Just Destiny Page 6

  Judith’s eyebrows rose. “No, I’m not afraid you’ll screw it up. The funeral director pretty much guides you through it any way. I just thought it’d be something I could do for him. It would make Gabe happy, knowing I was helping you.”

  “He’s dead,” she bluntly reminded in an effort to shock her nemesis and, in a perverse way, to prove her toughness. “You think he’ll know the difference?”

  Tears glistened in Judith’s eyes, although her voice was firm. “He’ll know. His spirit lives on. Through Alex and Ted, and that little baby you’ll carry. He’ll always be with us.”

  And that little baby you’ll carry. She looked at Judith, curious. “So you think I’m doing the right thing?”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  “Even the baby?”

  “What baby?” As they talked, Alex left Gabe’s room and eased into her mother’s arms. Alex’s face lit with hope and a tentative smile softened her lips as she looked at Jenny. “You’re pregnant?”

  “Not yet, sweetie.” Judith stroked her daughter’s hair. “They’re going to save Dad’s sperm so Jenny can be inseminated.”

  “About time,” Alex said.

  Judith patted her arm. “Check on your brother for me, will you?”

  Jenny’s eyes widened. Alex wanted a baby brother or sister? “About time?”

  Judith shrugged. “You’re young, Jenny. We’ve been expecting an announcement that you were pregnant.”

  “But Gabe wasn’t—isn’t,” Jenny corrected, unwilling to declare him past while his body still lay warm mere yards away. “Gabe isn’t that young to be starting all over again.”

  “He wasn’t that old,” Judith corrected, silently chiding Jenny to accept the inevitable. “Besides, he loved you. He loved kids. I expected that he’d want to have children with you.”

  Her assumptions were a balm to Jenny’s soul. Of course Gabe would want her to have his baby.

  Chapter 5

  George came home from fly-fishing totally beat. He threw his canvas duffel down and walked into the kitchen. Ignoring the blinking red light on his answering machine, he turned on the TV and snagged a cold root beer from the refrigerator. He sat at the counter, hoping to catch the score of the Tigers’ game on the noon news. If they beat the White Sox last night, they’d go on to the playoffs. He reached in a cupboard and opened a new bag of Fritos.

  “And in the local news, a prominent Grosse Pointe surgeon and humanitarian, doctor Gabriel Harrison, is in critical condition at Saugatuck General Hospital.”

  George’s head whipped up. Hand pausing half way to his mouth, he stared at the screen.

  “While vacationing in Saugatuck, he and his wife were riding bicycles when Dr. Harrison was hit by a car.”

  “What the hell?” George said.

  Mrs. Harrison was treated for minor abrasions and released. The driver has been charged with reckless endangerment. And,” he paused for dramatic effect, “if Dr. Harrison dies, the driver could be charged with manslaughter—which carries a possible three- to five-year prison sentence in the state of Michigan. So our prayers go out to the Harrison family. Now onto…” The rest of the newscaster’s speech fuzzed over.

  Fury burned in George’s chest. Why hadn’t they called? He grabbed his coat and hurried to his Saab. Numbness spread through his body as he imagined a car plowing into Gabe’s bike. He raced onto I-94 and accelerated to eighty miles an hour.

  Gabe was critical? He couldn’t be dead or the driver would’ve been charged with manslaughter. He could be in a coma. Did Judith and the kids know? He picked up his cell phone, searched his recorded numbers, and then threw it back in the seat. He didn’t have her number with him. Alex and Ted’s numbers were programmed in, but if they didn’t know about their dad, he didn’t want to alarm them before he had any facts.

  George pulled out and raced around a slower Toyota, giving the driver a dirty look as he flew by. “Damn tortoise.”

  The burning in his gut prodded George to flatten the accelerator with complete disregard for the posted speed limit. Spoiling for a fight, he almost welcomed a vigilant police officer, then he eased off the pedal, realizing he didn’t want to waste time with a traffic cop. He couldn’t afford the time; Gabe may be dying.

