“You made my son happy. And nothing makes that boy happy. I don’t give a goddamn about any policy, pardon my language.”
I bite my lower lip to keep it from trembling, but it does anyway. My eyes fill with tears.
Konrad exhales heavily again, then stretches his neck and closes his eyes. “I’ve made so many mistakes with those boys. Especially Cole. He’s the hard-headed one, like his father.”
He’s lost in thought for a moment, then seems to shake it off, opening his eyes to stare at me with new energy.
“Do you care for him?”
My voice sounds very small in the stillness of the room. Small but full of conviction. “I love him.”
“He’s not an easy man to love.”
“I know.”
“He’s impatient and demanding.”
“I know.”
“He’s secretive too.”
“I know.”
“And he’s incredibly stubborn. I’ve never known another person as stubborn as him.”
Smiling through my tears, I say, “You do now.”
After a moment, a small smile lifts his lips. It fades quickly, and his demeanor turns brusque. “Good. You’ll need to be. Because if you’re serious about him, you’re in for a hell of a time.”
“I heard the doctors don’t think he’ll walk again. Is that true?”
He waves a hand dismissively. “Doctors think they know everything. They don’t. They don’t know Cole either. If you tell that boy something can’t be done, he’ll make sure he does it. What I mean was that he’ll give you a hell of a time. But don’t let him discourage you, Shay. You hang in there. If you really do care for him, hang in there, no matter how hard he tries to push you away.”
I’m getting all emotional, and I hate myself for it. My face is screwed up, and my voice comes out strangled. “Why would he push me away?”
“Because he thinks he doesn’t deserve love. I don’t know why, but he’s been looking for proof his whole life that he’s not worthy of good things.”
He stops for a moment, gazing down at his feet. His voice lower, he says, “Maybe I was too hard on him.”
I reach out and take his hand. He startles at the contact, but squeezes back when I tighten my fingers around his.
“He speaks very highly of you. Your wife too. He loves you both very much.”
I might as well have shot him through the heart for how his face crumbles hearing those words. He turns away, swallowing hard, and clears his throat.
When he’s composed himself, he says gruffly, “Thank you. Now I’ll let you rest. Get better soon, young lady.”
He pats my hand, then stiffly walks from the room.
I suspect he only held it together until he was around the corner.
I’m discharged the next morning. They send me home with pain medication and instructions to go to the ER immediately if I experience sudden headaches or balance problems. Everyone keeps telling me what a miracle it is that I survived such a catastrophic accident with only a few days in a medically-induced coma and some nasty bruising.
The driver of the other car didn’t fare so well. He broke both collar bones and six ribs, suffered a punctured lung and a ruptured spleen, and has lacerations all over his body. The nurse told me he’ll be there for a while.
When I asked him how long Cole would be there, a shake of his head was the only answer.
My mother stays with me at my apartment for a week. Dad stays at a hotel for a few nights, then returns home to Oregon and Chloe. Chelsea visits as often as possible, bringing food for me and cigarettes for my mother, who doesn’t drive because she lost her license years ago. Jen and Angel visit too, but the entire time I’m with anyone else, I’m thinking of Cole.
When I call the hospital and ask to be transferred to his room, the operator informs me she doesn’t show anyone admitted under that name.
There’s nothing on the news about the accident. There’s nothing in the papers. There’s nothing on the web.
The only place I find a mention of it is in the LAPD’s online traffic collision report, but when I return to look at it a day later, it has mysteriously disappeared.
Such is the power of owning the media and being besties with the chief of police.
As soon as the taxi taking my mother to the airport pulls away from the curb outside my apartment, I drive to the hospital and take the elevator to the ICU floor I was on with Cole. Not knowing what name he’s checked in under, I tell the nurse on duty that I’m here to see the patient in room nine.