Good Hope Road (36 page)

“No. Daddy’s not in surgery,” Drew answered, impatient with me for asking questions he couldn’t answer. He glanced over his shoulder at Nate. “What’s wrong with Nate? How many of those pain pills did he take this morning? I could hardly get him awake long enough to take him to the truck. What was he doing out on the porch drinking beer, anyway?”

I sighed, smoothing a finger over my eyebrows. “Shad came by. He gave Nate two of the pain pills because his leg was hurting.”

Drew slammed a hand into the steering wheel, and the truck swerved, fishtailing on the gravel. “Oh, great! That’s just great, Jenilee.”

“Drew, be careful!” I screamed as the truck slid wildly around a corner, the rear tires careening off the shoulder and spinning out.

Drew ignored me. Letting the truck slow slightly, he turned toward me and pointed a finger. “The next time I see that Shad Bell, I’m going to kill him. You keep him away from Nate.”

I nodded. It was my fault that Shad was coming around in the first place.

“And I’ll tell you something else.” Drew turned his attention to the road again, but kept his finger pointed at me. “When this is all over, I’m taking you and Nate back to Springfield with me. If Nate’s drinking beer and popping pills with Shad Bell, he’s about
that
close to some real trouble.” He held his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “And if you’re still thinking about getting back together with Shad, so are you.”

“Drew, I . . .” I stood on the line between fear and anger, unsure of which way to let my emotions fall
.
“Daddy will never let you take Nate away, Drew, and Nate won’t want to go, either. Nate won’t just walk out on Daddy. He won’t. Nate’s nothing if not loyal. Even to Daddy.”

Drew glanced at me narrowly. “Nate’s still a minor. I’ll go to court if I have to.”

“He’s
sixteen,
Drew. You can’t force him.”

Drew glanced at our little brother in the backseat, and then at me, his dark eyes softening. “One way or another, I’m going to make it all work. I did the wrong thing when I left the two of you here alone. But Mama was sick, and I knew if I took you away, there would be no one to take care of her. I told myself it was best that way, but the truth was, I knew it was wrong.”

He turned his attention back to the road, shaking his head, the hardness melting from his profile so that he didn’t look so much like Daddy. “You know, Jenilee, I stood in the door that day, and I came so close to telling you to hop in the truck, we’d go by the school and get Nate, and we’d be out of there. But Darla was pregnant, and I was just out of the army. I didn’t have a house or a job, and I didn’t see how I could handle anything more.”

I nodded, closing my eyes and thinking of that day, and how much I had wanted him to rescue us. I wondered what our lives would have been if he had. My mind couldn’t paint the picture. I could not imagine what I would have become without the years of hardship, Mama’s death, the tornado, all that had happened afterward.

I laid my hand on Drew’s arm, and took a breath. “Drew, I want to tell you something. There are a lot of details to it that I don’t know yet, but Dr. Albright, you know, the doctor who helped us at the armory? He thinks he can get me into this internship program where I could work in a hospital and start on a college degree in something to do with medicine. I know it seems like a crazy dream, but I was thinking . . . well, I was thinking maybe it would work. Maybe I could do it.” I stared straight ahead, afraid to move, afraid to say anything more.

Drew rolled up his window so that the truck was quiet. The minutes ticked by in painful silence as he stared at the road ahead. Finally, he said, “I think it’s a good idea. It would be a good thing for you.”

I found myself nodding before he finished. “I know. It sounds perfect. I don’t know any of the details yet, but it sounds like . . . well . . . like the answer to a prayer.”

Drew quirked a brow to hear me talking about prayers, then nodded like he agreed. “Well, then we’ll make it work out somehow. Somehow it’ll be all right.”

I nodded, but inside I was thinking,
Will it?
In all our plans, there was one thing left to consider—the one thing neither of us wanted to think about. The one person who held sway over our lives, and always had. Daddy.

I looked at Drew, now softened, weary, worried. If Daddy was recovering, if we reached the hospital and we had to face him, would we still have the strength to break free?

The questions spun through my mind like the cloud of dust billowing around the truck as we stopped at the highway intersection before pulling onto the interstate. Drew stepped on the accelerator and we sped toward Oklahoma City, toward something we didn’t know or understand, and couldn’t be ready for.

