AS THE MONTH of May progressed, life seemed almost exciting to Helen. Being at the Crossing so often, she met Sully’s daughter and they hit it off immediately. Maggie, it seemed, was quicker than Leigh on some matters. After they’d spent just an hour together, Maggie said, “It’s nice to put a face to the reason my dad is using so much lotion on his hands.”
“I didn’t ask him to do that,” Helen said. But what she thought was, He is really such a sweetheart.
Helen was meeting the entire halo of friends who frequented the Crossing, whether it was just to visit Sully or to make sure he was getting enough help with his chores. Maggie dropped by a couple of times a week, Cal was around when Maggie wasn’t. Dakota and Sid put in their appearances regularly; Dakota made trash runs to the dump for Sully every week. Anything that required a lot of muscle, Cal or Dakota or Connie Boyle handled. Sierra, Connie’s wife and Cal’s sister, came by about once a week with her little boy, Sam, but Sierra didn’t come to do chores. She was hugely pregnant. She came to the Crossing to run some energy off Sam. And her golden retriever, Molly, ran wild with Beau—they were best friends.
Watching Sully with the little ones brought Helen a special happiness. Elizabeth and Sam were close to the same age and constantly on the move. Sully would put one on each knee and talk to them, read their books to them, help them put their shoes on fifty times a visit. Elizabeth liked to move around the paperbacks on the used-book shelf while Sam liked to take things off the hooks they were hanging on. They both called Sully Pa. Only Elizabeth was his actual grandchild but he said, “They all come from the same family, which makes them all mine, even that bump Sierra is hanging on to.”
Then in the afternoon at about four he would say, “Time for Helen to stretch her legs. We’ll take both dogs.” And off they would go, up the trail with the dogs.
When they were out of sight of the store, Sully would take her hand, as if they were keeping a secret from anyone. Even Frank had asked Sully, “You get her by mail order catalog?” The only one who was oblivious was Leigh and that was because her mind was on one single thing—the pub owner.
“The end of next week I have to go to New York for a convention,” Helen said to Sully. “I’ll be gone almost a week. Six days. I’ll be back just after Memorial Day weekend, but you said that’s very busy for you.”
“The campground will be full and the store will be busy, but I’ll have help. Tom Canaday’s kids have worked out here in the past and they’ll work a little bit over the summer. I won’t be too busy to look across the yard to make sure you’re writing. But do you look forward to New York?”
“I love New York, plus I’ll meet with my agent and publisher, see a show, have some nice dinners and visit with friends. Would you like me to call you?”
“If you think about it,” he said. But he squeezed her hand. And she squeezed back.
The very next morning, Helen’s cell phone rang. She looked at the screen and it said Sullivan. She answered the call.
“Sorry to wake you, Helen. I know you like to sleep. But there’s a big herd of elk down by the lake. And there are new calves.”
“Oh!” she said, sitting up. She looked at the phone. “It’s 5:00 a.m. for the love of God!”
“I’ll take some pictures,” Sully said.
“No. I mean, yes, take pictures, but I’m coming.”
“Don’t drive in at your usual speed. Creep up the road. They’re pretty urbanized, not usually afraid of cars and trucks, but wildlife is most evident at dawn and dusk. If you want to see them without getting trampled...”
“I get it! Don’t let them leave!”
He started to laugh and it turned into a wheeze. “What would you like me to do? Lasso them?”
“Don’t be a smart-ass!”
She grabbed her hoodie, slipped it on and put her phone in the pocket. She stepped into her slippers. Leigh peeked out of her bedroom door. “What’s going on?”
“Sully has a herd of elk at the campground and there are new calves!”
“What are you doing?”
“I’ve been looking for them. I’m going to see. You can come.”
“In your pajamas?”
Helen looked down. They weren’t revealing. “I won’t see anyone, and if I do, they’ll think I just have rotten taste. Want to come?”
“Maybe another time,” Leigh said, going back to bed.
