18

THE MOST COMFORTING THING John could think was that it could have been worse. But as it was, his son was in traction, having broken his pelvis and right femur. The blow to his head had left him with a headache. He complained of blurred vision.

John stood at the foot of the bed, observing the casts, rigging, and pulleys. “Quite a program they’ve got in here.”

Katy was more confused than anything else. She’d stopped crying, having come to believe what everyone was telling her, that her father was going to be all right. Lisa sat at the bedside, holding his hand and fingering his hair back from his forehead.

“How’s Greg?” Elgin asked.

“He’s fine,” said Lisa. “It seems he’s only broken an arm.”

“You broke his fall,” John said.

Elgin tried to focus on his father. “So, tell me.”

“Nobody’s holding anything back,” John said. “You’re going to live.”

“How long?”

“Not sure. A few weeks.”

“That bad?”

John rubbed at his temples. “You’ve got to heal. We’re talking bones.” He ran his finger along one of the ropes. “Tricky stuff.”

“How do you mean?” asked Elgin.

John shook his head and let out a breath. “Are you in much pain? They’ll give you morphine.”

Elgin looked to his daughter. “Katy. Come here, honey.” He held a hand up for her to take. “You okay?”

She nodded.

“You’re going to have to be extra-special good for Mommy.”

“Connie’s mother is coming to get her. She’s with Mr. and Mrs. Turner,” said Katy.

Elgin closed his eyes.

John cleared his throat. “Come on, let’s let him get some rest.”

Lisa leaned forward and lightly brushed his lips with hers, then stepped away.

“‘Bye, Daddy,” Katy said, ready again to cry.

John said nothing.

Greg Yount had a cast from his wrist to his shoulder. John met him coming out of Elgin’s room. Elgin was asleep. Yount rode back to Yachats with the Liveseys.

John sat in the back seat. Katy was exhausted. Sleep found her easily and she lay with her head in her grandfather’s lap.

John sat with his back straight against the seat. His window was halfway down and the air with its sea smell struck his face. He was staring at the back of Yount’s head. Elgin was going to be well, though it remained to be seen how the injuries would affect his movement. But his son was alive and he was grateful. Still staring at Yount’s head, he discovered he had a growing hatred for the people in the front seat. Lisa had gasped “Greg,” not “Elgin” nor “Oh, shit!” She had said his name and John had heard her. As clear as her utterance had been, so was the whole situation. And at some point while his son was roped up, these two would intertwine and copulate. Nothing more, just that. He wanted to be sick.

He stroked Katy’s hair and attended to his love for her. Her breathing was sweet and he tried to time his inhaling and exhaling with hers—for no reason he could find.

“Why don’t you just drop Katy and me at the house,” John said.

Lisa gave a quick glance over her shoulder.

“Just drop us off,” John repeated. “Then take Mr. Yount home. He’ll need some help getting comfortable.”

“I guess I could use a hand,” said Yount.

“Of course you could,” John said with a friendly easiness that surprised even himself. He laid a firm hand on Yount’s good shoulder. For a second, he was afraid of himself. He smiled at Lisa, who was looking at him through the rearview mirror.

It was past Katy’s bedtime when they were dropped off. John carried her into the house and took her directly to her room and put her down. He went to the living room, poured himself a bourbon, and sat by the phone. He called Oliver.

“…and it looks like he’ll be in there for a while,” John said.

“Sounds like he’s good, though,” Oliver said. “All things considered. Connie’s mother sends her best to Elgin.”

“So, she got picked up okay?”

“Yep. How are Lisa and Katy?”

“Katy’s out cold. I just put her in bed. Lisa’s just fine. I’m bushed.”

“You get some rest.”

“I’ll do that.”

He hung up and called Ruth, told her everything was all right. He wanted to ask her to come over. He started to, but instead there was a long, awkward silence.

“I guess I’ll try to sleep,” he said. “We’re going back up there in the morning.”

“Can I see you later in the day?”

“I’d like that.”

After a few minutes on the deck, watching the ocean and just breathing, he came back in and poured another drink. He sat on the sofa, closed his eyes, and he was asleep.

When he awoke, morning was just breaking. There was a blanket over him.