“Does your neck hurt?” He nodded again and then winced, it obviously pained him to move anything, and with good reason. “Does anything else hurt?”
“No … Mommy …”
“I’m here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Sorry …” he said, looking at her, and she shook her head. He had nothing to be sorry about at this point. “Stupid.”
“Yes. Very.” The doctor answered for her. “You’re lucky you didn’t wind up a quadriplegic from something like this.” And then he asked him to move his legs and arms, and hands and feet, and Peter did, but he could barely squeeze the doctor’s fingers. But Webster and the neuro-surgeon were pleased with his progress. And at nine o’clock they told Liz they were moving him to the Trauma ICU to continue to monitor him closely. “I think you can go home and get some rest. He’s moving steadily in the right direction. You can come back in the morning.”
“Can I sleep here?”
“If you really want to. He should go to sleep eventually. We might even give him something to make him sleep, if he makes a little more progress. You can use the rest, you’ve had quite a day here.” In spite of himself, he felt sorry for her. As a rule, he tried not to get too involved with his patients, but Liz looked like she’d been through the wringer. “Do you have other kids at home?” he asked, and she nodded. “You might want to go back to them. They must be worried. He was in pretty bad shape when he came in. Did they see it happen?”
“I think so. I’ll call and let them know he’s better.” There had been nothing to say to reassure them until then.
“Why don’t you go home for a while? I’ll call you if anything happens.” Webster sounded firm.
“Will you be here?” She didn’t like him, but she was beginning to trust him.
“All night and until noon tomorrow. I promise.” He smiled at her, and she was surprised to realize that he was actually decent-looking when he wasn’t running roughshod over her, or scowling as he checked the monitors and the chart.
“I hate to leave him,” she said honestly.
“It’ll do you good, and we’ll be busy moving him in a little while. You’ll just get in the way here.” He had a way with words, and she couldn’t help smiling at him. And then she told Peter she’d be back soon, she was going home to the other children.
“I’ll be back as fast as I can, I promise,” she said to Peter and he smiled.
“Sorry, Mom,” he said again. “Really stupid.”
“You’re really lucky. And I love you. So just hurry up and get better.”
“Tell Jamie I’m okay,” he said with real effort, but also real progress. It was the longest sentence he’d said since he woke up and started talking to them.
“I will. I’ll see you later.”
“I’m okay.” He was trying to reassure her, which was a good sign. He was cognizant, and not only aware of his surroundings, but the subtler implications of what had happened. She couldn’t even bear to think of what it would have been like if he hadn’t come out of the coma, or worse, hadn’t survived. It didn’t bear thinking.
“I expect to see you running up and down the hall when I get back. Okay?” He laughed at her, and she walked slowly out into the hall after she kissed him, and the doctor followed.
“He’s a very lucky boy,” he said, looking impressed by her. She hadn’t faltered for a single moment. “For a while there, I didn’t think he was going to come out of it without surgery, and certainly not this quickly. He’s young and healthy, and who knows, maybe you made a difference, talking to him like that.”
“Whatever it was, thank God he came out of it when he did.” Her legs went weak as she thought about it.
“He’s going to be here for a couple of weeks, I suspect, so don’t wear yourself out all at once. If you want to come back in the morning, he’ll be fine.”
“I’d rather sleep here. But I’ll go home and check on the other children and then come back in a couple of hours.”
“How many do you have?” He was curious about her. He didn’t know who or what she was, but one thing was obvious to him, she was a wonderful mother and loved her son deeply.
“Five,” she answered him. “He’s the oldest.”
“Leave your number at the desk. I’ll call if anything comes up. And if you decide to stay once you get home, don’t feel guilty about it. The others may be pretty upset, particularly if they saw it happen. How old is your youngest?”
“Ten. They’re ten, eleven, thirteen, and fourteen.”
“You’ve got your hands full.”
“They’re good kids,” she said, and he wanted to say they had a good mother, but he didn’t. Instead, he went back to check on Peter again, and she left. It was after nine when she got home, and all the children were still up. The girls were sitting at the kitchen table, crying, and Jamie was sitting on Carole’s lap, looking exhausted and pale. They looked like orphans from a war zone, and they jumped at her the minute she walked in the door, trying to read her face, but she was smiling, although she looked worn out and disheveled.
“He’s going to be okay. He’s got a terrible concussion, and a hairline fracture of a vertebra in his neck, but he’s going to be okay now. He’s very lucky.”
“Can we see him?” They asked as a chorus.
“Not yet,” Liz said, as Carole put a plate in front of her with leftover meat loaf from dinner, but Liz couldn’t eat a thing.