It was very hard for Helen to drive slowly to the Crossing but she knew it was true, from what people around town said—the elk were peaceful but they could choose the wrong moment to cross the road. Car versus elk was usually a serious affair. Twenty minutes later she crept down the road toward the Crossing and there they were! Some were grazing, a few were lying down, others up to their knees in that cold lake. She drove on the grass to pass them quietly and politely.
Sully was sitting at one of the tables on the store porch with a cup of coffee, watching quietly. A few people were out of their campers and tents, sitting up on picnic tables, watching and taking pictures.
Helen edged toward the store, parked and got out, snapping a few pictures with her phone on her way to the porch. While she was doing that, Sully had silently gone to fetch her a cup of coffee. She sat down beside him, sipped her coffee. “Sully, they’re amazing. They’re huge!”
“Haven’t seen ’em around here just lately. I suspect they’re headed up the mountain to a higher elevation. Getting warmer down here in the valley.”
“Down here?” she asked. “We’re at five thousand feet! I can hardly catch my breath.”
“You’re adjusting just fine. I count three little ones out there.”
“That’s about right, I think,” Helen said.
“One of ’em is still wobbly. That might be one of the reasons they’ve stopped for a spell.” Although her attention was fixed on the herd, she could feel his eyes on her. “Helen, what you got on there?” he asked.
“Pajamas and a hoodie,” she said. “It would have taken too long to get all dressed.”
“Pretty interesting pajamas,” he said. “I mean, attractive. Very attractive.”
“Sully, they’re just polka dot pajamas.”
“You got a lump over here in your hair. This one side is flat, there’s a bulge over on the other side and you’d do Alfalfa proud with that spike.”
“So?” she said, patting it down a little. “It’s called bed head. It’s what you get when someone wakes you up at five in the morning. If you have hair.” She hadn’t even looked in the mirror, of course.
He smiled at her. “I like it.”
Maggie didn’t have to pack a lot for her Denver runs. She had her own house there, well stocked with her daily needs from clothing to cosmetics. “I’m going tonight because I have an early surgery,” she told Cal. “I’m going to hang around till at least the weekend. Until my patient is out of the woods. Will you and Elizabeth come up for a couple of days? I want to be near the hospital to keep an eye on the surgical patients but I won’t be tied up the whole time.”
“This must be a big one,” Cal said.
“Very big,” she said. “This one carries a hefty risk for the patient but there’s no good alternative. I’m going to get a good sleep tonight. I’ll be in surgery all day.”
“Will you call me when you’re out? And yes, I can come up with Elizabeth. How about Thursday afternoon? Or would Friday morning be better?”
“I’ll be busy Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. I’m working at the clinic Thursday afternoon and won’t be late. We could have dinner, go to the park for a while, maybe put on a movie for Elizabeth and curl up while she watches it. I’ll go to the hospital two or three times on Friday and Saturday, and if all is stable we can come home Sunday morning.”
“You’re operating on Maia, aren’t you?”
“I didn’t say that,” Maggie said.
“It’s all over town,” he said. “I didn’t know it would be happening so fast.”
“It’s not that fast. It’s been weeks.”
“I heard they went to UCLA and the Mayo Clinic,” Cal said.
“We have some excellent surgeons,” she said, though not boastfully. She was incredibly glad and relieved they chose her, though the doctors they had interviewed with at UCLA and Mayo were excellent. But she’d done this surgery quite often, with good results. The position of this tumor, between the skull and the brain in the temporal lobe region, was very dicey but at least operable. Most surgeons would give her a fifty percent chance of a full recovery. Maggie, like her colleagues in LA and Scottsdale, said eighty percent. Ninety-five, Maggie secretly thought. But odds were so meaningless if you fell in that five percent. Or how about the two percent who wouldn’t survive?
