“Lower your voice. The whole hospital doesn't have to know our business.”

“Why not? I assume everyone else does. Everyone at work must, they must all think you're pretty hot stuff, and you've probably run into at least some of the people we know while you were with her. I guess, as they say about these things, I was the last one to know.”

“I wish you had never known … or at least not the way it happened …”

“It could have happened anytime. Someone could have said something. Andy could have gotten hurt instead of Allie, when you were supposedly 'away,' or I could have gotten sick. Or I guess I could have just run into the two of you. But what exactly are you saying to me now? That this is just an affair? Last night you gave me the impression it was serious, and you had no desire to end it. Did I hear you wrong, am I crazy?”

She wanted to believe that she had misheard him, but another part of her suddenly knew that she would never feel the same about him again. The anger might go away one day, but she could never imagine trusting him again. And maybe after all was said and done, maybe by then, she wouldn't even love him. It was hard to know now, and all she could do was wonder about his intentions.

“You're not wrong,” he said, looking annoyed again. “I didn't say I would end it. But I think it's too soon for you to make a decision about us, and this is an impossible time, with all of this happening to Allie.”

“Oh, I see.” She began to steam again, but this time, she kept her voice down. “You don't want to stop seeing your little friend, but you just don't want me asking you to move out, or move out yourself, because this isn't a convenient time. I'm sorry, I hadn't understood that. No problem, Brad. Stay as long as you like. Just be sure you remember to invite me to the wedding.” There were tears stinging her eyes, and angry words on her lips, but they both knew they were not going to resolve the situation in the hallway outside ICU, where their daughter lay in a coma. There was too much going on, and this was far too explosive a situation.

“I think we just have to cool it for a while, and see what happens to Allie,” he said calmly. It was a reasonable suggestion, but Page was still too angry to hear it. “Besides, it would be too hard on Andy right now, if we did anything drastic.” It was the first really sensible thing he'd said, and Page had to nod in agreement.

“Yeah, I guess you're right.” And then she looked up at him, her eyes full of anguished questions. “So you just go on with …this thing …and we talk about it later, is that it?”

“More or less,” he said, squirming a little as he met her eyes. He knew he was asking a lot of her, and that in her shoes, he couldn't have done it. But he expected her to.

“Sounds like a pretty easy deal for you. And I turn the other way? Is that it?” Page asked, wondering how he could ask that of her.

“I don't know what to do, Page. You have to figure that out.” This time he said it almost harshly. He was not willing to jeopardize his relationship with Stephanie, and yet at the same time, he seemed to want to hang on to his marriage, at least until he had decided what exactly it was he wanted. It sounded like a sweet deal for him, and it made Page furious to be asked to agree to it. But right now, she had no choice and she knew it. She couldn't cope with separating from him, and Allie's accident, and Andy's reactions to all of it, not to mention her own. But no matter what she did, she knew that she would be thinking about what was coming at her in the future. And for the moment, none of it looked pleasant or easy.

“If you're asking me for permission, I'm not going to give it to you,” she said icily. “You have no right to expect that from me. You didn't have my permission before, and you did what you wanted. But I'm not going to make it easy for you now by saying it's fine with me. It's not. And sooner or later, you're going to have to live with the consequences of your actions.” In some ways, it was lucky for him that they had more important things to deal with right now, and he could get by without having to face what he had done to their marriage. But eventually, no matter what happened to Allie, they'd have to deal with it, and they both knew that. It was what was frightening Brad, and depressing Page, as they stood outside the ICU at Marin General.

He looked at her for a long moment, not sure what to say to her, and then glanced at his watch. He needed a reprieve desperately. This was all too much for him, the emotions were running too high, and the reality of it was terrifying. Their lives had changed in the blink of an eye, and he still hadn't fully absorbed all that had happened.

“We can talk about this some other time. I have to get back to the office.”

“Where will you be if I need you?” she said coldly. He was removing himself from her in every way he could, from Allie, from the hospital which was so upsetting to both of them, and from having to face her now that she knew about his affair. He was simply leaving, and going back to the office to hide …and to Stephanie, to console him. Page suddenly found herself wondering what she looked like.

“What do you mean, 'Where will I be'?” he said unpleasantly. “I just told you. At the office.”

“I just thought I'd ask, in case you wander off somewhere.” He knew exactly what she meant, and his face got red as he fought back a flash of embarrassment and anger. “If you do, leave a message at the desk in ICU as to where I can find you.”

“Obviously,” he said coldly.

She wanted to ask him if he'd be home that night, but suddenly she found she didn't want to ask him anything. She didn't want to hear the lies, didn't want to argue with him anymore, or insult him, or listen to the contempt and defensiveness in his voice. She felt totally drained by their conversation.

“I'll call you later,” he said, and sped away, as she watched him disappear down the hall. She felt so many things as she looked at him, angry, sad, confused, hurt, betrayed, furious …furious …frightened …and so lonely.

She went back to Allyson then, and at three o'clock she drove to Ross Grammar School to pick up Andy. It was a relief to follow her old routine again, to be with him, to be there for him, and take him to familiar places. She stayed with him all afternoon, and then dropped him off at Jane Gilson's for dinner. Brad was supposed to pick him up later, on his way home from the office.

“I'll see you in the morning,” she said, kissing him, grateful for the sweet smell of his flesh, the softness of his hair, the two little arms around her neck as he kissed her. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom. Kiss Allie for me.”

