“Just what you need right now. Did Brad go with you?”
Page shook her head. “Trygve Thorensen took me. We saw the Senator's wife, looking appropriately grief-stricken and very proper. Frankly, I thought it took a lot of guts for her to be there. Trygve thought she did it for PR, and was playing to the reporters, to make sure everyone knows how innocent she is.”
“Is she?” Jane asked honestly.
“I'm beginning to think we'll never know. Probably no one was at fault, it was just a lot of bad luck and bad timing.”
“I'll say …there were reporters there?”
“TV cameras, and some photographers from the newspapers. I guess it's big stuff because of Mrs. Hutchinson, and it tears your heart out seeing those kids.” Not to mention the parents.
“The piece in the paper I read yesterday seemed to imply, more or less, that it was the Chapman boy's fault. Is that just talk, or is it real? Was he really drinking?”
“Apparently not enough to matter. And I hear Mr. Chapman is planning to sue the paper to clear Phillip's name. As I said, there's no evidence either way to prove whose fault it might have been. Neither his, nor Mrs. Hutchinson's, but he's a kid, and he had half a glass of wine …and two cups of coffee.” She and Trygve had talked it to death, and the story still stayed the same. It was an accident. It was no one's fault apparently. And she didn't blame the Chapmans for wanting to clear their son's name. He was a great kid, and he deserved to die with his fine reputation, if only for their sakes.
By then Andy had spotted her and he came running to meet her. He was wearing his baseball uniform and he looked so cute, she almost cried when she saw him. He looked so normal and healthy, it reminded her of only days before when she had taken him to his game, and everything seemed so simple. Allie wasn't in a coma then, and Brad hadn't confessed that he was cheating.
“And how was your day, Mr. Andrew Clarke?” she asked, beaming at him as he threw his arms around her.
“Great. I scored a home run!” He was pleased with himself, and she was happy to see him.
“You're terrific.”
He was thrilled to see her too, and then he looked up at her worriedly. “Are you going back to the hospital now? Am I staying here?”
“No, you're coming home with me.” She had decided to take a night off, for his sake. She knew how badly he needed it, and she wanted to be there for him. And as long as Allie's condition didn't change, she felt she could do it. She had decided to make dinner for him, more than just frozen pizza, and she wanted to sit down and talk to him, so he didn't feel so neglected.
“Can Dad do a barbecue?” She didn't know if Brad was coming home or staying out again, and she didn't want to promise anything, so she told him he couldn't. “Okay. We'll just have regular dinner then.” He seemed delighted at the prospect, and they went home a few minutes later.
She made hamburgers and baked potatoes for him, and a big green salad with avocados and tomatoes in it, and she was surprised when she heard Brad come in just as they were sitting down to dinner. She hadn't really expected him, but she had made enough to feed him too, just in case he did come home.
“Dad!” Andy shouted excitedly, and Page could see in his little face how desperately he needed contact with them. He was deeply worried.
“What a surprise!” Page said, not quite under her breath, and Brad shot her a dark look.
“Let's not start that, Page,” he said irritably. He had had a long day too, and he had made a point of coming home for dinner, for his son's sake. “Have you got enough?” he asked curtly, glancing at the table set for two, and the dinner she was serving Andy.
“No problem,” she said, and served him a full plate a moment later. Andy was telling his father about the game, and his home run in the fourth inning. He rattled on about his friends at school. He was like a little sponge soaking up whatever moments they had for him, whatever time they could spare from his desperately injured sister. Watching him made Page aware again of how frightened he was, and how much he needed them right now. In his own way, he was as scared as she was. And in some ways it was worse for him because he hadn't seen his sister.
“Can I go to the hospital to see Allie this weekend?” he asked as he finished his baked potato. Page was pleased to see that he had eaten well, and he looked more relaxed than he had at the beginning of dinner. But she still didn't think he was ready to see his sister. Her condition was too frightening, the danger still too acute. And if she died, Page didn't want him to have that as his last memory of Allie.