Chapter 7 #3
“You fucking bastard!” Paul lurched forward and grabbed Brian’s shirt. “She’s dead, man, dead! And you’re every bit the bastard she always said you were.” Paul’s voice verged on hysterical as Dr. Davis tried to pull him away. But Paul refused to release his grip.
The choice was his now. Did he want to have it out with Paul Paris here? The man was clearly broken. It wouldn’t be fair. Holding the flood of anger he felt pushing to let loose, Brian decided to let it go. He attempted to remove the man’s hands from his shirt instead. He didn’t get far.
Paul shoved him backwards into Roxanne and against a cart filled with vials. Everyone jumped at the sound of rattling glass.
And Brian forgot about holding back. The instinct to fight rushed back in a flash of memories from his boyhood on the streets.
He lunged back with the quickness he was more noted for on basketball courts.
No longer having qualms about taking advantage of a smaller man, he ruthlessly grabbed Paul by the collar with both hands, spun him around and slammed him back against the wall with a sobering thud.
Staring into the man’s eyes, only inches away, he saw no fear. But neither did he see the expected hate and anger. The dark shadowed eyes that returned his stare unblinkingly were filled with despair, bitterness and an endless, fathomless pain.
“Don’t start with me, Paris,” he bit out. He turned from the already crushed man with disgust. He wasn’t sure if the disgust was with himself or Paul. He flung his arms away, releasing the man with as much abruptness as when he’d grabbed him.
Before he had a chance to say or do another thing, not that he would have known what to say to the staring, not quite condemning, but certainly not pleased crowd, Roxanne took his arm. This time he let her lead him from the room.
They rushed toward a lounge area. Brian tried desperately not to break down.
The whole thing was reminiscent of his past experiences with death: his uncle, then his father, and worst of all, his mother.
But he shut that thought out before the sinking emotions could take hold.
Roxanne took him to a couch and forced him to sit with her for the short time before the press conference.
She was a reminder of life, not death, and for that Brian was grateful.
With the press conference wrapped up, Roxanne collected her notes from the podium and stepped down from the platform that she’d shared with numerous hospital staff and Brian.
She listened to the newscasters wrap up the story in front of their cameras.
Brian and Paul stood separated by several doctors in a group being questioned by the print media.
The Channel 7 newscaster stood near them and she walked in that direction. As she approached, she heard the man’s comments to the rolling camera.
“This is a sad day for the Boston sports community as well. The Celtics stand to lose the services of Brian Dennis indefinitely. It’s questionable whether Paul Paris will be able to rejoin the Red Sox for spring training.”
Roxanne spun around to see if Brian or Paul had heard. She couldn’t tell, but one of the other reporters had heard.
“One woman, two professional athletes. Guess Boston is a small town when you’re a wealthy socialite like Cynthia Paris was,” the off-camera reporter said to Roxanne. She cringed at the man’s insensitivity.
She turned her back on the reporter, saying nothing, and walked toward Brian and Paul. Paul’s expression was flavored with a hint of bitterness while on Brian’s face she saw a cynical slant of distaste.
When everyone had finally gone, including Brian and Paul, Roxanne stood in the hallway near the emergency room where they’d had the press conference.
She looked around and felt completely drained.
The place was now empty of cables, cameras and people.
It was business as usual here now. The media and extra staff were gone.
She remained planted. She couldn’t help thinking about Brian, and even Paul.
But most of all, she thought of the little girl who had called her “Mommy.”
She would have stood there all night if Dr. Oki hadn’t approached her. “Your meeting is cancelled. Come with me to my office. We’ll have the donuts and coffee sent up.”
Roxanne smiled at his obvious relish at the prospect of having all those donuts to feast on. They were probably stale by now. It was mid-afternoon. They walked to the elevator together. Dr. Oki did all the talking. She listened to him describe the planned treatment for Lindy.
“In addition, I’m planning a new glucose dosage treatment to try and reduce muscle atrophy. It’s still highly experimental, but she’s an ideal candidate,” said Dr. Oki.
The treatments all sounded top-notch, but Roxanne couldn’t help worrying that this little girl needed much more than medical treatment.
And who would give it to her? Brian? Paul?
Riding up on the elevator, Roxanne made a decision.
The doors of the elevator opened at their floor and Roxanne stepped off first.
“You know what that little girl really needs, Doc?” Roxanne turned and stood in front of the open elevator doors with her hands on her hips and a determined smile.
“No, what?”
“Me.”
The elevator doors almost closed on Dr. Oki before he could step off. But the look of disbelief on his face didn’t bother Roxanne. Instead, she laughed and took Dr. Oki by the arm, explaining with enthusiasm exactly what she had in mind.
The cold spell was typical of November weather and Roxanne didn’t let it bother her.
The thirty degree temperatures along the coast weren’t nearly as bad as a few miles inland where she’d just been.
But even then, it had been no more than a minor nuisance to her.
As she pulled into the driveway, she looked beyond the house at the sparkling blue ocean and smiled.
She didn’t even bother to pull the car into the garage.
Bonnie loved the cold. She said it kept her from getting too soft.
Said everyone needed a little hardship now and then.
She’d probably be out back. Roxanne couldn’t wait to show her what she bought on her way home today for Lindy.
Lindy had been so cheered by the little dolls she had brought with her the other day on her visit that Roxanne couldn’t help buying a few more things.
Roxanne was careful to buy gifts with smooth surfaces that could be thoroughly cleaned in order that Lindy could have them inside the bacteria-free environment of the plastic cube in which she now lived.
Bonnie would probably figure she went overboard, but she didn’t care.
She grabbed the bags from the passenger side of the sports car and ran around to the back of the house. Sure enough, Bonnie was out raking dead leaves across the cold-hardened ground.
