The concert was a night of entertainment that would not be equalled in Music City for quite some time. The press would hail Deana’s songs as some of the most innovative and groundbreaking of her career. Maggie’s name would gain greater buzz throughout the city for her role in giving the music its brilliance.
Still high from the energy of the evening, Maggie and Darla entered Maggie’s dressing room, exuberant. “Girl, you nailed those ad libs on ‘How Do You Love,’” Darla exclaimed, flopping down into a padded chair. “You were amazing.”
“We were amazing,” Maggie said breathlessly. “I just love how this band clicks; it was awesome. Hey, did you see Grace and her family wandering around back stage?”
“Nope, sorry,” Darla said.
“Let me call this girl and find out where they are,” Maggie said as she searched for her phone. She noticed there were two calls she’d missed. “Oh, Joe called,” she said, slightly surprised. “Knowing Grace, she got here in time for the last song.”
As Maggie listened to her godson’s voice mail, followed by an update from Joe, her smile became a clouded expression. She started gathering her belongings in a hectic and unorganized fashion.
“Maggie?” Darla asked.
“Um, I’ve gotta go. That was Joe. Grace has been in a car accident.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Darla said. “Is it bad?”
Maggie stopped momentarily. “It isn’t good, I’m afraid. But Joe couldn’t tell me much. I’ve gotta get out of here. If you see Richard, tell him…”
“Honey, I’ll take care of the other stuff, and bring it by your house. Don’t worry about this; don’t worry about Richard. I’ve gotcha covered. Go!” said Darla.
As soon as Maggie rounded the corner from the emergency room’s entrance the children spotted her and immediately made their way toward her. She reached out to hug the twins tightly as they clung to her and cried. “It’s gonna be okay, guys,” she said softly. “It’s all gonna be okay.”
By the time she reached Maggie, Gwen finally allowed herself to really cry for the first time that evening. “Aunt Maggie, I’m so scared!”
“I know, honey, I know. Where’s your dad?”
Gwen pointed to a solitary figure, hunched in a chair, head in hands. Maggie led the children back to their father. “Joe? It’s me, Maggie. I’m here.”
He raised his head to meet her gaze. He smiled weakly past his fatigue and fear.
“I’m sorry I’m just now getting here - I only got your message when the concert ended…”
“The show…” he said. “Maggie, I’m so sor-”
“Are you insane?” she broke in. “Don’t worry about it. Just tell me what’s going on. Where is she?”
Joe rose to his feet, ran his hands through his hair and exhaled sharply. “Well, all we know so far is that when she came in, she was unconscious and banged up pretty bad, but that’s about it. I’ve told the kids that no news is good news.”
The low volume of his voice barely concealed his emotions. “The kids are scared enough as it is. But the doctor promised he’d be down as soon as he had an update for us.”
“Who’s been called besides me?” she asked.
“I called Matt and Janice,” he said, referring to Grace’s parents. “And I just called my mom right before you got here.”
The energy Joe expended to keep it all together broke Maggie’s heart. She took his hand and said gently, “Okay, let’s find a doctor so we can get a better handle on things.”
As if her statement conjured him out of thin air, Maggie and Joe turned to see a tall, attractive African American man in medical scrubs make his way toward them.
“Mr. Buchanan?” the man asked. Joe responded with a nod. “I’m Dr. Byrd, part of the team that’s taking care of your wife.”
“How is she?” asked Maggie.
The doctor gave her a pleased, yet curious look. “Are you family?” he asked.
“She is,” Joe interjected. “Please…what’s going on with my wife?”
“The team is still working on her. There was some pretty extensive damage. We’ve had to remove her spleen; and it looks like she’s got a crushed pelvis. Both legs and an arm are broken.”
“Aw no,” Joe whispered. Maggie took his hand again. Dr. Byrd continued.
“I’ve got to tell you, on the upside, she’s holding her own. Her pressure’s remained stable, which is a miracle in and of itself. That’s the best I can tell you for now. Our primary objective is to get her through this surgery. After that, we can give you a more accurate picture.”
