More Than Friends (3 page)

"Can you hear me? It's Mommy, baby. Open your eyes."

"He's unconscious," Virginia announced.

"We told him not to leave school," came a new, frightened voice. "We told him not to. But he was sure he'd get home and back before lunch period ended."

Teke glanced up into the ashen faces of Michael's friends, the twins, Terry and Alex Baker. While Alex gaped at Michael's inert form, Terry babbled, "We found out there were still some tickets left for Club MTV

next week at Great Woods. Josh's dad agreed to go get them tonight, but only if we all paid up before. Michael figured he'd get his mom's permission and the money at the same time."

"He was coming out of the house," Virginia announced. Teke's eye flew to hers, then, following her gaze, to Sam. His shirt was open and his belt unbuckled. He fixed the belt, but that was all before he returned his hand to Michael's hair. "Where's the goddamned ambulance," he muttered.

5am, oh, Sam, what have we done? Teke cried silently, but even in the silence her voice was strange, not its robust self, but a flimsy facade reflecting an absolute horror of thoughts. She hadn't felt such despair since she had been a Peasely, dirt poor and living in the squalor of a fisherman's shack on the northernmost coast of Maine. Grady had been her savior then. Not even he could save her now.

"You'll be fine, Mikey," she managed aloud. "The doctors will know what to do." For her own sake she added a shaky, "Stay calm. Stay calm."

"Why did he leave the house that way?" Virginia asked. "Why didn't he look before he ran into the street?"

"He just ran in and ran out," Terry cried. "We were watching from the Carters' hill. He wasn't in there more'n half a minute."

"Did he ask you about the concert?" Virginia asked Teke. She couldn't answer. She couldn't think beyond Michael at that moment in time. She held his hand, rubbed the arm that appeared uninjured, felt herself go weak, and swayed.

Sam reached out to steady her. "He'll be okay, Teke." She gave a spasmodic nod, praying it with all her might.

"Kids are strong. They rebound."

The distant wail of the ambulance pierced the air. It was as unreal as the rest of the world was seeming. Teke couldn't identify with any of it. Nor could she escape it.

The siren grew louder, stilling abruptly the minute the ambulance turned onto the street. It was followed by a police car. Both pulled up close before disgorging their occupants.

Teke was aware of other neighbors appearing in her periphery, but she kept her touch and her focus on Michael. When Sam bodily lifted her out of the way to make room for the paramedics, she resisted. But he held firm. "They're professionals. They can help him."

"He's my baby, Sam," she whispered, struggling to see Michael around the uniformed backs. "If anything happens to him, I'll die."

"He'll be okay."

"It's my fault."

"No."

"Did you folks see what happened?" one of the police officers asked. Before either of them could speak, the driver of

the pickup said, "The truck's mine. I tried to stop, but it was too late."

Teke looked at the man before she could catch herself, and her silent voice screamed in anguish. Grady. No, no, not Grady. Anyone else, please God, oh, please. But twenty-two years had barely changed his features. Then again, he might have worn a mask, and she would have known him from his eyes. They were deep, dark eyes to drown in, always filled with emotion for her, and they were no different now. She began to shake in earnest.

Sam tightened his hold. "It's okay, Teke. He'll be fine. He's a strong, healthy kid."

Teke watched the policeman lead Grady out of earshot, then switched her eyes to the paramedics, who were securing Michael on a stretcher.

"She should get dressed, don't you think?" Virginia asked Sam, who tried to turn Teke toward the house.

But she refused. "I can't leave him." She was sure he would die if she did.

"A sweater and leggings would be best," he coaxed. "We may be at the hospital a while."

"I can't leave him."

To Virginia Sam said, "Run inside and get her some clothes. She'll change when we get there."

Virginia jogged off.

One of the paramedics looked up from his work. "We have broken bones here, maybe internal bleeding, but the head injury is the main cause for concern. Is Mass. General okay?"

Teke supposed it was. She didn't know for sure. She didn't know what the options were. She didn't know anything, and her baby's life was on the line.

"It's fine," Sam said to the paramedic, then to Teke, "It's the best. We can't go wrong there."