  It was late afternoon by the time George located the hospital and stormed the receptionist’s desk demanding information. He took a deep breath and stiffened his resolve when the volunteer confirmed that Gabe was in the ICU. Gabe would be all right. He’d be fine. The elderly volunteer cautioned George that he might not be able to visit his nephew because of their strict visitation policy, but her voice trailed off as she spoke to his retreating back.

  George punched the round pewter disk and waited impatiently for the ICU doors to swing open. Entering Gabe’s quiet room, his glance slid past Alex, Ted, Judith, and Jenny to where Gabe lay peacefully sleeping. The tightness gripping George’s chest ever since he’d heard the news broadcast eased. Although a white tube protruded from his mouth connecting Gabe to some machine, numerous electrodes covered his chest, and an IV line ran in one arm, he didn’t look as banged up as George had feared.

  Big black bruises ringed Gabe’s eyes, like a raccoon’s, and a few scrapes scabbed over on his arm, but his color was nice and pink. George let out the breath he’d been holding. All things considered, Gabe looked okay. And Judith was here. His shoulders relaxed. With her here, he was certain his nephew would receive the best care.

  George moved into the room and hugged his great niece and nephew before turning to their mother. “Why didn’t you call? I had to find out about Gabe on the news.”

  “The news?” Judith looked at Jenny.

  He turned from Jenny to Judith. “Yeah. I got back from fishing, turned on the news, and they said some idiot creamed Gabe.”

  “How’d the press find out?” Judith asked Jenny.

  “I don’t know.” Then her frown eased. “It must have been Ken Stanley. He was here.” Jenny turned to him. “I had them call St. Francis’s chief of neuro for a consult. We called you,” she looked at Judith for confirmation, “and left messages. Several.”

  “Didn’t you check your answering machine?” Judith asked.

  “No. I left as soon as I heard.” Ignoring Jenny, he looked at Judith. “So how’s he doing? What’s the damage? Is he in a coma or what?”

  Judith’s gaze slid from Jenny to her children. “Ted, why don’t you and Alex get a snack?”

  Ted shifted uncomfortably. “Do you want us to bring you anything?”

  “There’s no food allowed in ICU.” She looked to Jenny, “But you could eat in the hall.”

  Jenny looked away, speaking softly. “No, thank you.”

  Since when had Judith cared about feeding Jenny? George thought she had little use for the girl, barely tolerating her. Stress did strange things to people. The kids left, Alex sniffling and avoiding everybody’s gaze, and Ted guiding her with a hand on her shoulder. Poor guys. Did they really need to be here? What was the matter with Judith? Couldn’t she have waited until Gabe looked a little better before bringing the kids to see him?

  He looked at Judith. “Now that you’ve gotten rid of the kids, how’s my boy?”

  She looked at Jenny and some silent communication passed between them before Judith stood. “He’s gone, George. He suffered a severe intracranial injury. I talked with the specialist, but all the tests indicate that Gabe has no brain activity. The machine is maintaining his respiration.”

  He frowned. “Wha’da ya mean, gone? Like dead? Look at him—he’s not that bad.” He gestured to Gabe. “He’s just in a coma or something. He’ll come out of it.”

  Judith sadly shook her head. “That’s not going to happen. We’ve been waiting for you. We’ve kept him going so you could say good-bye.”

  George sank into a nearby chair and stared at Gabe. “You’re kidding, right? This is some kind of a sick joke.” His gaze bounced between the two women, trying to find some scrap of hope i
n their expressions, but he only found abject misery. This was no joke. No mistake. He turned on Judith. “What’s the matter with you people? Fix him.”

  “There’s nothing we can do, George.”

  “Nothing?” The fight went out of him at the miserable shake of her head.

  Jenny stood with her arms wrapped around her stomach.

  “We need to say good-bye,” Judith said.

  Tears filled his eyes as he stared at Gabe. Swallowing hard, he swiped an unsteady hand across his mouth. “When?”

  “Now that you’re here, there’s no reason to prolong it.”

  “Now?” He’d just gotten here and they wanted him to say good-bye and walk away?

  “We can give you a little time alone with him, but we need to do this before long. It’s for

  the best.”

  “Whose best?” George railed. “It’s only been a day, for Chrissake.”

