Iris Avenue (27 page)

The woman in white crouched down so that she was right in front of Bonnie, who was still seated. She put a hand on Bonnie’s arm. There was real compassion in her face.

“Mrs. Fitzpatrick,” the woman said. “I’m Dr. Balaji. Your son Brian has sustained serious injuries, both external and internal. He has multiple fractures and internal bleeding. He had a cardiac event on the way here, and although they resuscitated him, we’ve had to put him on a ventilator. Ordinarily we would take him right into surgery, but he is completely non-responsive, and our monitor indicates there is no brain activity.”

“What does that mean?” Bonnie asked. She had to clear her throat to speak, and tears continued to fall as she did so.

Dr. Balaji gripped Bonnie’s hand, looked her straight in the eye, and spoke quietly.

“He’s gone,” she said. “We’re keeping his body alive with our machines, but he has, for all intents and purposes, already passed away. Does your son have an advance directive that you know of, or anything that would indicate his wishes in a situation like this?”

Bonnie’s face crumpled and she started sobbing so heavily that she could not answer. The doctor stood up and looked at Patrick and then Sean.

“Are you family members?” she asked.

“I’m Brian’s brother and an attorney,” Sean said. “If there’s a living will we have no knowledge of it. I thought in these cases that the spouse…”

“Yes,” Dr. Balaji said. “His wife is here, and she is the one who is legally obligated to make that decision. I just need to make absolutely sure first that there is no written record of his wishes before we remove him from life support.”

This got Bonnie’s attention.

“Don’t unplug him!” she cried. “Sean, stop them!”

“No one’s going to do anything before you have a chance to see him,” Dr. Balaji reassured her. “We’re moving him to a quiet place where you can spend some time with him. The social worker will come down here to meet you and I suggest you ask her to call Hospice. They are very good help at times like these. As soon as he is moved, we will come get you. I understand from Ava that you’ll want to have your priest here as well.”

“No!” Bonnie wailed. “Don’t let them do it!”

Dr. Balaji told the assembled, “No one is going to do anything right this minute. You should take a little time and process everything I’ve just told you. If you have any questions I’ll be glad to answer them now or later. Do you want the chaplain to come?”

Sean said that would be good, yes, and he and Patrick attempted to console Bonnie, who was beside herself with grief. Maggie had been clutching Scott’s arm, and as soon as she realized it she let go.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked her.

“Go get Father Stephen,” she said.

He left running, and shortly thereafter Maggie could hear the siren as he left the hospital parking lot. Maggie looked over at Jamie, who was sitting a few seats away from the family, staring at his hands in his lap. He looked up at Maggie and she was surprised at how grieved he looked.

He was shaking his head as he mouthed, “I’m so sorry.”

“I’ll be right back,” she told her family, and walked outside.

The sky was dark with heavy clouds, and although the wind was still cold Maggie thought she could smell a hint of spring coming. There were circles of dirt carved out of the landscaping at intervals, with spindly little Bradford Pear trees planted in each one. Although the trees were bare, around the base of each she could see the green tips of some sprouted flower bulbs peeking out of the mud, like tiny green tongues.

She took out her cell phone to call Hannah, but as she punched in the speed dial number she caught sight of Sam’s van flying through the entrance to the hospital parking lot. He zoomed up the emergency driveway and screeched to a halt right in front of her. Maggie, who hadn’t yet cried, burst into tears as soon as she saw Hannah.

Maggie, Hannah, and Sam went to the hospital cafeteria and got some coffee. Maggie told Hannah all she knew about what had happened to Brian, and Sam showed her his futuristic looking leg prosthesis. Maggie felt better and calmer just having them both with her. Hannah was obviously happy to have Sam home, and Sam kept touching and smiling at Hannah. For an undemonstrative man like Sam, Maggie thought that was an amazing testament to how good he was feeling about his marriage.