Michael was eased into the ambulance. Teke

crowded close behind, linked by an emotional umbilical cord.

"You ride with him," Sam agreed. "I'll follow in my car. I can phone from there. Annie will round up the kids. We'll meet at the hospital."

Teke had a sudden, terrifying thought. "J.D." He had to be called, had to be told, had to come.

"I'll get him," Sam assured her. His eyes held the same unspoken terror she felt.

"Here you go," Virginia said, handing Teke a bulging bag. "I threw in underwear, too."

Teke had just enough time to catch the look Virginia slid Sam, before Sam was helping her into the ambulance. Then she turned her attention to Michael. Her eyes never left his face during the ride to the hospital, and once there she remained by his side, holding his hand, willing him to open his eyes and grin his adorable grin. But his eyes remained shut, and his mouth was soon taped around a breathing tube. She left the emergency room cubicle only when the doctors insisted that they needed the small space she took up. Borrowing an empty room nearby, she changed into her clothes, then resumed the wait in the hall, hunched against the wall with her eyes glued to the door of the room where the doctors worked on Michael. Sam joined her. "Any news yet?"

With that little bit of time and distance between them now, she couldn't look him in the eye after what she'd done. So she simply shook her head.

"Teke--"

She interrupted him with a hand. She didn't want to think of what had happened, much less speak of it.

But he insisted. "It was my fault."

She put shaky fingers to her forehead and tried to concentrate on Michael, on what the doctors were

doing and whether or not he was responding.

Sam said, "Michael must have been traumatized by what he saw."

"Please," she begged. Her mind was clogged with staggering thoughts. She couldn't take another. "Not now."

"It won't be any easier later."

"If Michael survives, it will. Anything will, if he survives."

"He'll survive," Sam said with a confidence that lured her, she was so desperate for encouragement. Shifting her hand, she met his gaze, and the confidence was there, in his deep brown eyes, the strong line of his cheek, the firm set of his mouth beneath its mustache. "He will, Teke."

She nodded and tried to focus on Michael again, but other images intruded. She saw Sam's broad chest, felt his erection, heard his climactic cry, then the slam of the door, the squeal of brakes, the sound of a siren. She saw the flashing lights of the ambulance, the blood under Michael's head, the dirty blue pickup sitting askew in the street, the stunned, achingly familiar face of its owner. Grady. Oh, Grady. Damn it, Grady.

An anguished cry escaped her. Sam reached out to help, but she quickly slipped free. "I'm all right." She took a half breath and forced Grady from her mind. Michael was the only one who mattered. "He broke his leg. He won't be pleased. Basketball starts in a month."

"It's okay," Sam said. "He'll sit on the bench and help coach until he's up to playing."

"He'll be heartbroken if he has to miss even one game."

"So will the team. He's their star."

"What if he has to miss the whole season?"

"Then he'll train next summer and do twice as well next year."

"What if he can't play then?"

"He'll play then."

"What if he can't ever play?" It was the unthinkable that she couldn't help thinking about.

There was a silence from Sam, then a gut-wrenching sound from deep in his throat. Incredibly, given the enormity of her own fear, her heart went out to him. "Not much of a celebration for winning your case, is it?" she asked sadly.

"Fuck my case," he snapped. "I canceled the press conference, canceled the dinner. I can't think about any of that, much less celebrate." He ran a hand through his hair. "Strange, how life is. Three hours ago I was the greatest. Now I'm shit."

"Did you talk with Annie?" Teke asked, feeling a painful twist inside. That was another horror to consider.

"Only about Michael. She wanted to come in and be with you. I told her we needed her to get the kids from school."

Teke rested her cheek against the wall. "Annie's so good," she whispered. "She'd never have done what I did."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I practically attacked you." She was appalled by the thought, then bewildered. "I don't know what happened. I've never thought of being with you like that, but when you showed up, my mind was off somewhere else, and I needed--I needed--" She had needed Grady, it was as simple as that. Her marriage was stagnant. She had needed the emotion Grady had always evoked, the depth of feeling, the anticipation, the soul-deep satisfaction that came from being with him--none of which she had allowed herself to think of for years, but all of which had surged back with the receipt of his letter. After reading that letter countless times, she had been desperate for his fire.

