult to explain to Andy.

“I don't know what to say,” Page said, looking at him, saddened by his suggestion. They had come a long way in a short time, to a place she had never dreamed they would get to. But as she looked at him pensively, the phone interrupted them, and she grabbed for it instantly in case it was about Allie. It was in fact the hospital. Allie's brain was swelling more, and the pressure was becoming too dangerous for her now. If there was no improvement, they wanted to operate in the morning. And they wanted her or Brad to sign the papers again in case they had to. They felt comfortable waiting through the night, unless something changed, but in all likelihood they felt she'd need surgery the following morning. It was her second brain surgery in four days, but Dr. Hammerman said there was no choice. Just like the first time they had operated, if they didn't, she wouldn't make it.

“They want to operate again?” Brad looked at her grimly and Page nodded. “And then what? Again and again … for chrissake, how often?”

“Maybe as often as they have to …until she gets well again …until her brain goes back to normal.”

“And if it doesn't?” He repeated his earlier concerns but Page didn't want to hear it. For her it didn't change anything.

“If it doesn't, she's still our daughter. I'm going to sign the papers, Brad. She has a right to everything they can do for her.” She would have fought him to the death if he tried to stop her, but in spite of what was happening to them, he was a reasonable man, and he wanted what was best for Allie. Page looked at him angrily, but the fight went out of him as he watched her.

“Do whatever you have to, Page.” He went to their bedroom then, and lay down on the bed, thinking about Allyson, and how wonderful she had been. It was almost hard to remember now, looking at the creature she'd become, lying in the hospital, broken almost beyond recognition. “Are you sleeping there tonight?” he asked, as Page walked in, and took her nightgown out of her closet. But she shook her head and looked at him.

“I thought I'd sleep with Andy.”

“You can sleep here.” He smiled hesitantly. “I'll behave myself. I still can, you know.” They exchanged a rare smile. But they had come to a sad crossroads in their life when it became an issue of who would sleep where, and whether or not he would move out. She felt, once again, as though she were living in a nightmare.

She lay in the narrow bed holding Andy for a long time that night, and the tears seemed to flow endlessly until her ears filled with them and the back of her throat, and her pillow was drenched. She had so much to mourn, so much she had taken for granted, and it was all gone now.

Andy was surprised in the morning when he found his mother sleeping with him, but he didn't question it. He got up and got dressed, and she made breakfast for all three of them. He never mentioned his nightmare again, but he was quiet when she dropped him off at school. Brad had said he would meet her at the hospital later that morning. She had to be there by eight-fifteen to sign the papers. They wanted to operate on her by ten, and this time Brad had promised that he'd be there.

CHAPTER 8

Page met the chief neurosurgeon outside ICU. There had been no improvement since the night before, so she signed the papers, and then went in to see her daughter. Allyson was still deeply comatose, all of the machines and monitors were on, but Page still managed to have a quiet moment with her. At that hour, there were no other visitors in ICU, and the nurses left them alone. They could monitor Allyson from the desk, where they could keep an eye on her monitors through their own screens and computers. Page sat quietly next to her, holding her hand and talking to her, touching her cheek from time to time, and she kissed her gently when they took her away at nine-thirty.

It was a long, lonely wait then, knowing that she was being prepared for surgery, and that if the operation was not successful, she clearly wouldn't make it. The pressure on her brain would cause extensive damage eventually, and the fractures and wounds could not heal with the ongoing trauma of the pressure.

Dr. Hammerman had told her that the operation would take eight to ten hours, and would once again be performed by the same team. It was almost routine, but in truth, it wasn't. It was terribly frightening. She had to fight to let herself think of the outcome. She couldn't allow herself to think of what might happen in the operating room, or if they came to tell her Allyson had died. She just couldn't bear it.

She looked anxious and pale when Brad finally arrived. He was half an hour later than he had said, but he had come, just as he'd promised.

“Did they say anything?” he asked anxiously.

“Nothing new,” she said softly. And then, “She looked so sweet just lying there, before they took her. I keep wanting to wake her up, but she doesn't.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she turned away from him. She no longer wanted to burden him with her feelings. She had lost her trust in him, and the openness they had always shared. It was as though he were someone else now. It was strange how you could lose someone so easily, how everything could change in a matter of moments. But she tried not to let herself think of that either, as they waited.

It was a long day, as they waited in the ICU waiting room, on uncomfortable chairs, amidst a constantly changing group of strangers. She and Brad said very little to each other all day. He was very quiet, and unusually patient with her, almost as though he felt obliged to be polite to her. They reminisced once or twice about Allie a little, but it was just too painful. Most of the time, they sat quietly, lost in their own thoughts, saying nothing to each other.

They finally went to get sandwiches in the cafeteria at four in the afternoon, and there was still no news. They told the nurse where they were going, and they ran into Trygve in the lobby. He wished them luck, and then went upstairs to see Chloe, and they didn't see him again after that. The Clarkes stayed to themselves in the small airless waiting room, watching the clock, and waiting to hear from the surgeon.

He finally came in at six-fifteen, and by then they both looked like they were ready to collapse from the endless tension. It had been yet another day filled with terror for them.

“How is she?” Brad leapt to his feet and met the doctor's eyes head-on, but the doctor nodded in satisfaction.

“She did better than we expected.”

“What does that mean?” Brad challenged him instantly, as Page sat tensely and listened. She thought that if she stood up, she might swoon, so she didn't move, she just sat there.

“It means that she survived, her vital signs are good. She gave us a little scare early on, but she rallied. We relieved as much pressure as we could. It was somewhat worse than we had suspected. But there's still every reason to believe she could make a full recovery, or close to it. We just have to wait and see how she does now, and of course how long she remains in the coma. Actually, we want her pretty subdued now, and she's being medicated accordingly. She needs that to allow her brain to repair, but in a few weeks we'll need to reevaluate her position.”

“A few weeks?” Brad looked horrified. “You expect her to stay in a coma for a few weeks?”

“It's possible …and not unlikely. In fact, longer than that wouldn't rule out a successful result, Mr. Clarke. This kind of injury requires a lot of patience.” Brad rolled his eyes and the surgeon smiled, and then looked down at Page. “She did fine, Mrs. Clarke,” he said gently, “she's not out of danger yet, by any means, but we're one step further, one more day, she survived one more enormous trauma. It's an encouraging sign. Of course we still have to wait to see the extent of her recovery, what lasting impact the trauma may have had, if any. But we're still a long way from there.” They still had to wait and see if she even survived it. She could still die very easily, and they all understood that. “She'll be in the recovery room overnight again. You may want to go home. We can call you there if there's any problem.”

“Do you expect there to be?” Page asked in a choked voice, and the surgeon hesitated for an instant before he answered.

“No, but we have to be realistic. This is her second major surgery in four days, she's withstood a great deal of trauma, both in surgery and from the accident. This adds further jeopardy to her status, until she stabilizes of course. She's doing well, but we're watching her very closely.”

“More so than after the last operation?” Page asked, and he nodded.

“She's weaker than she was. But we're hopeful about the outcome.”

“Hopeful.” Page had come to hate the word, and she had understood what he was saying. Allie was doing well, but the operation might have been too much for her. She could still die at any moment.

He left them after a few minutes and Brad sighed and sat down, and looked at her. They were like two people who had almost drowned and were lying breathless on the beach after the terror of it.

“It knocks the shit out of you, doesn't it? I feel like I climbed Everest today, and all I did was sit here,” Brad said miserably.

“I'd rather be climbing Everest,” Page said sadly, and he smiled at her.

“So would I. But she did okay. That's all we can ask for right now.” He thought of all the things he had said about not wanting her to survive if she was going to be seriously brain damaged, and suddenly he knew he didn't care. He just wanted her to live …just for another hour …another day …and maybe in the end, they'd get lucky. “Do you want to come home?” he asked, but Page shook her head.

“I want to stay here.”

“Why? They won't let you see her, you know. And they said they'd call us if there's a problem.”

“I just feel better being here.” She couldn't put it into words, but she knew she had to be there. It had been that way when Andy was in the incubator too. There were times when she knew she had to be near him. And she felt that way now. Whether they let her see Allie in the recovery room or not, she wanted to be there, in the hospital, near her. “You should go home to Andy though. He must be worried.” After his nightmare the night before, they were both more concerned about him than they had been. That afternoon she had even called his pediatrician, who said that the anxiety and the nightmares were to be expected. Allie's accident was as traumatic for him as for them, possibly even more so. The doctor had also told Page how sorry he was about Allyson's condition.

“Are you sure you don't want me to stay here with you?” Brad asked quietly before he left her, but she shook her head and thanked him. It had been difficult sitting there with him all day, there was so much she wanted to say, so many questions she wanted to ask him. How long had it been this way? Why had he lied? …why wasn't she enough? …didn't he love her? It was pointless though, and she knew it. She forced herself not to say anything. But her stomach hurt all afternoon. He looked as handsome as he always had, except that he was no longer hers, he was someone else's. And when she looked at him, it was like looking at a stranger. They had been polite to each other all day, and she'd been glad he was there, but they didn't really dare talk to each other anymore, not about anything that mattered.

“Tell Andy I love him,” she said as he left. He nodded, waved, and was gone, and told her he'd call her in the morning. And then she went back to her vigil in the quiet room, realizing that Brad had neither touched her nor kissed her when he left. Somehow, the connection between them had been broken.

Trygve stopped in to see her briefly in the waiting room with Bjorn, but he could see she wasn't in the mood for conversation. She looked worried and sad, and Bjorn wanted to know where her daughter was, and if her legs were hurt like Chloe's. She explained to him that Allie's head was hurt and not her legs, and he said he had had a headache once too, and he was very sorry to hear it about Allie.

They left Page some sandwiches, and Trygve squeezed her arm as they left, and looked at her. She looked very small and thin and very tired.

“Hang in there,” he said softly. She nodded, as tears filled her eyes, but once she was alone again, she felt more peaceful. Sometimes people's kindness made it worse. She cried every time they said how sorry they were about Allie.

It was a long night as she lay on the couch in the small room, and she had more time to think than she had had in a long time. She thought about Brad and how happy they had been …about when Allie had been born, and how sweet she had been. She closed her eyes and saw herself in their house in the city. It had been a mess when they bought it, but she had fixed it up, and it was beautiful by the time they sold it.

She thought about the house in Marin, and when Andy was born, so terrifyingly tiny. But again and again, her thoughts went back to Allyson. It was as though the child she had been were standing in the room …the things she had said …the way she had looked …and Page was not surprised when the nurse came to get her just after midnight. It was as though she knew. She had felt Allyson in the room with her, and when the nurse opened the door, Page was instantly on her feet and knew that she was needed.

“Mrs. Clarke?”

“Yes?” It was like something in a dream, she couldn't believe this was happening to her, but it was. She couldn't deny it.

“Allyson is having complications from the surgery.”

“Has the surgeon been called?” Page's face was very white as she asked her.

“He's on his way now; But I thought you might like to see her. She's still in recovery, but I'll take you up if you like.”

“I'd like that …” And then, she looked at her honestly. “Is she … is she dying?”

The nurse hesitated, but only for a moment. “She seems to be fading …she's not doing well, Mrs. Clarke, I think she might be.” And so did the recovery room nurses. They had called the surgeon immediately but they didn't even think she'd be alive by the time he got there.

