“Yeah,” Page said through her tears. “I used to think that made a difference too, but it didn't, did it? It took me years to even go to a doctor after that. I always thought I'd be molested or raped. I didn't even go to the doctor half the time when I was pregnant, I was so afraid of what would happen. He was a great guy, our Dad, a wonderful man, a terrific doctor.”
“He was a saint,” Maribelle Addison said protectively, “and you know it.” Alexis had moved instinctively closer to her, and the two women were huddled together, and it was clear that they were never going to admit what had happened.
“You know what's sad?” Page said, looking at them. “You disappeared after all that, Alex. You married David at eighteen, and you got a new identity, new face, new boobs, new eyes, new everything, so you didn't have to be Alexis anymore. You could be someone else so you could pretend it never happened.” Alexis made not a sound as she listened. It was too threatening to her, now more than ever.
“Come on,” Brad said quietly to Page, sorry that it had happened. Too much had happened to her lately. “Don't do this to yourself.”
“No?” She turned to look at him. “Why not? Do you think I can pretend it never happened, like they do? Maybe I should do that with you too, pretend you're not out every night screwing around, pretend everything is wonderful and perfect. What a nice life …except that I would kill myself if I tried to do that. I haven't lived this long, and come this far, and suffered this much in order to pretend I believe in a lot of bullshit.”
“Maybe other people can't handle that much honesty. Did you ever think of that?” he said sadly.
“A lot.”
“They need places to hide in.”
“I can't live like that, Brad.”
“I know,” he said softly, “I always loved that about you.” But he had said it in the past tense and she had heard it.
Her mother and sister escaped from the kitchen then, and Page stood there for a moment trying to catch her breath as he watched her. “Are you all right?” He was worried about her, but he also knew that he couldn't give her what she needed. He didn't have it to give her anymore. That was just the way it was. And for once, it was honest.
“I don't know,” she said honestly. “I guess I'm glad I said it. I've always wondered if she has denial and she believes all that shit, or she just lies, to cover up for him, like she did then.”
“Maybe it doesn't matter. She's never going to admit the truth to you, Page, and neither is Alexis. You know that. Don't expect it.” She nodded. It had been a terrible night, but in some ways it had freed her. She went outside to sit alone for a while, and then she decided to go to the hospital to see Allyson. It was late, but all of a sudden she needed to see her. She told Brad before she went out, and she was sitting quietly in ICU a few minutes later. This time, she didn't say anything. She just sat there, thinking of everything Allyson had been before the accident, and missing her. It had been three weeks now.
“Mrs. Clarke, are you all right?” One of the night nurses noticed her at nine o'clock. She looked shaken and pale, and she was sitting so still, just staring at her daughter. Page nodded, and just sat there, until Trygve came by half an hour later.
“I wondered if you were here.” He spoke softly amidst the whirring and puffing of the machines. “I don't know why, I just had a feeling you were. I've been thinking about you.” He smiled, but then he noticed her eyes. She looked terrible, and she looked as though she'd been crying. “Are you okay?”
“More or less.” She shrugged with a tired smile. “I kind of lost it tonight.”
“Did it help?”
“I'm not sure. Not really. It won't change anything, but I got a lot off my chest.”
“Then maybe it was worth it.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” She didn't seem sure as she looked at him, and he saw again that she looked ravaged. Allyson was the same, so he knew she hadn't had bad news about her. It was everything else.
“Want to come have a cup of coffee?” She shrugged again, but she followed him out as the nurse watched them. She felt so sorry for her. It had been a long haul, and so far there wasn't much hope her daughter would get any better. She hated cases like that, they were so hard on everyone, especially when it involved kids. Sometimes, she thought to herself, it was simpler if you lost them. But she never would have said that to the parents.
He handed her a cup of coffee from a machine, and she still hadn't said anything. He was getting more and more worried about her. They sat down in the ICU waiting room and her eyes looked huge in her face, and bluer than he had ever seen them.
“What's happening?” he asked gently as she took a slow sip of the hot coffee.
“I don't know … I guess it's all getting to me …Allie …Brad …my mother….”