Читать книгу Missing Pieces - Heather Gudenkauf - Страница 11

4

BEFORE SHE EVEN opened her eyes, Sarah felt warm sunshine on her face. The sheets still had the crispness of laundry hung on a line, and for a moment she basked in the tranquillity of morning, allowing herself to forget for a moment the chaos and uncertainty of the day before.

She wanted to talk to Jack privately before they left for the hospital, about what she had learned from Hal last night, about why he had lied to her for all these years and about why he now seemed to be evading her. She lifted her head and turned to the side, but the space next to her was empty.

Stiff jointed and achy, she climbed out of bed and looked around the bedroom that Jack slept in as a teenager. She was hoping to find some clues, some insights into his childhood, into the life he led before he met her. There were no athletic trophies on the bookshelf and no bulletin board plastered with photos and mementos. She picked up a few random books from the bookshelf and riffled through the pages. There were no carnation corsages pressed between the pages, no concert stubs or baseball tickets. Of course, it had been over twenty-five years since Jack had lived here. Julia and Hal had most likely redecorated years ago and used this as a room for guests.

A small oak desk sat in the corner of the room and she pulled out the drawers, each empty except for a few stray paper clips and ballpoint pens. Instead of clothing, the tall dresser held neatly folded tablecloths and bed linens. She opened the closet door to find it empty except for two heavy winter coats hanging from the metal bar and a shoe box with Jack’s name on it on the top shelf. Jack pushed open the door. “How’d you sleep?” he asked.

Startled, she closed the closet door and turned to face him. “Okay,” she answered. But she hadn’t slept well at all. For what felt like hours she had lain next to him in the dark, tossing and turning, her mind racing with questions, restless about how to confront Jack. Where would she even start, and how would Jack react?

She searched for the words, knowing she had to be careful or Jack would shut her down in an instant. “Last night, Hal told me your real last name is Tierney,” she blurted, unable to mask the accusation in her voice. “Is that true?”

Jack looked at her blankly. “You knew that,” he said. “I told you that after we started dating.”

Sarah shook her head. She would remember if Jack had told her. “No, you didn’t.”

“Of course I did. You must have forgotten.”

“Jack,” she said more firmly, and he sighed in frustration.

“You already know this, Sarah. After Amy and I went to live with Hal and Julia, we had our name legally changed to Quinlan. I was fifteen, Amy was eleven. Hal and Julia became our legal guardians and they were all the family we had left in the world. It just seemed easier.”

Maybe she was overreacting about the name change, but that still didn’t explain why he had kept it from her.

“Hal also told me that you and Celia dated in high school. Why didn’t you tell me these things? Why the secrecy?”

“Sarah, there are no secrets!” Jack exclaimed, his face reddening. “Celia and I hung out when we were young. Hell, I hung out with a lot of people. It’s a small town.” Jack grabbed his watch from the dresser. “I really can’t deal with this right now. Why can’t you just drop it?”

“I’m not trying to fight with you,” Sarah said quietly. “I’m just trying to understand.”

Jack sat down on the bed and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t want to fight, either. I’m sorry if I didn’t tell you. I really thought I had. And me and Celia, it was nothing, just kid stuff.” He reached for her hand and she reluctantly took it. His skin felt warm, reassuring. “Hal’s downstairs waiting to go to the hospital. Are you ready?”

They drove to the hospital separately, with Hal and Jack in the truck and Sarah following behind, alone, in the rental car. The rain-washed fields glittered with moisture and puffy white clouds moved leisurely across the blue sky. It was a beautiful morning, but still Sarah felt uneasy, off balance. The highway was lined with wooden telephone poles that reminded Sarah of crucifixes where sharp-eyed hawks and hook-beaked shrikes perched in wait.

Jack was confident he had told her about changing his last name, but she racked her memory. No, she would have remembered if he told her, she was sure of it. As for Celia, what had Hal said? That they were inseparable? That certainly sounded like more than just hanging out. She was so engrossed in her thoughts she lost sight of Hal’s truck and pressed on the accelerator in hopes of catching up.

When Sarah finally pulled into the parking lot, she could see Jack and Hal already entering the hospital. She knew that Hal was anxious to check on Julia and she felt childish for being disappointed that they hadn’t waited for her.

Sarah waited for the excruciatingly slow elevator and when she stepped out onto the fifth-floor landing Jack and Hal were nowhere to be seen. Sarah caught sight of Celia, hands full, heading down the hall toward Julia’s room, and Sarah hurried to catch up with her.

