Billy didn\u2019t answer the first call, but the second time his cell phone vibrated on the night stand, he reached for it, pushed himself into a sitting position and answered. The room was dark except for a slat of gray light where the curtain fell open slightly, like a loosened bathrobe. Deborah leaned across and kissed his chest, resting her hand on his thigh. He caught her by the wrist.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere are you? Okay. I\u2019m leaving.\u201d He switched the phone off.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d Deborah asked.<\/p>\n
He looked at her. \u201cAn accident. My older boy\u2019s in the hospital.\u201d He flung the sheets aside and stood. For a moment he remained frozen, then exhaled loudly and started to pull on his clothes. Deborah slipped out of bed and dressed quietly.<\/p>\n
\u201cSorry,\u201d Billy said.<\/p>\n
She nodded, touched his arm. \u201cGo. I\u2019ll let myself out.\u201d<\/p>\n
The evening air was chilly, almost cold, as Billy climbed into the cab of his truck. A moment later Deborah emerged, pulled the door shut and walked over to her sister\u2019s house. She glanced at him as she crossed the driveway, lifting her hand in a quick wave.<\/p>\n
Earlier that afternoon, she had sauntered across the backyard and introduced herself as Peggy\u2019s younger sister. Billy had been grilling burgers. When she asked him if he always grilled on Thanksgiving he shrugged and took a long pull from his bottle of beer.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy ex-wife took my boys to her parents, where I am not exactly welcome,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
Deborah had a round face like her sister, the same blue eyes. She wasn\u2019t as pretty, but there was something else, Billy thought, something just as good. He fetched two more beers and she sat opposite him while he ate at the faded red picnic table he had not yet stored for winter.<\/p>\n
He told her about his boys, ages five and three, said the worst part of being divorced was not seeing them every day. He hated the idea of custody, the word itself, like his boys were under arrest or something.<\/p>\n
He didn\u2019t tell her about Stacy or how he\u2019d felt a year earlier when she took the boys and moved into an end unit, three-bedroom townhouse her father helped her purchase, leaving Billy to buy her out of the small ranch house they\u2019d lived in during the seven years of their marriage.<\/p>\n
Billy had tried to be a good husband. He had his nights out, but he was a good provider and a good father and kept in shape.<\/p>\n
Stacy had let herself go after the boys were born, gaining weight. A little bit after Jimmy, a little more after Stevie. He wanted to say something to her, but wasn\u2019t sure what or how. Didn\u2019t she know she should take care of herself? Wasn\u2019t that part of the deal? As their marriage came undone, Stacy hurled names at him: drunk, cheater. He didn\u2019t say what he thought about her weight, didn\u2019t call her fat because she wasn\u2019t really, just heavier. He didn\u2019t tell her that it felt like she had turned her back on him after she had what she wanted from their marriage\u2014-the boys\u2014-his services no longer needed, thank you. He didn\u2019t try to defend himself, but he did imagine her dying or being killed in a car accident.<\/p>\n
When the late afternoon light started to fade, Peggy had come out of her house. Deborah waved at her. \u201cI\u2019ll be in later. I\u2019m just talking to Billy.\u201d Peggy crossed her arms over her chest, clutching her elbows, and looked at them a moment longer before going back inside.<\/p>\n
Stacy was seated in the waiting area outside the emergency room, hands folded and pressed against her forehead, elbows on her knees. She didn\u2019t see him enter.<\/p>\n
\u201cHi.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked up. In the florescent light her face was pale, washed out, eyes watery and red, blonde hair that fell even with her jawline unkempt, as if she had been running her hands through it, which she did when she was upset. She stood and hugged him, leaning in, allowing him to hold her. She felt thinner and her hair had a faint lemony scent.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m glad you\u2019re here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
She sat and he took the seat next to her.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey were going outside to play…\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDad and the boys. Mom and I were washing the dishes, the boys were restless, you know how they get. Anyway, Dad was going to take them out in the backyard, let them run around.\u201d She gave him a bewildered look as if trying to recall what came next. \u201cJimmy went ahead of Dad and Stevie. Dad was helping Stevie with his sweatshirt and his shoes had come untied, so Dad was helping him tie them in double knots. Stupid stuff. Jimmy goes out the back door. Dad calls to him to wait, he and Stevie would just be a minute. But you know Jimmy.\u201d She shook her head, pushed her hands through her hair. \u201cI don\u2019t know what happened, Billy. He must have tried to climb on the porch rail.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShit,\u201d Billy said softly.<\/p>\n
Stacy stared at him, not just her mouth but her whole face trembling, as if on the verge of bursting open. \u201cHe wasn\u2019t moving.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere is he?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIntensive care.\u201d Her eyes started to tear. \u201cHe\u2019s in a coma.\u201d<\/p>\n
Billy shot to his feet, felt dizzy, closed his eyes, breathed. This can\u2019t be real, he thought. This isn\u2019t supposed to happen. He started walking, turned and saw Stacy gathering her jacket and purse.<\/p>\n
\u201cThird floor,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
