“What?”
“God forbid there’s an accident, you want Carl by your side. You should’ve seen him in action. There was no pediatric orthopedist or pediatric neurologist on call tonight. He made two very emphatic phone calls from the car and boom! There was a team waiting for us at the entrance of the ER. And a plastic surgeon. We really owe him. He even wanted to stay here all night. Just to watch over Max.”
“Really? Gosh, that’s awfully nice. Listen, if you think everything’s okay, tell him to drive your car home and I’ll bring it back. Are you hungry? Can I bring you anything?”
“No, I’m fine. But thanks.”
“You sound exhausted. I know I am,” I said.
“I haven’t even thought about that yet. I’m just relieved. God, Eliza, if he had hit his temple like just one more inch, we could’ve lost him.”
“Don’t even think it.”
chapter 8
bonded
1995–2008
On the terrible night of Max’s accident, I waited for Carl in the parking lot of our condo in Wild Dunes. I stood under a floodlight mounted on the side of the building, pacing, looking and listening for Adam’s car to appear. Finally, I heard the familiar approach of his engine as Carl pulled into our parking spot. He got out and even in the dark I could see that his shirt was caked with Max’s blood. The sight of it made me weak in the knees.
“How’s Max?”
“Fine. Don’t worry. He’s gonna be fine. Look, here’s the thing. With head injuries, you just have to keep watching for complications of concussion. But I saw the MRI. There’s nothing to be concerned about.”
As he handed me the car keys he took my hand in his and began to apologize for what he said to me before the accident, when we’d met unexpectedly in the bathroom.
“Look, I don’t know what I was thinking,” Carl said. “I am so sorry.”
I looked at him, almost having truly forgotten about the illicit kiss. Given the events of the day, I could not have cared less.
“It’s okay,” I said.
“No, really. If there’s anything I hate, it’s crass behavior.”
I smiled then but I was anxious to get to the hospital. I climbed into the car, started the engine, and rolled down the window.
“Maybe wine does something to you—you know, makes you overly frisky or something.”
“Maybe. Anyway, I apologize. I can’t help it if I am attracted to you.” He extended a hand for me to shake and I took it, shaking it quickly. “Friends?”
I thought about it for a minute. Carl was attractive to me as well, but hell would freeze before I let it get the better of me.
“Friends. You’re sure Max is okay?”
“He’ll be as good as new in no time,” Carl said. “Kids heal a lot faster than adults.”
“Right. Okay. And Carl? Thanks. I heard you were wonderful with Max tonight. See you in the morning.”
He gave me a nod and turned toward his condo. I put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking spot. I didn’t look down into the backseat to see what I was sure was a bloody mess. I couldn’t. I just wanted to be at Max’s side. Being upset about some ridiculous bit of grape-fueled flirtation was stupid. However notable the actual kiss may have been, what mattered was that Carl may well have saved my son’s life. He got my little boy to the hospital as fast as possible and, according to Adam, saw that he got the right care. I drove as quickly as I could without getting in an accident myself. And I all but ran through the parking lot and the corridors to Max’s room. I burst through the door and there was my son, sitting up in bed, head bandaged, arm in a soft cast and a sling, talking to Adam as though it was the middle of the afternoon, any day of the week.
“Well, here’s Mom!” Adam said.
“Mom! Hey! Am I in trouble?”
I went to his side, took him in my arms, and kissed him tenderly on his cheek.
“No, sweet boy. You are not in trouble.” Tears began to slide down my cheeks and I began to laugh, truly incredulous, relieved in every fiber of my being, and exhausted all at once. “You’re not in trouble. You are trouble!”
I had thought that we would go home to the country when Max was released, but as Eve pointed out the next morning, if we stayed rather than cutting our vacation short, Max would have his own personal pediatrician looking over him for the balance of their time there. And he did. Carl absolutely doted on him, taking him back to the pediatric orthopedist to have his hard cast set and showing him how to slide a bamboo chopstick up or down the inside of his cast to quell an itch. Of course, he showed him how to cover it to take a shower. The cast, which stretched from his upper arm down and over his hand, was a cumbersome thing that caused him no end of bother. No one blamed him when he complained.
Clarabeth and Ted couldn’t do enough for Max. Even little Daphne, the once and future heartbreaker, spent time just sitting next to him on the sofa. Cookie, however, didn’t get involved except to seem to think (almost out loud) that Max’s situation was his own stupid fault and he was lucky to be alive.
As a result of all of the attention, Max’s spirits remained high. He began to heal quite nicely and quite quickly. But he still had occasional headaches and was more reticent than before. Even though I offered to affix a combo of plastic wrap and a plastic bag over the cast so he could cannonball, he wouldn’t go in the pool. The most we could get him to do was to sit in the kiddie pool when the temperature rose to a fires-of-hell level.
Over the remainder of our vacation, Luke was slowly transformed into an alpha male. He began to blossom, taking small but obvious leadership roles in which game they would play or what they would watch on television. And he was especially nice to Max, even protective.
“I’m getting a juice box,” Luke said to Max and Daphne. “Y’all want one?”
They were glued to an animated movie on television and they nodded like bobbleheads.
“Good idea, Luke!” I said. “You kids know when it’s hot like this it’s important to drink a lot of fluids, right? I’ll get them for you.”
“Luke calling the shots is a good thing,” Adam said to me, popping the top from a bottle of beer. “I never liked Luke being a follower all the time.”
“I agree,” I said. “No reason why they both can’t be leaders.” I looked at my watch. “A beer before noon?”
“Just hydrating,” Adam said. He blew me a kiss on his way out of the kitchen. “Besides, I suffered another humiliating defeat this morning on the golf course.”
“Comfort drinking cannot be a good thing, sweetie.” Well, he’s on vacation, I thought. Just then I had another thought. We excused each other’s weaknesses, and that forgiveness is probably, no, definitely, an important key to the success of any long-term relationship. So is an occasional blind eye.