“Good morning,” Sarah said breathlessly as she pushed Julia’s door open for Celia.

“Good morning,” Celia said, looking well rested and refreshed. Sarah saw Celia with new eyes now that she knew she and Jack were once an item. She was beautiful. Slim and fit. Her black curls were pulled back from her face and she was perfectly put together in sharply creased khakis and a neatly pressed blouse. Sarah looked down and was dismayed to see that her long-sleeve T-shirt and jeans were hopelessly rumpled from being stored in her suitcase.

Celia came bearing fresh-cut purple asters from her garden. “The last of the season,” she said as she set the vase on Julia’s windowsill. Amy was curled up in a chair next to Julia’s bed, looking even more diminished than the day before. She stiffened as Celia leaned over Julia’s bed and adjusted her pillow.

“How was Julia’s night?” Sarah asked. The room was eerily quiet, and she sensed a palpable tension between Celia and Amy. She hoped Jack and Hal would arrive soon.

Amy rubbed her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “She hasn’t woken up yet, but the nurse said her vitals are stable.”

“That’s good news,” Celia said. “Now maybe you can go home and get some rest.”

“I’m fine,” Amy said shortly. She stood and stretched. “Where are Hal and Jack?”

“They peeked in on Julia for a few minutes and then the doctor wanted to go over a few of Julia’s tests with them,” Celia explained. “When’s the last time you’ve eaten? Why don’t you go down to the cafeteria and get something?”

“Jesus, Celia, I said I’m fine,” Amy answered, crossing her arms in front of her just as a high-pitched beeping erupted from Julia’s heart monitor.

“What’s happening?” Amy asked fearfully as all eyes swung toward Julia. Julia’s body went rigid, her face contorting into a tight grimace. The heavy hospital bed rocked with her spasms and Julia’s eyes opened and rolled back into her head so that only the whites showed.

“Go get someone,” Sarah yelled, frantically reaching for the nurse’s call button. Celia hurried from the room in search of help.

“Do something!” Amy beseeched, her eyes wide and panicked.

Moments later, Celia raced into the room with two nurses. Jack, Hal and Dean were close behind. “What’s happening?” Hal shouted in horror as Julia convulsed in the bed. Jack reached for Sarah’s hand and squeezed it tightly.

“She’s having a seizure,” one of the nurses said as they expertly rolled Julia onto her side. She produced a syringe and injected it directly into Julia’s IV. Her body shuddered violently.

“What is that? What did you do?” Amy cried.

“Lorazepam,” a nurse said, her voice caught in the frenzy of the beeping machines and Julia’s moans. “To stop the seizure.”

“Why is she making that noise?” Hal asked helplessly. “Is she in pain?”

“It isn’t working,” Amy yelled, pushing her way to Julia’s bedside. She bumped the vase of flowers and it cartwheeled and shattered as it struck the floor. Shards of glass flew everywhere and a puddle of water formed on the floor next to Sarah’s feet.

Sarah sidled back into a corner, trying to stay out of the way as Jack tried to pull Amy from Julia’s bedside where she was grasping for Julia and getting in the way of the nurses. “Let them do their work,” he urged.

“It’s not working. The medicine isn’t helping,” Amy cried. “Please make it stop,” she begged as Julia continued to writhe in her bed, a foul odor rising from the sheets. Amy clapped a hand over her nose and mouth.

The seconds ticked by like hours. The nurse grabbed another syringe and injected it into the IV. How long could this last? Sarah wondered.

Slowly, Julia’s body relaxed, her face smoothed and her hands uncurled, but the heart machine continued to beep rapidly.

“What’s wrong?” Amy asked the nurses who were standing over Julia, watching her carefully. “Why is it still making that sound? Don’t just stand there, do something!”

“She has a do-not-resuscitate order,” Dean said under his breath, so softly that Sarah was sure she was the only one who heard him.

“Do something,” Amy pressed, her voice rising as she spiraled into hysteria. She clutched onto the nurse’s sleeve violently, begging her not to let her aunt die.

“She’s DNR,” Dean repeated, this time more loudly.

“What does that mean?” Amy cried as she leaned into Jack, tears streaming down her face. “Why aren’t they helping her? Make them help her.”

“They can’t. She doesn’t want any heroic measures keeping her alive,” Dean explained.