  “All our sakes. His sake. He needs us to let him go.”

  George stared at Gabe’s still form, allowing the truth to sink in. His lips began to tremble; his hand covered his mouth, stilling them. He stared at the man in the bed, the man he’d raised and loved like a son. He’d gotten Gabe through his parent’s deaths, he’d taken him fishing, and taught him to drive on his old Ford Taurus. They had season tickets to the Tiger’s games. Gone? Fuck.

  He closed his eyes against the truth. “What now?”

  “We’ll call the mortuary and let them know we’re ready. When the kids get back, we’ll say our good-byes…and leave.”

  He blinked furiously to stem the tears. With his thumb and index finger he pinched his nose. He forced his eyes open and looked at Judith. “Nobody’s going to be with him in the end? That’s not right.”

  Jenny reached for Gabe’s hand. “I’ll be here."

  An immediate protest formed on George’s lips, but he saw the grief etched on her young face and remembered how Gabe always jumped to her defense. He’d been crazy about the girl. Totally blind in love. Much as he wanted to deny it, Gabe would want it to be her. He blew out a deep breath, nodding.

  It’d been hard burying his wife, parents, and sister, but this was infinitely more difficult. Too soon. Adele’s death had been a heartbreaking tragedy. George’s mother had been older when she died, and his father—his death had been hard, but they’d lived productive lives. For the most part. And his sister, Jan? Well, she’d simply been dumb and careless.

  She’d followed that do-gooder husband all over the world to any unsettled third-world country when she should have been home taking care of herself. Plain stupid was what she was, but her son never went looking for trouble: Gabe was a good boy—a good man, George corrected. The best. He didn’t deserve this.

  When Judith left the room, Jenny gave him one last stern look before slowly following.

  What the hell does she think I’m gonna do to you? He scowled back at her and pursed his lips hard against a caustic comment. Jesus, Gabe, I’ll never understand why you married that one. Never mind her—I don’t know how much time they’re going to give me with you.

  What in the hell happened? How can you be gone? I wasn’t expecting this yet. I should have had more time with you. He paused and closed his eyes against the pain tightening his chest. He opened his eyes and looked at his nephew’s face, hoping to see a reaction, desperately hoping they’d all been wrong. I never really came out and said it, but you know how much I love you and how proud of you I am, right? I mean, sure, we had our little quarrels—mostly over that girl— He shook his head. Sorry.

  It’s just…I tried to give you a happy life. I worked so damn hard to protect you—but I couldn’t have seen this coming. Dead at forty-three? Shit. What a waste. I am so damn tired of the waste. After your mother died, I should have been prepared for another life taken too soon, but it wasn’t supposed to end like this. Maybe it’s for the best, but damn it hurts. He dropped his head and hot tears scalded his hand. I’m just not ready for you to leave me too. Not yet.

  But you’ll be okay. He blew out a deep, hot breath. Jan. Adele. Those girls’ll take good care of you. It’s me I’m cryin’ for, you know that, right? You were my son. My best friend. I’ve never known a better man, and that’s the truth. He sobbed. I love you, Goddammit, and I miss you so damn much already.

  George heard footsteps and clothing rustling at the door. He took his handkerchief from his back pocket and turned his back on Judith, Jenny, and the approaching kids. He wiped his eyes and blew his nose, a loud honking sound.

  A blue scrubs-clad doctor and nurse and some Amy chick, probably a bereavement counselor, paraded in after them. With apologetic eyes, the doctor instructed them to say their good-byes. One by one, they hugged Gabe and whispered some last words of love in choked voices, leaving the room blinded by tears. First Alex and Ted, then Judith, and then himself.

  My God, he’d just got here an hour ago and already they were making him go. They didn’t give a man much time, did they? Maybe it’s just as well. Jenny took the longest, but they didn’t have too long to wait before a nurse escorted her from the room.

  He watched in astonishment as Judith and Alex both wrapped comforting arms around a sobbing Jenny and led her down the hall. Grief did strange things to people, he thought as he and Ted followed. The Amy lady trailed behind, like the caboose on a train. She was probably just as useless. When they reached the elevator, he turned back and out of the corner of his eye, he saw them wheel Gabe away in the opposite direction around the corner.