Walt was seated in the corner along a row of chairs in the waiting area. He stood when he saw them, hugged Stacy, offered Billy a weak handshake. He was nearly as tall as Billy, but flabby, with thin, graying hair and thick brown horn-rimmed glasses. He was a retired insurance salesman. He and Billy tolerated each other, but during an argument just before she moved out, Stacy told Billy her father thought he was a bullshit artist. Billy thought Walt was soft.<\/p>\n
\u201cAny update?\u201d Stacy asked.<\/p>\n
Walt shook his head. \u201cNot a word since they took him back there.\u201d He nodded in the direction of a set of double doors on the other side of the nursing station.<\/p>\n
Stacy squeezed her father\u2019s arm and slumped into a chair along the wall. Billy and Walt sat on either side of her.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you call mom?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. Stevie is asleep.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood.\u201d<\/p>\n
They sat without speaking for several minutes. Billy rubbed his eyes, pressed the heels of his hands against his temples. A nurse came from the other side of the station and they looked up, but she continued down the corridor.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t understand how it happened,\u201d Billy said after a moment. He stared at the floor. Light green linoleum with flecks of white.<\/p>\n
Walt shifted in his chair, crossed his legs. Stacy watched the nurses\u2019 station, as if any news about Jimmy would initiate there.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was a freak accident,\u201d Walt said. \u201cLittle boys do crazy things.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, they do.\u201d Billy nodded, lips pressed tightly together.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNothing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSay what you\u2019re thinking.\u201d<\/p>\n
Billy looked at Walt. \u201cLittle boys do crazy things, especially if they\u2019re left alone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBilly, please.\u201d Stacy said.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s okay,\u201d Walt told her. \u201cHe\u2019s right. Maybe if Jimmy\u2019s father had been there it wouldn\u2019t have happened.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t remember being invited.\u201d<\/p>\n
Stacy raised her hands. \u201cPlease just stop.\u201d<\/p>\n
Billy rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes. He couldn\u2019t let his fat-ass father-in-law get to him. He heard Walt trying to reassure Stacy, his voice a gravelly whisper.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s going to be okay. Jimmy will be fine, I know he will.\u201d<\/p>\n
Billy wanted to call bullshit on him, to ask how he knew Jimmy would be fine. He wasn\u2019t a doctor. But when he opened his eyes he saw Walt hunched over in his chair, face buried in his hands. Stacy\u2019s hand was on his back mixing small circular motions and gentle pats, like he had seen her do with the boys.<\/p>\n
The double doors on the other side of the nurses\u2019 station opened and a man in green scrubs emerged holding a metal clipboard. He paused at the station long enough to hand it to a nurse, then continued to where the three of them sat.<\/p>\n
\u201cMs. Henderson?\u201d<\/p>\n
It still rankled Billy that Stacy had taken her maiden name back after the divorce. Not the change, but the anger with which she had made it. During one of their last arguments before the divorce was final she told him he could keep his fucking name, she was giving it back to him.<\/p>\n
Stacy stood. \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
Billy rose quickly. \u201cI\u2019m the father,\u201d he said. \u201cBilly Pearson.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDr. Chada.\u201d He extended his hand to Billy.<\/p>\n
Walt stood with some difficulty. Stacy put a hand under his elbow.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour son had a deep cut to his forehead which required a few stitches, and a fracture to his right wrist, which we\u2019ve casted for now. The more serious concern is the blow to the head which resulted in a concussion and some swelling of the brain. That is why we induced the coma. It will help his brain to heal.\u201d<\/p>\n
Billy felt a rush of anger. He looked at Stacy who continued to face Dr. Chada. Next to her Walt was nodding his head gravely, like he was being consulted or something, as if he had any more of a clue what was happening than Billy did.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan we see him?\u201d Stacy asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course,\u201d Dr. Chada replied, then lifted a long-fingered hand. \u201cBut I want you to be prepared. Your son is on a respirator to help him breathe. It is standard procedure, but it can look alarming, worse than it is.\u201d<\/p>\n
They followed him to the room, Stacy and her father walking side by side, Billy trailing. Dr. Chada pushed open the door and held it for them. Billy met his eyes as he entered and nodded thanks.<\/p>\n
Stacy stood over the bed, holding Jimmy\u2019s small hand in both of hers. Walt was next to her. Billy stopped at the foot of the bed. Jimmy\u2019s body was sunk into white sheets and pillows and surrounded by pale plastic tubing, as if caught in a medical spider web.<\/p>\n
Billy stared at his son for a moment, then muttered \u201cExcuse me,\u201d and left.<\/p>\n
Stacy found him sitting on a bench outside the emergency room entrance.<\/p>\n
\u201cSorry for running out. I needed some air.\u201d<\/p>\n
Stacy nodded, took a seat next to him.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid the doctor say anything more?\u201d Billy asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot really. Jimmy just needs to rest, give his brain time to heal.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow long?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDr. Chada said a day, maybe two. They have to see how he does.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour dad still up there?\u201d<\/p>\n
