Andrew sat in a waiting room seat, knee bouncing and jaw clenched. Kandace paced a few feet away. He wanted to tell her to sit down, but he didn’t have the mental capacity to form words. Susan hadn’t left his side since they loaded Lucas into the ambulance, but she hadn’t said anything either. He was grateful for both.
“Ms. Newton?” A man in scrubs and a hair cap headed for Kandace. He nodded toward a side door. “Do you want to join me in here, and we’ll talk?”
She shook her head. “No. They need to hear this. What’s going on?”
The doctor sat and patted the spot next to him. “We treated him based on what was found around him. The liquor and empty prescription bottle.”
Like father, like son. Andrew kept the bitter thought to himself.
The doctor continued. “There’s no way to know how long ago he took them, and it will take time to confirm that’s all he’s got in his system. He’s on respiration and fluids. His vitals are steady, but he’s not out of the woods yet. Once he wakes up, we’ll be more confident with his diagnosis.”
“Can I sit with him until then?” Kandace asked.
“Yes. But”—the doctor frowned—“you’ll need to talk to the police, first. They’re waiting.”
This was too much for Andrew. “The boy is lying unconscious in a fucking hospital bed, and you want her to answer some piddly fucking questions?”
“Stop.” Kandace shot him a warning look.
The doctor looked sympathetic. “I’m sorry, but it’s the law. He’s a minor, he’s injured, this looks like a suicide attempt, and he got the pills and liquor from somewhere. You can see him and then speak with them in a nearby room. They’ve been patient waiting until we had answers, I’ll ask them to give you ten more minutes so you can see your son.”
Andrew wanted to protest. To rant and rave about how Kandace was an amazing parent who this was obviously destroying, and how dare they question that? But doing so would add to her stress. He had to bite his tongue until it ached.
The three followed the doctor through a series of doors, upstairs in the elevator, and through more doors, before he gestured to a room. As the doctor warned, two police officers waited in the hallway. They had the courtesy to step aside when Kandace rushed toward Lucas. Andrew followed.
Lucas lay in the middle of a too-big for him bed, wires running to monitors, a tube connected to a bag, and a mask with what Andrew assumed was a tube running down his throat. The boy looked smaller than normal. Suicide attempt. The doctor’s words rang in is ears. Pills and liquor. He wanted to say Lucas wouldn’t do that, but he hadn’t spent enough time here, to know. Was it Andrew’s revelation on Saturday that caused this, or was that a selfish thought?
He stared at the frail body, so many questions tormenting him. Why did this happen?