Despite the reassurance he’d felt about his mother’s health after his talk with Carl, Jackson began to worry again that she was ill. She’d never been one to suffer from headaches. “I don’t suppose she’s talked to you any more about what’s been bothering her?”
“To me? Hardly.”
“Have you tried asking her?”
“Yes, I’ve tried. She wouldn’t say a word.”
He could only hope his mother would be back to normal tomorrow, after Tyler was home and safe. Despite the complaints he’d had about his job and his marriage, it seemed that now all he really wanted was for things to go back to the way they were before.
Maybe a few small things had changed, he thought—or, more accurately, hoped. Maybe he and Laurel had settled a few issues. Maybe they’d been brought a little closer together during this crisis with their son.
Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he saw that her face was almost expressionless, her gaze focused on Tyler, her lower lip protruding just slightly, the way it did when she was deep in thought about something. And he realized he didn’t have a clue what she was thinking. Once again, she could have almost been a stranger sitting in the room with him. So maybe they hadn’t solved their problems, after all.
What was with the women in his life, anyway? How come they were both so distant from him lately? He was almost used to it from Laurel, but his mother had always been forthcoming with him. He’d never had the feeling that she was hiding things from him—until this past week, anyway.
Was it something he was doing that was driving them away? If so, he sure as hell wished they would tell him what it was, he thought wearily, the stress of a hard day making itself felt in the knotted muscles at the back of his neck. He could use a massage himself.
Glancing at his wife again, he thought ruefully that there was no hope for help from that direction tonight.
He stayed a couple of hours, until Tyler was ready to go to sleep for the night. Laurel assured him there was no need for him to remain any longer. “We’ll be fine here for one more night.”
“You’re sure you don’t need me to stay?” He had offered several times to be the one to spend the night in Tyler’s room and allow Laurel to go home and sleep in her own bed, but she refused even to consider it.
She nodded to Tyler as the boy gave a huge, noisy yawn. “He won’t be awake much longer. The nurses will be in soon to get him settled for the night and to bring clean sheets for me.”
“What time will he be released tomorrow?”
“The doctor said sometime after ten. Camilla told me to expect a lengthy check-out process, since so many patients are released on Friday. It could be several hours of waiting.”
“I’ll be here to take you home. I’ll run by the site early and be here by ten.”
“You’re sure you can get away?”
“To take my son home from the hospital?” It rather annoyed him that she had even asked. “I’ll be here.”
“All right. I’ll call if anything changes.”
“Right. I’ll remember to charge the cell phone tonight. Do you need me to bring you anything tomorrow?”
“I’m good. I still have the extra clean clothes you brought yesterday.”
“Okay. Then I’ll see you both tomorrow.” He leaned over to kiss his wife, noting that frustrating hesitation in her response again. And then he kissed Tyler, pleased that at least his son held nothing back in his goodnight embrace.
As he stepped into his dark, empty house a while later, he thought with relief how nice it would be to come home to his family again. Even if they were already asleep, he thought with a self-directed grimace and a vow that he would try not to spend so many nights working when he should be taking time with his son. The son he could so easily have lost, he reminded himself.
And as he climbed into his empty bed, he wondered how many more nights he would have to sleep in it alone. Would things really be different when Laurel and Tyler came home? His son was being returned to him—but had he already lost his wife?
Laurel was almost giddy with anticipation Friday morning. She was taking her son home. Every medical professional she had spoken to had assured her that he was recovering phenomenally well from his surgery and had every reason to expect a long, healthy life. Though his activities would be slightly limited for the next two weeks, until his post-surgery checkup, he would be free after that to be as active as any other boy.
She worried a little about being responsible for his care now, of course. She had come to depend on the nurses and staff who had hovered so protectively over him during the past week. But they had all promised her she had nothing to be troubled about.
She had memorized the list of instructions but still worried whether she was up to the responsibility. It was that same old demon that had haunted her from the beginning—the one that taunted her with the possibility that she was no more fit to be a mother than her own had been.
It irritated her that she still fought those groundless fears. A strong, competent woman should be able to rid herself of the baggage from her past, shouldn’t she? Feeling scared and inadequate so much of the time seemed to her to be a sign of weakness. And she didn’t try to place any of the blame for her insecurities on Jackson or Donna. She knew she wouldn’t allow herself to be shaken by their expectations if she had enough confidence in her own capabilities.
“You’ll be fine, Mrs. Reiss,” Camilla assured her. “You both will,” she added with a smile for Tyler. “But if you have any questions at all, feel free to call any of the nursing staff here, okay?”
“I’ll do that. Thank you so much.”