Melissa Good - Thicker Than Water

Dar managed a brief smile. “I know I’m not wanted here, but I couldn’t let her go through this alone.” She held the door open for Angie to pass. “Besides, unfriendly family isn’t exactly foreign to me.”

Angie sighed as she walked inside and Dar followed. “I know. I just wish it wasn’t so damned hard. The whole situation’s so lousy, and then on top of it…Oh, crap.”

Dar glanced ahead of them to where Kerry was standing, Thicker Than Water 69

bracketed by two older men. Her body posture was so defensive it brought an immediate response from Dar, who brushed past two vaguely familiar looking women and bore down on Kerry with determined strides.

“Uncle Albert, you don’t have a right to ask me to leave,”

Kerry said firmly. “This is my father—”

“You sure didn’t think of that when you turned against him, did you?” her uncle snapped, his face flushed. “Look, I’m not going to stand here and argue. I’m not going to put up with my brother being mocked by the likes of you, you little traitor. Get your ass out of this hospital before I throw you out.”

Kerry felt a wild rush of anger that was so unexpected, it almost made her lightheaded. “You just try it.” She balled her fists. “You stupid, useless windbag. I haven’t even seen you since I was twelve. Now you show up here like you own the place, like you matter?”

“Might have figured it was you giving someone bullshit,” Dar said.

Kerry’s uncle turned and stared in utter shock.

A cold smile graced Dar’s face. “Aren’t you going to say hello, Al? Or did you forget what I looked like after I fired your ass for the rankest incompetence in the history of business?”

“You son of a—”

“Oh no.” Dar slipped between him and Kerry, very aware of the watching crowd. “I didn’t have a dick then and I don’t now, but let me tell you, Al, you say one more nasty word to Kerrison and you won’t have one either, because I’ll pull it off and beat you to death with it.”

The elevator doors opened into a frozen silence. Dar put out a long arm and blocked them from closing. “Ladies first.” She motioned Kerry and Angie to go on, then joined them in the car, and let the doors close before anyone else could get on.

The sound of Angie pushing the elevator button was loud as they all took a breath at the same time. “Wow.” Angie wiped her brow. “This isn’t a good way to start the day, is it?”

Kerry turned and looked at Dar. “Uh…”

Dar had been staring at the doors, now she turned and exhaled. “Sorry. Temper got the better of me.”

“It’s okay.” Kerry lifted a slightly shaking hand. “Better yours than mine, Dar. I was about to start swinging at him.” Dar slipped an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned gratefully against Dar’s tall form. “Sorry we left Richard down there with them, Ang.”

“He’ll live.” Angie shrugged. “I’m sorry. After the past few days and listening to all the righteous bullshit I’ve had to listen 70 Melissa Good to, with daddy in here helpless, I’m just…damn it to hell…over it.”

Kerry peeked at her. “Angela, that’s the most curse words I’ve ever heard you use.”

“Yeah, well.” Angie drew in a long breath and let it out. “I’ve been spending time on the Internet, what can I tell you?” The doors opened and she exited, followed by Dar and Kerry. They turned to the right and went to the waiting room of the critical care unit.

Cynthia Stuart was already there, alone. She was sitting in one of the chairs, her hands folded in her lap, her body in an attitude of pained patience. She looked up as they entered. “Oh, Angela…Kerrison…I’m...” Her eyes slipped past them and rested on Dar. “Oh.”

Kerry heard the elevator doors opening behind them, and she figured the entire situation was either going to resolve itself or turn into an undignified free for all more suited to the soccer field than a hospital. “Mother—”

Cynthia stood, brushed past her, and stopped in front of Dar with a serious expression. She held out both hands. “I’m so glad you came.”

It was one of the last things Dar had expected to hear. She clasped Cynthia’s hands in sheer reflex, her battle ready mind scrambling to reassess the startling attitude. “I’m sorry,” she managed to get out. “I really am,” she added in a softer tone.

“As am I,” Cynthia replied. “For many things.”

Loud voices at the doorway made them both turn. Kerry’s uncles entered with Richard and one or two others. They all stopped and stared at Dar, who stared impassively back, her hands still clasped in Cynthia’s.

The tension in the room was shattered when the inner door opened and a tall, good looking man entered, wearing a white lab coat over a set of green surgical scrubs. Everyone’s attention went to him, and he paused, collecting his thoughts before he continued.

Dar released Cynthia’s hands and stepped quietly back to join Kerry, who slipped a hand around her arm as they waited for the doctor to speak.

“Hello, Doctor Bridges,” Cynthia said quietly. “How are things this morning?”

The doctor’s lips tensed a bit in compassion before he put a hand on her shoulder and walked her to a seat. He sat next to her and rested his elbows on his knees as everyone else sat across from them.

“There’s been no change, Mrs. Stuart,” Dr. Bridges told her Thicker Than Water 71

gently. “You know we didn’t expect there to be any; we talked about that yesterday.”

Cynthia Stuart looked very small and very alone. “Yes, I know. But you live your whole life thinking prayer can change things, so you do what you can.” Her eyes searched the doctor’s face. “It seems so odd, with everything we can do these days, that nothing can be done for my husband.”

Dr. Bridges nodded, seeming to accept the gentle rebuke.

“Sometimes we can achieve what appear to be miracles, that’s true. But some things are still beyond us, and restoring energy in a brain where there’s none left is one of those things.”

Not caring who was watching, Dar put an arm around Kerry.

She could feel her lover’s whole body shivering, and she wished there were some way, any way to change the words the doctor was forcing them to hear about her father. Even if she hated the man’s guts.

“There really is no hope, is there?” Kerry asked softly. “Not even one in a million?”

Dr. Bridges hesitated, studying his hands before he looked up and met her eyes. “Ms. Stuart, in my business, I’ve learned never to quote odds. Because human beings have the damnedest way of finding a way around them.”

Kerry blinked. “But?”

The doctor sighed. “But, Ms. Stuart, I know our limitations.

Your father is beyond them.” He patted Cynthia’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

Kerry’s mother nodded numbly.

“I’ll be in my office if you want to see me,” the doctor said to Kerry. He stood up and headed out the way he’d come in.

For a few moments, they were all silent. Then all hell broke loose. Both of Kerry’s uncles stood up and faced her, their voices rising in mindless outrage in counterpoint with too few voices protesting in her defense.

Finally, Cynthia Stuart simply stood up and screamed at the top of her voice, “Silence!” It shocked everyone so much, it achieved its purpose, and silence did, indeed, fall over the waiting room.

Kerry’s uncles were squared off on one side, facing Kerry, Angie, and Dar, with Richard sort of hovering off to one side.

“Cynthia, I won’t have it,” Edgar Stuart said flatly. “My brother is lying in there dying, and I won’t have that little bitch here.” He pointed at Kerry. “She put him here.”