She shook her head. \u201cNo, he went home to be with mom and Stevie. He was pretty exhausted.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you going home?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe you should. Get some sleep. There\u2019s nothing you can do…\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not going home, Billy, okay?\u201d Her exasperated tone had a tremulous edge. Billy could tell she was trying not to cry. When they used to argue, no matter how angry he was, hearing that quaver got to him, backed him down.<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay. I was just saying.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI just came down to make sure you were all right.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked at her to see if she had really been worried about him or was just being nice. Her expression was blank, weary.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
She nodded. \u201cI\u2019m going back up.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid the doctor ask you before they induced the coma?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, of course.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBeen nice if you\u2019d called me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI did call.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTo tell me he was in the hospital. Not to ask me about inducing a coma. Jimmy\u2019s my son, too, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know he is,\u201d she said. \u201cI called twice, Billy. Not that I had to. I have custody and it was an emergency and it isn\u2019t like either one of us was going to argue with the doctor. But I did call. Check your phone.\u201d<\/p>\n
He didn\u2019t need to check. He\u2019d ignored the first call, hadn\u2019t even looked at his phone vibrating on the nightstand, keeping his eyes on Deborah who was already under the covers. \u201cThey\u2019ll call back,\u201d he\u2019d said as he slipped in next to her.<\/p>\n
Billy said nothing and after a moment, Stacy stood and went back inside.<\/p>\n
He returned to the house at 6:00 in the morning to shower and shave. Jimmy\u2019s condition hadn\u2019t changed. From the front door he got as far as the sofa, where he sat, put his feet on the coffee table and dozed. The doorbell woke him. He checked his watch: 6:40.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry, I know it\u2019s early, but I saw your truck.\u201d Peggy, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, stood with her arms folded across her chest. She was shorter than Deborah, with flecks of gray in her hair and crinkles at the corners of her eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome in.\u201d<\/p>\n
She shook her head. \u201cThat\u2019s okay. I just wanted to know how Jimmy is, and Stacy.\u201d<\/p>\n
Billy nodded. \u201cWell, okay, I think. Jimmy had a fall, cracked his head pretty good. A concussion. He\u2019s in a coma.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh Jesus.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, no, it\u2019s not as bad as you think. They induced it, you know, to help with the swelling, help his brain heal.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow long will they keep him in the coma?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnother day or two. We\u2019re talking to the doctor later this morning.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow\u2019s Stacy doing?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPretty good. She\u2019s holding up.\u201d<\/p>\n
Peggy regarded him for a moment. \u201cAnd you?\u201d<\/p>\n
Billy shrugged. \u201cI\u2019m fine. Tired.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHave you eaten anything?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot yet. I dozed off.\u201d<\/p>\n
Peggy bobbed her head in slow, contemplative nods. \u201cI can make you some breakfast.\u201d<\/p>\n
He sipped coffee at the kitchen table while Peggy stood at the stove with her back to him, frying bacon and eggs. They were silent, the only sound the sizzle of bacon grease. He watched the movement of her arms as she turned the bacon, the tilt of her hips when she shifted her weight. When she was finished, she switched off the burner, deftly transferred the eggs and bacon to a plate which she set before him.<\/p>\n
\u201cThanks.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re welcome.\u201d She took her coffee mug from the counter and sat.<\/p>\n
Billy didn\u2019t realize how hungry he was until he started to eat. He finished quickly, biting off half a strip of bacon at a time, scooping glops of egg by the forkful. When he glanced up, Peggy was staring at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cSorry,\u201d he said. \u201cI was pretty hungry.\u201d<\/p>\n
Peggy offered a slight shrug. \u201cI guess I should be flattered.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was really nice of you, I appreciate it.\u201d<\/p>\n
She nodded, sipped her coffee.<\/p>\n
\u201cI probably just would have had some cereal or a granola bar, something easy.\u201d<\/p>\n
She let out sudden, short laugh.<\/p>\n
\u201cJesus, Billy, you fucked my sister.\u201d<\/p>\n
Billy wrapped his hands around his coffee mug, stared at the streaks of yellow on his plate, like the crayon drawings of the sunrays Jimmy used to make. He made dozens of them, for awhile it seemed like the only thing he would draw. Billy hunched over the table, raised his eyes to meet Peggy\u2019s.<\/p>\n
\u201cMore like we fucked each other, as in two adults doing what they want.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy sister, Billy, okay? Deborah is my sister.\u201d<\/p>\n
She stared at him, her head bobbing in the same slow nod as before. For a moment, Billy thought she was going to start crying and his stomach clenched.<\/p>\n
\u201cLook,\u201d he said softly, \u201cI\u2019m sorry if it upset you. It just happened.\u201d<\/p>\n