“Do I have time to call my husband?” She was surprised at the sound of her own voice. She felt strangely calm, as though now she knew what to expect. She had been waiting for this, without knowing. She had been there when Allie had been born, and now she would be there when she left. Her eyes filled with tears, but she felt calm as the nurse shook her head and walked to the elevator with her.

“I think you'd better get upstairs. We'll call your husband for you if you like. We've got the number.” She hated for him to hear it from a nurse, it would have been kinder to call him herself, but she didn't want to miss Allie. This wasn't a moment that would come again, and she wanted to say good-bye to her. She knew now that no matter how far away she seemed, Allie would hear her.

They put a gown and mask on her just outside the recovery room and she followed another nurse inside, and then she saw her. She lay surrounded by machines, her head swathed in bandages as it had been before, but suddenly now she looked very small and peaceful. “Hi, sweetheart,” Page whispered as she stood next to her. She was crying but she wasn't sad suddenly, she was just happy to see her. “Daddy and I love you so much … I want you to know that …and so does Andy. He misses you, and so do I … we all do … we miss you a lot …but I know that you're always with us …” A nurse brought her a stool then and she sat down, and took one of Allie's hands in hers. It seemed very frail and clawlike. Her fingers were rigid and her arms were stiff, which was part of the reaction from her brain being so disturbed. It was also part of why Page hadn't wanted Andy to see her. The results of the accident were just too upsetting.

“We called your husband,” a nurse whispered to her, as Page quietly held Allie's hand and stroked it.

“Is he coming?” Page asked calmly. She didn't feel frightened anymore, she just felt peaceful, and closer than she ever had to Allie. They were together now, mother and child, bonded forever, in a moment that meant as much, in its own way, as her birth had. In some ways, this was no different.

It was a beginning, and an end. They had completed the circle. Sooner than they'd planned. But they were still there together.

“He said he didn't want to leave your son.” Page nodded, knowing he could have called Jane, but he was afraid to come and she understood that. She accepted it now. Brad did not want to face this moment. The nurse touched Page's shoulder then and gave her a little squeeze. She had seen a lot of this, but it was never easy, particularly with children.

“Allie?” Page whispered to her then. “Sweetheart …everything's okay …don't be scared …and I'll always be here if you need me.” She had wanted to tell her that. Allyson had always been reluctant about new places, and now she was going to one, and Page couldn't be there to help her. But she would be with her in spirit, just as Allyson would stay with her mother.

“Mrs. Clarke?” It was Dr. Hammerman, she hadn't heard him approach her. “We're losing her,” he said softly.

“I know.” She was crying and didn't even know it. She looked at him with a smile and a look in her eyes that tore his heart out.

“We did everything we could. The damage is very great. I thought maybe she'd make it this afternoon, but …I'm sorry …” He stood nearby, not to intrude, and kept an eye on the monitors. He checked her pulses himself, looked at several tapes from the monitors, and consulted with the nurses. He didn't think she would last more than a few minutes. And he felt very sorry for the mother. “Mrs. Clarke?” he asked finally. “Can we do anything? Is there anything you'd like? A priest?”

“We're fine,” she said, remembering perfectly the first moment she had held her. She had been so firm and round, a perfect little ball with a bright pink face, and a' fuzz of blond hair. Despite the ordeal her birth had been, Page had laughed and held out her arms the minute she saw her. Thinking of it made her smile now, and she turned back to Allyson and told her the story, as she had a thousand times, as two nurses wiped their eyes and went to attend to another patient.

The surgeon continued to keep an eye on her, and it was an hour after he arrived when he checked the monitors again, and found that nothing had changed. She had not improved, but she was no worse. From somewhere deep within, Al-lie was fighting.

Page just went on sitting there, holding her hand, and talking quietly to her. In her heart, she had opened the doors, and let her go. She had no right to hang on to her, if she wasn't meant to keep her. She was like an angel now, and just being near her made Page feel happy.

“I love you, sweetheart.” She couldn't say it often enough, it was as though she needed to tell her a thousand times before she left them. “I love you, Allie …”A part of Page still expected her to wake up and smile, and say, “I love you, too, Mom,” but she knew she wouldn't.

Dr. Hammerman kept a close watch on her, and now and then he felt her hands, adjusted a machine, checked the respirator, and then he left them. Page had been there for almost two hours by then, and she was almost sorry Brad hadn't come. He needed to say good-bye to her too. She was startled when Dr. Hammerman approached her, and spoke to her in a whisper.

“Do you see that machine?” He pointed to one of the monitors as Page nodded. “Her pulse is getting stronger again. She gave us quite a scare …but I have to tell you, I think she's turning around on us.” Page's eyes filled with tears and all she could think of was the time Allyson had fallen in a swimming pool and almost drowned. By the time she got her hands on her all she wanted to do was spank her for the terrible fright she had given them. She looked at her now, grinning through her tears, wishing that she were well enough to shake or spank or kiss or hold or cry with.

“Are you sure?”

“Let's watch her.”

Page continued to sit next to her, and talked to her, she reminded her of the swimming pool and how scared they had been. Allie had only been four or five. And then she gave her mother another scare, riding her bike into traffic in Ross when Page was pregnant with Andy. She told her that story too, and reminded her again and again how much she loved her.

And as the sun came up slowly over the Marin hills, Allyson seemed to almost sigh and settle into a peaceful sleep. It was as though she had been somewhere and back, and now she was very tired. Page could almost feel her move into a different space. There was no longer that ephemeral feeling of her leaving them. She had settled in again, and decided not to desert them.

“My business is filled with miracles,” Dr. Hammerman said with a slow smile, and the nurses stood nearby whispering and watching. They had all been sure the Clarke girl would be gone before morning. “This young lady has a lot of fight. She's not ready to give up yet …and neither am I.”

“Thank you,” Page said, her emotions overwhelming her. It had been the most extraordinary night of her life. She had been terrified, and yet not afraid at all. She had known Allie was leaving them, and yet she was happy for her, and relieved, even though it was sad for them. She had almost felt her leaving this place, and then returning to them. And as she looked at her, and kissed her daughter's fingertips, she knew that nothing would ever frighten her again. She felt more peaceful than she had in years. They had been blessed, and as Page finally left the hospital to go home, she was awestruck by the power of the blessing. She had felt the hand of God near them all night, and she had felt safer than she ever had before, and as though Allyson were safe forever. Page was more grateful than she had ever been, and completely at peace as she drove home to Ross in the early morning sunlight.

CHAPTER 9

For the rest of the day, Page felt as though her life had been transformed. She had never felt as light or as happy. It was impossible to explain, or to describe, but it was as though she would never be afraid again, or unhappy. The miseries around her didn't matter anymore, she felt overwhelmingly calm, and at peace with the world around her.

Even Brad could see a change. She didn't look tired or upset, and although she had been awake all night, she looked refreshed and almost luminous as she made them breakfast.

He was deeply relieved that Allyson had made it through the night, and he was immediately moved by what Page told him. He took Andy to school, and told Page he'd see her at dinner that night. And after he left, she called her mother, and told her the latest news of Ally son. Her mother offered to come out again, and once again seemed to miss the point about everything, but for once it didn't bother Page. She still felt peaceful and happy when she hung up and promised to call again in a few days. She had never felt as close to Allyson, and she knew without a moment's doubt that Allie was safe and in God's hands. For once Page didn't feel as though she had to be at the hospital every moment.

She took a shower and went to bed, and fell into a deep sleep, and she awoke in time to dress and stop at the hospital briefly before she picked up Andy. Allyson was back in the ICU by then, and Page felt as though they had taken a long voyage together the night before. She sat down next to her and took her hand in her own, and spoke softly.

“Hello, sweetheart …welcome back …” She knew that somewhere Allie would know what she meant, in her heart, in her soul, wherever it was that they had been together. “I love you an awful lot …you fooled me last night. I'm glad you did though.” She could almost feel Allie smile, it was a warmth deep in her heart. It was as though she could feel her now, as though they could communicate without words but only with feelings. “I need you here, Allie … we all do …you've got to hurry up and get well now. We miss you.” She sat and talked to her for a while, and felt perfectly at ease when she left her.

Trygve was just on his way into the hospital when she was leaving, and he noticed the change in her. There was a fresh bounce in her step, her hair looked great, and she was smiling broadly for the first time in days.

“My God, what happened to you?”

“I don't know …we'll talk about it sometime.”

“How is she?” He looked concerned.

“Better. The same. She came through the surgery yesterday, and after a little scare last night, they say she's stable, that's something.” But there was much more to tell, it was just too much to try to say in a hallway. “Chloe's asleep, by the way, I just saw her. But she was awake when I came in. She was complaining a lot, which must be a good sign, and she looks better.”

“Thank God. Are you coming back?” he asked with interest.

She shook her head. “I don't think so. I want to pick Andy up and take him to baseball. And I thought I'd try and stay home for dinner, unless Miss Allyson pulls our chain again.” But Page felt absolutely certain she wouldn't. Whatever happened, she knew that another moment like that would never come again. Something like that happened once in a lifetime.

“I'll see you tomorrow then.” He looked disappointed. They kept each other company in ICU, and brightened the difficult moments.

“I'll be in after I drop Andy off at school in the morning.” She smiled and left him then, and went to pick up Andy.

They had a nice time that afternoon, and he did well at the game, although not as well as usual. He was still upset, but even he responded to Page's calm, and he cuddled up next to her in the car with an ice cream. It reminded her suddenly of Saturday. It was hard to believe that only five days before, their lives had been normal. It had been five days since the accident, four since the bottom had fallen out of her life with Brad, and it felt like a lifetime.

He didn't come home for dinner that night, but this time he called and said he had to work late at the office, and it would be “easier” to stay in the city. She knew what that meant, but at least he had called her and she wouldn't worry, and she could give some excuse to Andy. She was surprised by how little it bothered her. She was happy to be at home with her son, and relieved that there had been no additional crisis with Allie.

She put Andy to bed and called Jane, who had gathered a very disturbing piece of information. She had talked to a friend of hers in the city that day, a woman who had known Laura Hutchinson for years. She said she'd had a drinking problem ever since she was in her teens. She had gotten treatment for it years before, and as far as the friend knew, she hadn't slipped since then. “But what if something's changed?” Jane asked in a worried tone. “What if she's drinking again, or drank that night?” They would never know. Page listened to what Jane said, and mulled it over. It was all gossip, all conjecture, all wanting to blame someone. But none of it would change what had happened.

“She's probably clean,” Page said in a spirit of fairness.

“If she isn't, you'll be reading about it one of these days in the tabloids,” Jane said. “The papers certainly seemed interested in her when it happened.”

“I hope for her sake that's not the case,” Page said quietly. “I hope she's fine. I don't think gossip helps anyone.”

“I just thought you'd be interested in hearing her history,” Jane said. She'd been very excited by the information. What if it had been the older woman's fault, and not Phillip's?

“It's not really fair to judge her by a problem she had that long ago,” Page said to her friend. “Anyway, thanks for the information.”

“I'll let you know if I hear anything else.” And then they exchanged the usual information about Allie. There never seemed to be time to talk about anything else these days, and afterward Page paid some bills and caught up on some mail. It was the first time all week that she had taken a few moments to catch up on things, and it felt good to do that.

The next morning she took Andy to school, and then went back to the hospital to see Allie. In the past two days, she felt as though she had accomplished some things. She had spent some time with Andy, which he had needed desperately. And she felt calmer than she had before. She knew now that if this was going to be a long haul, she'd have to keep her wits about her, and her strength up.

