Icebound (14 page)

She took Tyler his lunch and set it on a rolling table tray. “Stew, bread and cake. All the major food groups.”

He glanced at it and nodded as if very tired. “I’m not hungry.”

“A few bites is all I’m asking for.”

He sighed. “You’re worse than my mom.”

“Yes, I am, now eat.” She smiled to take the sting out of her words and left him to it.

“How is he?” Carol asked after Emilie sat down to eat her own lunch, an omelet with everything accompanied by another piece of cake.

“Physically, okay, but emotionally…” She shook her head. “He’s taking it hard.”

Carol glanced at him. “Do you know what caused the accident?”

“Not yet, but I believe it’s going to be the result of several things going wrong at the same time.”

Carol grinned. “Did you rehearse that answer with Tom?”

“No, why?”

“Because that’s word for word what he said just a few minutes ago in the cafeteria.”

Emilie shrugged. “It’s the truth, when we know more and can share that information, we will.” She took a bite of her omelet. “Mmm, delicious. I wasn’t very hungry when I got up, but I’m ravenous now.”

“Work does that.” Carol sipped her coffee. “Speaking of which, I’d better get back to it.”

“Thanks for bringing our chow down.” Emilie bit the inside of her lip. “Could you do me a favor?”

“Sure, anything.”

“Spread the word that if anyone wants to talk about the accident—or anything else for that matter—I’m always available. Completely confidential.”

“I will, and thanks.” She smiled and left.

Emilie stayed in the clinic and kept her eye on Tyler all day. David’s project entertained her and she ran through the experiment three times, each time getting the correct result. A few more trials and she’d be through the terrestrial testing. All that would be left would be performing the analysis in space.

Who would do it? It couldn’t be her, not now. She had a baby to consider, a child who needed her. But did that mean David’s dream had to die? Could someone else take over? Someone who would allow David’s name to remain on the project? Or had she failed her husband in this last task?

Emilie wanted to pound her head against the desk.

Why should this finite project be his legacy? Maybe there were other ways she could honor his memory.

For the first time in over a year, something besides David’s death was uppermost in her mind.

A steady stream of crew members stopped in to see her all day, support staff and beakers. Some stayed only long enough to hear that Tyler was okay and that she was still working on the final accident report with Tom. A few insisted on seeing Tyler, but he refused to talk to anyone, only stared out the window at the frozen darkness outside.

Finally, Carol dropped off his dinner.

“Time to eat.” Emilie placed the tray on the bedside table.

“Not interested.”

“Poached chicken, peas, potatoes and a little coleslaw with a milk chaser. It smells delicious.”

“Go away and take the food with you,” he said, scowling.

At least he was looking at her instead the nonexistent view out the window.

“Tyler, please…”

“Do what Emilie tells you.” Tom’s voice boomed out from the doorway. He strode forward to stand next to Tyler’s bed and pointed at him. “If she says eat, you ask how much.”

Tyler rolled his eyes. “Or what? You’ll stuff it down my throat?”

Tom’s answering grin was all teeth. “Oh, there are much more interesting ways to get food into you. We could put a gastric tube down your nose, or conversely put one up your—”

“I get it, I get it,” Tyler interrupted, picking up his plate. “I’ll eat.”

How could Tom have no idea what a good father he already was?

“Got a minute?” he asked her.

With one last look at Tyler, now eating, she nodded. “Sure.”

Tom angled his head over his shoulder and led her out of the clinic to the closet containing Bob’s body. He opened the door and turned on the light.

“How’s this?”

Heavy-duty sheets of transparent plastic completely lined the small room. She put a hand out and pushed through a slit into the translucent film. Even the floor and ceiling were covered with it. A portable air filter unit hummed in one corner. Bob’s body lay on a gurney covered in plastic, as well.

“Wow, this might work,” she said sliding through the slit and back out into the hall. “You’ve been busy.”

“How’s the smell in there?” Tom’s eyes, filled with concern, skimmed over her body. “No bad moments?”

She swallowed hard and shook her head. “No. It’s fine.”

He nodded, turned off the light and shut the door. One hand came up, as if to touch her, but he hesitated then dropped it to his side. He cleared his throat. “Aside from the attitude problem, how’s Tyler doing?”

Emilie focused on answering the question Tom asked rather than the one his body all but shouted. “He’s refused all visitors, but I hope he’s thinking about everything you, J.J. and I have said.”

“Stan volunteered to watch him overnight.”

“Good. I accept. In fact, he’s an excellent choice.”

“How so?”

“He had a close brush with death. Tyler might ask questions, open up. Warn Stan so he isn’t surprised if Tyler asks uncomfortable or surprising questions.”

“I’ll tell him.” A smile crossed Tom’s face then disappeared. He stood so close she could smell him. She wanted to take that last step and put her arms around him, to ask for his reassurance, to reassure him, but she didn’t. He’d told her in a million unspoken ways he needed time to work through his emotions.

