Danielle Steel - Accident

“The piece in the paper I read yesterday seemed to imply, more or less, that it was the Chapman boy's fault. Is that just talk, or is it real? Was he really drinking?”

“Apparently not enough to matter. And I hear Mr. Chapman is planning to sue the paper to clear Phillip's name. As I said, there's no evidence either way to prove whose fault it might have been. Neither his, nor Mrs. Hutchinson's, but he's a kid, and he had half a glass of wine …and two cups of coffee.” She and Trygve had talked it to death, and the story still stayed the same. It was an accident. It was no one's fault apparently. And she didn't blame the Chapmans for wanting to clear their son's name. He was a great kid, and he deserved to die with his fine reputation, if only for their sakes.

By then Andy had spotted her and he came running to meet her. He was wearing his baseball uniform and he looked so cute, she almost cried when she saw him. He looked so normal and healthy, it reminded her of only days before when she had taken him to his game, and everything seemed so simple. Allie wasn't in a coma then, and Brad hadn't confessed that he was cheating.

“And how was your day, Mr. Andrew Clarke?” she asked, beaming at him as he threw his arms around her.

“Great. I scored a home run!” He was pleased with himself, and she was happy to see him.

“You're terrific.”

He was thrilled to see her too, and then he looked up at her worriedly. “Are you going back to the hospital now? Am I staying here?”

“No, you're coming home with me.” She had decided to take a night off, for his sake. She knew how badly he needed it, and she wanted to be there for him. And as long as Allie's condition didn't change, she felt she could do it. She had decided to make dinner for him, more than just frozen pizza, and she wanted to sit down and talk to him, so he didn't feel so neglected.

“Can Dad do a barbecue?” She didn't know if Brad was coming home or staying out again, and she didn't want to promise anything, so she told him he couldn't. “Okay. We'll just have regular dinner then.” He seemed delighted at the prospect, and they went home a few minutes later.

She made hamburgers and baked potatoes for him, and a big green salad with avocados and tomatoes in it, and she was surprised when she heard Brad come in just as they were sitting down to dinner. She hadn't really expected him, but she had made enough to feed him too, just in case he did come home.

“Dad!” Andy shouted excitedly, and Page could see in his little face how desperately he needed contact with them. He was deeply worried.

“What a surprise!” Page said, not quite under her breath, and Brad shot her a dark look.

“Let's not start that, Page,” he said irritably. He had had a long day too, and he had made a point of coming home for dinner, for his son's sake. “Have you got enough?” he asked curtly, glancing at the table set for two, and the dinner she was serving Andy.

“No problem,” she said, and served him a full plate a moment later. Andy was telling his father about the game, and his home run in the fourth inning. He rattled on about his friends at school. He was like a little sponge soaking up whatever moments they had for him, whatever time they could spare from his desperately injured sister. Watching him made Page aware again of how frightened he was, and how much he needed them right now. In his own way, he was as scared as she was. And in some ways it was worse for him because he hadn't seen his sister.

“Can I go to the hospital to see Allie this weekend?” he asked as he finished his baked potato. Page was pleased to see that he had eaten well, and he looked more relaxed than he had at the beginning of dinner. But she still didn't think he was ready to see his sister. Her condition was too frightening, the danger still too acute. And if she died, Page didn't want him to have that as his last memory of Allie.

“I don't think so, sweetheart. We ne£d to wait until she feels a little better.” She also knew that you had to be at least eleven to visit the ICU, but their doctor had already told her he'd make an exception for Andy.

“But what if she doesn't feel better for a long time? I need to see her.” He started to whine, and Page glanced at Brad, but he wasn't paying attention. He was flipping through the paper with a deep frown and an unhappy expression. Stephanie had been furious when he told her he couldn't have dinner with her. He was almost used to it now. Someone was always angry at him.

“We'll see,” Page said about Andy's visit, as they cleared the table. She served them both ice cream with chocolate sauce for dessert, and made herself another cup of coffee. Neither of them had noticed it, but she had hardly eaten. And after a few minutes, she glanced over at Brad. “Brad …why don't you read that after dinner?” She hated it when he read during meals, and he knew it.

“Why? Did you have something to say to me?” he snapped, and she bristled, as Andy watched with a frightened look. He had never seen them fight that way before, and for the past few days they had done nothing but, and he was worried.

After dinner, Brad went to his desk to look for something. And Andy went to his room, looking forlorn, followed by Lizzie.

Page cleaned up the kitchen, cleared the table, set it for breakfast, and then listened to her messages. There were at least a dozen more, inquiring about Allie. And several of the young people at the funeral had asked when they could see her. Mercifully, the hospital was turning everyone away, and whatever flowers came for her were being sent to the children's ward, because there were none allowed in ICU. Page was glad she didn't have to see any of Allie's friends. She knew she couldn't have coped with their fears too. And the last call on the machine was from a reporter who said he wanted to ask her some questions. She didn't even bother to write his name down when she jotted down the others.

She called a few of the young people back who had left messages on the machine, but as always it was exhausting trying to explain it all to them, or telling the story again and again to their mothers. She had thought about putting a special recording on her message machine, telling everyone how Allie was, but the news was still so frightening, and the hope so slim, that Page couldn't bring herself to do it.

She went in to check on Andy finally, and she found him sitting on his bed, crying and talking to Lizzie. He was explaining to the dog about Allie's accident, and that she was gonna be okay, but she was still asleep, her eyes were bandaged, and her head was pretty swollen. It was a summary of sorts, though not entirely accurate, but it was close enough, and Lizzie wagged her tail as she listened.

“How's it going, sweetheart?” Page asked tiredly as she sat down next to him on the bed. She was grateful for the time at home with him, but it was also obvious how upset he was, and how little she could do to relieve it. She was happy that she had decided to spend the night at home with him. He really needed both of them, it was a good thing Brad had come home too, although he certainly wasn't being pleasant.

“How come you and Daddy fight all the time now?” he asked unhappily. “You never used to do that.”

“We're upset …about Allie …sometimes when grown-ups are sad or scared, they don't know how to show it, so they crab at each other, or they yell. I'm sorry, sweetheart. We don't mean to upset you.” She stroked his head as she tried to reassure him.

“You sound so mean when you talk to him.” How could she explain to him that his father was cheating on her, and their whole marriage had gone out the window. She couldn't, and she wouldn't. “It's hard being at the hospital with Allie.”