When they returned to the E.R. waiting room, Maggie could hear her mother screaming in the nether regions of the department. She and Hannah followed a nurse back to Brian’s room, where they met Patrick and Sean practically carrying Bonnie out of it. She was wild eyed, gasping and wailing, and looked like she might faint.

“Ava’s going to kill him,” she cried when she saw Maggie. “She’s going to kill my boy!”

The nurse told Maggie she was going to see about getting their mother a sedative, and gestured to Patrick and Sean that they should follow her.

Inside Brian’s room, Maggie and Hannah found Ava with a nurse from the local Hospice. Also present was Father Stephen, who always seemed able to remain calm in the face of any drama, but was now looking a little shell shocked. He hugged Maggie and Hannah, told them he would be outside if they needed him, and stepped outside the room. The Hospice nurse didn’t seem at all phased by the drama, and she gave Ava’s hand a reassuring squeeze before she too left the room.

Ava was sitting in a chair next to a beeping machine at the head of Brian’s bed, looking pale and small. Maggie knew she should hug her sister-in-law, say some kind words, or reassure her somehow, but found she couldn’t do any of that. Hannah stayed back by the door as Maggie went up to the head of the bed and looked at Brian. His face was swollen, and Maggie had to search for some point of recognition. His shaved head and face could have been that of anyone.

‘Maybe,’ she thought, ‘it’s all been a big mistake. Maybe this is not Brian.’

Then she recognized the pale red-gold eyelashes and eyebrows, just like her own, and although his hands and arms were battered and bruised, there was no mistaking the long index finger on each hand, longer than his middle finger. Maggie touched each of her own index fingers with her thumbs; she’d also inherited this trait from Grandpa Tim.

She thought about Brian’s quick, cruel temper; his ability to lie so convincingly while looking you straight in the eye; his withering contempt for anyone he was able to take advantage of; and his arrogant, selfish sense of entitlement. This is where it had led him. Maggie felt pity for him, and sympathy for the mother and father they shared, but she couldn’t honestly say she loved her brother.

Tubes and IV lines were inserted in several places. The beeping of the machine next to Ava demonstrated that the heart still beat in his chest. The respirator attached to his face breathed in and out for him, so his chest rose and fell with each breath. He didn’t look like someone who was sleeping, which was what she’d expected. He looked like a life-like human puppet, being made to look animated by some trick. She recognized the container but the contents were missing.

She looked up at Ava and met her sister-in-law’s frightened gaze.

“He’s already gone, Ava,” Maggie said. “You’re doing the right thing.”

“Thank you,” Ava said, and a perfect fat tear slid out of one of her pretty brown eyes and down her pale cheek.

“Do you want me to stay?” Maggie asked. “When they do it?”

“No,” Ava told her. “Father Stephen will be here.”

“Call me if you need me,” Maggie said.

“Thank you,” Ava said.

Maggie and Hannah left the room.

At 11:13 a.m. Timothy Brian Fitzpatrick was officially pronounced dead.

Grandpa Tim’s funeral was postponed until the next day. Bonnie spent the afternoon and evening heavily sedated in her bed, thanks to Doc Machalvie. Doc was feeling no pain, either, sitting in the front room with Fitz and Sal Delvecchio, drinking shot after shot.

The Hospice bereavement counselor came by and offered to help in any way she could. Fitz asked if she could play the fiddle and she replied that although she could not play the fiddle, she could play the trombone, and she would be glad to fetch it if that would help. Fitz invited her to join them all in a shot of whiskey but she declined, and said she would come back the next day. Patrick sat at the piano and played every song his father requested until the old man finally passed out. Meanwhile townspeople came and went.

Maggie and Hannah sat in the kitchen with Sean and accepted more food and condolences. These newer well wishers had the scent of gossip collectors about them, and Maggie was curt with a few of them.

“Vultures,” she sniped after one of them left. “Here’s your pierogies, what’s the latest?”