“How do you feel?” he asked, his voice an intimate whisper that made her shiver.

She had to force her voice to stay even. “Tired, but that’s normal.”

He continued to stare at her, his gaze roving her body before returning to her face.

She cleared her throat, suddenly dry in the face of his scrutiny. “Are there any plans made for a memorial service?”

“Yeah. Bob’s sister didn’t want anything fancy, just an informal gathering. One of the guys is going to sing a couple of songs, there’ll be a eulogy and people are encouraged to write him a goodbye letter that will be interned with him. That’s pretty much it.”

“I like the letter idea. It’s a way for everyone to say goodbye.”

“He always did prefer reading over talking to anybody.”

Emilie laughed. “Yeah, nose-deep in a book, even when the movie was on.”

Tom smiled. “He once told me that books were a whole lot more interesting than most of the people he knew. He should’ve been a hermit.”

“I think working here qualifies. This is as far away from reality as it gets.”

The smile melted off Tom’s face and he shrugged. “Maybe.”

Damn, why couldn’t she have left it alone? She looked at the linoleum floor and prepared to move away. Exhaustion weighed her down, and her bed suddenly seemed like the best place to be.

“When is the service?” she asked. There was so much to do.

“Day after tomorrow.”

Emilie nodded and stared at the floor some more.

“Are you going to watch the movie tonight?”

She glanced up, hoping to see something on his face that might tell her he wanted to be in her company, but he wore his blank mask again. She tamped down the hope that had briefly invigorated her.

“No, it’s been a difficult day, yesterday too. I think I’ll turn in early.” She turned and headed for the clinic. “See you later.”

Tom didn’t follow her. “Good night.”

Emilie undressed and put on her pajamas and an old pair of David’s socks to keep her feet warm. She was about to get into bed when she spied her wedding band on the dresser. Slowly, she picked it up, turning it between her fingers.

“Well, David, it’s over. Not the way I expected it to be, but over just the same.” She smiled sadly. “Would you be happy for me?”

The question hung in the air, unanswered.

A knock at the door surprised her into dropping the ring on the floor.

“Just a second,” she called out, bending to look for it. She found it behind a bedpost and put it back on the dresser, then went to open the door.

Tom stood in the doorway with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Another emergency?”

“No.”

She cocked her head to one side. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I come in for a minute?”

“Sure.” She backed up to let him in.

He took one, two steps, then closed the door. “Maybe you should sit.” It wasn’t a suggestion.

Frowning, she sat cross-legged on the bed.

“I have something to tell you.” The words rang like a death knell.

Oh, this wasn’t going to be good. “Okay.”

He turned to stare at the wall above her dresser. “Don’t say anything until I’ve had a chance to finish or I’ll never get it all out.”

“Whatever you need.”

He nodded, a short abrupt movement totally out of character for him, and said very clearly, “I’m no hero.”

She opened her mouth to refute him, but he gave her a sideways look and she snapped her lips shut.

He stared at a spot on her neck just below her chin and said, “You look at me with those big eyes and I know what you’re thinking. I seem like a reasonable guy, harmless, right?” He shook his head. “Wrong. I pinned Mark up against a wall and nearly choked him to death.”

She couldn’t keep silent. “No, you were protecting me.”

“How,” he said as his head came up and he took two rapid steps toward her, “do I protect you from me? Huh?” He stared down at her, anguish twisting his features. “I would do anything to protect you, to protect our child, but the biggest danger to you here
is
me.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head vigorously.

“
Yes
.”

“I don’t believe that. You’ve proven yourself to be—”

“You want proof?” he interrupted her. “It wasn’t just my father, who abused his family. He learned it from his father.” Tension leached out of him and he turned away from her. “Some men teach their sons how to fish or tear down a car engine in the garage. Not in my family.” He laughed, but it was totally without humor. “No, in my family, sons learn how to hurt the ones they love the most.”

He turned to face her again and she was shocked to see tears in his eyes. “I’m a ticking time bomb. I don’t know when I’m going to go off and lose control, but…” He sucked in a deep breath.

“You believe it’s inevitable?”

“Yes.”

“That,” she said slowly, “is why it’s not.”

Deep furrows appeared between his eyes. “What?”

“Have you ever attacked someone?”

He looked at her like she’d grown a second head. “What do you call what I did to Mark?”

“I call that coming to someone else’s defense. Not an attack. Have you
ever
attacked someone without provocation?”

Tom continued to frown. “Of course.”

“Who?”

He looked confused by the question. “You want names?”

“Yes.”

He threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know.”

“How many were there?”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“Three, four?”

He blinked a few times. “I don’t remember…”

“So…none?”

