The Lives Between Us (31 page)

“So, are you going to do it?”

“I... Yeah.” He sighed. He twisted the tab off the beer can and tossed it on the table. “It’s easy money. The check is in the bank and now that he told his friends, we’ve got a waiting list.”

“You’re acting like this is bad.”

“It’s great for our bottom line, but two problems: one, I charged him an outrageous fee for what we’re doing for him and two, Dad’s
not
going to like it. He’s going to see this as pandering to the wealthy.”

“So why don’t you look at the overcharging as a donation toward research. And as for only the wealthy being able to afford this...” Skye shrugged. “That’s the free market system at work. That’s life. This fell into your lap—you didn’t go out soliciting these people. And it’s growing by word of mouth.”

“But poor people who probably need this service far more than this guy, can’t afford to do what he’s doing. I’m not even sure those guys have the family history they tell me. They could just want the lines as a type of insurance against old age—or whatever.”

“So? So what if it is?”

“Aviva’s a research company. We store cord blood because otherwise it’d just be thrown out as medical waste. We try to save lives, not cater to rich people’s vanity.”

“So you can’t save rich people, too? Why don’t you look at it as if the rich can afford to save themselves, and in grossly overpaying you, they make it possible for you to save the less affluent?”

Mark smiled and rubbed her shoulder. “Is there anything you can’t put a positive spin on?”

Skye thought of her dilemma with Edward’s article. “Plenty. What else did you do this week?”

“I tried to help Ed sort out Noelle’s treatment options, and he’s pretty reluctant to consider using our matching cells. He’s worried Eileen might have coerced the owners into donating them. Eileen talked to them, but Noelle and Ed are still on the fence.” He inclined his head in concession. “I can tell he wants to do it, but he feels guilty.”

“Will it use all their stored cord blood?”

“Hopefully not, but it could.”

“What if Edward reimbursed them for all they’d paid to collect and store it?”

“We’ll see. I’m trying to set up a meeting with the owners so I can assure Ed they’re doing it of their own volition, but Eileen says they’re out of the country for the next several weeks. We can’t wait weeks and she has their signature...

“Eileen’s double-checking the amount they’ve got stored.” Mark rolled the beer can between his hands. “If we don’t need it all, I think Ed would go for it in a heartbeat.”

Skye wished that there were something she could say to cheer him up. “Be patient. We’ll know soon.”

Mark turned and slipped a warm hand beneath the hair at her neck. Gentle pressure worked at her knots. Skye didn’t even bother to hold back a purr of delight. “Mmm, that feels so good.”

“I aim to please, Ma’am.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Always. You’ll find I’m a very dedicated person.” Mark lowered his voice. “Whatever I do, I give my full attention. I pride myself on being quite thorough.”

Skye pictured them in bed, naked, Mark’s hands wandering her body with irresistible sensual intent. She gulped. “Thorough, eh?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Skye twisted in his grasp and pulled his head down to meet her lips.

Skye held Mark’s hand as they approached the hospital entrance. To the side of the revolving glass door there lay piles of bouquets and even some stuffed animals, like the way some people memorialize the side of a road after the death of a loved one—only minus the cross and fifty times the size. The colorful flowers in their cellophane cones lay propped alongside small Teddy bears, rabbits, and floppy-eared dogs in a constant vigil of love and hope.

Skye pulled Mark forward and bent to read the notes.
Our thoughts and prayers are with you, Senator Hastings. God Bless Mrs. Hastings. We love you. Get better soon
. And so on.

She looked up at Mark. “They’re for Noelle. All of them. There must be a hundred here.”

“People love Ed. They feel for him. I’m not surprised.”

Wow, Skye had to get a picture of this for her article. People adored the Hastingses. Surprisingly, they seemed to identify with them and share their pain. Hmm.

Skye dropped Mark’s hand and burrowed under his arm, using the bulk of his body as a buffer from these strangers’ emotions, or protect her from the mishap that had crippled the Hastingses. She’d had enough pain in her life.

Skye liked the way they fit together, whether intimately bonded or tucked under his arm, or simply holding hands. Though Mark was big, hard, and solid, she fit perfectly—like matching pieces to a puzzle. They’d missed their dinner reservations, so they decided to stop by the hospital for a short visit with Noelle and Edward on their way to get a slice of pizza at Buddy’s.