She rose from her chair, placed her coffee mug in the sink and turned to him. \u201cIt always does, right, Billy?\u201d And then she left by the back door.<\/p>\n
He showered and shaved, put on fresh clothes and gathered his wallet and keys. He and Stacy were meeting Dr. Chada at 10:00. In the living-room he saw the rays of sun slicing through the window shades and thought of Jimmy sitting on the floor making his drawings.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe only draws the rays,\u201d Stacy had said to him once. They were curled next to each other in bed. She started to cry. He asked her what it was, but she shook her head and burrowed closer to him. Billy remembered how he had kissed the side of her neck and cupped a hand over her breast, and when she didn\u2019t draw away, the rush of excitement and relief he had felt, thinking that whatever it was, it wasn\u2019t his fault.<\/p>\n
He met Stacy in the hospital cafeteria. Like Billy, she\u2019d gone home long enough to shower and change. There were circles under her eyes as if she had applied eye shadow there instead of her eyelids, but even so, she looked good. She\u2019d lost weight. Billy took a seat on the other side of the pale green Formica table where she sat with a Styrofoam cup of coffee.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you eat?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
She shook her head.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan I get you something?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo thanks.\u201d She offered him a wan smile, her expression softer, Billy thought, than it had been the night before. \u201cYou can get something,\u201d she said. \u201cThere\u2019s enough time before we meet Dr. Chada.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m okay.\u201d Without thinking he almost added, \u201cPeggy made me some eggs,\u201d but caught himself. Mention of another woman was likely to set things off.<\/p>\n
Stacy nodded, sipped her coffee.<\/p>\n
\u201cAny good?\u201d<\/p>\n
She shrugged. \u201cIt\u2019s caffeine.\u201d She took out her phone and started to scroll through messages and email. He watched her long, delicate fingers slide the screen up and sideways, work the keyboard.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow\u2019s Stevie?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay. Mom and dad are watching him.\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded. \u201cYour dad all right?\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked up from her phone.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat? I can\u2019t ask about my father-in-law?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEx.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhatever.\u201d<\/p>\n
She regarded him a moment longer. \u201cHe\u2019s fine.\u201d<\/p>\n
He asked if she wanted more coffee and she shook her head. When he returned from buying himself a cup, she set her phone down.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you think it was my fault?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat? No.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI should have helped Stevie so dad could go outside with Jimmy,\u201d she said. \u201cI shouldn\u2019t have let Jimmy go out on that porch alone.\u201d She started crying, hand over her mouth, shoulders lifting up and down in rhythm with the sobs that rose silently from her. Her face was deep red and Billy feared she wasn\u2019t breathing. He reached across the table to hold her hand but she pulled it away, drew a sudden breath as if she had been underwater too long, then composed herself as quickly as she had broken down.<\/p>\n
\u201cSorry,\u201d she said, wiping her eyes with a tissue dug out of her purse. \u201cNow I\u2019ll look like shit just in time to meet with Dr. Chada.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou look fine. Better than fine.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRight.\u201d She blew her nose, then took her coffee cup and tissue to the trash can in the center of the cafeteria.<\/p>\n
\u201cStacy,\u201d he said when she returned.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes?\u201d She gathered her purse, slipped the strap over her shoulder.<\/p>\n
He smiled awkwardly. Once he had known just what to say to make things easy between them. Now he searched for words while she waited, staring at him with an expression that betrayed nothing.<\/p>\n
\u201cI think Jimmy will be okay,\u201d he finally said. \u201cThat\u2019s all. Everything will be fine.\u201d<\/p>\n
She nodded, and Billy felt the emptiness of his words hang between them. Then she turned and walked out of the cafeteria. After a moment, Billy followed.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Billy didn\u2019t answer the first call, but the second time his cell phone vibrated on the night stand, he reached for it, pushed himself into a sitting position and answered. The room was dark except for a slat of gray light where the curtain fell open slightly, like a loosened bathrobe. Deborah leaned across and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":15220,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[1677,1386,1906,1907],"class_list":["post-15161","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","tag-boys","tag-divorce","tag-injured-child","tag-regret","writer-david-c-metz"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15161","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=15161"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15161\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":15222,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15161\/revisions\/15222"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/15220"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=15161"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=15161"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=15161"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}