Intensive Therapy Part 33

"You had a terrible fall and hurt your head. The doctors had to do a big operation. Do you feel any pain?" Gregory squeezed yes, this time more forcefully.

Victoria shuddered at the thought of Gregory having his skull violated with a buzz saw and his scalp peeled back.

"A lot?"

No, he squeezed twice. His throat muscles contracted again. "Ith ... ithuzz," Gregory whispered.

"Ithuzz? Oh, I understand. You mean it itches."

"Yeth," he whispered. Victoria laughed and cried.

Anna said, "That's an excellent response. The self-dissolving stiches cause itching. That means he has sensation as well as motor control," she enthused.

Victoria caressed Gregory's forehead gently. "That's enough for now," she said. She let him rest.

She called Martin immediately to tell him what happened, then dialed Jonas's cell phone, which rang through to voicemail. Next, she called Lorraine and Morris.

"I'll be right there," Lorraine said on the other end of the phone. "Give me a minute to put myself together."

Anna said, "I can go away feeling better," and she headed for the door.

"Are you doing something for the holiday?" Victoria added "I'm going on a ski trip, my first vacation in two and a half years. I'm on duty today until I finish rounds. I'll celebrate on the plane this evening. This is the best Christmas present I could get."

Martin arrived in minutes and embraced Victoria with tears of relief in his eyes. For an instant she didn't recognize him.

Lorraine appeared moments later in a white sweat suit, her eyebrows looking as if they had been painted on with a Sharpie. "I got here as fast as I could," she panted. "I ran up five flights of stairs. I knew he would be okay. I knew he would be okay."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Mother," Victoria said testily. "There's still a long way to go."

"He'll be fine. I just know it." Lorraine eyed Victoria. "My G.o.d, you look awful."

"Thanks, Mother. So do you."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. You've been through so much with them. It must be overwhelming."

Victoria knew her mother meant what she said. She regretted her nasty rejoinder about Lorraine's appearance. "I'm sorry, too, Mother," said Victoria, astounded with the comfort she took from her mother's apology. "You have no idea what it's been like to see my Gregory lying here, tethered to all these machines."

"He's my Gregory, too, you know. My only grandson."

Victoria was transfixed by the monitors chirping. "Do you hear this, Mother? This is all I've known of my child for the last month until an hour ago when he talked to me. When he woke up he wanted to know what happened. Thankfully he doesn't remember any of the bad from Thanksgiving night."

"I'm happy for him about that. I've been thinking a lot about things while I've been next to you at Gregory's bedside. I woke up, myself, only I do remember the bad between you and me. What happened to us?"

Forty years of sadness and hurt swept through Victoria like a tsunami. She glared at her mother.

"I don't know, Mother. You didn't like me. I never knew why. You said such mean things, it made me sick." Victoria caressed Gregory's cheek tenderly. "This could have been me. I kept thinking about throwing myself off a building every day for a month. I was so sick, Mother. It's a miracle I'm alive. I wouldn't have survived if I hadn't gotten help."

"I never knew," Lorraine said.

"Of course you didn't know," Victoria said bitterly. "You, Daddy, my brother. None of you cared whether I lived or died."

"That's not true," Lorraine recoiled. "Victoria, please believe me. I cared."

"Then why were you so awful to me? What did I ever do that was so terrible? All I wanted was for you to like me."

"I was mad at you. I was jealous. I was a fool."

"Mad at me for what?"

"I knew they loved you more than me."

"Who?"

"Your grandmother. Your father. My mother couldn't wait to get away from me; she couldn't wait to get back to work."

"Grandma went to work to get away from Grandpa. She wanted her own life and her own money, which is how she came to send me to college. It had nothing to do with you. Not everything is about you, Mother. And what about Daddy?"

"He lit up when he saw you like he never did with me. Even before you were born, he ma.s.saged my stomach so lovingly when I was pregnant."

"Is that why you poisoned him against me?"

Lorraine moved closer. "I didn't mean to do that. Please believe me."

"You treated Daddy like c.r.a.p. That's one of the reasons he drank. The more you nagged him, the bigger his martinis. He let you abuse him, and I hated him for that. Thank G.o.d he got sober and learned to stand up for himself. I like the man Daddy is today."