Allie was still holding her own when Page got to the hospital shortly before nine o'clock in the morning and the nurses all smiled cautiously when they saw her. They all knew how close Allyson had come to dying the night of her surgery, and suddenly it made every moment, every day, more of a gift and infinitely more precious.

“How is she?” Page asked hesitantly. She had called several times since the night before, and they had assured her that nothing had changed. She was still stable.

“About the same.” The nurse smiled at her. She was a woman about the same age as Page with a good head, a warm heart, and a great sense of humor. Her name was Frances. “Dr. Hammerman saw her an hour ago, and he seemed satisfied with her progress.”

“Has the swelling gone down any?” It was impossible to see under the enormous dressing, but she seemed to be resting more peacefully, and her color was a little better.

“A little bit. The surgery seems to have reduced the pressure.” Page nodded and sat down next to her, she took Allie's hand as she always did, and began speaking to her softly. There was no visible change since the day before, but Page still felt better about everything. She was better able to accept what was happening, and she was even less angry with Brad. She couldn't explain why, but she knew she had changed after her experience the other night with Allie.

When Trygve showed up at ten with a bag of croissants for her, he noticed the change in her again too.

“You look happier than you have all week,” Trygve said with a smile. “It's nice to see it.” People had a remarkable way of adjusting to anything. He felt better himself, after six days of visiting Chloe. She was being moved out of ICU that afternoon, and in a few more weeks she'd come home. It had been a long week, but at least they had all gotten through it.

Page waved when they left the ICU, and when she left the hospital later that day, she stopped in to see Chloe. She was less groggy now, although she was still in considerable pain. But her room was filled with flowers, and a few of her closest friends had come to see her. Trygve was standing outside the room, taking a breather and leaving the kids to visit without him. It was the first time Chloe had seen friends since the accident. Until then she had only seen her father and brothers. Jamie Applegate had called and asked to see her too, and Trygve had asked him to wait another day until the weekend. Jamie had been very polite to him, very concerned, and he was very anxious to see Chloe. The largest bouquet of all, which arrived the moment she moved into her room, was from Jamie and his parents.

“Things are looking up.” Page smiled at him. It was nice to see him looking relieved and more cheerful.

“I'm not so sure.” Trygve smiled ruefully. “Maybe phase two won't be so easy. She wants her music, her friends, she wants to go home next week, which is impossible, and she wants me to wash her hair.” But they both knew how thrilled he was to be having these problems, and not those related to her survival.

“You're very lucky,” Page said with a quiet smile. She would have liked to have the same problems he did.

“I know,” he said gently. “I hear you almost lost Allie the night of the surgery.” One of the nurses had told him the whole story.

She nodded, not quite sure how to explain it to him without sounding crazy. “It was the strangest experience I've ever had. I knew what was happening. I felt it before they even called me. I was sure she was about to die, and so were they …I've never felt closer to her … I remembered every day, every hour, every minute … I thought of things I'd forgotten for years, and then suddenly I could feel things change … I could feel her come back from a great distance. And I've never felt anything as powerful, or as peaceful. It was incredible.” She still felt awed by it, and he could see it in her eyes as she told him.

“You hear about things like that …thank God she came back,” he said, looking at Page, almost wishing he could have been there with her. The nurse had also told him they'd called Brad, and he had never come to be with her.

“She surprised us all,” Page said with a warm smile.

“I hope she continues to do that.”

“Me too,” Page said softly.

“How's Andy holding up?”

“Not so great. He's been having nightmares,” she lowered her voice not to embarrass him, even though he wasn't there, but he would have hated anyone to know, “and wetting the bed. I think he's really shaken up over all this, but I don't want him to see her.”

“I agree.” Allie still looked terrible. No matter how stable her situation had become since the second surgery, she still looked terrifying to those who saw her. Even Chloe had been shocked the first time she had been aware of it, and she had sobbed when she understood it was Allie. At first, she hadn't even known it. “It would be too traumatic for him.”

“Actually, he's having a hard time with us too.” She hesitated for a long moment, staring down the hall, and then she looked up at him. “Things are getting pretty rough with Brad, and Andy knows it. He's not coming home much these days. He …uh …actually, he's talking about moving out,” she said almost calmly. There was the smallest tremor in her voice as she said it, but she surprised herself by how smoothly she said the words. After sixteen years, he was leaving her. In fact, for all intents and purposes he had already left her. He had called her that morning and told her not to expect him home for the weekend.

“Poor kid. That's a lot to handle all in one week,” Trygve said emphatically.

“Yeah, except I haven't told him. But he knows something's up, and he's very worried.”

“I didn't mean Andy when I said 'poor kid,' I meant you. You've really been through it. At first it just sounded like Brad was hysterical after the accident, but it sounds like things are a little more complicated than that.” He was sorry to hear it.

“They are. He's been involved with someone else for eight months. He seems to be in love with her. I missed that somehow. Too busy doing murals and car pools, I guess.” She tried to make light of it, but she didn't convince him. He stood very near her, and watched her.

“I know what that feels like, and it's not good,” he said softly.

She shrugged, wanting to make light of it, but she couldn't. “I didn't even suspect …can you imagine that? I feel so stupid….” And hurt, and cheated, and bereft …and lonely.

“We're all stupid sometimes. Those things are pretty hard to face. Everyone in Marin County knew about Dana, and I was still trying to pretend we had a marriage.”

“Yeah … me too….” Her eyes were damp when she looked at him and he wished he could put his arms around her. But it was different somehow when they were talking about Brad, and not Allie. “It's funny how it all happens at once …Allie …Brad …it's kind of a shock …and poor Andy is trying to cope with all of it. So am I, but I'm supposed to be the grown-up.”

“Forget that, kick him in the shins if you want to.” She laughed at the idea, and the image.

“I think we just about did for most of this week. I can't believe how bad it was, and then when Allie almost died, suddenly I got a different perspective … it didn't seem quite as catastrophic anymore, Brad I mean, it's just something we have to resolve …and the accident is something I have to live through. I feel stronger now, though I'm not quite sure why.”

“You look it. The mind is an extraordinary thing. We always find the resources we need there.” She nodded, feeling comfortable and close to him, and he looked at her almost shyly then with a question. “What are you and Andy doing tomorrow afternoon?”

“I'm not sure, he doesn't have a baseball game for once' and I was going to leave him with my neighbor. Brad won't be around but I haven't told Andy yet. I don't want to leave Allie alone all day. I really hadn't figured it out yet. Why? What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that it would be nice if the two of you came for lunch. Bjorn loves kids Andy's age, and they might get along okay. If they do, you could leave him with me when you go to the hospital, and pick him up again after dinner, or even come back and join us.” It was quite an invitation, and she was touched that he had asked her.

“That sounds like a lot of trouble for you. Are you sure you want us? What about Chloe?”

“I promised Bjorn we'd come over tomorrow morning and see her, and then go home and play. Two of Chloe's friends said they would visit and Jamie's going to visit her too. I thought I'd come back again in the evening.”

“Sounds like a full day for you.” She was hesitating, but his eyes pleaded with her to come. He enjoyed her company, and he liked the boy, and they both needed a break from the grimness of the situation. It had been a rough week for both of them, and he knew she needed a breather as much as he did.

“Honestly, Page, we'd enjoy it …and maybe Andy would too.” It might also distract him from wanting his father.

“I'd enjoy it too,” she said softly. “Okay …and thank you….”

The two girls who'd been visiting Chloe left the room, which was his signal to go back in, and he told her to come at noon the next day, with Andy.

“And tell him to bring his mitt. Bjorn loves to play baseball.”

“PU tell him.” She smiled and waved, and then she went home and told Andy about the plans, and that Brad had to go away for the weekend on business.

“On Saturday and Sunday}” he asked suspiciously, but he didn't question her further.

She tried to explain Bjorn to him, and he wasn't frightened but intrigued. He knew Bjorn, but he'd never played with him before. He said there was a boy like him at school, but they had put him in special classes.

But she and Andy were both surprised by how smoothly it all went the next day. Bjorn had helped to make lunch, he had made really good hamburgers and french fries, and Trygve had made hot dogs and potato salad, and sliced tomatoes. Nick had gone back to school at USC, but Bjorn said he made the best hot dogs in the whole family, much better than their Dad's. He said it with great seriousness, and Andy laughed toothlessly, and helped himself to a hot dog.

“What happened to your teeth?” Bjorn asked, intrigued.

“They fell out,” Andy explained, looking nonplussed. He understood better about Bjorn now, and didn't think it remarkable that he had Down syndrome. He was intrigued by the fact that he was eighteen though. He was the oldest child Andy had ever played with.

“Will the dentist give you new ones?” Bjorn asked with continued interest. “I broke one last year, and the dentist fixed it.” He showed Andy which one, and Andy nodded solemnly, it looked just like the others.

“No, mine will just grow back in. Yours probably did at my age, too. You just don't remember.”

“Yeah. Maybe I wasn't paying attention.” Page and Trygve were watching them, intrigued. They were getting on splendidly, like two old pals, sitting on deck chairs in the spring sunshine. “You play baseball?” Bjorn asked, looking at him.

“Yup,” Andy said with another smile, helping himself to a hamburger this time.

“Me too. I like bowling too. You like bowling?”

“I've never been,” Andy confessed. “My Mom says I'm not big enough yet. She says the balls are too heavy.”

Bjorn nodded. It made sense to him. “They're heavy for me too, but my Dad takes me…. Sometimes I go with Nick … or Chloe. Chloe's sick. She broke her leg last week. But she'll be coming home soon.”

“Yeah,” Andy nodded, looking serious, “my sister's sick too. She hit her head in a car accident.”

“Did she break it?” Bjorn looked sorry for him, it was bad when your sister was hurt. He had cried when he'd gone to see Chloe.

“Yeah, sort of. I haven't been to see her yet, she still feels too yucky.”

“Oh.” Bjorn was pleased that they had a common bond. They both liked to play baseball, and had sick sisters. “I'm in the Special Olympics. My Dad does it with me.”

“That's nice. What do you do there?” Bjorn explained to him how much he loved basketball and long jump, as Trygve and Page walked away and sat down across the garden.

“I'd say it's a hit.” Trygve smiled. “Andy is just about the right age. Bjorn is somewhere between ten and twelve, but he has a real soft spot for younger kids. Andy's a nice boy.” Trygve had been touched by the warm, respectful way Andy had talked to Bjorn, and it was obvious that he liked him. “You're lucky.”

“We both are. They're all good kids. I just wish that two young ladies we know hadn't told a lie last Saturday night and gotten themselves in a hell of a lot of trouble,” she said, watching their brothers—it was hard to believe that only a week had gone by since fate had torn their lives apart stem to stern, and then thrown them together. All week she had bared her soul to him, and she had paid no attention at all to how he looked. But now she realized that he was actually very good-looking.

“Sometimes, I wish I could turn the clock back,” he said quietly, and then looked at her. She had stretched out on a lounge chair, her hair fanned out on her shoulders, and her face turned to the sun. It felt wonderful to be there.

“I'm not sure turning the clock back is the answer …maybe ahead would be better, but very fast, so you get past all the bad parts.” She smiled as she said it.

“The bad parts seem to take forever, don't they?” They both laughed, thinking how true that was.

“I wouldn't mind speeding up right now to the part where Allie gets better.” She sighed, thinking about it.

“She will,” he said encouragingly. She had lived a week past the accident, and as the doctors said, that was hopeful. “But it may be a long haul. Have you thought about that?”