Dismay, self-disgust, regret--feeling them all, she turned more fully into the wall. Then the door opened, and she whirled around. While she held her breath, one of the doctors separated himself from the rest.

"We're taking him to intensive care. We'll be doing tests, but I want to be able to monitor his functions more closely." Teke swallowed. "Has he woken up at all?"

"Not yet."

"Will he?"

"We hope so."

"When?"

"We don't know that."

"Can you guess?"

The doctor gave her a sad smile. "Not now. Maybe later, when we have more of an idea of the extent of the injury. You can come up with us, if you'd like. There's a comfortable room there."

A short time later Teke found herself in the fifth floor waiting room, trying to relax over the tea Sam had brought, but it was an impossible task. She thought of Sam and his pain, of J.D. and the anger that was sure to be. Mostly she thought of Grady and the shock of recognition she had felt.

Then Annie arrived. Jana and Zoe were with her, both close to tears and needing a comfort that Teke couldn't give. Her heart was too heavy, her worry too great. What she felt, though, when Annie wrapped her arms around her, was a crushing guilt.

Sweet, compassionate, understanding Annie, who understood nothing at all this time around.

Teke remembered the day, in September of 1970, when they'd first met. She had been a frightened freshman praying for confidence as she carted her duffel bags down the dormitory hall. Those duffel bags held the whole of her worldly possessions, none of which suddenly seemed right at all. And the worry increased

with each room she passed. With each diligent mother hanging curtains, each sweetly dressed freshman unpacking new clothes, she felt more inadequate. Then she arrived at her assigned room and found, sitting alone on the window seat writing in a worn journal, a girl who looked as frightened as she.

"Theodora?" Annie asked in a timid voice.

"Teke," Teke corrected artlessly. "Theodora's too long." Annie sighed into a smile. "Thank goodness. I've been dying, wondering what I'd ever have to say to someone named Theodora. Teke is perfect. And I love your earrings. What are they made of?" The earrings were of the fisherman's twine that Teke had picked up from the supply store floor and were knotted into large, ivory flowers that dangled against her neck. Annie had thought them wonderful. Likewise the jeans Teke had inherited from the parson's son and embroidered. And the oversize vests she had taken from her father's trunk before selling the rest.

They had become fast friends. Annie was the writer, Teke the mathematician, Annie the thinker, Teke the technician. They had worked as a team through four years of college, had married men who were best friends, and continued the teamwork through one Ph.D." one apartment and two houses each, countless school fund-raisers, holidays, and vacations, and five kids.

Now, suddenly, things had changed. Teke had sabotaged the relationship. And Annie didn't even know it yet.

"He'll be all right," Annie said softly.

Feeling like a snake, Teke slipped from her arms. "I pray."

"The doctors here are the best. Is J.D. on his way?" Teke nodded. Needing to move and somehow

dull the agony she felt, she went down the hall to Michael's room. She didn't go inside, simply stood at the window, watching. Annie and the girls joined her there.

"What are they doing?" Zoe asked.

"Tests," Teke answered.

Jana leaned against her. "Is he aware of it?" Teke swallowed. "No. He's still unconscious."

"Then he's not in pain?"

"I don't think so."

"When can we see him?"

"When they're done."

"Will he be okay?"

"I hope so."

Jana looked at her--no longer up, they were nearly the same height, though at that moment Teke felt lowly as hell--and said, "Annie told us they caught the guy."

With a twist in her heart, Teke saw Grady's face again. So many years had passed since she had seen it last. Then, too, it had looked ravaged.

He shouldn't have come, she cried silently. Her life was no business of his, he had told her once. Why couldn't he leave well enough alone?

She wanted to weep. Instead she took a breath and said in a carefully controlled voice, "They didn't have to catch him. He never left the scene."

"Did they arrest him?"

"I don't know."

"Was he speeding?"

"I didn't see."

"Why didn't Michael hear him? Or see him?"

Teke didn't know. She could guess, though, and the guessing gave no comfort. Nor did the thought that Jana's questions were nothing compared with the ones J.D. would have when he arrived. KizM-jA