Danielle Steel - Accident

“Yes, he is,” Page went on doggedly, suddenly determined to make her believe it.

“All women think things like that from time to time. You're overwrought with this problem with Allyson.” Problem? You mean like the fact that she's been in a coma for three weeks and might die? Oh that problem. …”You know, your father and I had our little arguments at times too, but they never amounted to anything serious. You just have to be a little more understanding.” Page stood staring at her mother then, unable to believe what she was hearing. She was willing not to discuss what had happened in their family, but she was not willing to pretend it had never happened.

“I can't believe what you're saying,” Page said hoarsely.

“It's true …hard as it is to believe, your father and I had our difficult moments.”

“Mom, this is me …Page … do you remember what we went through?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Her mother turned away and started to leave the kitchen.

“Don't do this to me!” Page said, crying as she looked at her. “Don't you dare do this to me after all these years, with your pious, holier-than-thou lies …! Little problems.' Do you remember who you were married to? …what he did for all those years? How can you say that to me! Look at me dammit!”

Her mother turned slowly and stared at her blankly, as though she were unable to understand what had gotten into her daughter. Brad had just come in from the garden then, and he saw them, and the look on Page's face, and instinctively knew what had happened.

“Maybe you two should discuss this some other time,” he said quietly, and Page turned to him in fury.

“Don't you tell me what to do and what not to do, you sonofabitch. You're out fucking your brains out night and day, and now you want me to take this shit too? I'm not going to let her do this to me anymore.” She turned back to her mother then. “You can't play these games with me …you let him do what he did! You helped him! You let him into my room and locked the door, and told me I had to make Daddy happy … I was thirteen years old! Thirteen! And you made me sleep with my father! And Alexis was only too happy to turn her back on me, because he'd been doing it to her since she was twelve, and she was happy it was me and not her anymore! How dare you try and pretend that didn't happen! You're lucky I let you in my front door and I'm willing to see you.”

Maribelle looked at her, deathly pale, and Brad could see that she was shaking. “Those are terrible accusations, Page, and you know they're not true. Your father would never have done a thing like that.”

“He did and so did you, and you know it.” She turned away from them then, with her back to them, and sobbed, but Brad didn't dare approach her. She turned back to face her mother then with a look of outrage. “I spent years trying to get over it, trying to heal myself of what you'd done …and I could have lived with your telling me how sorry you were, how terrible you felt …but how can you try to pretend it never happened?”

Alexis wandered into the kitchen with absolutely no idea of what was going on. She had been calling David from her bedroom.

“Do you mind making me some camomile?” she asked Page sweetly, who let out a groan of disbelief as she leaned against the counter.

“I don't believe you. The two of you. You've spent so many years hiding from the truth that you can't face anything. You can't even open a fucking bottle of water for yourself. How can you live like that? How can you do this to yourselves?”

Alexis looked suddenly terrified as she looked around at them. “I'm sorry …I …never mind …”

“Here!” Page tossed a bottle of Evian at her and she caught it. “Mom was just telling me how Daddy never fucked either of us when we were kids. Remember that, Alex? Or have you had a memory lapse too? Remember when you shoved me at him so he wouldn't do it to you anymore? Remember that?” She looked at both of them miserably. “He did it until I was sixteen and threatened to call the police on him, which neither of you would ever have had the courage to do. How could you do that for him? How could you help him?” She was sobbing by then. “I could never understand that.” Especially once she had children, and Brad felt sick listening to her. He knew about it, but he had never heard her talk about it so bluntly, or confront them with it.

“How could you say a thing like that?” Alexis looked terrified. “Daddy was a doctor.”

“Yeah,” Page said through her tears. “I used to think that made a difference too, but it didn't, did it? It took me years to even go to a doctor after that. I always thought I'd be molested or raped. I didn't even go to the doctor half the time when I was pregnant, I was so afraid of what would happen. He was a great guy, our Dad, a wonderful man, a terrific doctor.”

“He was a saint,” Maribelle Addison said protectively, “and you know it.” Alexis had moved instinctively closer to her, and the two women were huddled together, and it was clear that they were never going to admit what had happened.

“You know what's sad?” Page said, looking at them. “You disappeared after all that, Alex. You married David at eighteen, and you got a new identity, new face, new boobs, new eyes, new everything, so you didn't have to be Alexis anymore. You could be someone else so you could pretend it never happened.” Alexis made not a sound as she listened. It was too threatening to her, now more than ever.

“Come on,” Brad said quietly to Page, sorry that it had happened. Too much had happened to her lately. “Don't do this to yourself.”

“No?” She turned to look at him. “Why not? Do you think I can pretend it never happened, like they do? Maybe I should do that with you too, pretend you're not out every night screwing around, pretend everything is wonderful and perfect. What a nice life …except that I would kill myself if I tried to do that. I haven't lived this long, and come this far, and suffered this much in order to pretend I believe in a lot of bullshit.”

“Maybe other people can't handle that much honesty. Did you ever think of that?” he said sadly.

“A lot.”

“They need places to hide in.”

“I can't live like that, Brad.”

“I know,” he said softly, “I always loved that about you.” But he had said it in the past tense and she had heard it.

Her mother and sister escaped from the kitchen then, and Page stood there for a moment trying to catch her breath as he watched her. “Are you all right?” He was worried about her, but he also knew that he couldn't give her what she needed. He didn't have it to give her anymore. That was just the way it was. And for once, it was honest.

“I don't know,” she said honestly. “I guess I'm glad I said it. I've always wondered if she has denial and she believes all that shit, or she just lies, to cover up for him, like she did then.”

“Maybe it doesn't matter. She's never going to admit the truth to you, Page, and neither is Alexis. You know that. Don't expect it.” She nodded. It had been a terrible night, but in some ways it had freed her. She went outside to sit alone for a while, and then she decided to go to the hospital to see Allyson. It was late, but all of a sudden she needed to see her. She told Brad before she went out, and she was sitting quietly in ICU a few minutes later. This time, she didn't say anything. She just sat there, thinking of everything Allyson had been before the accident, and missing her. It had been three weeks now.

“Mrs. Clarke, are you all right?” One of the night nurses noticed her at nine o'clock. She looked shaken and pale, and she was sitting so still, just staring at her daughter. Page nodded, and just sat there, until Trygve came by half an hour later.