  Although he was now on a gurney, George was sure it was Gabe. What in the hell was going on? Why was he still hooked up to the breathing machine? George turned around and sprinted down the hall. Pain from arthritis in his hip caused him to limp, but he caught up to them. “Hey, what’re you doing? Where are you taking him?”

  They paused but didn’t stop until he passed them and blocked the hall.

  “Where are you taking my boy?”

  The doctor looked beyond him to where Amy had come up behind them.

  George narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s okay, George. This is how it’s done.” Judith said. The others gathered behind her.

  “How what’s done? When you die, your body stops breathing and they cover you with the sheet. Or they put you in some giant black baggie or something.” He pointed at Gabe lying on the gurney, chest still rising and falling with the machine. “That is not how it’s done. He’s still breathing.”

  “Gabe wanted to donate his organs,” Judith said.

  “The hell he did,” he exploded.

  “It’s what Gabe wanted. Jenny signed the papers.” Judith looked at the waiting team. “Go ahead.”

  “You can’t do that.” Donate his organs? He looked at his helpless nephew, picturing them slicing him open and hollowing him out before giving him back to them to put into the ground. He didn’t deserve that. He was a good man. He deserved to be buried whole, with honor. Rage and betrayal ripped through George.

  The team resumed pushing Gabe’s gurney.

  “You do and I’ll sue you and this whole damn hospital,” he snarled. He pointed an accusing finger at Jenny. “I don’t give a damn what she signed, nobody’s carvin’ up my boy.”

  Amy eased around the others, little miss meek preparing to confront the lion. “Mr. Turner, I understand your concern, but—”

  “You understand nothing, lady.” He turned back to the doctor. “You’re not taking him anywhere. You turn that machine off right here and let him die with dignity.”

  “We can’t do that,” the doctor said.

  Jenny, her face red and blotchy from crying, looked at the waiting team. Squaring her shoulders, she said, “Please. Take him.”

  The team wore varying degrees of relief and acceptance on their faces as they escaped. They’d actually listened to the little twit. Astonished, he turned on her. “Stop them.”

  “It’s what he wanted, George,” she choked out.

  �
�How the hell could you know what he wanted? You only knew him a few years, I knew him his whole life, and I’m tellin’ you it’s not right.” He chased after the team. “Wait,” he yelled as they pushed Gabe onto the elevator.

  They hesitated long enough to look past him to Jenny, who nodded miserably as the stainless steel doors glided shut.

  Gabe was gone. He had to get him back. He couldn’t let them do this. It was inhumane.

  “Goddammit, come back here. I’ll sue!” he yelled, smacking his palm against the cold pewter doors.

  Judith put a hand on his arm. “George, calm down. The decision’s been made. And I think it’s the right one.”

  “Then you’re an idiot.” He shook loose, giving her a stony glare of betrayal. They were going to carve Gabe up over his dead body. He’d lost enough. Gabe would be buried with the same parts he came into the world with. Mind racing, he struggled to gather his scattered thoughts. It’s clear they wouldn’t listen to him, but they’d have to listen to a judge. “Let go me. I’ve gotta call my attorney.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, you can’t stop it. Gabe believed in organ donation, and as his closest living relative, Jenny’s wishes take precedence.”

  He glared at the bereavement counselor. “Is that true?”

  She nodded. “Yes, but most people—”

  “Stop them.” He hovered over Jenny, crowding her, intimidating. “You can stop it. They’re going to carve him up and hollow him out like a Thanksgiving turkey. How can you let them do that? And you claimed to love him,” he scoffed.

  “I do love him,” Jenny whispered, anger glistened in her tear-drenched eyes.

  “Then stop them.” Tears burned his eyes. He wasn’t too proud to beg. He looked at Jenny, letting her see his gut-wrenching sorrow and desperation. “Stop them. Please.”

  “I can’t.” She held his gaze. “It’s what he wanted.”

  He bent his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. Tears eased around his fingers in a steady, uncontrollable flow. There had to be a way. He raised his head to the ceiling, blinked hard and took a deep steadying breath.