“Take a break, Bonnie. You’ll end up hurting yourself in this cold,” Roxanne said.
Bonnie got up and walked with her into the warmth of the kitchen.
“Look what I bought for Lindy. You’re going to love this.
” Roxanne ripped open her bags of goodies and displayed the variety of books and toys she purchased.
“All this for one little girl. It’s too much.
She can’t play with it anyway. You told me yourself she just looks at it, maybe touches it.
Don’t you think you’re overdoing it? And who’s going to pay for all this anyhow?
We don’t even have money to pay for a gardener and I have to do all the yard work,” Bonnie complained. Roxanne only laughed at the scolding.
“Let the garden go. It’s practically winter anyway. All I’ve bought for Lindy hasn’t even cost me one-hundredth the price of one ruby ring. Al called me and he has a buyer for five grand.” Her friend the lawyer had done a good job for her. She still smiled.
“How’s Lindy’s treatment coming along?” Bonnie asked, settling into her rocking chair.
“It’s only been ten days since the graft.
Dr. Oki said not to get discouraged. Her body’s rejection rate of the grafted skin is a bit high, but she’s young and it grows fast. She was burnt badly over half her body, mostly her hips and legs.
I was there yesterday when they were checking her legs.
They look awful.” The smile left her face.
Roxanne chewed her bottom lip and looked out over the ocean through the sliding glass door.
“Then you’re doing the right thing for her. How’s her father?”
Roxanne winced. “You sure know how to ask the tough questions, don’t you?”
“That’s no answer. Has he been around?”
“Not when I’ve been there. But I’ve only been popping in and out at odd hours.
They tell me he comes sometimes—at night.
” Roxanne gulped on her emotion. He was supposed to be feeding Lindy, helping her by being there.
But so far the nurses said that Roxanne was the only person who’d done any of that.
Paul Paris came by. She’d seen him once or twice.
But he never fed her. The hospital staff insisted that family support was a major component to recovery from burns because it’s such a long haul, sometimes taking a year.
With a sudden movement, Roxanne turned from the window.
It was against all the rules of the hospital for her to get involved with a patient.
No one in her right mind would subject herself to the inevitable pain of getting emotionally attached.
Yet Roxanne did. She couldn’t help herself with this girl “I’m going in again tonight to give her these things.
Do you want to come?” Roxanne took a seat.
“No. I’ve done enough surrogate mothering in my lifetime to be canonized a saint already.
I just hope you realize what you’re getting yourself into.
But of course you don’t. You never do.” Bonnie stood and shook her head and went to the stove.
Roxanne couldn’t help smiling again as she watched the old woman.
“You’re right. I never know what I’m getting myself into. And it’s a good thing too, or I’d never do anything and we’d have a pretty dull life, wouldn’t we?” she said. Bonnie laughed, shaking her head.
“Roxanne, where did Mommy go?” Lindy lay still, but her pale blue eyes looked up questioningly through the plastic of the BCNU. It was the first time Lindy had asked about her mother, and Roxanne had no idea what to say. She did not know what anyone had told the child.
“What did your daddy tell you, honey?” Roxanne buzzed the nurse’s station. If there was ever a time she needed assistance, it was now. Up until then, their talk had been only about inane little girl things, like doll clothes and TV cartoon heroes. And basketball. And baseball.
“Which daddy? Daddy Paul just says she’s gone.
He acts funny. He doesn’t talk very much.
Not like you. I like talking to you.” Lindy’s eyes continued to implore and Roxanne had to look away.
The door to the room was pushed open behind her, and Roxanne turned with relief, expecting to see the nurse.
But it was not the nurse. It was Paul Paris.
“Roxanne Monet. They told me you were here,” Paul said moving into the room. His abruptness startled her.
“Hi, Daddy,” Lindy said with a tentative smile. Paul looked over at the child and smiled and then looked back at Roxanne warily.
“I hope you don’t mind my visiting with Lindy. I’m in and out of the hospital anyway and every little girl needs someone to talk girl-talk with. Right Lindy?” Roxanne gave the girl a conspiratorial wink and then stood, ready to leave her with “Daddy Paul.”
“No, don’t go,” they both said at the same time. She might have expected the response from Lindy, but she looked at Paul more closely.
“I’m afraid I have to leave now.” She blew Lindy a kiss and squeezed her hand through the rubber glove insert in the tent as she had become accustomed to doing when she left Lindy. She nodded at Paul and walked toward the door.
“I hope you’re not leaving on my account. I would hate to think I’ve scared away such a beautiful woman.” He followed her to the door and they stood there. “I hope it doesn’t bother you that Lindy calls me Daddy.”
“No. Why should it?” Roxanne was bothered, but not by him. She did her best not to show it. She smiled and waved good-bye to Lindy and walked from the room.
That night, Roxanne could not sleep. She wrapped herself in a blanket and went outside to stand on the deck and look out over the moonlit ocean, same as she always did when she couldn’t sleep. She supposed insomnia was better than having those dreams.
Breathing in the cold salty air of the November night, she forced her mind to think of something more constructive.
Lindy? No. Roxanne had no idea why she was attaching herself to this girl.
It was not because of Brian. Their relationship was best described as very loose.
Compassion? If that were the case, she’d be visiting every last child in the hospital because they were all suffering and deserved compassion.
There was no denying that she found something in Lindy that reminded her of herself as a little girl.
The child was motherless. But Roxanne was not Lindy’s mother and could never be, so what was she doing?
Maybe she could be a big sister to the girl.
She was pleased with this thought, because despite her scoffing at Bonnie’s warning, she was afraid of becoming too involved. And then being left with nothing.