“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.”