The studies showed a neuronal glial tumor; the surgery could take many hours. The recovery would be difficult and painful; the length of time in physical therapy would depend entirely on how the surgery went, on how much damage the tumor or its removal caused. No matter how many CT scans, EEGs and MRIs they did, she wouldn’t know what was really going on until she got in there. But her instincts were good; she was armed with knowledge and experience.
“How do you like her chances?” Cal asked.
“If I don’t think it will go well, I look around for a better surgeon. There are cases I don’t do because I’m not the best person to do them. I wouldn’t hesitate on this, but there are still things I can’t control. Like damage the tumor caused before we get to it, something no one could have prevented.” Maggie sighed. “Do you know her?”
Cal just shook his head. Even though it was a small town, they didn’t all run in the same circles. He was a lawyer. If they hadn’t needed his legal help, he wasn’t likely to know them.
“She’s an angel,” Maggie said. And the way the rest of her life turned out could have a lot to do with how good Maggie was.
“You’re the best,” Cal said. “That’s what I hear from a lot of people you work with—you’re the best. We’ll come up to Denver in time for dinner Thursday. But call me when you’re out of surgery tomorrow.”
“I will. My mind is very busy and running all over the place. I’m seeing renderings of the brain from every angle and it makes me seem morose or worried. I’m only preoccupied. When I get up tomorrow morning, I’ll be excited and the adrenaline will be high.”
“I know,” he said.
“And when I’m done...” She’d be wiped out, but she’d get a little food, power nap, check her patient through the night. She probably wouldn’t leave the hospital until early morning, then she’d come right back. “My hair is going to be so ugly.”
He laughed. As if she ever gave much of a damn about things like hair. “Come here,” Cal said. “Kiss me. Then go. Call or text to tell me you’re there.”
She gave him a lingering kiss. “What would I do without you?”
“You’re never going to know.”
Elizabeth came toddling into their bedroom. “Mama! Mama! Wight now!”
Maggie covered her little face with kisses. This was their routine. Maggie was one of several surgeons partnered with neurologists, physical and occupational therapists in the Denver practice. She spent three or four days a week in Denver. On easy weeks she could drive ninety minutes to Denver, early on the first day, and head home at the end of the third day. On more demanding weeks, like this one, she would spend five nights, often including pulling call in the emergency room. But this she was more than willing to do because there were a few things that made her heart beat. Her husband, her daughter, her profession. And she wanted to raise Elizabeth in the pristine beauty of the Rockies.
When Finn got home from school Rob was ready to go. They had both packed small bags. Finn argued that he could do this on his own but Rob couldn’t allow him to make this emotional journey alone. Sid and Dakota were in place to hold down the forts, both the pub and the home front, where Sean would be. Sid was tending bar and helping the assistant manager, Kathleen, while Dakota was at the house. They’d stay overnight with Sean.
“There’s a lasagna and salad ready in the refrigerator,” Rob said. “Try to convince Sean to eat some of his salad and don’t take it personally if you fail in that.”
“You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble, man,” Dakota said. “I can cook! I feed Sid all the time.”
“I usually get one of the cooks to throw something together for me to bring home if I’m pressed for time. You’re all stocked up here. I don’t know when we’ll be back. Hopefully tomorrow night but I brought a couple of changes of clothes on the off chance...”
“Don’t worry about it,” Dakota said. “I go to work early on Tuesday but I get off early and Sid will be here until she goes to the pub at noon. I’ll take Sean to the batting cages after dinner, let him burn off some energy.”
“Just make sure he’s not watching porn...”
“Aw, now what are we gonna do for fun?” Cody said, grinning. “Just take care of Finn. Check in and let us know how things are going, huh?”
“Ready?” Finn asked, hefting his bag, looking at his dad. God, he looked so old, Rob thought. He looked more like a medical intern than a high school senior, soon to be college freshman. Maybe it was the seriousness of the situation that had etched the lines of worry onto his young face.
“Ready,” Rob said. “We’ll get something to eat when we get there.”
“I’m not hungry,” Finn said.
