Danielle Steel: The House on Hope Street

“Hi there.” Liz was feeling expansive and relaxed, after having made her momentous decision. “What's up?”

“Jamie.” The way she said it rang a bell from the previous summer. She was speaking in shorthand.

“What happened?” Liz felt a sudden wave of panic as she waited for an answer.

“He was trying to hang a papier-mâché angel we made on the Christmas tree. He got the ladder out while I was doing something for Meg, and he fell. I think his arm is broken.”

“Shit.” It was five days before Christmas. And now that Liz listened carefully, she could hear him crying in the background.

“How bad is it?”

“It's at a very nasty angle.”

“I'll meet you at the hospital as soon as I can get there.” At least it was nothing as dramatic as what had happened to Peter, or little Justin the night before. But it was the first time Jamie had broken anything, and she knew he'd be panicked. She grabbed her coat and bag and ran out the door as Jean asked her what had happened. “Broken arm,” Liz shouted as she ran down the stairs. There never seemed to be a minute to just sit down and enjoy life. But what was there to enjoy these days anyway? Christmas was looming like a boulder about to fall on them, Jack was gone, and so was Bill now too. Merry Christmas.

Chapter 12

Liz flew into the hospital emergency room as she had the night before at Children's for Helene, and this time she was the anxious mother and not the professional comforter. It was a little different. Jamie was obviously in pain when she arrived, and screamed every time one of the nurses tried to touch him, and it made Liz feel sick when she looked at the way his arm was sticking out. There was no doubt about the fact that it was broken. The only question was how badly.

They were trying to reason with him when she arrived, but they had already concluded that they were going to have to sedate him, and they were going to take him up to surgery to set the arm.

An orthopedic surgeon had been called, and Carole looked guilty and frantic.

“I'm so sorry, Liz … I took my eyes off him for five minutes. …”

“It's all right, it could have happened if I was home too.” Jamie did things like that sometimes. All kids did. And Jamie was a little less sensible and less steady than most boys his age, for obvious reasons. Liz tried fruitlessly to calm him down, but he was screaming so loud he couldn't even hear her. He was in so much pain, he just sat on the gurney shrinking from all of them, and wouldn't let her hold him. It was very upsetting. And she was looking frazzled and worn out as she tried to talk to him again, and heard a familiar voice just behind her shoulder. “What's going on here?”

Liz turned instinctively and found herself looking into the eyes of Bill Webster. He had been in the ER to take a patient to the trauma unit when he heard the fuss, and saw the familiar red hair, and couldn't stop himself from coming over. “What happened?” he asked her, without introduction or greeting.

“He fell off a ladder and broke his arm,” she said simply, as he walked in front of Jamie and put himself in the child's field of vision to be sure he saw him. And for an instant, the wailing abated. It tuned down to vehement sobs, and as Jamie looked at Bill, his little shoulders were heaving.

“What happened, champ? Were you training for the Olympics again? It's not time yet. Didn't you know that?” He gently reached for the arm, and although Jamie shrank from him, he didn't scream or jump off the gurney, and let Bill touch him.

“I fffelllll … offffff … a lllladdddder.”

“Putting something on the Christmas tree?” Jamie nodded. “You know what we're going to do? We're going to give you a cast for that arm, and you have to make me a promise. Will you do that?”

“Wwwwhhhatt's the ppppromise?” Jamie was shaking from head to foot from all the crying, but as Bill talked to him he was gently feeling the arm, and distracting Jamie. And the child made no objection, as his mother watched him.

“I want to be the first one to sign your cast. Is that a deal? Not the second or the third … I've got to be first. Okay?”

“Okay,” Jamie nodded, as the surgeon arrived, and the two doctors conferred, and as they finished, Bill glanced at Liz. She was looking very thin, and at the moment distraught over Jamie's broken arm, which was why he had made the suggestion he just had to the surgeon.

“You know what we're going to do?” Bill asked Jamie as though he had a terrific surprise for him. “We're going to go upstairs and put on your cast now. And I'm going to come with you, just to be sure that no one else signs it first. How does that sound to you? You're going to sleep for a few minutes, and when you wake up, presto magic, the cast will be on, and I'll sign it.”

“Can I make the bed go up and down?” He still remembered that from Peter's stay there.

“We'll find you one you can turn every way you want, but first let's get that cast on.” He glanced at Liz to reassure her, and she nodded. She knew then what he had done, he had asked the surgeon if he could stay in the OR with Jamie, and the gesture touched her. She wanted to thank him, but he was already pushing Jamie toward the elevator on the gurney, and the surgeon was right behind them. She didn't want to call out to the child for fear that it would remind him that she couldn't go with him. So instead she huddled in a chair miserably, worrying about him, and thinking about Bill. It had been a shock to see him, but there had been so much else happening that they couldn't even speak to each other, which was probably better. There was nothing left to say anyway. It had been a month since she'd seen him, and it felt like aeons. She still cried herself to sleep at night over him, but there was no way for him to know that.

It was over an hour before they returned, and when they did, Jamie was still groggy, and Bill was still with him. The surgeon had gone on to another case, and Bill told her very professionally that everything had gone smoothly. It had been a clean break, and in six weeks they could take the cast off. They'd even given him one he could wear in the shower.

“He should wake up in a few minutes. He did fine upstairs. We put him out so fast he never knew what hit him.” She couldn't help but remember how gruff he'd been with her the first time they met, and notice how gentle he was with Jamie now. He was a man of a million facets. And Megan calling him a “brute” made her wince even more than before. It had been inexcusable, and she knew it. “Do you want a cup of coffee while he wakes up? It might be a little while, maybe twenty minutes.”

“Do you have time?” She didn't want to impose on him. She knew how busy he was, and he had already spent nearly two hours with Jamie.

“I have time,” he said, leading her down the hall to a room where the ER doctors relaxed between cases. But there was no one in the room when they got there. And he handed her a steaming cup of coffee. “He'll be fine, Liz, don't worry about him.”

“Thanks for being so nice to him. I appreciate it a lot. He was scared to death when I got here.”

Bill smiled as he nodded and poured himself a cup of coffee. “He damn near screamed the house down. I wondered what was happening, that's why I came over. Great set of lungs on Master Jamie.” She smiled, and their eyes met. But neither of them acknowledged more than Jamie's broken arm. And it was obvious that they felt awkward with each other. He looked as though he had lost weight too, and he seemed pale and tired, but Christmas was busy for him. There were lots of drunk drivers and broken hips and traumas she couldn't even dream of, like what had happened to Justin, and now Jamie. Though Bill usually only handled the major disasters, like Peter's accident. “You look well,” he said finally, and she nodded, not sure what to respond to him. She could hardly tell him that she thought of him night and day and had figured out how much she loved him. It was a little late for that.