Chapter 11 #2
“I have an open invitation. It’s at my neighbor’s down the street—the musicians.” Roxanne grabbed a jacket and continued out the door, knowing Laura would follow her. Laura stood in the door, reluctant to cross the threshold.
“Musicians? That’s what you call that rock group? You’re too kind. I don’t know, Roxy. I’m not dressed for this,” Laura said, shaking her head as she looked down at herself. Roxanne laughed.
“Probably not. But they have a very lenient dress code.” Roxanne eyed her friend with a smirk. Laura wore her typical weekend attire. Navy blue corduroy pants, white blouse and a green cable knit cardigan with a polo player logo.
“That’s the problem. Look at you—you’ll fit right in,” Laura quipped back.
Roxanne laughed again. “No, I don’t think so.
My shirt’s not ripped and my jeans aren’t studded with spikes.
” Roxanne looked at herself. She was dressed for hanging around the house, but it didn’t matter.
She was going to the party strictly to be neighborly—and to have fun.
She always met new and interesting people at those parties.
Of course the last one she went to she and Don had had a fight.
He never liked going. But that was a long time ago.
Roxanne smoothed the legs of her snug jeans.
Maybe she should change her top. She was wearing an oversized Celtics sweatshirt with a denim jacket thrown over it and low boots.
She glanced back at the kitchen table at the stack of unpaid bills she had left there.
“What is it?” Laura asked.
“Nothing. I was supposed to stay in and pay bills tonight.”
“If you want I can go home.”
Roxanne laughed. “That’s all right. I have no money to pay them with anyway.” She continued to stare at the stack. Anxiety began gnawing from deep inside. Her stomach clenched.
“But you’re working again—I thought your money worries were over.”
“Not even close. This house costs massive amounts of money to keep up. The job pays well, but I’m not a millionaire anymore. That’s the kind of money I’d need to stay here.”
“What about selling jewelry—you have tons of it.”
Guilt sliced through her at Laura’s words. She had never truly appreciated the jewelry—or Don, who’d given it to her. She wished she had.
“I sold a lot of it, but I wanted to save the rest for a real emergency.”
“I know Bonnie is like family to you and you would never turn her away. And selling the house is still not possible?”
She nodded her head. “No. I can’t rent it either. I got a price on the Corvette recently and it turns out a used Corvette isn’t worth a fraction of its original value. God, I wish Penelope would just leave me alone.”
“I don’t know how the judge let her tie you up in court like this over the house. It seems so unfair.” Laura came over and touched her arm.
“I got notice to appear in two days, but Al says don’t count on anything happening.
Their strategy is to continue to stall. They know I’m in trouble.
” Roxanne sighed and smiled at her friend.
“Let’s go.” She dismissed everything with a wave of her hand and a locked door in her mind.
She strode out of the house, across her deck to the stairs.
She needed the party to distract her from her money troubles and, if she were honest with herself, from thinking about Brian Dennis.
She reminded herself they were only playing games.
There were times she sensed it could be more, like she could reach out a bit more and make a connection.
Sometimes she wanted to. The wanting scared her.
The instant he walked in, Brian knew his timing was bad. The doctors and nurses were there at Lindy’s bed, the BCNU was open and they were examining her.
“One minute, sir, you can’t go in there right now.” A nurse tugged on his arm. Dr. Oki glanced over.
“That’s all right, let him stay.” Dr. Oki said. Recognition registered on the nurse’s face.
“Sorry Mr. Dennis,” she murmured and let go of his arm.
“Come on over. I’m sure this little lady will be delighted to see you.”
“Daddy, is that you?”
He heard Lindy from beyond the line of attendants.
When he approached the bed they stepped away.
He zeroed in on his little girl’s face before he could take in the ugly unhealed burns and skin grafts on her bared limbs and body.
He almost convulsed with the discomfort caused by the mere peripheral vision of her wounds and the overpowering smell of antiseptics.
He concentrated hard on her eyes and forced a smile.
He was sure he looked more like the big bad wolf than her loving daddy.
“Hi, angel.” He went to touch her face.
“You really shouldn’t—touch. We’re just finishing up the exam here then sealing her back in the BCNU.”
“Dr. Oki, please just one kiss? Please?” Lindy begged.