The heart monitor blipped frenetically and Amy pressed her hands to her ears as if trying to block out the sound. Gradually, Julia’s chest stopped moving and the beeps stretched into one continuous, mournful cry.

“No!” Amy cried as she pulled away from Jack and lunged toward the bed. “Please don’t leave me,” she begged, pressing her lips against Julia’s warm cheek. Amy lowered her head and her brokenhearted keening became entangled with the mechanical scream of the heart monitor until they became one. A nurse reached over and turned off the machine. The only sound in the room was Amy’s weeping.

Hal approached his wife’s side on unsteady legs and reached for her hand. A dry sob came from deep within his chest; he leaned over the bedside rail and murmured into Julia’s ear.

Sarah watched as Hal went slack with helplessness. She went to his side and reached for his hand. His fingers were ice-cold.

Dean tried to stifle a cry and Celia buried herself in his chest. Hal slowly lowered himself into a chair, his face a map of disbelief.

A nurse carefully removed the oxygen mask from Julia’s face and began to unhook the monitors from her chest. “Stop,” Amy yelled, clawing at the nurse’s arm again, trying to pull her away from the machines. Her eyes were filled with fury.

“Amy!” Celia exclaimed in horror as the nurse, wide-eyed, tried to shake her off. Celia grabbed Amy’s hands and she released the nurse, whose arm was lined with angry red scratches that bloomed with blood.

Sarah watched in disbelief as Amy squirmed from Celia’s grasp and shoved past them, out of the room.

“Are you okay?” Celia asked.

“I’m fine,” the nurse said, clearly shaken, blotting her bloody arm with a tissue.

“Shouldn’t someone go after her?” Sarah asked, heart pounding.

“No, just let her go,” Jack said. “Let her cool off.”

“Jesus Christ, she’s fucking crazy,” Dean hissed, his voice tense with anger.

“Please!” Hal interjected. “For God’s sake, have some respect for your mother.” Everyone froze and a mix of shame and grief washed over them. Hal’s head fell heavy in his hands and the room filled with the soft sobs of a man who just lost his wife. “Fifty years,” he said mournfully. “We were married fifty years.” He looked up from his hands, his eyes wet and bloodshot. “Fifty years and she had to leave me this way?”

The nurse watched from the doorway as Jack’s family seemed to collapse under the weight of their own grief. “I’ll have to ask you to step out for a few minutes, Mr. Quinlan,” she said kindly. “We’ll take care of your wife and get the room cleaned up, then you can come back in and take as much time as you need.”

The room looked like a war zone. The floor was slick with water and flower petals. Shards of glass from the broken vase crunched beneath their feet. Hal remained by Julia’s side until Dean gently took his arm and guided him from the room. Sarah bent down and picked up the handmade quilt that had fallen to the floor. She folded it neatly and draped it over the back of a chair.

Jack paused at Julia’s bedside and looked down at the woman who had welcomed him into her home after his parents had died. He whispered into her ear and lightly brushed her cheek with his fingers.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the nurse said. “We have to ask you all to step out, please.”

Sarah held her hand out to Jack. Together they stepped into the hallway and Sarah pulled him into her arms. “It’s going to be okay,” she murmured. She felt Jack’s heart thrumming against his chest.

Jack released Sarah and went to his uncle. “She loved you,” Hal said, taking Jack’s hands in his own. “You and Amy, just like you were her own. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know,” Jack replied, his voice hoarse with emotion. “She always believed in me. No matter what.”

Sarah embraced Hal. “Is there anyone I can call for you?”

“I know who to call,” Celia interjected in a way that struck Sarah as oddly aggressive.

“What about Amy?” Sarah asked. “Do you think someone should go check on her?”

“I think it’s probably best to just let her be for a while,” Celia answered. “Let her catch her breath.”

Sarah wrapped her arms around Jack’s waist, and he rested his chin on top of her head. “Did you know Julia had a do-not-resuscitate order?” she asked.

“No. And Amy must have not known, either. I’ve never seen her act like that before.”

“I should call the girls, let them know what’s going on.”

“No, not yet.”

“I could make arrangements to have them fly here?” Sarah offered.

“No,” Jack said quickly.

Sarah pulled back and looked up at him. “But...”

“Sarah,” he said in exasperation. “I said no.”

Sarah didn’t understand Jack’s reluctance to bring the girls to Penny Gate. They should be here with them. That’s what families did; they were there to support one another when times were difficult.

