Danielle Steel - The Cottage

Alex went to bed in her office shortly after that. She always slept in her scrubs when she was on duty. And her clogs were parked right next to her in case she had to hit the deck running. She never fell into a deep sleep when she was at work. She was always half listening for the phone, even in her sleep. It rang at 4 A.M. and she jumped up with a start and grabbed it.

“Madison,” she said, clearing her head. She was fully awake within seconds. And she was stunned to hear Mark. She thought something might have happened to one of his kids, or even Coop. But then she realized that if it was Coop, Taryn would have called her. “Is something wrong?” she asked quickly. The hour of the call gave her the answer before he said it.

“There's been an accident,” he said, sounding frantic.

“At the house?” Maybe both Taryn and Coop were hurt. But Taryn wasn't with Coop. Mark didn't tell her she was asleep in his bedroom. She'd come down for a drink late in the evening, and his kids had slept at their friends' houses, which had given him unexpected freedom.

“A car accident,” he said quickly.

“Coop?” She held her breath, fully aware of how much she loved him. She didn't need an accident to tell her that. She knew it.

“No. Jimmy. I don't know what happened. The other day, we were talking about not having local next of kin to call in case either of us ever got sick. He must have listed me on his papers. They just called me. They took him to UCLA. I think he's in the trauma unit or something. I thought maybe you could go check on him. Taryn and I will be there as soon as we can get there.”

“Did they say what kind of shape he's in?” Alex sounded worried.

“No, they didn't. They just said it was serious. He went off the road in Malibu, and went down about a hundred feet. The car was totaled.”

“Shit.” It occurred to her instantly that it may have been less of an accident than they thought. He had been depressed ever since losing Maggie. “Did you see him today, Mark?”

“No, I didn't.” He had seemed fine the night before, but that didn't always mean anything. Often, suicides seemed happier once they made the decision to do it. Euphoric even. But he had seemed normal to her on Saturday night at dinner.

“I'll go down to trauma as soon as I can get someone to cover for me.”

She called one of the other residents as soon as she hung up. He was a nice guy she knew well who had covered for her before. She explained the circumstances to him and said she didn't need more than half an hour, to get to trauma and check things out. He said it was no problem, and showed up, sleepy eyed, ten minutes later. By then she had called the trauma unit, and all they could tell her on the phone was that he was in critical condition. He'd been there for an hour, and a team was working on him.

When she got there, she talked to the chief resident, and he told her that Jimmy had broken both legs, one arm, his pelvis, he had a head injury, and he was in a coma. It was not a pretty picture. She went in to see him, and stood at a distance so as not to interfere with what they were doing. They had intubated him, and he was hooked up to a dozen machines. His vitals were irregular, and his face was so cut and bruised, she could hardly recognize him. Her heart ached when she saw him.

“How bad is the head injury?” she asked the chief resident when she saw him again, and he shook his head.

“We don't know yet. He may have gotten lucky. His EEG looks pretty good. But he's in a pretty deep coma.

It all depends on how much brain swelling he gets, and I can't predict that. And if he comes out of the coma.” But for the moment, they had decided not to operate to relieve the pressure. They were hoping it was going to come down on its own. Time was of the essence. And luck. Alex walked up next to him, in a quiet moment. They had set his arm and legs by then, and cleaned him up, but he was very, very badly injured.

She walked out to the waiting room, and by the time she got there, Mark and Taryn were there, looking panicked.

“How bad is it?” Taryn asked before Mark could.

“It's bad,” Alex said quietly. “It could be worse. And it may get worse before it gets better.” She didn't say “if it gets better,” but she thought it.

“What do you think happened?” Mark asked her. Jimmy didn't drink a lot and it was unlikely that he'd been driving drunk. But she didn't want to share her suspicions with them. She had with the attending physician, not that it made much difference at this point. But it might later. If he was an attempted suicide, they were going to have to watch him very closely when he came out of the coma.

“You know this guy?” the attending had asked her, and she had said they were friends, and she told him about Maggie. He made a note of it on the chart, with a question mark in a red circle.

She explained to Mark and Taryn as simply as she could what the dangers of the brain swelling meant for him.

“Are you saying he could wind up brain-dead?” Mark looked horrified. He and Jimmy had become good friends in the past few months, and he didn't want anything terrible to happen to him.

“He could, but we hope he won't. It all depends when and how fast he comes out of the coma. He's got brain waves now, and they've got him on monitors. We'll know right away if there are any changes.”

“Jesus,” Mark said, as he ran a hand through his hair and looked distraught, and Taryn was sharing the agony with him. “Maybe someone should call his mother.”

“I think so,” Alex said quietly. There was always the possibility that he could slip away from them, and he was in critical condition. “Do you want me to call?” Those were not easy calls to make, and delivering bad news was part of her job, not that she enjoyed it. But it might be easier for her to do it.

“No. I'll call her. I owe that much to Jimmy.” Mark was not a shirker. He went to the phone, and took a number out of his wallet that Jimmy had given him, in case of just such an event. It had never really occurred to him that he might have to use it, it was just a precaution. And now here he was, calling Jimmy's mother to tell her he was in a coma.

“How does he look?” Taryn asked Alex in an undertone after Mark went to use the phone, and Alex looked unhappy.

“He's in bad shape, I'm so sorry this happened to him,” she said, as she and Taryn held hands and waited for Mark to come back. He was wiping his eyes when he did, and it took him a minute to regain his composure.

“Poor woman, I felt like an axe-murderer. According to Jimmy, he's all she's got. She's a widow, and he's an only child.”

“Is she very old?” Alex asked, concerned for her well-being.

“I don't know, I never asked him,” Mark said thoughtfully. “She didn't sound old, but I couldn't tell. She started crying the minute I told her. She said she'd catch the next flight out. She should be here in eight or nine hours.”

Alex checked on Jimmy again and there had been no change, and she had to go back to work. She left Mark and Taryn in the waiting room, and before she left, Mark asked if she was going to call Coop. It was 5 A.M. by then, a little early to call him.

“I'll wait a few hours and call him around eight.” She gave them her extension and pager number and told them to call her if anything happened. They had their arms around each other, and Taryn had her head on Mark's shoulder when Alex left them.

Things were mercifully quiet on her own service that morning, and as she had said she would, she called Coop just after eight. He was still asleep, and surprised that she had called him so early. But he said he didn't mind. His trainer was coming at nine, and he wanted to get up anyway, and have breakfast as soon as Paloma came in.