Angel Falls
She looked pretty, not broken at all. He could imagine her waking up … Just like that, she’d sit up in bed, open her eyes, and see Bret.
How’s my favorite boy in the world? she’d say, opening her arms for a hug.
“You can talk to her, Bret. ”
He let go of his dad’s hand and moved closer to the bed, climbing up the silver rails until he was leaning over his mom. Then, very slowly, he gave her the Mommy Kiss, exactly the way she always gave it to him. A kiss on the forehead, one on each cheek, then a butterfly kiss on the chin. At last he whispered, “No bad dreams,” as he kissed the side of her nose.
She lay there, unmoving.
“Come on, Mommy, open your eyes. It’s me. Bret. ” He took a deep breath and forced himself to sing, just like he’d promised himself he’d do. He sang “Tomorrow” three times.
Still, nothing.
He slid off the bed and turned, looking up at his dad through a blur of tears. “She didn’t wake up, Daddy. ”
His dad looked like he was going to cry. It scared Bret. “I know,” he said, “but we have to keep trying. ”
Chapter Eleven
The measure of a man comes down to moments, spread out like dots of paint on the canvas of a life. Everything you were, everything you’ll someday be, resides in the small, seemingly ordinary choices of everyday life. It starts early, this random procession of decisions. Should I try out for Little League, should I study for this test, should I wear this seat belt, should I take this drink?
Each decision seems as insignificant as a left turn on an unfamiliar road when you have no destination in mind. But the decisions accumulate until you realize one day that they’ve made you the man that you are.
Liam had let himself be overshadowed by his father.
Decision.
He had gone all the way to Harvard, learned how many roads fanned out from where he stood … and he’d come home to Last Bend, where it was safe.
Decision.
He had fallen in love with Mikaela and settled his whole world on the creaky foundation of that emotion. He’d known that their love was measured in unequal parts, but day by day, hour by hour, as their life together unfolded in a series of moments big and small—birthdays, anniversaries, family vacations, nights spent huddled on the sofa, watching television—he’d let himself fall into the sweet narcotic pool of forgetfulness.
Decision.
Today he faced another crucial choice. He had been grappling with it ever since Mike first blinked. He had no doubt that the decision he made would lay the groundwork for the rest of his life.
He pushed back from his desk. There was a pile of charts and messages, all needing his immediate attention. He didn’t care. Not now. Instead, he grabbed his down jacket, put it on, and walked out of his office. Just before the reception desk, Carol popped out of the X-ray room and bumped into him.
“Oh, Doctor!” she said, giggling.
He smiled. It was the first normal moment they’d had in weeks. “I guess I should be glad you weren’t carrying urine samples. ”
Carol’s giggle graduated to a laugh. “Or scalpels. ”
“I’m going to sneak out early,” Liam said.
“Good for you. Your mother-in-law called a few minutes ago. The elementary school lost electricity today, so they canceled classes. She said they’d be up at the pond, skating, if you wanted to join them. ” Carol pushed the glasses higher up on her nose and squinted up at him.
Liam tensed, knowing too well what was coming.
“How’s she doing?” Carol asked.
Liam hoped he didn’t look as irritated as he felt. “The same. ” God, he hated those words. When this was all over, he’d never say them again. Or I’m sorry.
“Give her my best. ”
“Sure, Carol. Thanks. ” He did his best to smile as he strode through the empty waiting room. He had a flashing memory of Mikaela redecorating this small space. You can’t expect your patients to sit on plastic … and what’s that wall color—baby diarrhea brown?