“Nothing but. The doctor said it might be years before she's 'normal,' whatever that is.”

“It might. I don't know about those things, but I know what it was like with Bjorn. He wore diapers until he was six, and he still had accidents until he was eleven. I worried about street traffic constantly, he burned himself on the stove trying to cook something when he was twelve. It took a long, long time to get where he is now, and a lot of patience and hard work, on his part as well as mine, and off and on I had some great people to help me. You may need that too, you may have to start from scratch with Allie.” He didn't say it, but they both knew that it was possible Allie would never be normal. She might be even less capable than Bjorn, if she recovered.

“It's pretty frightening to think about …but I'd rather have her that way than not at all.”

“I know. I understand that.” It was very comforting talking to someone who understood, and she hated to leave to go to the hospital that afternoon. But she didn't want to leave Allie alone, and she had promised to take some things to Chloe. She wanted magazines, cookies, and her makeup. She was definitely feeling better, and she said the food in the hospital was disgusting.

The boys were playing baseball on the front lawn when Page left for the hospital, and Trygve waved as she drove away. She felt happy for the first time in ages. No matter what else was happening, at least he was there for her, he had become a good friend, and her time with him was an island of calm in a sea of terror.

Everything was peaceful at the hospital that day. Allie was still deep in sleep, the respirator breathing for her, and her condition listed as critical but stable. Page sat next to her as she always did, talking quietly and telling her what was going on, and reminding her of how much they loved her. When she took a break from Allie, she went to Chloe's room, and found Jamie Applegate visiting her. He had brought a stack of CD's, his own player to lend to her, and another bunch of flowers. And he was extremely polite to Page and asked how soon he could visit Allie.

“Not for a while,” she explained. It was too soon for her to have visitors and it would have been too upsetting to him. As a parent she knew that. She promised to let him know as soon as he could, and left the two young people listening to music.

Page went back to pick Andy up late that afternoon, the boys were screaming with laughter playing cards. They were playing slapjack, and they were both cheating, and Trygve was busy making dinner.

“I'm making my famous Norwegian stew, pasta, and Swedish meatballs.”

“The meatballs are pretty good,” Bjorn volunteered as he flew through the kitchen with Andy at his heels. They were on their way upstairs to watch a movie.

“I don't think Andy'll leave. You'll have to stay for dinner.” Trygve grinned and she laughed, and offered to help him. She set the table for him, and cooked the pasta and some mushrooms. The stew actually smelled pretty good, and he let her try one of the meatballs. Bjorn was right. They were delicious. He was a good cook, a good friend, and fun to be with.

“How was Chloe?” he inquired, checking on his stew, and Page smiled.

“Fine. Jamie was there. He's a nice kid. He seems very nervous, and apologetic. But he brought her a stack of CD's and they were listening to music when I left.” Her face got more serious then, as she thought of it. “It made me lonely for Allie. Just last week, a week ago tonight in fact, she was trying to con me out of my favorite sweater.” The pink one had been destroyed, of course, it had been cut off her in shreds at Marin General. Tonight was the first time it had even crossed Page's mind. She didn't want her sweater back, just her daughter.

“I wish I could do something to make it easier for you,” he said as they sat down at the kitchen table with a glass of wine, waiting for the stew.

“You already have. I don't think my life is going to be easy for a long time. At this rate, Brad'll move out sooner or later, and that'll be rough …especially on Andy …and me too …and whatever happens with Allie, that won't be easy either.” It could be nightmarish, or at best it would take a long time, and be heartbreaking at times. But that was just the way life was sometimes, and she was willing to accept that. This week had taught her many things, among them acceptance, and patience.

“How do you think Andy will take it if Brad leaves?”

“I think it'll be pretty awful. And I don't think it's 'if but 'when.' That's becoming pretty clear now.”

“Kids surprise you sometimes. I think often they know things before we tell them.”

“Maybe so.” The boys ran through the kitchen again then, and both seemed to be having a great time with each other. Trygve called them to the table five minutes later.

“Meatball time, guys!” he called, and made them wash their hands when they got there. They said grace at the table, which surprised Page, but it was also comforting to hear it. It was a far cry from her own family when she'd been growing up. They had never said grace, and only went to church on major occasions. It startled her to discover that Trygve was religious.

“I go to Sunday school,” Bjorn explained to his new friend. “They teach me about God. He's a nice guy. You'd like him.” Page repressed a smile, as she glanced across the table at Trygve and he was smiling too.

The two boys chatted on, and Page and Trygve went outside afterward. It was Bjorn's job to clean up after dinner, and Andy stayed to help him.

“He's a great kid,” she said as they sat down in chairs on the lawn. It was a beautiful evening, and there was a deep orange sunset on the Marin hills that they both watched for a long time in silence.

“He is,” Trygve agreed. “Fortunately, Nick and Chloe think so too. One day they'll have to keep an eye on him, when I'm gone. I've thought about trying to put him in an apartment eventually, but I don't think he's ready.”

It was something she might have to think about now too. If Allie wasn't able to take care of herself, one day Andy would have to be responsible for his sister. It was a problem that had never occurred to her before, but special children had special needs. Suddenly, there were whole new worlds for her to consider.

“It was fun having you here today.” Trygve smiled. “We really enjoyed it, Page.”

“So did we,” she said softly. “You actually gave us a place to relax and have a good time, in the middle of this mess our life has turned into.”

“It won't be a mess forever,” he said knowingly, wanting to help her through it.

“It feels like it right now. I don't even know which way to turn. So much is changing so fast I can't even catch my breath anymore. And the things I thought were so important last week aren't even part of my life now. It's hard to know what to make of it,” she said slowly, and he took her hand in his and held it. He didn't want to frighten her, and he knew this was the wrong time, but something about her kept making him want to protect her.

“You're doing all the right things. You just have to go step by step and move very slowly.” But Page laughed at him.

“Believe me, I'm the only thing moving slowly right now. The rest of my life is falling apart so fast I don't even have time to pick up the pieces.” He laughed at what she said, and they sat together and watched the sunset.

“Life seems so simple sometimes, but it's never as simple as it looks, is it?” he asked as the sun slipped slowly behind the hills. “We think we have everything worked out, and then the whole damn thing falls apart. The only good thing is that when we get it all put back together again, it's usually better.”

“I wish I believed that,” she said, looking at him, and liking what she saw there, he was genuine and whole and incredibly decent.

“I'm much happier than I used to be,” he said honestly to her. “I never thought I would be, but I am. And I don't even give a damn if I get married again. I'd like to, I'd even like to have more kids, but you know what … if the right woman doesn't come along, I'm perfectly happy the way things are now. I'm happy with my kids, my work … I used to be half crazed all the time, trying to make things work with Dana …and I never quite could. She always managed to make it impossible, and I was always miserable and feeling like I'd failed. I don't feel that way anymore. I like my life. I feel good about myself and my kids. Pretty soon you'll feel that way too. You have wonderful children, you're talented as hell, and you're a great person. You deserve to be happy, Page, and one of these days, with or without a man, you will be.”

“Would you sign that in blood, please? It would be reassuring.”

“I'd love to. It'll get better, you'll see.”

“I can hardly wait,” she said softly, and he seemed to watch her for a long time. And then, he leaned toward her and suddenly she wondered if he was going to kiss her. But at that exact moment, the two boys exploded onto the lawn and wanted to play baseball.

“Nothing doing, you guys,” Trygve said firmly. The moment had passed, and Page wondered if she had dreamed it. “Bjorn, it's too late for baseball. Why don't you go inside and watch TV. Pretty soon it'll be bedtime.” And then he turned to Page. “Do you want to leave Andy here tonight? Are you going back to the hospital?”

“I thought I'd go home, Brad said he might come over and get him tomorrow. If he does, I'll spend more time with Allie then. Are you going back tonight to see Chloe?” Their whole life had been taken over by trips to the hospital, and it took a lot of rearranging and juggling to meet everyone else's needs at the same time. At times it was utterly exhausting.

“I'll go back in a while,” he said softly.

“We should go home,” Page said regretfully, and they sat side by side for a while, comfortable in the night air, and at ease with each other. He didn't make a move toward her again, and on the way home, she decided that she'd imagined it. He was very independent, and he had his own life. And as Allyson had said the week before, and he had confirmed since, he seemed perfectly happy without a woman in his life. Dana had burned him very badly.

But now Brad had burned her too. And it was odd to realize that she was actually attracted to Trygve. She had never even thought of it before, but after a week of being close to him so much, she had to admit that she thought he was not only good-looking, but appealing. She was thinking about him with a smile, in spite of herself, when Andy spoke up from the backseat and took her breath away with his question.

“Who is Stephanie?”

“What do you mean?” Her heart pounded at the question.

“I heard you shouting at Daddy about her the other day. And then I heard him call her.”

“I think she's someone he works with,” Page said, with absolutely no expression in her voice. Trygve was right. Kids knew more than one thought. She wondered just how much Andy had overheard the night of his nightmare.

“Is she nice?” he persisted.

“I don't know her.” Page's voice had no expression.

“Then why did you shout at Daddy about her?” He was pressing her and she was getting angry.

“I wasn't shouting at Daddy, and I don't want to talk about this.”

“Why not? She sounded nice on the phone.”

“When?” Page felt a blow to her solar plexus.

Even though she knew about her now, she didn't like hearing about her from Andy.

“She called yesterday, when you were at the hospital. She told me to tell Daddy she called.”

“And did you?”

“I forgot. I hope he won't get mad at me.”

“I'm sure he won't,” Page said, but her face told its own tale, as she parked in the driveway and they walked into the empty house.

“Are you mad at me?” Andy asked worriedly as she helped him undress, and she had to take a deep breath and look at him. There was no point being angry at him for what his father was doing.

“No, sweetheart, I'm not mad at you. I'm just tired.”

“You're always tired, Mommy …ever since Allie's accident.”

“Well, it's been hard for all of us. You too. And I know that.”

“Are you mad at Daddy?”

“Sometimes. Most of the time we're just tired and worried about Allie. We're not mad at you. You have nothing to do with any of this.”

“Are you mad at Stephanie?” He was trying to figure it all out, and he was bright for his age, brighter than he knew, as Page sighed at the question.

“I don't even know her.” It was the truth. It was Brad she had to be angry at, Brad who had cheated on her, who had lied, who had broken her heart. It was all Brad's fault, not the fault of the girl he'd slept with. “I'm not really mad at anyone, sweetheart. Not even Daddy.”

“Good.” He smiled at her then, relieved, and she knew that soon they'd have to say something to him, particularly if Brad was going to move out in the near future. “I like Bjorn.”

“Me too. He's a nice boy.”

“He's the oldest friend I have. He's eighteen, and he's special.”

“He is special,” she smiled, “and so are you. I love you, sweetheart.” She kissed him and put him to bed, and then she lay on the bed in her own room, thinking how life had changed in one brief week, how simple it had all been a week ago, with Allie out for dinner with the Thorensens, and Brad in Cleveland. It had all seemed so simple. And now it no longer was. The teenagers' lies had all but killed them.

CHAPTER 10

Page spent most of Sunday at the hospital, after leaving Andy at a school friend's. Brad had called that morning to say he didn't have time to see him. But after his initial disappointment, Andy had been happy to go to his friend's house.

Trygve visited Page at the ICU waiting room for a few minutes to bring her some sandwiches and cookies, and then went back to Chloe, who had visitors. She was reveling in seeing young people again, and it seemed to make her feel better.