The tension between them was broken by the sound of determined footsteps. They shifted their gaze down the long corridor, where a woman in a long white doctor’s coat and a man who appeared to be a security guard were approaching with quick, long strides.

“This can’t be good,” Jack said in a low voice. “Can you find Amy?”

Sarah hesitated, glancing at Jack with uncertainty.

“Sarah, please just go!”

She started down the hallway, hurt by Jack’s harsh tone. When she reached the end of the hallway, she turned to see the doctor and security guard confront Jack in the doorway of Julia’s room. He held up his hands in placation, as if trying to calm them.

The nurses must have alerted security about Amy’s outburst and they were coming to...what? Escort Amy from the building? Detain her until the police came to arrest her? Sarah quickened her pace, though she wasn’t sure what she would say to Amy if she found her. Should she tell her to run, to get out of there as quickly as possible? Or should she try to convince her to come back upstairs to talk things through?

Once again she bypassed the elevator and raced down the stairs and through the lobby. The automatic doors slid open and Sarah saw Amy shivering on a bench just outside the hospital entrance. A brisk wind had swept the clear skies away and replaced them with dark clouds heavy with rain. Amy had stopped crying and was blankly staring upward, a cigarette pressed to her lips. She had one arm wrapped protectively around her waist, the same way that Jack always did.

“Amy.” Sarah cautiously approached her sister-in-law. “I’m so sorry about Julia. Are you okay?”

“I can’t believe she’s gone.” Amy swiped at her nose with the back of one hand. “I can’t believe she’s really dead.” She pressed the heels of her hands against her bloodshot eyes. “I really freaked out up there. Did I hurt that nurse?”

“Just a few scratches.” Sarah sat down on the bench. “She’s fine. But everyone’s worried about you.”

“I bet Dean went ape shit.” She gave a short bark of laughter and then started to cry again.

Sarah wasn’t sure what to say. She barely knew Amy, but what she did know was that she was volatile and unpredictable. But this was Jack’s sister and she also knew that Amy loved her aunt and was grieving terribly. Sarah slid closer to her and put an arm around Amy’s thin shoulders. “Do you want to come back inside?” she asked once Amy’s cries subsided. “I bet if you apologize to the nurse, she’ll forget the whole thing.”

“I can’t go back in there,” Amy said, taking a shaky drag on her cigarette. “Not now, anyway.” She gave the cigarette a tap and watched the long ash fall to the concrete below. In her other hand she held what looked to be a round silver charm. The kind you might find on a bracelet or on a necklace.

Amy caught Sarah looking and held it out for her to see. Engraved on one side was a cross and on the other was the word faith. “It was lying next to Aunt Julia when I found her. I was going to hold on to it until she woke up and then give it back to her.” She shook her head. “I don’t think I can face them.” She looked up toward Julia’s room. “It’s all my fault.”

“What do you mean it’s your fault?” Sarah asked.

Amy didn’t answer. She dropped the cigarette to the ground and squeezed the charm tightly in her palm. “Amy,” Sarah prodded. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Maybe if I had gotten there fifteen minutes earlier...”

“You can’t think that way about it. You’ll drive yourself crazy,” Sarah said. “Just think about what could have happened if you hadn’t shown up when you did.”

Amy shrugged, unconvinced. “When are you leaving town?”

“We’ll stay for the funeral, of course, but will probably need to go home soon after.”

Amy nodded and lit another cigarette. “That’s probably a good idea. People who stay around here too long either die or go crazy. Jack had the right idea. He left Penny Gate as soon as he could and didn’t look back. If my mom would have just left...” Amy trailed off.

“You can’t blame the accident on your mom’s decision to stay in Penny Gate,” Sarah said. “There’s no way to know what would have been different.”

“‘The accident’?” Amy gave a skeptical snort. “Is that what Jack is calling it these days?” She stood, took a deep pull on the cigarette and blew a stream of smoke out of the corner of her mouth. “You need to talk to your husband,” Amy said as she started to walk away. “You know Jack. Always full of secrets.”

Sarah’s stomach clenched. What else hadn’t Jack told her? She watched as Amy walked away, her gaunt frame hunched against the sharp wind. She considered chasing after her but to what end?

Maybe she had been overreacting about Jack’s name, and even about Celia. But Jack was definitely keeping something from her. Something important.