“I will, sweetheart.”

She thanked Jane Gilson again, who admonished her, as Trygve had, not to overdo it. “What do you think I ought to do?” Page asked irritably, “stay home and watch TV? How can I be anywhere else but there, given her condition?”

“I know, just be reasonable. Try not to wear yourself out completely.” But it was too late for that, and they all knew it. Page's engine was running on fumes, but she had no choice now. She had to be there for Allie.

She was back at the hospital by seven-fifteen. She sat with Allyson for as long as she could in ICU, and then she went to sit in the hallway. She sat in a stiff chair, and leaned her head against the wall with her eyes closed. She just sat there for a long time, waiting for them to let her come back in again. You weren't supposed to stay in ICU constantly, the staff had too much to do, and most of the patients were too sick to enjoy the visits.

“That looks uncomfortable,” she heard Trygve's voice in an undertone next to her, and she opened her eyes slowly and smiled to see him. She was exhausted by then, it had been an endless day, and Allyson had not improved or regained consciousness after the operation. They didn't really expect her to regain consciousness. But there were important signs they looked for to indicate further complications to the brain. Even though she was in a coma, they tested her constantly. And so far, things were no better. “How was your day?” he asked, as he sat down in the chair next to hers. His hadn't been easy either. Chloe was in a lot of pain, in spite of the medication.

“Not great.” And then she remembered the messages on her machine. They had used up the tape, and it amazed her. “Did you get as many calls from kids today as I did?”

“Probably.” He smiled. “A bunch of them came down here after school, but they wouldn't let them into ICU. I think a few of them tried to see Allie, too, but of course the nurses wouldn't let them.”

“It'll probably do them good …once they're better” …if …when … or maybe never. “Word must have traveled like wildfire at school.” And everyone was devastated about Phillip Chapman.

“One of the kids told me that some reporters showed up at school, to talk to the other kids about Phillip, about what kind of boy he was. He was a big star on the swimming team, got terrific grades, the perfect kid. I guess it makes it a better story.” He shook his head, thinking, as Page did, that either of their daughters could have died just as easily as Phillip.

There had been a big article in the paper that day, about the accident, with photographs, and stories about each of the four young people involved. The main focus of it of course had been on Laura Hutchinson, her devastation over the death of Phillip Chapman. She had refused an interview, but there was a lovely photograph of her, and several quotes from one of the Senator's aides. They had explained that Mrs. Hutchinson was far too upset about the whole event to make any official comment. As a mother herself, she understood only too well the grief of the Chapmans, and the anxieties of the parents of the injured children. The article essentially cleared her name, and without actually saying so, somehow managed to imply that while the young driver hadn't been legally drunk, the group had in fact been drinking. The feeling one got in the end was that the accident was Phillip's fault, although the writer never actually came right out and said it.

“It was very well done,” Trygve said quietly, as they talked. “They never actually accused him of being drunk, but they somehow managed to convey that impression, while saying of course that Mrs. Hutchinson is a mature, upstanding citizen, and an excellent mother. How could she possibly be responsible for the death of one boy, and the near death of three others?”

“You sound as though you don't believe them.” Page sounded worried. She didn't know what she believed anymore. The hospital had said clearly that Phillip was not drunk, and yet the accident had to be someone's fault, or maybe it really didn't matter. Knowing whose fault it was wouldn't whisk Allyson out of the ICU like magic, or repair Chloe's legs. It wouldn't change a thing. The only thing it might change was the eventual lawsuits, and Page couldn't even think about that now. The whole idea of suing someone wouldn't do the kids any good, or bring Phillip back to life. The idea of suing made her sick. It was all much too confusing.

“It's not that I don't believe them,” Trygve answered her, “it's that I know how reporters write. The innuendos, the lies, the way they cover themselves, or develop a story to coincide with their opinions. Political reporters do it all the time. They only report what works with the story they have in mind, and their point of view, or that of their paper, it's not necessarily the whole truth. It's designed to fit a preconceived picture. And that could be happening here. Also Hutchinson's aides were pushing a lot of propaganda to cover her and make her look good. Maybe it wasn't her fault, but it could have been, and they wanted to be damn sure she looked like Mrs. Goodie Two Shoes, Mrs. Perfect Mother and Driver.”

“Do you think it might have been her fault?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But it certainly could have been, just as much as it could have been Phillip's. I spoke to the highway patrol again, and they still maintain that the evidence is inconclusive. If anything, the cars seemed almost equally to blame. The only difference is that Phillip was a kid, he hadn't been driving as long as she had. Boys are assumed to be wild behind the wheel, but not all of them are. And from everything the kids have said, the Chapman boy was a very responsible guy. Jamie Applegate said he had half a glass of wine, and two cups of black coffee. I've driven on a lot more than that. Maybe I shouldn't have. But he was a big kid, half a glass of wine shouldn't have knocked him flat, not followed by two cups of coffee and then later, a cappuccino. But Mrs. Hutchinson said she didn't have a drink all night. So she was older, sober, better known, more respectable, more grown up, and without further evidence, Phillip somehow begins to look guilty. It isn't really fair. I think that's what bothers me. Kids always get a bad rap, even when they don't deserve it. It seems particularly unfair to his family. Why should he get blamed, if no one knows for sure whose fault it was?