quickly. An operation might be necessary, but it would be simple and straightforward, a matter of aligning Kevin’s bones. Pending the outcome of the X rays, they might even be able to avoid surgery completely.
The radiation technician came to take the child for his tests and Jack leaned over his grandson. “I think I’ll come along with you, big guy,” he said. “If you don’t care, I’d like to see how they do this.”
Kevin blinked twice and his expression cleared. He couldn’t have spoken and made his relief more known.
Andrea watched them leave, her mother at her side.
“We might as well go to the cafeteria and get something to eat,” Andrea said. “He’ll be in X ray for a while. I’ll tell the nurses where we are and they can come get us.”
Taking off the mask of cheerfulness she’d put in place for Kevin’s sake, Andrea’s mother let her features collapse into the shell-shocked expression she’d worn earlier. She held up her hand at Andrea’s suggestion and shook her head. “No. No food. I don’t want anything to eat. I want a cigarette.”
Karen Hunt hadn’t smoked in ten years. Andrea opened her mouth to protest but she swallowed her words. They all needed whatever help they could get, wherever they could find it.
They walked across the street to a convenience store and bought a package of cigarettes, returning a few minutes later to the benches near the ambulance bay doors. Her mother lit up while Andrea sat in silence.
Karen Hunt smoked with determination, repeatedly drawing on the cigarette until she started to cough. After a bit, she dropped the butt, ground it beneath her heel, then looked at Andrea. There was steel in her voice. “Tell me what happened. And I want the truth.”
Andrea gave her mother as many details as she could remember. “I didn’t have time to check before we left,” she said as she finished, “but I think Vicki was probably trying to anchor the armoire to the wall and that’s when it went over. It always was unstable and top-heavy.”
Her grief segued into anger and she hit the bench with her fists. “I told Vicki it was silly to cart that damn thing all around the state. She should have left it—”
Her mother, revealing a strength that surprised Andrea, reached out and covered Andrea’s clenched hands. “Drop it, Andrea. The reason the armoire fell over isn’t important. What matters is that…” She paused and drew a shaky breath. “What matters is that Vicki is gone. What she’d want us to do now is take care of Kevin. That’s what we have to concentrate on. Kevin.”
Andrea struggled to pull herself together. The effort took the last of her energy. “You’re right,” she said. “You’re right…. In fact, Kevin’s the first thing she mentioned when I called and offered to help her unpack. She said she’d take the help, but she needed advice regarding him more than she needed anything else.”
Her mother nodded. “About his silence?”
Andrea stared at her mother in surprise. “You knew?”
“Vicki told me of the problem several months back. I advised her to talk to a therapist.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Vicki asked me not to say anything.” Her mother wrapped both hands around her package of cigarettes, then looked into the distance. “She was upset. She felt it was her fault for being a bad mother and said you’d never have a problem so lame and she didn’t want you to know. I guess her concern for Kevin finally overran her embarrassment and that’s why she told you.”
Andrea felt her mouth drop open. “But Vicki was a good mother! And I would never have said anything regardless of—”
Karen Hunt held up her hand. “I know that and you know that, but Vicki didn’t. She was very insecure, Andrea. She always looked up to you. She thought you were perfect.”
“Perfect? Me? Oh, God…” Andrea buried her face in her hands. “Why on earth would she think that?”
“Mrs. Hunt?”
A voice broke through Andrea’s anguish. She looked up to see a woman from the front office approach her mother with an outstretched hand.
“I’m Wendy from Intake. We need some information about Kevin and since his father isn’t here yet and his mother…is gone, I need your help. If you could come with me…?”
Andrea’s mother jumped up from the bench and followed the woman back inside. Feeling numb and empty, Andrea sat quietly, the thought of Vicki fretting over her so-called “perfection” too much to even comprehend. The idea was ridiculous.
Andrea was far from perfect. Very, very far.
GRANT HURRIED toward the double doors of the Courage Bay E.R., the pavement beneath his feet steaming from the sun’s steady heat. A thousand scenarios ran through his head as he walked, none of them good. They fled his consciousness, however, when a flash of motion off to one side caught his eye. He turned and looked closer, suddenly thinking Holly had been wrong.
Vicki wasn’t dead. She was right there, twenty feet away.
A millisecond passed, then he realized his mistake.
He was looking at Andrea.
She wore a pair of white shorts and a red T-shirt, her thick hair pulled back haphazardly, her face free of cosmetics. Obviously prepared for nothing more than an average day at home, she looked devastated by what had happened, her slumped posture reflecting her state of mind, her gaze directed toward the ground as if it held some cosmic secret.
As he continued to stare, she raised her head. Across the grassy slope that separated them, their gazes converged.
Nothing dramatic or heart-stopping occurred. Grant didn’t feel a jolt of awareness or a tingle down his spine. His heart didn’t leap out of his chest or even jump at all.
He merely felt empty.
Vicki Hunt had manipulated him and used him, then she’d sent him on his way. He’d known exactly what she was doing and he’d been a willing victim, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt. He would have thought the old pain might surface upon seeing Andrea, but apparently it’d sliced through him cleanly, albeit all the way to the bone. He felt nothing at all.
Changing directions, he headed toward her and she stood as he came near. Up close her feelings were even more apparent, but instead of the grief he expected, Grant saw anger on her face. He wasn’t too surprised—people handled death differently.
Her voice was hoarse and throaty. “You got my message, I see.”
Grant didn’t waste any time. “How is he? Can I see him?”
“They’re still checking for internal injuries. Kevin’s in X ray right now. When he finishes there, you can probably see him, but that’s going to be a while longer.”
“Tell me what happened.”
She recited the basic facts in a dry and emotionless manner. He could tell she’d already told the story more times than she wanted.
The minute