Approaching Noelle’s room, they showed their drivers licenses to the security man guarding her private wing. They walked down the hallway, but then Mark stalled in front of the partially open door. Oblivious of their audience, Edward stood nose-to-nose with Jeff, staring at the boy whose face mirrored his father’s irritation.

“You have to go home now. You have a full day of tutoring tomorrow.”

“The tutor’s an idiot. I want to be with Mom.”

“There’s nothing you can do for her. You can’t get behind in school.”

“Why not? You stay with her. You even get to sleep here. Why can’t I?”

Edward stood with his hands splayed on his hips. “Because you’re a kid and there isn’t enough room. This isn’t a hotel. Now get ready to go. I’ll walk you downstairs. Your grandfather’s waiting.”

“When can Mom come home?”

Edward sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Not for a while.”

“A week or months?”

“I don’t know. It could be weeks.”

“When are you coming home?”

Edward rubbed the back of his neck while frowning at his son, as if thinking of how to word his response. “Look, Jeff, this isn’t easy for any of us, and your arguing over every little thing doesn’t make it any easier. Can’t you just help out a little and do what we ask?”

Jeff’s hands clenched into rebellious fists at his side as his face settled into a stubborn scowl. “What
you
ask. She doesn’t want me to go, do you, Mom?” Jeff moved closer to the side of Noelle’s bed.

“Don’t drag her into this.”

Too late. She was in the middle of it. Even from the doorway, Skye could see Noelle frowning at Edward. Then her head slowly rolled to the side, and she mouthed words at them. Pacifying words, Skye imagined. Because that’s what Noelle did—she was a master mediator between her husband and son.

“You’re upsetting her. Kiss Mom goodbye, and you’ll see her tomorrow.” Ed took Jeff’s arm, watched him kiss Noelle’s cheek, then gently pulled him away. “Grandpa will bring you back tomorrow after tutoring.”

Noelle’s lips puckered in a kiss.

Skye squeezed Mark’s hand and pulled him back away from the doorway. She didn’t want to get caught standing there like intrusive peeping Toms. Mark put a hand at Skye’s back and shoved her into the room. Together they went straight to Noelle.

“Well, look at you.” Mark kissed Noelle’s cheek. “Sleeping beauty awakes, and you can move your head.” He raised his eyebrows. “I’m impressed. Way to go, lady.”

Without the screws and metal brace circling her head, Noelle looked a little less fragile. Skye moved closer and smiled encouragingly at Noelle, hoping to distract her from the male tension. “Congratulations. I bet your head feels so much lighter now.”

Noelle, lying flat on her back, smiled, but her eyes held worry. How could she not be upset with husband and son battling and her not able to referee?

“How about we keep you company while Ed sees Jeff off?” Mark suggested.

Noelle inclined her head, in a brief nod. Edward mumbled that he’d be right back, and with a firm hand on his son’s shoulder, turned him and urged him out the door.

“So your dad’s helping out with Jeff?”

Noelle nodded.

“Interesting.”

“Why is that interesting?” Skye asked.

“’Cause Ed and Noelle’s dad don’t exactly get along. No wonder he’s sleeping here.” He turned to Noelle. “Not that he wouldn’t want to be near you.”

A smile curved her lips, amused at Mark’s backpedaling.

“So what’re you guys scheming now?” Edward asked as he returned. “Whenever she has that grin on her face, those two are plotting something,” he told Skye.

Edward looked thinner. Deep lines creased his forehead and cheeks, and Skye found his forced cheerfulness uncomfortable. She knew he was skilled at hiding his feelings—she’d observed it often—yet not tonight. The fact that he even tried to pretend around Noelle—his wife who knew him so well—was as ridiculous as it was heartrending.

“We’re not plotting anything. Stop being so paranoid,” Mark said. “What’s that all about?”

Edward turned until his back faced Noelle, so she couldn’t read the concern and exhaustion laid out on his face. “Jeff’s having a bit of trouble dealing with the situation.” He spoke over his shoulder to Noelle. “But I’m taking care of it.”

“Looks like it,” Mark said.

“He’s fine. I’m handling it.”

Jeff wasn’t fine, and Edward might be handling it, but not well.

Edward sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He stared at Skye in warning. “Not a word.”

Again? Geeze. How many times was he going to remind her?
She nodded.