"Believe me, Victoria, not a day goes by that I don't regret how I treated your father. I understand why he left. I don't blame him. I can't bear the thought of losing you, too. What can I ever do to make it up to you, Victoria?"

"It doesn't have to end like that for us, Mother. Just tell me you're sorry. Tell me you like me. Show me that you care. That's what I want from you."

Gregory moved again, trying to whisper. Victoria took his good hand.

She said, "Do this, Mother. Help Gregory. He'll need a lot of help and a lot of love. Be with him. Read to him. Listen when he talks and make him know you understand."

"I promise I won't disappoint you, Victoria. I promise."

Morris arrived, a trench coat draped over one arm, his other around Carolyn's waist. Carolyn, a dark-complected woman with soft features, stepped back, but Morris took her firmly by the hand and led her toward Gregory.

Victoria held her breath. Lorraine and Carolyn had never been together in the same room. Victoria knew that Lorraine had never recovered from being left by Morris. The more he gave in to her demands for alimony and the Abington house-anything to buy his freedom-the more it hurt.

Lorraine said, "h.e.l.lo, Morris. You two are well, I hope."

"Yes. Thank you," Morris said.

"I guess you heard Gregory's waking up. Although there's a long way to go."

"For everyone," said Morris. He looked at his ex-wife compa.s.sionately. "For everyone."

Victoria said, "Look, Gregory." She gently turned his head. "Look at all the people who love you."

Victoria wondered why she wasn't happier. She thought, My son is waking up. My father has a woman who loves him. My mother wants to make a fresh start. My husband wants to ... My husband wants to ...

Everyone toasted Gregory's awakening with a bottle of sparkling cider Morris had brought. Victoria went through the motions, but the feelings of disconnect between her and Martin wouldn't go away, and left her with doubts about whether Gregory, like she and her husband, would ever fully recover.

61.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," droned a ba.s.s baritone voice. "Captain Sean McBride speaking from the flight deck."

"What's he doing, making an announcement now?" Jonas asked Gracie and Jennie. "We haven't even pushed back."

"Shush, I want to hear," Jennie said.

"A storm system has stalled over the Delmarva Peninsula. We're going to skirt the storm by heading farther east than usual before we turn south. That will add a good forty-five minutes, maybe an hour, to our flying time today." Jonas strained to understand the pilot's words. "The flight will be choppy for a while, but we'll do all we can to keep you comfortable. It'll be another fifteen minutes until we leave the gate, so I suggest that anyone who might want to use the restroom do so now. The 'fasten seatbelt' sign will be on for quite some time once we're airborne."

Jonas, a confirmed white-knuckled flyer, sat on the aisle, Jennie to his left, Gracie in the window seat. "Just what we need," he said to no one in particular. Gil, directly across the aisle, next to his Aunt Margo and Uncle Eddie, was absorbed in his book, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, which Jonas had read the previous evening. Jonas noticed Gil mouthing the words silently.

"Choppy for a while" turned out to be an understatement. For the next three hours, Jonas felt like he was strapped to a paint-can mixer. Every few minutes, he glanced out Gracie's window to rea.s.sure himself the wing's rivets weren't coming loose.

To distract himself, Jonas read Review of the Chemistry of Plants and Animals, a study guide he had downloaded from the Internet. In fifty-six pages, it reviewed what had taken Jonas four semesters of organic and biochemistry and a lifetime of immersion in neurobiology to imbibe. Each section felt like swallowing b.u.t.ter. As he tried to take it all in, he wondered, How did I ever learn all this?

Fortunately, the material was dense enough to keep him occupied through the worst flight he had ever endured. Finally, as he was starting the section on proteins, the jerking stopped. The Atlantic Ocean peeked through billowing clouds, and the left wing rose ever so slightly as the plane turned south. As soon as the seatbelt sign went off, a parade of ashen pa.s.sengers lined the aisle waiting for the restrooms.

When the plane touched down in San Juan, the pa.s.sengers applauded, except for Jonas, who felt so relieved that he wanted to offer a sacrifice on the nearest altar. Most of the travelers wandered around baggage claim in sh.e.l.l-shock. Jonas and Jennie saw Stan and Marta.