“Bjorn was ecstatic about yesterday, by the way,” Trygve told Page as he shared a sandwich with her outside the ICU. He seemed happy to see her, but she was convinced now that her illusion had been just that. He was friendly, but not romantic.

“So was Andy. He had a great time. He would have invited Bjorn over today, except that he had to go to a friend's. Brad called to tell him he couldn't see him.”

“Bjorn had to do his homework anyway. How was Andy when Brad canceled?”

“Not great, but he adjusted.”

They chatted for a little while, and then he went back to Chloe, and when Page went home that afternoon, she picked up Andy on the way home, and they stopped for ice cream. In a world where everything had changed overnight, the smallest rituals brought them both comfort.

And they were both surprised when Brad arrived shortly after they got home, and said he was staying for dinner. He asked how Allie was, and Page told him the truth. She was still alive, but there was still no improvement.

They ate dinner quietly in the kitchen, just the three of them, and she was startled afterward when she saw Brad packing a suitcase.

“Are you moving out?” she asked, sounding as though she was expecting it, which saddened both of them. In a mere eight days, this was where they had come to.

“I'm going to Chicago on business.” He didn't tell her Stephanie was going with him. This time, she had insisted.

“When are you going?” she asked quietly, ready for anything.

“Tonight. I'm taking the red-eye.”

“What about Allie?” What if she failed again? Could he live with that? But she already knew the answer to her question.

“I have to. There's an important deal I have to close.” He said it calmly, and she couldn't stop herself.

“For real, or like the one in Cleveland?”

“Don't start that, Page,” he said harshly, “I mean it.”

“So do I.” She no longer trusted him, but it was no longer an issue.

“I still have a job, you know. Accident or no, I still have to work. And my work takes me to other cities.”

“I know that,” she said, and left the room. He kissed Andy good-bye before he left, and left the name and number of his hotel on the pad in the kitchen. He was going for three days and she didn't really mind it. In some ways, his being gone would ease the tension between them.

“I'll be back on Wednesday,” he said just before he left, and he said nothing more to her. Not “I love you.” Not “good-bye.” He just closed the door, and drove down the driveway. He had just enough time to pick Stephanie up on the way to the airport.

“Are you mad at him?” Andy asked nervously. He had heard their tone of voice when they talked, and he hated it. He had put his pillow over his ears so he didn't have to hear them in case they started yelling.

“No, I'm not mad at him,” she confirmed, but her face said something different.

She read for a while after he left, trying not to think of all the things that had changed. There were too many to think of. She turned off the light and went to bed, after calling the hospital to check on Allie.

And the next morning, after dropping Andy off at school, she went to see her, and settled in for the day in ICU. Frances, the head nurse, knew her so well, she let her spend hours at Allie's bedside. It was becoming routine now. She had no other life, no other job, no other work, except ricocheting between Andy's needs, and her vigil at the hospital, and her fights with Brad whenever she saw him. It was incredibly claustrophobic.

She felt almost numb as she sat there, watching the machine breathe for Allie. They had taken the bandages off her eyes by then. And for an instant, she had thought she saw an eyelid move, but after watching intently for a long time, she realized that she had dreamed it. One saw things sometimes because one wanted to, but they weren't really there, they were illusions.

She sat back in her uncomfortable chair for a moment and closed her eyes, when Frances came to get her. She was waiting for the physical therapist to come so she could help move Allie's arms and legs. It was important to keep doing that so her muscles wouldn't atrophy, or her joints become too stiff to move. There was a lot to do, even with a patient in a coma.

“Mrs. Clarke?” Page jumped at the voice, startled.

“Yes?”

“There's a phone call for you. You can take it at the desk.”

“Thank you.” It was probably Brad, checking on Allyson from Chicago. He was the only person who knew where to find her, except Jane, and there was no reason for her to call. Andy was in school. But it turned out to be Ross Grammar School. They explained that they were sorry to disturb her, but it was an emergency, her son had just been injured.

“My son?” she said blankly, as though she didn't have one. Her whole body felt as though it were going into shock. “What do you mean?” Her whole being seemed to fill with panic.

“I'm sorry, Mrs. Clarke.” It was the school secretary and Page scarcely knew her. “There's been an accident … he fell off the jungle gym …” Oh God, he was dead … he had broken his back … he had a head injury too …she started to cry. She couldn't go through this again. Didn't they understand that?

“What happened?” Her voice was barely audible, and one of the nurses was watching her face and saw her turn gray at what she was hearing.

“We think he may have broken his shoulder. He's on his way to Marin General now. If you go down to the emergency room, you'll be there to meet him.”

“Fine.” She hung up the phone without saying good-bye and looked around her in panic. “My little boy …my son …he's had an accident …”

“Calm down …he's probably fine.” Frances took charge instantly and led Page to a chair and got her a drink of water. “Take it easy, Page. He's going to be fine. Where is he?”

“He's on his way here, to the emergency room.”

“I'll take you down there,” the head nurse said calmly. She arranged to leave the floor and escorted Page to the emergency room. She looked terrible, and she was shaking visibly when they got there. But Andy hadn't come in yet.

Frances left Page in the care of the emergency room staff, and a moment later, Page disappeared and went to a pay phone. It was stupid of her, she knew, but for once in her life, she couldn't manage alone. She had to call him.

He answered on the second ring, and he sounded distracted. He was probably writing. She knew he had an article due for The New Republic.“Hello?” It was Trygve.

“I'm sorry … I had to call …there's been an accident at school …” For a moment, he didn't recognize her and he thought someone was calling about Bjorn, and then he realized who it was.

“Page? Are you all right? What happened?” She sounded awful.

“I don't know,” she was crying into the phone, and making very little sense as he listened. “It's Andy …the school just called …he's hurt …he fell off the jungle gym …”She began to sob, imagining the worst again, and Trygve stood up as he listened.

“I'll come right over. Where are you?”

“I'm in the emergency room at Marin General.” It was certainly a familiar place to them both by now, and he drove there at full speed. He pulled in just as Andy was being carried out of a car by a teacher. And he was quick to reach him. The boy looked frightened and pale and as though he was in pain, but he was very definitely conscious, and in no apparent danger.

“What are you doing here, young man? This place is for sick people. You look fine to me.” Trygve examined him with his eyes as they chatted.

“I hurt my arm …and my back … I fell off the jungle gym,” he said wanly as Trygve held the door open for the teacher. He looked like the P.E. teacher, in sweats and tennis shoes with a whistle around his neck, and he looked worried about Andy.

“Your Mom's inside waiting for you.” He smiled gently, and followed them in, and he saw Page immediately. She looked terrible and she couldn't stop shaking. She started crying the moment she saw him. All the strength she had had for Allie had suddenly left her. Trygve put an arm around her and pulled her close to him, to stop the shaking, as the teacher carried the child into an examining room where a nurse was waiting to check his vital signs and examine the damage. She was cheerful and nice. At first she carefully examined him with her fingers. She could see that he had broken his arm and dislocated his shoulder. But she also looked into his eyes with a flashlight to check for a head injury.

“Wait a minute here,” Trygve teased, “you're as big a mess as Chloe. She can't walk, and now you've got a broken arm …boy, you two. I'm going to let Bjorn take care of both of you.” He grinned and Andy tried to smile through the pain, but the arm hurt a lot. They put him on a gurney to take him to X-ray, and Trygve stayed with Page every minute.

“He's going to be all right, Page. Take it easy.” He reassured her when they were doing the X ray.

“I don't know what happened,” she said, still looking deathly pale and shaking. “I panicked …I'm really sorry I called you.” But it was all she could think of when she'd heard. She needed Trygve to be there with her, just as he had been in those first nightmarish days with Allie, and ever since then. It was Trygve she wanted with her, not Brad, and realizing that surprised her. But she knew she could count on Trygve. And he was happy to be there.

“I'm not sorry you called. I'm just sorry this happened. But he'll be all right.” The teacher had gone back to school by then, and Trygve stood with Andy and held his hand when they put his shoulder back in place and set the arm, which was pretty painful. They put the arm in a sling afterward and gave him something for the pain. They wanted him to go home and stay in bed for a day, and after that he'd be as good as new. The cast had to be on for six weeks. It was a pretty nasty break, but at his age they didn't think it would cause any long-term problems.

“I'll drive you two home,” Trygve said quietly. He wouldn't have trusted Page with a tricycle at that point, let alone a car. Page agreed, but first she went back to ICU to get her bag and tell them she was leaving. Trygve also stopped by Chloe's room to give her a quick kiss and tell her he'd be back later. He told her what had happened to Andy and she sent him her love, and marveled at the bad luck that seemed to be following all of them lately.

“Tell him I'll sign his cast when I see him.”

“I will … see you later …” Trygve hurried back to the emergency room and carried Andy out to the car. He was already half asleep from the shot they'd given him, and Page had pills to take home for him. He was going to sleep away the day, which was the best thing for him.

Trygve carried Andy into the house, while Page opened doors, and he helped her undress the boy and put him to bed. He scarcely woke up while they did it, and he was asleep before his head touched the pillow. But it wasn't Andy Trygve was worried about, it was Page. She looked awful.

“I want you to lie down, too. You look like hell.”

“I just got startled, that's all … I didn't know what to expect … I thought …”

“I can see what you thought.” She looked gray. “Come on …where's your bedroom?”

She led the way and he waited until she lay down on the bed with her clothes on. “I feel silly … I'm fine.”

“You don't look it. Do you want a shot of brandy? It might do you good.” But she smiled as she shook her head, and then sat up on her bed and looked at the man who had dropped everything and run to help her.

“Thank you for being a good friend. I didn't even think before I called you. I just knew I needed you there.”

He sat down in a big easy chair near the bed, and looked at her kindly. “I'm glad you called me. You've been through enough.” And then he had a thought, but it was interesting that she hadn't called him to begin with. “Do you want to call Brad?”

She shook her head without hesitation. “I'll call him later. He's in Chicago.” And then she thought of something else. “I didn't even think about calling him when they called me in ICU.” She wanted him to know that. “All I could think of was calling you … it was almost a reflex.”

“That's an okay reflex to have,” he said gently, leaning closer to her. He was feeling things he hadn't felt in years, and she was confused by her own emotions as she watched him. “Page … I don't want to do anything you don't want …” he whispered, but suddenly it was all he could do to keep himself away from her. He felt the power of a magnet as he watched her, and she realized that she hadn't been imagining it the other night in the garden. He had been about to kiss her. As he was now. As he had wanted to for days, as they sat together, night after night, and day after day, in their unhappy vigil.

“I don't know what I want, Trygve.” She raised her big blue eyes to his honestly. “Ten days ago I thought I was happily married …then I find out it's all a lie, and my marriage is probably over …and in the midst of it all, there you are, the only person I've been able to depend on in years, the only friend I have who knows what I'm feeling …the only man I want to be with,” she whispered, looking at him as he moved closer. “I don't know where I am, or what I'm doing, or what's going to happen … I don't know anything …except … I just don't know …” Her voice drifted off in confusion, as she watched him, but she didn't stop him as he moved closer.

“Shh …you don't have to say anything …don't …”he whispered, and sat on the edge of her bed, and took her in his arms. All he wanted was to hold her as he hadn't held anyone in years, and kiss her. His lips pressed down against hers, and his tongue gently parted them and moved inside, as she felt her breath catch, and their bodies almost melt together. She was overwhelmed by what she felt, and frightened at the same time, but she knew she wanted him. This was not a game, or a revenge on Brad …this was someone who had been there for her at the worst time in her life, who hadn't let her down for a single moment, and whom she felt overwhelmingly drawn to.

