“I can stay at a hotel, or rent a furnished place in the city at 2000 Broadway.” But Page also realized that it was the perfect opportunity for him to be with Stephanie, and not have to deal with his wife's reproaches and accusations. Given the circumstances, she wasn't even sure she blamed him, though it would certainly be difficult to explain to Andy.
“I don't know what to say,” Page said, looking at him, saddened by his suggestion. They had come a long way in a short time, to a place she had never dreamed they would get to. But as she looked at him pensively, the phone interrupted them, and she grabbed for it instantly in case it was about Allie. It was in fact the hospital. Allie's brain was swelling more, and the pressure was becoming too dangerous for her now. If there was no improvement, they wanted to operate in the morning. And they wanted her or Brad to sign the papers again in case they had to. They felt comfortable waiting through the night, unless something changed, but in all likelihood they felt she'd need surgery the following morning. It was her second brain surgery in four days, but Dr. Hammerman said there was no choice. Just like the first time they had operated, if they didn't, she wouldn't make it.
“They want to operate again?” Brad looked at her grimly and Page nodded. “And then what? Again and again … for chrissake, how often?”
“Maybe as often as they have to …until she gets well again …until her brain goes back to normal.”
“And if it doesn't?” He repeated his earlier concerns but Page didn't want to hear it. For her it didn't change anything.
“If it doesn't, she's still our daughter. I'm going to sign the papers, Brad. She has a right to everything they can do for her.” She would have fought him to the death if he tried to stop her, but in spite of what was happening to them, he was a reasonable man, and he wanted what was best for Allie. Page looked at him angrily, but the fight went out of him as he watched her.
“Do whatever you have to, Page.” He went to their bedroom then, and lay down on the bed, thinking about Allyson, and how wonderful she had been. It was almost hard to remember now, looking at the creature she'd become, lying in the hospital, broken almost beyond recognition. “Are you sleeping there tonight?” he asked, as Page walked in, and took her nightgown out of her closet. But she shook her head and looked at him.
“I thought I'd sleep with Andy.”
“You can sleep here.” He smiled hesitantly. “I'll behave myself. I still can, you know.” They exchanged a rare smile. But they had come to a sad crossroads in their life when it became an issue of who would sleep where, and whether or not he would move out. She felt, once again, as though she were living in a nightmare.
She lay in the narrow bed holding Andy for a long time that night, and the tears seemed to flow endlessly until her ears filled with them and the back of her throat, and her pillow was drenched. She had so much to mourn, so much she had taken for granted, and it was all gone now.
Andy was surprised in the morning when he found his mother sleeping with him, but he didn't question it. He got up and got dressed, and she made breakfast for all three of them. He never mentioned his nightmare again, but he was quiet when she dropped him off at school. Brad had said he would meet her at the hospital later that morning. She had to be there by eight-fifteen to sign the papers. They wanted to operate on her by ten, and this time Brad had promised that he'd be there.
Chapter 8
Page met the chief neurosurgeon outside ICU. There had been no improvement since the night before, so she signed the papers, and then went in to see her daughter. Allyson was still deeply comatose, all of the machines and monitors were on, but Page still managed to have a quiet moment with her. At that hour, there were no other visitors in ICU, and the nurses left them alone. They could monitor Allyson from the desk, where they could keep an eye on her monitors through their own screens and computers. Page sat quietly next to her, holding her hand and talking to her, touching her cheek from time to time, and she kissed her gently when they took her away at nine-thirty.
It was a long, lonely wait then, knowing that she was being prepared for surgery, and that if the operation was not successful, she clearly wouldn't make it. The pressure on her brain would cause extensive damage eventually, and the fractures and wounds could not heal with the ongoing trauma of the pressure.
Dr. Hammerman had told her that the operation would take eight to ten hours, and would once again be performed by the same team. It was almost routine, but in truth, it wasn't. It was terribly frightening. She had to fight to let herself think of the outcome. She couldn't allow herself to think of what might happen in the operating room, or if they came to tell her Allyson had died. She just couldn't bear it.
She looked anxious and pale when Brad finally arrived. He was half an hour later than he had said, but he had come, just as he'd promised.