In the backseat, Nate slept, unaware. He awoke an hour later as we pulled into the hospital parking lot. Gripping his head, he leaned against the window. “I feel sick.” He groaned.

“Yeah, no kidding.” Drew jerked the back door open so that Nate almost fell out. “You ever take anything from Shad Bell again, I’m gonna make you more than sick, Bubby. You just keep that in mind. And you aren’t legal for beer, either. Remember that.”

Nate blinked at him, then bent over the storm drain and threw up.

Drew waved me away as I moved to help Nate. “You just remember this the next time you think about popping pills and getting drunk.” He stepped away and left Nate standing on his good leg, clinging to the side of the truck. Drew reached into the back of the truck and pulled out Nate’s crutches. “And, here, you can use your crutches to get into the hospital. I’m not going to carry you. You’re a big man drinking with Shad Bell. You figure out how to get yourself in the door.”

Nate took the crutches and turned to me, utterly miserable, looking for help. Then he glanced at Drew and stood straighter, bracing the crutches under his arms and starting up the walkway.

“Jerk,” he muttered, but there was a look of respect in him, as if he knew that what Drew did he did out of love.

Drew glanced over his shoulder, and Nate gave him a sarcastic smile, then continued limping toward the hospital doors.

“Sorry, Jen,” he muttered sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to get so wasted.”

“You shouldn’t be getting
wasted
at all,” I snapped, my nerves on edge. “Drew’s right. You’re too young to be drinking.”

Nate knitted his brows indignantly. “Daddy doesn’t care. He says as long as I don’t go through too much of his beer—”

“Well, Daddy’s wrong,” I interrupted. “Daddy’s so messed up himself that he doesn’t know what’s right anymore.”

To my surprise, Nate didn’t argue. He glanced at Drew. Had Drew told him the same thing? I wondered what Nate was thinking, but as usual, he didn’t say. “What did the hospital tell you about Daddy?” he asked.

“They just told us we should come.” I held the hospital doors open so that Nate could get through with his crutches.

A flurry of activity in the lobby caught my eye. Two dark-haired children, a boy and a girl, ran across the room toward Drew.

“Daddy!” they cried, their voices echoing through the granite enclosure.

Drew blinked in surprise, then bent down on one knee and scooped them into his arms. Closing his eyes, he buried his face between them and held on, whispering, “Hi, babies. How are my babies? Oh, God, I’ve missed you two.” His voice was choked with tears.

Darla came across the lobby as we stopped behind Drew. She and Drew looked at each other for a moment, uncertain; then he stood up, still holding the children. He reached for her, and she fell into his arms, completing the circle.

“Thanks, Darla,” he said against her hair. “Thanks for bringing the kids.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was thick with emotion. “Drew, I didn’t know. I didn’t know you were calling my parents’ house looking for us. I thought you were running out on the kids. That’s why I filed the legal papers. It was wrong, Drew. The kids need their father. I need you. What I did was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Drew kissed the tops of the kids’ heads. “We were both wrong,” he said. “It’s so good to see you guys.”

Darla pushed away finally, wiping her eyes. “They need you upstairs, Drew. Your father’s awake, but there are problems. I’m going to send the kids home with my brother. I want to stay with you, all right?” Her brown eyes were wide and uncertain, afraid he would say no.

He nodded. “Thanks for bringing the kids.”

“They miss their daddy. We need you, Drew. All of us.” She looked at the children, her eyes filled with love. Touching the side of Drew’s face, she met his gaze. “When all this is over, we’ll go home and talk, all right? We need some time, and the kids need time with their daddy.”

Drew nodded, too emotional to talk, then closed his eyes and hugged the kids to him again.

Darla stepped back and turned to us. “Hi, Nate. You look better.”

Nate nodded toward his cast. “Up on crutches now.”

Darla smiled. “You just behave yourself and do what the doctors say. Don’t be trying to get out of bed like you were that first day after the surgery.”

Nate looked sheepishly toward his feet. “Yes, ma’am.”

Drew set the kids down, resting a hand on each of their heads. “And these two are Frog and Toad. I mean, Alex and Amber.”

