CHAPTER SIX

Marie hadn’t left the hospital since she’d found Paul lying broken, near death on the side of the road a week earlier. She slept no more than fifty-five minutes of any hour in the waiting room’s plastic seats each night. She approached Paul’s bedside to hold his hand and whisper to him for the five minutes of every hour she was allowed around the clock. The hospital staff had surrendered their efforts to persuade her to go home and rest. Guilt attached her to her child’s bedside, Darla knew.

Guilt also appended Darla to Marie’s suffering every evening after work. Darla arranged a paid leave of absence for Marie. A substitute teacher handled Marie’s classes. Under the circumstances, this was the least Darla could do. Marie had no savings and wouldn’t be able to pay her bills or for Paul’s medical care if she lost her job.

Each evening a taxi brought Darla to share Marie’s vigil. She bore Marie’s clean clothes and food for dinner. Marie prayed for Paul constantly. Darla prayed for him, too, knowing full well that when he awakened she would then be asked to exchange her life for his. It was a sacrifice she would willingly make, but she was reminded of the admonition to be wary of answered prayers. When Paul woke up, then Darla would call Jennifer Lane; she’d need a good lawyer.

“Kevin Cook was here today,” Marie said as she pretended to chew on the Cuban sandwich Darla had delivered. She sipped a bit of hot coffee and tried to wash the lump of bread and meat past her gullet. Marie had lost at least ten pounds in the past week, weight she couldn’t spare.

Marie said, “It was so hard. Kevin asked me about Paul’s life and I didn’t know what to say.”

The bones in her face were as prominent as an emaciated corpse. Her shiny blonde hair now fell in dirty strands about her shoulders. Gone was the happy, celebratory young woman of a few nights ago.

Darla understood exactly what Marie meant. Paul was not an easy child. Sweet and loving one minute, angry and abusive the next; he still wet the bed at night. Many times, Marie had been reduced to tears of helplessness and frustration. Darla had tried to suggest alternatives for Paul, but Marie had ignored them.

Yet, Marie loved her son, as most mothers love their children, regardless of bad behavior. Darla had seen such misplaced love many, many times in parent conferences. Parental ambivalence was normal.

“Any progress on the investigation?” Darla asked, changing the focus, hoping the answer would be no.

Marie moved her head back and forth. “He says they’ve done all they can. They’re sending the file up to the Florida Department of Law Enforcement. But he says it doesn’t look good for finding out who did it.”

A few tears dripped from Marie’s eyes and she ignored them. Darla wondered where the water came from. Marie had cried so much in the past week that she should have been totally dehydrated by now.

“If Paul… doesn’t wake up…” Marie began and the tears intensified. She took a sip of the coffee as Darla put her arm around Marie’s shoulders for comfort. She felt the bony shoulders and skinny arms underneath Marie’s cotton shirt. “… then it will be a vehicular homicide. But that won’t make the case easier to solve.”

Darla gave her another squeeze. “Oh, honey. No matter who hit Paul, it’s done. We can’t rewind the clock and make this go away. We have to face reality.” Like I wish I’d done, Darla thought. She tried to soothe Marie’s hurt, but the words seemed to enrage her.

“The bastard owes us an apology, Darla! He needs to lie in a hospital bed with his body all banged up. He needs to suffer!” Marie broke down completely then, sobs overtaking her as they had so many times in the past week.

Darla removed the coffee cup from her hand and took the sandwich away. She buried Marie’s head in her own shoulder and patted her while her ragged sobs continued.

“I’m sorry, Marie, honey. I’m so, so sorry this has happened.”

But Darla’s apology didn’t soothe Marie at all. “Oh, Darla. We’d had a big fight, Paul and me. It’s my fault. He didn’t want to go. I shouldn’t have made him stay overnight away from home. I should have kept him with me. You know how upset he gets if he’s away from me too long. I shouldn’t have left him there.”

“Shush, honey. It’s not your fault. You thought he was safe.” Darla continued to hold her, trying to make her feel better in this impossible situation, wondering how much longer Darla would be around to take care of them both.

“But the very last thing I said to him was so mean! I told him I needed time to myself, without him!” Marie broke down then, sobbing and inconsolable. “What have I done?”