“What are we going to do?” she asked as he moved away from her again, and sat looking at her in all her flushed blond beauty.

“Let's not worry about it right now. At least I know what to do to get some color back in your face. You look a lot better.” He smiled, looking very happy.

“Stop that!” She swatted him gently, but he pulled her back in his arms again, and this time he kissed her harder. He hadn't felt anything like this since long before Dana, if ever.

“I will not stop. I will never stop,” he informed her. “I'd forgotten it could be like this.”

“So had I,” she said honestly. Brad had always been so self-involved that she realized now how little he'd ever given her, emotionally or physically. Trygve took her breath away, and she giggled as they kissed again. It was a good thing Andy was sedated, but she also knew that neither of them was ready to do anything foolish. She had to settle her life with Brad before she started anything serious with Trygve, and he knew that. But this certainly changed things.

“What am I going to do?” she asked him honestly, swinging her legs back to the floor again, and looking at him like a little kid as he smiled at her. She couldn't ever remember being this happy.

“You'll figure it out eventually. It sounds like things are taking care of themselves. And I'm not rushing you … I want you to know that.” He tried to look serious, but he found he couldn't. “I'll just stand here panting and making a pest of myself until you decide you can't live without me.” They both knew that this was more than just kissing.

She grinned mischievously and this time she kissed him. The whole thing was amazing. “How did this happen?” she asked when they finally parted.

“I'm not sure. Maybe it's something in the air at ICU.” Or trauma or pain or fear, or being there for each other. He had made a tremendous difference, and she had made a difference to him too. They had been through the worst that life had to offer, and they had survived it, together, with very little help from anyone else, particularly Brad, who had done everything he could to hurt her.

“Life is amazing, isn't it?” she asked him, awed by what had happened. “I guess we'll just have to take this one step at a time. Brad hasn't figured out what he wants to do yet.”

“He probably has, but he hasn't told you. What about you? Do you know what you want to do?” Did she want him to move out? A divorce? More time to think it out? He wasn't actually sure what she wanted, he wasn't sure she was either, which was normal. The demise of their marriage was very new to her, and she didn't know what to do yet.

“Every time I see Brad, I realize how impossible it is. He's practically living with that woman. But I'm still married to him. It's hard to change all that in a single moment.”

“No one expects you to,” he said gently. He understood it all perfectly. He had been there himself. And he was willing to wait patiently while she sorted her life out. He had never met anyone like her.

They were still talking when the phone rang, and Page jumped. She couldn't imagine who was calling, unless it was the hospital about Allie. She couldn't take any more bad news though, and she closed her eyes as she answered. She felt Trygve's hand on hers, giving her strength if it was needed.

“Hello?” she said cautiously, as though she was afraid to hear it. And then she opened her eyes and shook her head. It wasn't the hospital, it was her mother. And her news wasn't good either. She had been thinking about it all weekend, and she and Alexis had decided to visit. It was obvious to them that Page needed help, even though she assured them she didn't.

“We're fine. Honestly,” she insisted, “everything's in control, and for the moment, Allyson's condition is stable.”

“That could change at a moment's notice. Alexis wants to talk to you anyway. David gave her the name of a fabulous plastic surgeon, if you need it.” They would eventually, but it was the least of their worries now. First Allie had to live, and then her brain had to recover something approaching normal function. But Alexis only had one thing on her mind: her niece's looks, and making sure that everything was perfect.

“I really think you shouldn't come out,” Page said, trying to sound calm, but she wasn't. The last thing she needed right now was her mother, let alone Alexis.

“Don't argue with me,” she said firmly. “We'll be there on Sunday.”

“Mother …you can't … I have no time to take care of you … or Alexis. I need to be with Allie, and Andy just had an accident.” She wanted to do everything she could to dissuade her.

“What?” For once her mother sounded ruffled.

“It's nothing serious, he broke his arm. But I really need to spend all my time with the children.”

“That's why we're coming, dear. We want to help you.”

Page sighed, listening to her. She didn't know what more to say. “I really think you should reconsider.”

“We'll be there on Sunday at two o'clock. Alexis will have David fax Brad the details. I'll see you then.” And before Page could say another word, she hung up, and Page sat staring at Trygve.

“You won't believe this,” she said miserably.

“Let me guess. Your mother's coming from the East. Will that be difficult for you?”

“Difficult? Are you kidding? How was Samson for Delilah? … or maybe David for Goliath? …or the asp for Cleopatra? Difficult doesn't even begin to touch it. I've been trying to keep her at bay for a week. And not only is she coming out, but she's bringing my sister.”

“Whom you hate?” he asked, trying to catch up on family history all in one lesson.

“Who hates me …but most of her energies she spends on loving herself. She is completely narcissistic. She's never had kids and she's married to a plastic surgeon in New York. At forty-two, she has had her eyes done twice, three noses, new breasts, liposuction everywhere, and a full face-lift. Everything about her is perfect. The nails, the face, the hair, the clothes, the body. She spends every moment of every day taking care of herself. She has never taken care of a living, breathing soul in her life, and neither has my mother. Let me explain the scenario to you. They are coming out so I can take care of them, and reassure them that there's nothing wrong with Al-lie, and if there is, it won't hurt, embarrass, inconvenience, or affect them.”

“You don't make them sound very helpful,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose, and amused at how she described them. His own parents were wonderful, and had been offering to fly out all week. But he had insisted they not come, since they had retired back to Norway. But looking at Page, he suddenly realized she was serious. She actually looked depressed as she stood up, speaking about her mother and sister.

“Helpful is not a key word here.”

“Where are you going?” He pulled her closer to him, and took her in his arms again.

“To set fire to my guest room,” she said despondently, but in a moment they were kissing again, and she had all but forgotten about her mother.

“I have a better idea.” His voice was hoarse and hungry, and he was kissing her neck, as she closed her eyes and savored every moment. How was it possible? In ten days, she had lost the only man she had ever loved, and now suddenly she was in the arms of another, someone who had been so decent to her, who wanted her as much as she wanted him … it didn't make sense but it was lovely …

“Not yet,” she whispered as he kissed her again, and he smiled and looked down at her.

“I know that, silly girl …I'm not a fool. We have lots of time. I'm not rushing anything.”

“Why not?” she teased him, pretending to be insulted, but he looked at her very seriously, and he meant what he said to her.

“Because I want you for a long time, if you come to me, Page. And I don't want to lose you.” He kissed her again then, and it was a long time before they pulled apart, and she reminded him that he had better leave before Andy woke up, and found them kissing in her bedroom.

He promised to come back again later that afternoon, to check on them. Maybe he'd bring Bjorn. And he promised to look in on Allie for her at the ICU. She didn't want to leave Andy for the rest of the day, and he promised to take care of all of it, and maybe even cook her dinner.

“Anything else I can do for you?” he shouted from his car before he drove away, as she stood outside and waved at him.

“Yeah,” she shouted back.

“What?” He stopped the car for a minute to hear her answer.

“Kill my mother!” He laughed and drove away, smiling like a schoolboy.

CHAPTER 11

Brad was very upset when he heard about Andy's arm, and it sounded as though he blamed Page, but he didn't say it.

“Are you sure he's all right? It's his right arm, isn't it?”

“It is, and it's a nasty break, but they said it should heal cleanly. He has to be a little more careful with the shoulder. No pitching this year, and maybe even no more baseball till next year.”

“Shit,” Brad said, sounding almost as upset as he had been about Allie. But their reactions were no longer appropriate. They were both filled up with fear and disaster. She understood perfectly why he was reacting the way he was about Andy.

“I'm sorry, Brad.”

“Yeah …”he said absently, and then remembered to ask. It had been such a relief to be in Chicago. “How's Allie?”

“The same. I haven't seen her since this morning. I stayed home with Andy.” She didn't tell him that Trygve and Bjorn had brought dinner for them, and oddly enough neither did Andy. She didn't tell him not to tell Brad anything, she wouldn't have done that to him, but it was as though he sensed there was already enough trouble with his parents.

She and Trygve had been very circumspect while they were there, but there was something warm and different now that passed between them. Just since that morning, things had changed, and it was suddenly very hard to deny their feelings.

They had sat and talked in the living room for a long time, while the boys played quietly in Andy's room with the dog. Bjorn really liked Andy's baseball cards, and his rock collection from the previous summer. Bjorn wanted to play slapjack too, but Andy was too tired.

They were both sorry to see them go, and Page let Andy sleep in her bed that night, and for once he didn't wet it. He had been having accidents ever since Allie had been hurt. But now he seemed calmer than he had in a long time, and the pain pills let him sleep peacefully until morning. And while he slept, Page lay in bed and held him for a long time, stroking his hair, and thinking about him …and Brad …and Trygve. She didn't know what she was going to do. Trygve had become a dear friend and she was very attracted to him. But Brad was her husband of sixteen years. She still couldn't bring herself to believe she would lose him, and yet in a way she already had, and she knew it. But she had never cheated on him before, and no matter how attractive Trygve was, or how difficult her situation, she didn't want to do anything she'd regret later, or start their relationship in a way that might spoil it.

But when Brad came home from Chicago on Wednesday night, he was distant and cool, and he acted as though he scarcely knew her. He stayed away Thursday night, never called, and was chilly with her on Friday night when he came home briefly. It was impossible to pretend that the marriage wasn't over. The mark of Stephanie was all over him. He was wearing different ties, new suits, and had had a different haircut. But no matter how far Brad went, she didn't want to go to Trygve on the rebound. She wanted more than anything to sort out her situation with Brad, and what they were going to do, before she did anything, but he wouldn't even discuss it. The only thing he would discuss with her now was how furious he was about her mother's visit.

“How can you let her come out here right now? And your sister on top of it! Did you hire a hairdresser to stay with us, or are you going to call 911 and have one sent over anytime she needs it?”

“All right, Brad. I'm not happy about it either.”

They were discussing it on Friday night before he went out for dinner, supposedly with clients. “How can I tell them not to come? Allie's in critical condition, and they want to see her.” It sounded reasonable, but she also knew that her mother and sister were not reasonable people. Brad had always hated them, and they really weren't fond of him either, although her mother pretended she was, but she wasn't. He knew too much about the past, her mother had always held it against her that she had told him. “I did everything I could to discourage them, but she just announced that they were coming.”

“Then you just announce to them that they can't stay here.” She could see from his expression that he meant it.

“I can't do that, Brad. They're my family,” she said uncomfortably. She had managed to run away from them finally, but she still couldn't bring herself not to see them, or keep them away completely.

“Horseshit, you can do anything you want and you know it.”

She started getting angry then. He didn't do a damn thing to help her, all he did was issue ultimatums. “Like you do, Brad? Are you afraid they might interfere with your social life, now that you've become so open about it?” The war was on again, it had actually been very restful while he was in Chicago.

“I've been busy at the office.”

“Like hell you are. And I'll bet you were real busy in Chicago.” But he wheeled on her then with an angry look that warned her not to push him any further. He was in the wrong, but he still didn't want any pressure from her. It wasn't fair, and he knew it, but he wasn't ready to do anything to change that.

“That's none of your business,” he said in a taut voice.

“Why not?”

“Things are moving too fast for me.” They were moving too fast for her too. They had moved with the speed of lightning in the last two weeks, but it wasn't her fault. “I want things to calm down before I make any major decisions.” And then he turned to her and said something that surprised her. “I've decided that I'm not ready to move out yet.” She didn't say anything as she looked at him, wondering if he'd had a change of heart, or if he was fighting with Stephanie now too, or just scared of too many changes.