“They’re not bad people,” Hannah said. “They mean well.”

“Why do people bring food at a time you least want to eat?” asked Sean, who was trying to find room in the fridge for this latest offering.

Their Aunt Delia came in through the back door.

“Have you seen the river?” she asked Maggie.

It was so pointedly asked to Maggie and no one else that Sean and Hannah exchanged looks. They stayed put while Maggie followed Delia out onto the back porch to look at the flood waters covering Lotus Avenue. The river had stopped rising, and residents of Marigold Avenue had been allowed to return to their homes now that the danger was thought to have passed. Maggie watched as tree limbs and trash sailed by and crashed into the wall surrounding Eldridge College.

“It’s nerve-wracking,” Maggie said. “Everything feels so out of control.”

“I only have a minute and then I need to get back to Ava’s,” Delia said. “What’s going on with you and Gabriel?”

“I saw him last night,” Maggie said. “He’s going back to Florida with his wife and son after the trial.”

“It may be months before that trial begins,” Delia said. “They’re going to be around for awhile.”

Maggie shrugged.

“I don’t mean to pry,” Delia said. “I’m just worried about you.”

“I know, and I appreciate it,” Maggie said. “I’m just numb at this point.”

“I think he feels obligated to his wife, but I don’t think she means to him what you do.”

“Well, how nice for her. She gets her jailbird back but he doesn’t love her. Another relationship based on a lie.”

“If she didn’t want him, would you take him back?”

“I still have strong feelings, but they’re for the man I thought he was,” Maggie said. “If I’d known he was married and an ex-con when I met him I never would have gone out with him.”

“And Scott? Do you think you can forgive him for what he did?”

“I know Scott had good intentions,” Maggie said. “But he lied to me, too. I hate being lied to for my own good. Funny how it turns out it was actually for their own good and not mine. There was actually nothing ‘good’ in it for me. I didn’t need these men to make my decisions for me. How insulting. How condescending. How patronizing.”

“I agree it was a bad decision on Scott’s part,” Delia said. “He made a mistake and he’s paying for it, but is he condemned for life?”

“I cannot imagine a scenario where what he did was okay.”

“I agree. But can you imagine a scenario where you both agree that what he did was wrong, stupid, and unacceptable, but you can put it behind you?”

Maggie didn’t answer.

“We don’t get endless opportunities to be loved,” Delia said. “I know young people like to believe that they do, but don’t you kid yourself. Don’t ruin the rest of your life just because you’re angry right now.”

“So, I’m going to be alone and miserable if I don’t snap up the only available man who wants me, is that it?”

“It’s a distinct possibility,” Delia said. “You hold your future in your own hands right now, but not for much longer.”

“Hannah thinks Ava is going to seduce Scott. Do you?”

“It’s entirely possible,” Delia said. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but it wouldn’t be hard for her to do.”

“Maybe he’d be happier,” she said.

“Don’t be stupid,” Delia said. “When has Ava Fitzpatrick ever made a man happy?”

“I’ve never heard you talk about Ava like that before. What’s happened?”

“I can’t tell you,” Delia said. “Just take my word for it, Scott would not be happy mixed up with Ava, and it’s up to you to put a stop to it while you still can.”

“He’s a big boy,” Maggie said. “He can decide what’s best for himself.”

“You’re a fool, Mary Margaret,” Delia said. “Remember, pride goeth before the fall.”

Maggie stared at Delia, remembering what Anne Marie had told her while in a trance.

“How can you tell if a man is really a snake in disguise?” Maggie asked.

Delia gave Maggie a look that seemed to indicate Maggie had lost her mind.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at, but I’d say if he looks like a snake and acts like a snake, he probably is a snake,” Delia said.

“You’re right,” Maggie said. “Thanks.”

Lily Crawford sat at her kitchen table and broke green beans into a bowl. Gabriel’s wife Maria came downstairs and sat across from her.