Dakota put a strong hand on Finn’s shoulder. “It’s going to be all right, buddy. I hear by the grapevine that my sister-in-law is the surgeon. She’s a lot like your aunt Sid—brilliant and accomplished.”
“I know. Thanks, Cody.”
“Try to think positive.”
“Man, I’m trying.”
“Let’s hit it,” Rob said. “We’re going to have some traffic, this time of day.”
Rob didn’t want this for his boy, this kind of drama. Instead of going to prom, Finn and Maia stayed at her house that night, had a nice dinner with her family, watched a movie. When Rob asked him what movie, he couldn’t even remember. This week, with finals done, the seniors would have their awards ceremonies, announcement of scholarships and college and ROTC placements; they’d have their Senior Skip Day, a greatly anticipated day of messing around at the lake or on the rivers. Friday night was graduation but Rob wasn’t sure if Finn would take part in it. Finn might not be part of any of it. He’d asked Rob not to plan any celebrating until after Maia’s surgery; he wanted to be sure things looked good before he shook off his worry and enjoyed all the perks or being a new graduate.
The high school was fantastic in their support. Finn’s finals were done, his grades were in; he’d finished with a high GPA. “Maia said she’d get really pissed if I blew off the finals and finished badly,” Finn said.
So they were headed to Denver to sit vigil. Finn insisted on being there to kiss her good-night tonight. Perfectly understandable. And because Maia’s parents couldn’t deny her anything before her surgery, they told Finn he was welcome.
The struggle all of this presented to Rob was an emotional boulder on his chest. He talked to Leigh about it. “He’s just a boy and I know he thinks he’s in love but I think he’d been dating her for about six months when the tumor was discovered. I want to go back to being worried about normal things, like is he getting too serious, too soon. Not is his first real girlfriend going to die and break his heart forever.”
“You’re doing exactly the right thing,” Leigh had said. “You treat this just like he’s treating it—seriously. Support him the whole way or he’ll try to go it alone. At least he’s talking to you. That’s so important.”
Rob knew the worst thing he could do was say, But you’ve only dated her for a few months! What Finn was experiencing was very real, very frightening.
What would Rob do if Leigh suddenly discovered a tumor? He’d be devastated. Terrified. He’d just found her and infatuation filled him up inside. The thought of possibly losing her now was unthinkable.
He couldn’t do it again, that’s all. He’d die, probably. In no time at all she’d become the center of his universe. He was pretty concerned about that actually. On their second official date, they’d fallen into bed like crazed lovers and had spent the weeks since meeting whenever and wherever they could find the time and the privacy. The part of him that felt eighteen again was balanced perfectly with the part that thought, At last!
It wasn’t just the sex, though that was incredible. It was the way they were together, the way they could talk, the way they could understand each other and their commitments. Their banter was fun. She was so sensitive to his obligations and he hoped she felt he supported hers. She was a busy doctor; people depended on her and she would never let them down. He wasn’t as smart or important, maybe, but he had employees and a business people depended on, not to mention two sons—he wanted to be sure he wasn’t leaving anyone underserved. His to-do list was always long. He made sure he wasn’t just phoning it in. He always checked off each item and was sure the boys knew he was completely there for them.
And, during this emotional crisis, Leigh had been completely there for him.
Rob had a persistent ache in his chest as he remembered sitting at Julienne’s bedside, holding her lifeless body in his arms, weeping. He hadn’t been haunted by that memory in recent years.
Of course he had loved Julienne. He’d loved her deeply, even if he hadn’t acted like it all the time. Her death was not just the passing of his wife, his lover; it was also the death of everything he’d planned and wished for. The death of a dream. He’d intended to be a successful restaurateur. He took great pride in his work, in his family. He’d looked forward to the years as the boys grew older, the times they’d play together as a family and the times they’d watch them at their sports. Then suddenly he was going to be doing it alone. All alone. Everything they turned out to be was on him. And at the end of a long day—and there would be many long days—there was no one to share it with, no one to complain to, no one to help. It felt like the death of his future.