“Does that have anything to do with geographies, or our marriage?” she asked, her heart giving a little leap of confusion. No matter what he had done to her in the last two weeks, he was still her husband, and maybe she still loved him.

“I don't know,” he said unhappily, but making no move toward her. “Moving out is such a big step, it scares the hell out of me. Maybe I've been a fool … I just don't know. But I don't think I could go back to the way things were either.”

They both knew that nothing would ever be the same again. She would never trust him, and they both suspected he couldn't give up Stephanie. He wondered about that most …but leaving Page meant leaving Andy. In the past week, he had thought about that a lot, and the pain of it almost killed him. Stephanie didn't seem to understand that. She said Andy could visit them, but it wasn't the same thing, and Brad knew it. “I just don't have any of the answers.” He looked at Page unhappily. “I don't know which way to turn.” He sat down on the bed and ran a hand through his hair, as Page watched him. She was leery of him now after he had hurt her so much, and was continuing to do so daily.

“Maybe we should wait and see.” Maybe some of it was a reaction to the accident, but she knew now that a lot of it wasn't. “Want to try seeing a counselor?” Page asked hesitantly, not sure she wanted to herself, but Brad's answer was quick and certain.

“No.” He shook his head. Not if it meant giving up Stephanie. He wasn't willing to do that. He didn't want to leave Page yet, but he didn't want to lose Stephanie either. Stephanie was more important to him. She seemed to embody youth and hope and the future, almost like Allie. But even he knew that his life was a mess, and everything he touched confused him.

“I don't know what else to suggest. Other than an attorney.”

“Neither do I.” He looked at her honestly. “Can you go on living like this for a while, or is it too hard on you?”

“I'm not sure. I couldn't do it forever. Or maybe even for very long. Not much longer.”

“Neither can I,” he said, looking tired. Stephanie was pushing him like crazy to leave Page, and marry her, and he knew he needed to make a decision.

And in a way, everything he'd shared with Page was being destroyed moment by moment. Their marriage, their child, their relationship, their trust. In an odd way, to him, Page seemed like the past, and Stephanie the future. But when they lay in bed that night, the past began to stir him.

Andy was asleep, and their door was closed. Page was reading quietly in bed, ignoring him, and suddenly he was kissing her as he hadn't in months, with a passion and a fire she scarcely remembered. At first, she resisted him, but he was so forceful and so aroused, that before she knew what had happened to her, Brad had her nightgown pushed up and pressed himself against her. And much as she didn't want to make love to him again, she found her resistance melting. He was, after all, still her husband, and only weeks before she had thought that she still loved him.

And then slowly, exquisitely, he entered her, and as he did his passion died instantly along with his erection. He tried to cover it for a while, and then to revive the flames, but it was obvious that his confusion and his pain had affected more than just their marriage.

“I'm sorry,” he said hoarsely as he lay on the bed next to her, furious at what had happened. She was still breathless, and bitterly annoyed at herself for giving in to him. In the context of what was happening to their lives, it seemed wrong to sleep with him, even though he was still her husband. And she didn't want to be part of a team sleeping with him, or open herself up to getting hurt by him again, as he had already hurt her.

“You can't lie to your body, Brad,” she said sadly. “Maybe that's your answer.”

“I feel like a fool,” he said angrily, as he stalked across the room, his handsome form looking better than ever. But she had to deal with reality now, and no matter how much she had once loved him, it was over. For now, at least, and maybe forever.

“Maybe you'd better make up your mind before we screw things up worse than they are,” she said reasonably, and he nodded. This was ridiculous, and not good for anyone. And it seemed odd to him that in the past year, he had frequently gone straight from Stephanie's bed to hers, with only a few hours breather, and it had never been a problem. But now that she knew, it changed everything. He was almost sorry he had told her, except that he had needed the freedom. He owed Stephanie something too, and he hadn't been doing her justice either. He was surprised how much he liked living with her, and how easy she was to be with. She wanted him to move in with her now, and she had recently threatened to leave him if he didn't. But what he really wanted was to put Page away for a while, like in a closet, or a deep freeze, spend a year with Stephanie, and then come back to find everything the way it had been. It would have been nice if he could do that.

“Maybe I should move out,” he said miserably, sitting next to her on the bed again. Suddenly all he wanted was to see Stephanie and prove that he wasn't impotent. His little episode with Page had scared him.

“I'm not pressuring you to do anything,” Page said quietly, her long, lean body naked under the thin nightgown, but he wasn't looking. She felt stupid for letting him make love to her, and suddenly she longed for Trygve.

“I think whatever we do, it should be fairly soon. I don't think I can take a lot of this …and neither can Andy. Your coming and going and disappearing acts are a little wearing,” she said sadly.

“I know.” But in the past two weeks nothing in their life had been normal. In his own way, he was as traumatized as Page and Andy, and he was not making great decisions. “Let's just see what happens.”

She nodded, and went to take a long bath, trying not to think of Trygve. She didn't want their relationship to be a result of Brad's rejecting her, or the trauma of the accident either. If anything happened with him, she wanted it to be because they genuinely had something good to share, and could have a good life, or a good time, or were meant to be together. She wanted it to be right …and nothing like what had happened with Brad. She knew it was going to be hard to trust anyone now, even Trygve.

Brad was asleep when she went back to bed, and gone the next morning when she got up. He left a note, saying he was playing golf, and he wouldn't be home for dinner. He didn't say what club he was playing at, or with whom, and she knew instantly that it was a lie. He was with Stephanie, the night before had frightened him, and he was running away to her for reassurance. She threw the note away and sighed just as the phone rang.

“Hi, Page, how's life?” It was Trygve who was calling about Andy. He knew he couldn't play baseball with his broken arm, and he wanted to know if she'd like to leave him to play with Bjorn when she went to see Allie. Unless Brad wanted to be with him, of course, but he suspected correctly that that might not happen.

“My housecleaner is here today, and she could keep an eye on both of them. I want to spend some time with Chloe,” Trygve explained.

“He'd love that,” Page said, grateful for his help again. Whatever else happened between them, he had been a remarkable friend to them, and she would never forget it. “I'll tell him. What time do you want him?” It was ten o'clock then, and she wanted to be at the hospital by eleven.

“Just drop him off on your way. I'll tell Bjorn, he'll be thrilled. He was upset at my going over to see Chloe without him. But he gets so restless after a little while when I take him. He plays with everything, and he drives the nurses crazy.” She laughed at the image, but knowing Bjorn now it wasn't cruel, it was touching.

Andy was thrilled with the invitation, and the woman who cleaned house for Trygve once a week promised to watch them. She seemed very nice, and Page felt comfortable leaving Andy there. The boys disappeared immediately to Bjorn's room to watch a video, and Page gave Trygve a ride to Marin General.

“How's it going with Brad?” he asked gently on the way, “or should I mind my own business?” It was a little bit more his business now too, he had a vested interest in all of this suddenly, but he didn't want to pressure her and she was looking unhappy. She was still uncomfortable about the night before, and sorry it had happened. In an odd way she felt slightly guilty toward Trygve.

“It's difficult. I think we're in the last throes, but he's afraid to admit it.”

“What about you? Are you ready to move on?” He had a stake in this now, and wanted to know what she was feeling.

She glanced at him as she drove, she wanted to be honest with him. She liked him too much not to be. “I don't want to move too fast … or do anything stupid … I don't want …” She struggled for the words, but he already understood, and he was comfortable with it. He wouldn't have expected anything different. “I don't want to do something on the rebound. Or something we'll regret that will hurt us later.”

“Neither do I,” he said calmly, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “I'm not going to push you, or do something we'll both regret. You have all the time you need. And if you can work things out with Brad again, then I'll be sorry for me, but happy for both of you. Your marriage comes first …and after that, I'm here if you need me.”

She pulled into a parking space at the hospital, and turned to look at him, grateful for all he'd said. The funny thing was that in spite of what she'd once felt for Brad, Trygve was everything she wanted. “How did I ever get so lucky?”

“I'm not sure I'd call it that,” he laughed ruefully. “We've paid a hell of a price for all this, you and I. Bad marriages, maybe mine more than yours, but yours doesn't seem to be such a peach either …the accident …our kids almost died …maybe we've earned this.” She nodded. It was true. The accident had changed everything, but maybe in the end, it would bring them blessings too. It was hard to know yet. “I love you, Page,” he said softly then, and leaned toward her and kissed her. He put his arms around her and pulled her close to him. They sat there quietly for a long time, feeling at peace in the May sunshine. It had been exactly two weeks since the accident. It was hard to believe it.

They went inside to see their daughters then. She chatted with the nurses now and then. And he came to bring her lunch in the ICU a few hours later. He walked her slowly to the waiting room, and handed her a turkey sandwich and a cup of coffee. He was telling her about his latest article, which he'd finished the night before, and it sounded intriguing. But more than anything, it amazed Page how he took care of her, how he thought of everything, how he was there for her and Andy, and his own family. He seemed to nurture everyone, and she needed that very badly.

“How's Allie today?”

Page shrugged in answer, looking discouraged. She had worked with the therapist for over an hour, they had massaged her limbs and done everything they could. But it was obvious that she was losing weight and there was no improvement. “I don't know …it's been two weeks, and it seems like forever. I guess I expected some kind of miracle by now, even a small one.” It had been ten days since her last brain surgery, she had stabilized, and the pressure had gone down, but she was still in a deep coma.

“They told you it could go on for a long time. Months maybe. You can't give up yet,” he said gently. It was so much easier for him, with Chloe so alive, so damaged, but so clearly out of danger. She might face future surgeries, and they would have to teach her to walk again, but the real danger was over. Now she had to adjust to the long grind of rehabilitation, and face the fact that her dreams of being a ballerina were over. No small thing, but she was in much better shape than Allyson, who still might die at any moment. It seemed so cruel to him that she might live for weeks, or even months, and still die in her coma. It was more than any parent should have to bear, and he hated to have Page go through it.

“I'm not giving up,” Page said, picking at the sandwich he had brought her. He knew that if he had left her there, she wouldn't have eaten it, which was why he had stayed with her. Besides, he wanted to be with her, although he claimed he needed a respite from Chloe and her friends. Chloe's high spirits were definitely returning. “I just feel so helpless,” Page said bleakly.

“You are. But you're doing everything you can, and so are the doctors. Give it time. It could go on like this for weeks, with no sign, and then she might wake up, and be relatively okay.”

“They said that if there's no sign of improvement at all after six weeks, she might remain in the coma.”

“But she could come out of it later than that too. It's happened before with kids her age …three months, isn't that what you said?” He encouraged her, but her eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. So much was happening, so much to endure, so much to cope with, and at times she just felt like she couldn't face it.

“Trygve, how am I going to get through this?” She leaned her head against his chest and cried. It was easy to escape into thinking about him, or being angry at Brad, or worrying about Andy's arm. But the most important thing that was happening, the thing that all of them could barely face, was that Allyson might be dying.

“You're doing fine,” he said gently as he held her. “You're doing everything you can. The rest is in God's hands.”

She pulled away to look at him then, and he handed her a paper napkin to blow her nose with. “I wish He'd hurry up and fix it.”

Trygve smiled. “He will, give Him time.”

“He's had two weeks, and my life is falling apart.”