Even Brian could sense she was on the verge of tears.
“Of course, angel.” He bent to kiss her before Dr. Oki had a chance to respond.
They could wash her again with the antiseptics if they had to.
But he knew the doctor wouldn’t protest. He was a man who knew where to draw his lines. Brian used to be that way.
“You don’t look ready to play basketball yet, angel.” Brian stood straight and looked at the doctor—right at his eyes. “When do you think she’ll be ready, Doc? I need her help.” Brian winked at her and she smiled weakly.
“Another month or so for her hospital stay. She can take physical therapy as an outpatient. What kind of plans do you have for her care when she gets home?”
“Only the best. We can talk about the details another time,” he said.
“I’ll have my secretary call you to set up an appointment.” The doctor nodded toward Lindy.
One nurse injected Lindy with a shot. The girl cried out in anguish.
Brian felt every muscle in his body contract.
He looked at her eyes and they were closing but tears streamed out at the same time.
Another nurse bathed the wounds. Brian knew Lindy was suffering unbearable pain. His gut twisted like barbed wire.
“She’s going to fall asleep now. The shot was a sedative,” Dr. Oki said. “She can’t have an IV sedative yet.” The doctor put his hand on Brian’s arm to turn him aside. “These examinations are always painful, but she’s really doing well. Why don’t you come with me now.” Dr. Oki nodded to the nurses.
Brian took one last look at Lindy. Her lids were almost closed. He was sure she wasn’t aware of him. “Bye, angel. I’ll be back.” He saw her faint smile of acknowledgement, a slight parting of her lips. Then her lids closed completely. He turned.
His back stiff, Brian walked with the doctor out of the room and down the corridor to a lounge area. The doctor didn’t sit, so neither did he. He glanced out the window overlooking the Longwood Medical District. All he could see were blocks of big brick hospitals, one after another.
“Mr. Dennis, we haven’t had much of a chance to talk with you about Lindy’s progress in detail, or about her recovery therapy and what her prognosis is …”
“Roxanne keeps me informed.” He turned to face the doctor.
“Yes. She’s been very helpful with Lindy’s care—not to mention her morale. She comes in often to feed Lindy and keep her company.”
“Yeah.”
“I just thought you should know.”
“I know all about it, Doc. Look, I don’t know what you think of me. But I sense an undercurrent of disapproval. I didn’t come here to be judged…”
“Not at all. I know you’re in a difficult situation. There is no question that you love your daughter. I would never begin to judge a parent for their reaction to such a trauma. And believe me, I’ve seen a lot.” Dr. Oki sat then.
Brian took a nearby chair and put his feet up on the laminated wood and metal coffee table and slouched back into the industrial strength seat.
He eyed the doctor and figured, what the hell.
The man said he wasn’t here to judge. Brian could put that to the test. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his pack of Marlboros and lit one up, watching the doctor the whole time.
Dr. Oki remained implacable. His eyes followed every move; from when Brian struck the match until he took the first long drag. Still Brian saw not a hint of decree.
“Will she be able to walk, Doctor?” It was a hard question to ask. His pulse pounded in his head with the effort. He wasn’t sure he could handle the answer.
“It’s too soon to give you more than a fifty-fifty estimate of probability.
A lot depends on physical therapy.” The doctor paused.
“Frankly, a lot depends on you.” This time when the doctor looked him in the eye, Brian could see exactly what he thought.
The doctor thought he ought to get his act together or Lindy was going to suffer for it.
“For the sake of argument, let’s assume that I’m actually capable of giving her the support she needs.” Brian noted the slight smile on the doctor’s face then. It was the kind of smile that only the Japanese and Mona Lisa could pull off.
“Even with maximum support, there is still a good twenty per cent chance that she will need a wheel chair. Mr. Dennis, I have to put it to you straight. She will never be able to run and jump and play normally. There will always be some degree of restriction in her mobility. There’s been too much damage to the muscle tissue.
She will never walk like you or I—or play basketball.
” The doctor never took his eyes off his. The look was intense.
Brian finally turned away and put his hands to his face.
He could feel the tension in his jaw and wanted to scream to release it.
He fought the urge to punch something. “Shit,” he finally said.
He’d known the answers. None of them were surprising.
But the impact hit him again hard, like the first time he’d seen her after the accident.