He didn’t want to watch his son go through that. Not so young.
They got to Denver at five and grabbed a quick dinner. Rob talked Finn into eating, though all he wanted was to see Maia. “You can’t stay long, anyway,” Rob said. “The night before surgery, there’s medical business. Doctors and nurses will be hanging around, her parents will be there, probably with questions and discussions. We’ll eat and go over there—you can visit with her when it’s appropriate, talk to her a little and don’t get in the way. The most important thing is that this surgery happens, successfully, so you kids can get out from under this cloud.”
“No shit,” Finn said.
As Rob pulled into the hospital parking lot his pulse picked up speed and he felt strangely light-headed. “This is between you and Maia,” Rob said. “I don’t want to get in the way. Go ahead. I’ll wait right here. Take your time.”
Finn went into Maia’s room at about six thirty. Her mom sat beside the bed and smiled at him. “Hi, Finn,” Mrs. MacElroy said.
“Hi,” he said. “Thanks for letting me come. I’ll stay out of the way, I promise. But if there’s any way I can help you and Mr. MacElroy...”
“Thank you, sweetheart. I’m going to get a cup of coffee and let you kids have a visit. I’ll be back soon.”
The minute she was out of the room, Finn moved closer and Maia reached for him. She was sitting up, looking beautiful, even smiling. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, getting a little teary. “I hate that you have to go through this.”
“It’s going to be fine,” he said. “I mean, it’s going to be hard, then it’s going to be fine. I just want you to know I’ll be here all day tomorrow. I’ll come early, before you go in, and I’ll stay until it’s done.”
“Are you driving back and forth, all this way?”
“No, we’re staying at the hotel. My dad and me. We’ll stay as long as I think I need to be close. I’m not going to get in the way tonight, but my phone is charged and if you wake up in the night and need me, call me. We can at least talk if you want to.”
“Well, hello,” someone said.
Finn let go of Maia. Maggie was standing at the end of the bed. She had the requisite doctor’s white coat on but under it she wore jeans and a knit shirt, the kind of clothing he’d see her in around town. She held an iPad, her finger running over the screen as she read it.
“Finn, I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “Maia will be happy with the cheering section. So, sweetheart, we’re going to get this done. Nice and early.”
“I didn’t think I’d see you tonight,” Maia said.
“Tonight and again tomorrow morning before the anesthesiologist gets to work. He’s here, by the way, and will come in shortly to talk to you about the anesthesia. I came up early—I wanted to see you tonight. I’m going to get a good sleep and I’m going to order you a little something so you get a good night’s sleep, too.”
“Are you nervous?” Maia asked.
“Not at all, Maia. I feel good about the procedure and I’ve done it many times before. Each time is unique, of course, but that’s why I studied and practiced. I’m very optimistic. The nurse will bring you a sedative in a little while. Finn? Are you going to be here tomorrow?”
“Yes,” he said. “Until I’m sure she’s all right.”
“Did Maia explain she’ll be in intensive care for at least a couple of days?”
He nodded.
“If it’s all right with her, you can see her for a few minutes after the surgery. The first few days can be a little stormy. We’ll be managing her pain and the drugs will make it impossible for her to be completely alert. My advice is once you know the surgery is over and successful, visit briefly, then go home. If it’s okay with Maia, I can give you updates on her condition. I’m staying the rest of the week.”
“Is it okay, Maia?” he asked.
“It’s okay, but Maggie said I’m going to look a little scary for a week or so. Maybe longer. I don’t want you to freak out.”
“I’m not going to freak out, even though it’s true that just getting my wisdom teeth pulled turned me into a giant, insane pain in the butt.”
That made her smile. “Boys just don’t do that well with pain, do they?”
“So I’ve been told,” he said.
“Then do what Maggie says. You can look at me, see I’m beat-up but breathing, then go. Maggie, can he call you for updates?”