“Jeff feels responsible for Noelle’s accident. While I can understand his guilt, I don’t know how to convince him it was a mistake—we all did dumb things as kids, and we got through it. We’ll get through this, too. The psychologist says to keep reassuring him, but it doesn’t seem to be working. He gets more combative every day.

“Well, the kid’s right. If he hadn’t taken off out of bounds, Noelle wouldn’t have gone in after him.” Mark’s harshness surprised Skye, but not enough that she missed what he’d revealed. Noelle got hurt saving Jeff? Skye kept her expression neutral. Wow, that’d make great copy.

“It’s over. He’s beaten himself up enough. Joseph says he’s not sleeping at night, and he found Jeff’s skis snapped in half—he’s learned his lesson.”

“Costly lesson,” Skye noted.

Edward glanced at her and nodded. “He needs to get back to school and keep busy. He spends hours every day reading to her—even while she sleeps. Obsessing at Noelle’s bedside isn’t doing Jeff any good.”

Skye wanted to disagree. A certain amount of obsessing was good. Natural—even necessary. When she made big mistakes, the only thing to make her feel better was to atone for it. But how could Jeff possibly make up for this? That’s a heavy load of guilt for anyone—let alone a fourteen-year-old kid.

Hmm... Interviewing Jeff would be an amazing angle to this story. She peeked at Jeff’s protective father. Not going to happen.

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll think of something to help him. Besides, kids are pretty resilient.” Mark moved closer to Noelle’s bedside. “So you’re doing okay? The surgery went fine? I know you’re gonna miss your metal head gear.” He leaned close and squinted at her head where the screws had been. “Now that there’s nothing plugging those holes in your head...”

“Shut up, Mark.” Skye didn’t wait hear to what disgusting quip Mark was about to utter. She smiled at Noelle. “Nice new mattress.”

The mattress inflated one side, thus easing Noelle onto the opposite side, then after a little while, it deflated that side and inflated the other side, effectively turning her.

Noelle smiled and nodded.

“It helps prevent bed sores.” Edward said. “And tomorrow Noelle starts speech therapy to learn to talk with the vent.”

“That’s great. No more having these monkeys guessing what you want—you can simply tell them.”

That garnered another nod from Noelle.

“So you think she’ll be here another few weeks?” Skye asked.

“Not here. It’s looking like she’ll graduate to a rehab place where they specialize in spinal injuries. They have all kinds of new technology and gizmos to help Noelle in the day-to-day stuff until she’s better,” Edward said.

Skye mentally winced at his choice of words. “Graduating” sounded an awful lot like Niki’s being “upgraded” to class four heart failure—some upgrade. Were they sending Noelle to rehab because the doctors felt they’d done all they could for her, and this was as good as she’d get, or could patients with these types of injuries continue to improve under specialized care? Was there any real hope that Noelle might sit up again, let alone walk?

“So the surgery went well. When will they know how much movement she may recover?” Mark asked.

“They have to wait for the swelling to abate. Nothing will be final until sometime next week at the earliest. But we’re pretty hopeful.” Edward smiled and gently patted Noelle’s shoulder. “Aren’t we, honey?”

Noelle nodded sleepily. Her eyes drifted shut.

“She gets a little better each day. She can turn her head from side to side—that’s huge. Hopefully, she’ll recover far enough so she can breathe on her own. That’s our next big milestone. Right, sweetheart?”

Edward seemed to need to stay closer to Noelle than he had in past visits. He touched her face and hair a lot. Skye wondered if that was because Noelle was more cognizant this time or because Edward was scared silly and he wasn’t nearly as optimistic as he sounded.

“Not to bug you, but have you guys decided about the regenerative therapy?” Mark asked.

“You mean using your donated cells to grow neurons to transplant,” Edward clarified.

“It’s still experimental, but they’ve had some remarkable results. It’s a good option.” He reached a hand out. “Just talk to Eileen again.”

“We will if it comes to that, but there’s a less risky program started in Israel. A Denver hospital does it now, too. We’re hoping to get her into it.”

“Really?” Mark brightened.

Edward began slowly, as if hesitant to share the information with them. “It’s an experimental, FDA-approved trial in Denver that Noelle borderline qualifies for. It was pioneered in Israel and seems to have less potential for complications and adverse reactions than stem cell transplants.”