Joe reached out to shake the doctor’s hand, muttering a hoarse, “Thank you, Doctor.”
“Yes, thank you,” echoed Maggie. Dr. Byrd turned to her.
“You’re quite welcome,” he said. Somewhat sidetracked, the doctor’s silence made for a rather awkward moment. “Yes, well…” he said, clearing his throat. “Um, I’ll be…heading upstairs.”
“Thank you again, Doctor,” said Maggie, oblivious to the fact that she’d just been the object of a mild flirtation. She turned to Joe. “Well, we’ll take whatever good news we can, right?
“Mmm hmmm,” Joe said, giving her a mischievous smile.
“What?”
“I’m tellin’ your boyfriend,” Joe said in a sing-songy fashion as he nudged her with his shoulder.
“What?”
“Flirting.”
“I was not flirting, Joe!”
“Not you, silly…him.”
“Oh he was not!”
“Was so,” Joe argued playfully.
Maggie raised an eyebrow and returned the nudge. “Whatever. You’re a nut. Anyway, it’s just good to hear you laugh.”
Joe put his arm around Maggie as the two sat quietly, lifting silent prayers as the life of the hospital emergency room teemed around them. They were both startled by the sound of Maggie’s cell phone. The caller ID indicated that it was her father.
“Daddy…hi.”
“Baby girl, Matt just called us. How’s Grace?”
“She’s in surgery. They’re saying she’s a fighter, but she’s banged up really bad. I’m so scared. I wish you guys were here.”
“Well, that’s why I’m calling. I wanted you to know that your mom and I are on our way with Matt and Janice, so hang tight, okay? Where’s her sister?”
It was just then Maggie realized the one person who hadn’t been called was Sissy. As her eyes met Joe’s, he read Maggie’s thoughts instantly. “I’m calling her now,” Joe mouthed silently.
Sissy Hammond was dividing her attention between some important contractual paperwork and reheated pork lo mein; her considerably long legs folded one over the other as she studied her work intently.
A member of the Artist and Repertoire department of Star Records for over a decade, Sissy decided to strike out on her own when the Nashville headquarters opened shop in Los Angeles. Her success afforded her a modest house in the hills - while still a spacious showplace by anyone’s standards; it was dwarfed in comparison to the various celebrities and moguls who populated the area. Still, it had the modern charm and opulence she felt was fitting for a woman of her station in the entertainment industry.
A life that allowed little room for socializing beyond the string of gatherings, album releases and post-award show parties, Sissy was comfortably - though not altogether contentedly-living the fast paced single life. There were men who crossed her path, some relationships that had promise, but ultimately none that took root.
But if she could design for herself the perfect companion, it would be Joe Buchanan. She often teased her baby sister for snagging “the last great guy in her age group.” There was definitely a large grain of truth in much Sissy’s teasing. With Joe being only a year older than her, it was difficult for Sissy to not be slightly envious of Grace.
She picked up her phone halfway through the second ring. “Gwen Hammond.” Her focus was still on the task in front of her. “Sissy” was a hometown nickname by which few on the coast knew her.
“Um, Sissy? Hey, it’s Joe.” That was enough to capture the whole of her attention. She swallowed the food she’d just lifted into her mouth quickly.
“Hey there, Joe! Wow, it’s great to hear from you…what’s up?”
Joe’s voice was shaky and low. “Sis, listen, Grace is in the hospital. There was an accident…and it’s bad…”
As Joe apprised her of the situation, Sissy was already headed to her bedroom to pack a bag.
“I’m getting the first flight in that I can,” was her response. “Tell everyone I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Thanks Sissy. I’ll see you. Just pray, okay? Alright…bye.”
Their calls ending at roughly the same time, Maggie looked to Joe. “She’s on her way,” he said with a great deal of heaviness.