“I don’t—”

“None.” She firmly with her lips pressed her lips together. “What does that tell you?”

“I’ve never had a wife or kids to beat up.”

She snorted. “Bull. You have plenty of dependents, sixty-two of them right here.”

Shaking his head, he said, “It’s not the same, Em.”

“We’re stuck here, Tom.” She sighed. “You need to deal with this somehow.”

“I know. I’m working on it.”

He looked so incredibly lost she got off the bed and approached him slowly, putting one hand on his shoulder. “I trust you.”

“Don’t, Em. Please don’t.”

“You’re too smart, too strong and too stubborn to let the mistakes of your father and grandfather rule you.”

“I wish I had your faith.” He cupped her face with both hands and leaned down to kiss her. “I wish I could believe in fairy tales…a little.”

One last kiss, then he turned and left, closing the door behind him.

A tear rolled down her cheek. “I wish you could believe in them too.”

“Breakfast?” Carol asked, offering some steaming hot bacon.

Emilie considered her options then let her stomach do the talking. “No thanks.”

Her friend grimaced. “You’ve got to eat something.”

“Okay, some toast then.” She chose a slice and took a bite, then put it right back down at the somber expression on Carol’s face. “What’s wrong?”

Carol glanced away for a moment, then met Emilie’s gaze. “We’re worried about you.”

“We?”

“Sharon, Wally, Stan, myself and lots of other people.”

“Why?” Emilie pinched her cheeks. “Do I look pale or something?”

Carol nodded. “That and you’re under a lot of pressure with Tyler in rough shape and Bob…well, we want to make sure you’re okay.”

Emilie had to swallow tears. These people had, at some unknown point, become a real family to her. “Thank you. It’s been difficult, but this isn’t the first time I’ve had to do things that were—” she sighed, “—how do I put this? Emotionally treacherous.” She smiled. “It helps to know you care.”

“We Polies need to stick together. It’s the only way to survive this place.”

Emilie nodded, but her gut clenched. She hadn’t shared her biggest news with anyone but Tom. She could only imagine what Carol’s reaction would be. Probably not an offer to throw a baby shower. “Yeah.” She looked at her plate, her appetite gone. Too bad, she needed to eat and not just for her sake. Emilie finished her toast then gulped down her coffee. “I’ve got to go. See you at lunch?”

“Sure.”

Emilie stood, but paused to smile at her friend. “Thanks, Carol.”

She returned the smile. “Anytime.”

Emilie left the cafeteria for the clinic and greeted Tyler upon arrival. “Good morning.”

His response was a grunt. She checked all his vitals, charted them, hung a new bag of saline then had a look at his chest.

“I think you’ve invented some new colors.”

He looked down and she saw his eyes grow wide. Using only the pads of her fingertips, she palpated his rib cage, watching his face for a reaction. He winced a few times.

“Still pretty sore?”

“Yeah.”

“These are what will keep you from working. You don’t want to accidentally puncture a lung.”

“Right, we wouldn’t want another accident, would we?” he said, sarcasm dripping off his words.

“You sound like a six-year-old.”

“Get off my back.”

“I will if you will.”

He snarled and pushed her away with his uninjured hand. Not hard enough to even move her, but enough to demonstrate his frustration. “Just get lost.”

“Treat Emilie with the respect she’s earned,” a rough, deep voice said from the doorway. “At all times.”

Emilie and Tyler looked up to see Tom bearing down on them.

“What’s the matter with you?” he asked Tyler. “You know better than to act like some fist-for-brains.”

“I’m sick and tired of everyone treating me like an idiot, patting me on the head, saying everything is okay,” Tyler yelled. “Well, everything
isn’t
okay. It’ll never be okay. I killed a friend.
Bob is dead because of me
.” Tears rolled down his face, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Don’t you get it?”

Tom stood at the foot of the bed and shook his head. “I get it better than you think. You want to be punished because you figure that will even the score, but it won’t. The only way to even the score between you and your demons is to make something good out of the life you have. Give something back, teach, volunteer, drill water wells in third-world countries. There are a million things you could do.” He paused then growled. “Pick one.”

“Drill water wells?” Emilie asked.

“Yeah, Bob did it a couple of times with a company out of Texas. They usually drill for oil, but every year they’d go to Africa and drill a few wells in the desert too. Bob figured it was a productive way to help people help themselves.”

“Drilling for water isn’t a punishment,” Tyler said.

Tom snorted. “Don’t say that until you’ve tried it.” He looked at Emilie. “Everything’s ready.”

“Everything?”

He glanced at the door. “Yeah. Out there.”

Right. Bob.
“Oh, thanks, I’ll be right there.”

“No rush, I asked J.J. to come Tyler-sit.”

“Geez, not him again,” Tyler said.

“What? Sorry he doesn’t hate your guts now?” Tom asked.

Tyler didn’t answer.