Donna thrived on being pampered and cosseted, while Laurel was more likely to feel smothered and stifled. Still, she couldn’t help but respond to the genuine concern in Carl’s kindly eyes. “Thank you. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”
Satisfied with her answer, he released her and turned to follow his wife out of the room. Jackson stayed another hour. Keeping their voices low to avoid disturbing Tyler, he and Laurel continued to discuss the practicalities of the next day—rearranging their work schedules, contacting their insurance agent, canceling a couple of appointments. Both very cordial and efficient, they kept their emotions—about their son and each other—tightly reined.
Eventually, Jackson glanced at his watch and sighed. “I might as well head home. You’re sure you don’t need anything before I go?”
“Just bring back the things on the list I gave you when you come back in the morning. I’m set until then.”
He nodded. “Call me if you think of anything else.”
“I will.” She watched as he stood for a moment beside the bed, looking down at their sleeping child. Jackson reached out a hand as if to stroke Tyler’s tousled hair, but then drew it back, perhaps because he didn’t want to disturb the boy. He turned away from the bed with visible reluctance.
Laurel stood beside the door as Jackson prepared to leave. Though it was quiet in this room, sounds from the hallway outside drifted in—staff talking and laughing at the nurses’ station, carts squeaking on the linoleum, the rhythmic swishing of the janitor’s broom. They were sounds she heard often in her job as a placement social worker for the Children’s Connection adoption agency, which was affiliated with this hospital, but it was all different tonight. Unnervingly so.
Jackson must have read something in her expression. “You’re sure you don’t want me to stay?”
Even as she assured him once again that everything would be fine, she wondered how many more times she would have to say it before she believed it herself.
Jackson bent his head to kiss her goodbye. The very slight hesitation just before their lips touched had nothing to do with current circumstances; she had noticed it several times when he’d kissed her during the past few months.
Watching the door close behind him, she couldn’t help thinking of the kisses they had shared early in their whirlwind courtship—eager, passionate, joyous and thorough. There had been no hesitation between them then, not even at the very beginning. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the kisses had changed, or what had caused the change, but she felt the gulf between them growing wider all the time.
Impatiently shaking her head, she turned back to the rocking chair. She had a sick child to worry about now. This was no time to analyze the condition of her ailing marriage.
Thursday was, perhaps, the longest day in Jackson’s life. Every minute seemed to crawl past with agonizing slowness. He had never been one to sit still for very long, and the forced inactivity of hospital waiting was a frustrating ordeal for him.
Laurel’s attention was focused exclusively on their son, of course. Jackson’s mother spent most of the day at the hospital and she, too, dedicated herself to keeping Tyler calm and entertained. Laurel and Donna were, as always, impeccably polite to each other.
Jackson paced, restlessly roaming the room and the hallways, rocking on his feet, trying not to think about the surgery tomorrow and trying not to envy his father, who had decided to spend the day working, since there was nothing productive he could do at the hospital.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend the day with his family, Jackson assured himself with a touch of guilt. It was just that there was nothing here for him to do. Nothing to make him feel as though he was accomplishing something worthwhile.
He lasted until midday. When it occurred to him that he, Laurel and Donna were all simply sitting there watching Tyler eat his lunch, he surged impatiently to his feet. “I think I’ll go see how things are going at the job site.”
Tyler immediately set down his spoon and pushed away the rolling bed tray. “I go, too.”
Forcing a smile, Jackson ruffled his son’s hair. “Not this time, buddy.”
The boy’s lower lip protruded in a familiar manner. “Don’t wanna stay here.”
“I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
But Tyler had had enough of this place. Shaking his head, he held out his arms to his father, looking fully prepared to launch into one of his rare, but daunting, tantrums. “Daddy. Wanna go with Daddy.”
Jackson could almost feel Laurel’s disapproving look on the back of his neck, silently blaming him for starting this when things had been going so well before. He grew immediately defensive in response, as he so often did with her lately. “There’s really nothing I can do here for now,” he said to her. “And I have responsibilities to my job.”
“As do I,” she murmured.
Always the peacemaker, Donna jumped in hastily to avert Tyler’s impending outburst and placate his parents. “Tyler, sweetie, Gammy’s going to play a game with you as soon as you’ve finished eating, remember? We talked about it. And, Jackson, there’s no reason for you to stay here twiddling your thumbs now when you’ll very likely be here all day tomorrow. Run along to take care of things at your job site. Actually, Laurel, you can check in at your office, too, if you’d like. It isn’t as if you would be far away. Tyler and I will be just fine here, won’t we, darling?”
She spooned a bite of orange sherbet into the boy’s mouth as she spoke. That treat, and the promise of a game with his beloved grandmother, was enough to mollify him somewhat. He sniffed and reached again for the spoon.
“I’ll stay with my son,” Laurel said.
Was that another dig at him? Jackson could no longer tell if he was only imagining disapproval in her eyes when she looked at him. “Guess I’ll go on, then. Have fun playing your game with Gammy, Tyler. I’ll be back soon and I’ll have a surprise for you, okay?”
He heard Laurel sigh, but Tyler smiled. For now Jackson told himself that was enough.
As he left the hospital room, he couldn’t help remembering a time when Laurel had smiled at him with such affection. And he wondered sadly whatever had happened to those smiles. He missed them. He missed her, damn it.