“Just hang in there. You're doing great.” One thing she knew for sure was that she couldn't have done it without him. Brad was God knows where doing God knows what. She knew he had come to see Allie at least once every day or two, but he couldn't take the anguish of the ICU for longer than a few minutes. He still couldn't face it. He couldn't face the sameness, the lack of change, the machines, the monitors, and the fact that they might lose her. He was leaving Page to cope with it alone. He had been a lot better about it when they had had Andy. But they had been younger then, and Andy had been so tiny and sweet. The incubator was filled with hope, and the ICU was filled with dying.

Page and Trygve sat talking for a long time, and he teased her that she was upset because of her mother's arrival the next day, and actually she didn't deny it.

“Why do you hate her so much?” he asked, he had wondered about it. It wasn't like her.

“Old news. I had a fairly rotten childhood.”

“Most people did. My father, good Norwegian that he was, thought an occasional caning was an important part of life. I still have a scar on my behind from one particularly vigorous session.”

“How awful!” She looked horrified.

“That was the way in those days. And he'd probably do it again now, if he had children. He can never understand why I'm so liberal with my kids. Actually, I think he and my mother are a lot happier now that they're back in Norway.”

“Could you ever see yourself living there?” she asked, intrigued, trying to forget her worries about Allie. He was right. There was nothing she could do but wait, hope, and pray. And see what happened.

“No, I couldn't,” he said in answer to her question about Norway. “Not after living here. The winters are endless there, and it's dark all day long. It's kind of primeval. I don't think I'd survive anymore out of California.”

“Yeah, me too.” The idea of moving to New York again made her shudder. Although she would have liked the opportunity to pursue her artwork there. But she could do it in California too. She just hadn't bothered. Brad had always made her feel that it was something she should do for friends, or in their kitchen. Not something she should ever work at. Somehow he felt that what she did wasn't important. She'd promised to do another mural for the school, but spending every spare moment at the hospital, she didn't have time now.

“You ought to do something here,” Trygve said later, looking around them. The waiting room was a dismal place, and the hallway was worse. “It's so depressing. One of your murals would give people something to think about while they wait. They make you happy just looking at them,” he said admiringly.

“Thank you. I enjoy it.” She looked around the room, thinking of what she could do there, but hoping she wouldn't be there long enough to do it.

“Am I going to meet your mother while she's here?” he asked comfortably, and Page rolled her eyes while he laughed. “She can't be that bad.”

“Actually, she's worse, but she can be pretty subtle about it when she wants to. She refuses to face anything disagreeable. Or discuss it. This is going to present quite a challenge for her.”

“At least she sounds cheerful. What about your sister?”

Page could only laugh. “She's very special. They both are. I didn't see them at all for the first few years after I came out here, and then my father died, and I felt sorry for my mother, so I invited her out. That was a mistake. She and Brad fought like cats and dogs every day, subtly of course, it's all very passive aggressive, but it gives me a stomachache to be around it. And of course she thought I had no idea how to bring up Allie.”

“At least she can't complain about that now,” he said encouragingly.

“No, but she won't approve of the doctor. David, my brother-in-law, will probably have heard that he's a quack and about to be sued for malpractice. The hospital will be all wrong. Not to mention the really important stuff, like how bad the hairdresser is at I. Magnin.”

“They can't be that bad.”

“They're worse.” But behind the humor he sensed that there was more. Page was too grown up, and too at ease with herself to dislike them as much as she did, if there weren't more to it. But it was also obvious that she didn't want to share it with him, and he didn't press her. She was entitled to her secrets.

He went back to Chloe eventually, and she to Allyson, and Page finally came to Chloe's room at five o'clock, and sat down and chatted with her. Chloe was still in a fair amount of pain, and her extensive casts and pins and contraptions looked pretty miserable, but she was handling it well, and she was happy to be alive. She was very worried about Allie. Trygve had told her pretty honestly that she still might die. She wasn't out of the woods yet. Jamie was there that afternoon too, and asked for news of Allyson as soon as he saw her mother.

“How is she?” Chloe asked the moment Page came into the room.

“The same. How about you? Driving the nurses wild, flirting with the residents, ordering pizzas all night long? The usual stuff?” Page grinned and Chloe laughed at the description.

“That and more,” Trygve teased, and Chloe laughed. She was a real teenager and it did their hearts good to see it.

“Good.” Page only wished that Allyson were doing the same things. But surely so did the Chapmans about Phillip. She could only imagine how they must feel only two weeks after the accident, and her heart ached whenever she thought of them. However awful things were with Allyson, there was still hope. But there was no hope for the Chapmans.

Jamie said that he had seen them a few days before and Mrs. Chapman was still in pretty bad shape. Mr. Chapman had told him he was suing the paper for the article that seemed to blame Phillip. Jamie mentioned too that a reporter had come to see him again, to ask him what it was like to be the only one who'd escaped unscathed. But for the most part, the press interest finally seemed to have faded.

They left Chloe at six o'clock, when the pizza Trygve had ordered for her arrived. Jamie stayed to share it with her, and Trygve drove Page back to his place.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” he asked hopefully.

“I'd love to, but I should probably go home in case Brad shows up. He probably won't, but if he does, Andy will be upset to miss him.” Trygve didn't press, and despite Andy and Bjorn's protests, Page took Andy home, but Brad never came home until the next morning. And then, in spite of all Page's promises to herself, there was the usual explosion.

“What was all that bullshit the other night about wanting to stay here, and not being sure of what you wanted? Who are you kidding with that shit?” She was livid. She was tired of living like this, while he pursued his own life with another woman.

“I'm sorry. I should have called. I don't know what happened … I just didn't.” He did know what had happened, of course, but he couldn't tell Page. He had gone away overnight with Stephanie and there was no way he could call her from their hotel room. Stephanie hadn't left him for a single minute, and she had been furious on Sunday morning when he had insisted on driving back. But not as furious as Page had been when he walked in at noon, having never called her. She and Andy had been just about to leave for the airport. “Look, I'm sorry,” he said helplessly, feeling like a moron. He was ricocheting between two worlds and two women, and not handling either very well.

“Why don't you just ask me if Allie is still alive,” Page said cruelly. It wasn't like her to be so unkind, but she had really had it with him.

“Oh my God … is she? … oh Page …” His eyes filled instantly with tears as Page watched him coldly.

“No, she didn't die. But she could have, and where would I have called you, Brad? As usual, you never even called us.”

“You bitch!” He slammed the door to the bedroom, and Andy started to cry. They were always fighting.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart.” She bent down and held him, and Brad didn't come out of the bedroom again. She didn't pursue him either. They left for the airport, and Andy was very quiet on the way. So was Page, she was thinking of the way Brad had looked when he came home. He looked young, and refreshed, and happy, until he saw her. But it was Andy she was worried about as they drove to the airport. He looked heartbroken as he stared out the window.

Her mother and Alexis were among the first passengers off the plane. Her mother looked trim as usual, with beautifully done white hair, and a navy suit that showed off her slim figure. Alexis looked striking in a pale pink Chanel suit, her blond hair perfectly done, her exquisite artificial features made up like the cover of Vogue. She was carrying a black alligator Hermes bag and matching tote, as she carefully kissed the air near Page's cheek and said a cautious hello to Andy.

“You look wonderful, dear,” her mother said happily, looking past her. “Where's Brad?”

“He's at home. He didn't have time to come, but he said to tell you he was sorry.” She had no idea if he'd even be there when they got back. There was no predicting his appearances these days, and covering that up during her mother's visit wasn't going to be easy. But she didn't want to discuss the demise of her marriage with her, and her mother wouldn't want to hear it.

They waited for their luggage at the baggage claim, and fortunately all of it arrived safely. A porter staggered under the mountain of bags they had brought. Alexis's were all matched Gucci cases.

“How's Allyson?” Alexis asked cautiously on the drive home, and Page started to explain her current status, still deep in her coma. But her mother cut her off almost as soon as she spoke, and told her how divine the weather had been in New York, and how great Alexis's apartment looked these days, since she'd redone it.

“That's nice,” Page said quietly. Nothing had changed. They were the same pair who had come out before. The only mystery was why she always expected two different people. All her life she had expected her mother to be someone else, someone homey and warm, who cared and really listened. And she always hoped that Alexis would turn out to have pigtails and freckles and a heart. But they never changed. Her mother spoke of only pleasant things, and Alexis hardly spoke at all, she was too busy being perfect and looking pretty. Page had always wondered what she and David talked about, if anything. He was a lot older than her sister was, and he was always in surgery …much of it obviously spent on redoing his wife, which seemed to be a full-time occupation for him.

“How has the weather been here?” her mother inquired as they crossed the bridge where Allyson's life had been destroyed. Page couldn't drive across it anymore without feeling nauseous and dizzy.

“The weather?” she said blankly. Who knew? She was in ICU all the time, or fighting with Brad. Who had time to look at the weather? “I think it's been fine. I haven't really noticed.”

“And Andy, how's your arm? What a silly thing to do!” his grandmother cooed, as Andy showed Alexis all the places where people had signed. Bjorn had even drawn a picture of a little dog, Andy always grinned when he said it looked just like Richie Green's hamster. But he loved Bjorn, and he was proud of their budding friendship. He loved telling his friends at school that he had a friend who was eighteen. And of course no one ever believed him.

Page was surprised that Brad was waiting for them at home. And he was very cordial to both Alexis and their mother. He carried in their mountain of bags, and set her mother's up for her in the guest room. Her mother was going to sleep in the large double bed, and normally Alexis would have slept in it with her, but this time she had asked if she could sleep in Allyson's bedroom. Page didn't really want her to, right now it felt like something of a shrine. Nothing had been touched since the night Allyson left to go out to dinner with Chloe.

But Brad said it was fine. And Page forced herself to overcome her reservations. It was foolish for them to sleep in the same bed, when they had another empty bedroom. It just underlined even more starkly the fact that Allyson wasn't there, and it made Page uncomfortable to have someone else in her space, but it couldn't be helped, and she knew she was foolish to resent it.

Alexis asked her for a drink. She wanted cold Evian without ice, and her mother said that she would love a cup of coffee and a little sandwich while she unpacked her things. It was typical of Page's experience with them, and she went to the kitchen, without saying a word, and made whatever they wanted.

It was four-thirty by then, and Page was anxious to get to the hospital. She hadn't been all day, and she was sure that her mother and Alexis would want to see Allie. She mentioned it as the two women joined her in the living room, and her mother complimented her on the new couch, and drapes, and new paintings.

“You do such nice work, dear.” Like Brad, her mother treated her artwork like a charming hobby, and always had. Page's brief experience with the stage had horrified her, and she was relieved that she had never tried to do that sort of thing in California.

Page glanced at her watch uncomfortably. It was after four-thirty. “I thought maybe we'd go to the hospital. I'm sure you want to see Allie.” But the two women exchanged a glance, and Page realized that she had been foolish again. The hospital was not on their agenda.

“We've had such a long day,” Maribelle Addison said quietly, leaning back against the couch. “And Alexis is just exhausted. She's recuperating from a terrible cold,” her mother explained as Alexis nodded. “Don't you think it would be better to go in the morning?” she asked, looking wide-eyed as Page struggled for words for a moment.

“I … uh … of course, if you'd prefer …I just thought …” How stupid of her to think they would want to see Allie. They were probably scared to death of seeing her. Why on earth had they come, she wondered, except that it was a diversion for them, and they deluded themselves that they were doing something nice for Page, which of course they weren't.