The kids giggled, clinging to Drew’s legs as Darla’s brother came from the other side of the lobby and told Darla he was going to take them home. Drew kissed them good-bye, reluctant to let them go; then we turned and walked to the elevator, none of us saying anything as the elevator climbed slowly to ICU. I watched the lights change on the console, watched each floor passing, and wondered what we would find when the elevator stopped.

I felt my body go numb as the doors opened. Drew glanced at me and nodded; then he took a deep breath, stepped from the elevator, and held open the door. We asked about Daddy at the reception desk, and the nurse led us to the ICU waiting room, rather than letting us go in to see Daddy. As she turned to leave, we stood just inside the room, waiting for her to give us some clue as to what was happening, but her expression was unreadable.

“Dr. Garland will be here in just a minute. He’s in with your father now. He asked that you wait for him in the waiting room.”

We moved to the comfortless vinyl chairs around the edges of the room, all of us silent, not knowing what to say or what to hope for. Darla laid her hand over Drew’s. He didn’t move to hold her hand, but didn’t pull away either.

Beside me, Nate tapped his knuckles against his cast, looking worried. He glanced at me and his lips twitched upward at the sides, a false attempt at a smile.

I turned to stare out the window as the minutes crept by.

Drew jerked upright when the doctor entered. Nate leaned forward, sitting on the edge of his seat.

I closed, then opened my eyes, and watched as the doctor scooted the magazines out of the way and sat on the edge of the coffee table, facing us. Setting a chart on the table, he introduced himself, gave his title, shook Drew’s hand. I barely heard what he was saying. I looked at his hands and pictured him holding Daddy’s life in them.

He paused, taking a deep breath, seeming to think about what to say. I met his eyes. Dark blue. Compassionate.

“The situation is this,” he said slowly. “Our immediate concern was the bleeding from your father’s kidneys and the damage to his liver. During the last surgery, we were able to stop the bleeding and remove the damaged portion of his liver, but this morning’s ultrasound detected multiple blood clots in his inferior vena cava. The danger, of course, is that the clots could break loose and travel to his lungs. There is too much risk in relying on medications alone to dissolve the clots. We will need to do another surgery for the placement of a Greenfield filter, which, in lay terms, is a cagelike device designed to stop clots from going to the lungs.”

I swallowed hard. “He needs more surgery? Is he strong enough for that?”

“We hope so. At this point, there is very little choice. The clot could move into his heart at any time, causing a heart attack. However, he is refusing any further surgery. He is extremely agitated and emotional. We were hoping that if you talked to him, you might be able to calm him down and convince him to sign the consent form. If he will not sign, the fact that he is heavily sedated, and therefore not fully rational, makes it acceptable for either of you to sign the forms as his next of kin.”

The doctor picked up his clipboard and stood. “He is, of course, still in ICU, so you’ll have to go in only two at a time.” He stopped in the doorway, turning back to us. “Remember to keep things calm and pleasant. Talk about things in the future he might look forward to. If you have any unresolved family issues, now is not the time to bring them up.”

I wondered what I could possibly say. Daddy didn’t think much about the future. He lived one day at a time, and told us he figured he’d die before he got old. Maybe refusing the surgery was his way of making that prediction come true.

Drew and I looked at each other as the doctor turned and left the room. Nate grabbed his crutches and stood up, starting toward the door.

Drew followed him. “I’ll go in with him.”

I watched the two of them disappear around the corner, knowing my turn was next.

 

 

I
lost my courage as soon as I started into that armory building. I took two steps in, then ducked into the shadows behind the door and waited a few minutes until I heard Jenilee’s truck leave. Then I turned and slipped out of the armory. For a long time, I paced back and forth on the steps, tryin’ to decide what to do.

“You’re bein’ foolish, Eudora,” I muttered to myself. “Out here, pacin’ around like some silly girl. Just go in and say it. Get it over with. Just go in there, stand by that old man’s bed, and bury the past. Look him right in the eye and tell him you forgive him and you want him to forgive you, and you want to go on from here. It ain’t a shameful thing to ask for forgiveness. How else you gonna get that man out of your head?”