“Ma and Daddy are coming in with the Hammonds, too,” Maggie replied.
Joe gave in to a sudden surge of frustration. “How long has it been since that doctor was here?”
“I know it feels like forever, but it’s only been a few minutes, sweetie. Do you want to sit down?”
“I can’t sit!” Joe snapped. Maggie blinked in brief surprise, followed by a look of understanding.
Joe was immediately repentant. “Mags, I’m sorry…”
“It’s okay,” she said. “We’re all on pins and needles. It is an understandable response.”
The once quiet hallway now resounded with the quick tap, tap, tap of rapidly approaching heels.
“Joseph? Joseph…I’m here, darling…
Joe and Maggie turned to see the elegant, petite figure of Elise Buchanan make her way toward them.
“Mom,” Joe said with a great deal of relief. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Well of course. So, how’s our girl?” She asked in her clipped, direct tone.
“She’s in surgery, holding her own,” said Joe as he bent down to receive a kiss from her. Elise then turned her attention to Maggie, giving her a kiss on both sides of her face. “Maggie sweetheart, I’m so glad you’re here,” she said.
“Mom, would it be possible for you to take the kids with you until we know more?” Joe asked.
“Absolutely. Alright you little monkeys,” she said to them cheerfully. “How do you feel about coming home with me for a bit, huh?”
The twins cheered. To them, a day at Gramma’s Belle Meade mansion was better than any amusement park. Gwen, however, was reticent. “Daddy?” she said to Joe.
“Go ahead, hon - help your Gramma,” He reached out to hug her. “Everything’s gonna be fine. Okay?”
Gwen smiled weakly and looked up into his eyes. “Okay.”
As Elise skirted the children away, Gwen stole a glance back to Joe and Maggie. Their smiles may have been meant to reassure her, but they were trying to reassure themselves as well.
The doctors worked on Grace throughout the night. As dawn approached, they were cautiously optimistic, listing Grace in stable, but serious condition. It would be hours however, before they would have a more accurate picture of her prognosis.
After what seemed like an eternity, Joe and Maggie were finally allowed to sit with Grace. Her tiny frame was lost in a mass of equipment, wires and bandages; it took both Joe and Maggie a few seconds to recover from the shock of what they saw.
Joe creased his brow in anguish, choking back tears at the sight of her. Rounding the bed to her left side, they saw the most visible damage of the impact. As if her face had been evenly divided, the entire left side was an accumulation of cuts and bruises, while the other half was barely scathed. Her hair had been shaved to tend to a major head laceration; a large white piece of circular gauze covered the wound. Her neck was stabilized by a white foam collar. The swelling of her cheek was evidence of a fracture.
Joe pushed a chair as close as he could to that side of Grace’s bed. Tentatively, he put a hand on top of hers and stroked it softly. A nurse entered the room for a routine monitoring. “Go ahead and talk to her,” she said to Joe. “She can hear you.”
But Joe said nothing. He simply put his head down next to her.
Maggie chose that moment to make a quiet exit to check on everyone’s arrival. She first phoned her parents. Reaching her mother, she found out that their original flight was canceled due to mechanical problems, but they were put on another flight that was getting ready to depart at that moment. She could only assume that Sissy was en route as her calls went straight to voice mail. Somewhere in the flurry of activity Richard had called to check on Grace’s progress.
Managing to actually sound sincere, he promised to be there as soon as he could, but that was the least of Maggie’s concerns.
Wearily, she made her way back to Grace’s room. Joe remained face down at the side of the bed. He was breathing steadily, leading Maggie to believe that he’d drifted off to sleep. She crept quietly to the bedside, staring intently into Grace’s face, as if somehow she could rearrange the jumbled mess of skin and bones into a familiar picture.
Kissing her own fingertips, Maggie moved them to touch Grace’s forehead, then the top of Joe’s head, lifting up a prayer for both of them. She curled up on a worn leather couch in the room, silently watching her friends until her eyelids could no longer stay open.