“Sure,” she said. “I’ll give you my cell number. If I don’t answer I’m in surgery or with a patient and I’ll call you back. Try not to worry. We’re very good at this and we’re going to watch her closely. I know you know this but just let me repeat—there is recovery time involved. It will be a successful surgery but it’s serious. And we’re all going to work together to get her back to one hundred percent. It will take time and patience.”
“Are you scared?” he whispered to Maia.
“Of course,” she said. “But I want it over.”
“If you wake up in the night...”
“Aren’t you in a room with your dad?”
“That doesn’t matter,” Finn said. “He understands.”
“Um, excuse me for eavesdropping, but I’m planning a pretty hefty sedative,” Maggie said. “Both of you need to get some sleep.”
“What time are you starting?” Finn asked.
“We’ll take her to the OR at about 6:00 a.m.”
“I’ll be here before that to give you a kiss for luck,” Finn said.
Finn didn’t sleep well. It felt like a series of fifteen-minute naps through the night and he picked up his phone to see the time many times. Maia didn’t call him and he hoped that meant she was resting peacefully. He was up at four, before the alarm. He was at the hospital at five. His dad stayed in the big foyer at the entry and told Finn to go up to the third floor on his own. Rob didn’t want to intrude.
Maia’s parents were already there, of course.
He walked up to Maia’s bedside. “Hi,” he said. “Did you sleep?”
“I did. Did you?”
He shrugged. “I slept enough.”
“Well, I’m going to be asleep most of the day,” she said. “Maybe you can catch a nap today...”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here when you wake up,” he said. He gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “When Maggie says it looks good, I’ll leave. I’ll come back when you’re feeling a little better. The weekend, maybe.”
Maia just smiled and said, “You’re the best boyfriend in the world.”
“I’ll probably turn rotten and take you for granted after you’re all healed.”
She leaned toward him and whispered in his ear. “Who will get you through freshman English next year if you piss me off?”
Maggie stuck her head in the room, iPad in hand, scrolling through notes. “Good morning,” she said. “I see you had a good night. You’re going to get a new hairdo, but don’t worry, it won’t be terrible or terribly obvious. We just want to make room for the incision. With all that wonderful long hair, you can probably work out a comb-over. I’ll see you in the OR. You’ll see everyone later. We’re setting up for you now.”
Maia was wheeled up to the OR and Finn and her parents followed. Then Finn staked out a chair in the waiting room outside the OR suite and Rob joined him there. After an hour, Rob took a walk. He seemed more anxious than Finn. Maia’s parents went in search of some coffee, knowing that the nurse in the OR would call them if necessary but that Maia wouldn’t be coming out for hours. Rob came back to check on Finn, then left again, going outside to use his phone.
But Finn didn’t move. Friends and even a couple of teachers texted him and asked him how things were going. Sid and Dakota texted. But Finn stayed right where he was. Rob insisted they go to the cafeteria for lunch but Finn made fast work of a sandwich and went back to the OR waiting room. From his spot, he watched a lot of doctors, nurses, techs and patients going in and out. When the day started, his mind was consumed with Maia’s well-being and recovery, but as the day progressed he was absorbed into the hospital atmosphere. Once, a man and woman both wearing scrubs ran through the OR doors and just that action caused him to shoot to his feet. Two hours later he saw them again, headed more calmly to the elevator, deep in conversation.
He felt the power and urgency of the place; he was fascinated by the sense of purpose. People were being saved here. Some, like his mother, wouldn’t make it, but if memory served, she had been surrounded by doctors and nurses as they battled to keep her alive. There were a couple of nurses at her funeral; they had been that invested in her. Maggie, whom he’d known for a few years, was always a jeans-clad woman who came into the pub for lunch or dinner with her husband now and then, a baby usually balanced on her hip. But today she was a superhero. She would be on her feet for eight hours or longer. She would do something very few people had the ability to do. She would save Maia’s life.
And Finn thought, Wouldn’t it be cool if I was smart enough to do something like that?