"There he is," said Jennie, catching sight of her father. "Don't you think Mom and Dad look well?"

Stan and Marta, now in their mid-seventies, still appeared hardy, although Stan had more pigmented spots on his ruddy forehead and Marta's arms and legs were considerably less beefy. Gracie and Gil gave their grandparents big hugs.

"Hi, sweetie," Stan said to Jennie.

"How long have you been here?" Jonas asked Stan.

"About an hour, give or take." Turning to Gracie and Gil, he said, "I can't believe how big you two are getting, especially you, young lady. I think you grew two inches in the last month. How are you, Jonas? How did everything turn out with your patient?"

"I'm glad you asked. It'll be good to talk with you about that. Maybe over drinks tonight or tomorrow."

"Tonight or tomorrow? I'm dying of thirst right now. Besides, there's something I want to discuss with you. As soon as we're settled in our room, I'm changing into my shorts, making myself a rum punch, and settling onto the nearest lounge chair. I hope you'll join me."

"Give me half an hour to burn off my adrenaline with a quick jog on the beach," Jonas said. "I just spent the last three hours worrying that the plane was falling apart. You probably had it worse between the flight and the waiting."

Stan said, "Please thank your brother for getting everyone rooms on the beach. Oh, there he is. I can't believe how long it's been since I've seen him." Stan greeted Eddie and Margo warmly, leaving Marta and Jonas standing by the baggage carousel.

Marta said, "I know that Stan wants to talk with you, Jonas, so I'll be sure to give you two time and s.p.a.ce. And don't feel you have to apologize about what happened with you and Jennie the other night. That's between you and her."

"Dammit, she told you?" said Jonas, angry at Jennie and embarra.s.sed that Marta knew about their spat. That Jennie had talked about it with her mother felt like a betrayal.

"Mothers and daughters talk about their children all the time; you must know that. You don't think what she said came as a surprise, do you?"

Jonas sighed. "I guess not. Well, the good news is that I'm working on ways to connect with Gracie and Gil."

"I knew you would. They're great kids. You're a lucky man. I'm sure you and Stan have a lot to catch up on. You know there's nothing you can't tell him, Jonas. Nothing."

Marta must have seen the look on Jonas's face, because she backpedaled quickly. "I'm sorry. That didn't come out right. I didn't mean to imply anything. It's just that he loves you like a son. He only wants you to be happy."

"I don't look happy?"

"Everyone knows you've been on edge since Thanksgiving. For what it's worth, Jennie felt horrible about jumping on you about Gil and Gracie. She really didn't want to kick you when you were down, but there's never a good time-"

"It's okay. She was right, and I spoke with both kids."

The fifty-minute ride to the resort over b.u.mpy roads felt like being back on the plane. Jonas's motion sickness continued for an hour. As he headed to the beach for his run, he caught a glimpse of Stan lolling on a chaise longue, tumbler in hand, looking like a man without a care in the world.

62.

Can I get you one of these, Jonas?" Stan said, tipping his gla.s.s in Jonas's direction. "We have all the ingredients. Have a sip; I'll never finish it."

Jonas looked at Stan's gla.s.s, from which a pineapple chunk and a maraschino cherry protruded. "No thanks," he said, pulling over two deck chairs. "Eddie wants to have a drink before dinner. If I have one of those things now, I'll be asleep in five minutes."

After an awkward silence, both men began speaking at once. Jonas said, "After you, Alphonse."

Stan took a sip. "No use beating around the bush."

"Beating around the bush," said Jonas, squinting in the afternoon sun. "I wonder where that comes from."

"It's a hunting term. You rustle the bushes near where the birds nest, to flush them out, so the shooters can get at them."

"That doesn't sound like much fun for the prey."

"It's better than bushwhacking, spraying the bush with buckshot. At least the prey has a chance to get away."

"Maybe I should have one of those," said Jonas, pointing at Stan's gla.s.s. "That way, the prey won't feel it so much."

"Jesus, Jonas, relax. You look like I'm going to perform an autopsy on you."