| Part Forty-Two |
 |
| Cassy threw back the covers and sat on the edge of her bed. She reached over to switch her alarm clock to the 'off' position, wondering why she even bothered to set it anymore. It had been yet another restless night, filled with the same old nightmares that left her unable to fall back to sleep. Her hand automatically grabbed the phone and dialed the hospital. She sighed in frustration as she waited for the automated system to prompt her to dial her party's extension. She jabbed at the buttons just a little harder than necessary when the instruction finally came. After three rings, an unfamiliar voice answered. "ICU, this is Kara."
"Hello, I'd like to know how Sergeant Ryan is doing. My name is Cassandra St. John. I�m his partner." There was a long pause before the nurse spoke. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I can't give you any information." Cassy was livid. "What? Why not?" "It's hospital policy. Only immediate family�" The detective was in no mood for bureaucratic bull and quickly cut off the explanation. "Whatever. Just let me talk to Wendy." Kara was polite, but firm. "I'm sorry, Wendy isn't here today. Is there anything else I can do for you?" By this time, Cassy was finding it difficult to keep her temper in check. "I don�t suppose Dr. Morris is there yet?" "No, ma'am." The cop took a deep breath to calm herself. "Look, don't you have a list of approved people or something? I've called in numerous times since they brought Tom in a couple of days ago and I haven't had any problem getting updates before." Kara wasn't budging. "No, ma'am. I'm sorry, but hospital policy�" Cassy again cut her off. "Fine! Then ask Margaret or Lyam, his parents. They'll vouch for me. I'm sure one of them is with him, right?" "I can't do that, ma'am. I'm sorry, but hospital policy�" "Argh!" Cassy screamed in frustration as she disconnected the call. She slammed the handset down on her nightstand and immediately her alarm clock started beeping. "Damn it, I already turned you off!" She snatched up the offending instrument and flung it across the room, uncaring that the cord sent the lamp and phone crashing to the floor in the process. Her anger quickly abated and a loud groan accompanied her evaluation of the damage. The shade and bulb of the lamp were definitely beyond repair, but the base appeared salvageable. The handset was also broken and a new phone went on the mental shopping list along with the new alarm clock. The old one lay near the door in several pieces. Heaving a sigh of resignation, she decided she'd clean up the mess after a quick shower and made her way to the bathroom. Then she was going to the hospital to see her partner, and God help Nurse Kara if she uttered the words "hospital policy" anywhere even remotely close to Cassy's vicinity. ************************************** Lyam Ryan surveyed the food-covered counter with a deep sense of satisfaction. The oven timer sounded, signaling the readiness of the finishing touch of the hearty breakfast he'd prepared. He removed the biscuit-laden tray and set it aside to cool. The previous day's conversation in the parking lot drifted through his mind. "Cooking up a storm isn't going to solve anything in the long run." He smiled smugly as he looked around for the container he'd set aside for the biscuits. 'How wrong you were, Harry, my man. How wrong you were.' A knock at the door sounded just as he finished scooping the last bun from the tray. Lyam quickly wiped his hands and checked his watch. He shook his head and smiled as he headed for the door. 'Ha! Knew they'd be early.' He'd received numerous phone calls the previous evening thanking him for the food he'd sent to Tom's co-workers and he'd invited each and every caller over the following morning for a meal in return. His visitor knocked again, apparently impatient to get their hands on his latest culinary endeavors. "Just a second, I'm coming!" he returned with equal impatience. As his hand hit the doorknob, a third knock came. Rapidly preparing a scathing admonishment, he jerked the door open. "Are you deaf or something? I said I was com�" His irritation instantly vanished when he finally comprehended who was standing on the doorstep. "Cassy! I wasn't expecting to see you here this morning. Come on in, there's plenty here and it's all ready." He motioned her inside with a big smile. Cassy hesitantly stepped inside, though she didn't return his smile. Lyam didn't seem to notice as he closed the door and headed over to the kitchen area. "Coffee?" he asked as he grabbed a mug. When Cassy nodded, but didn't speak, Lyam finally looked at her more closely. Fear nearly overwhelmed him and he rushed over to her, thoughts of coffee and food quickly forgotten. "Cass, what's wrong? Is it Tommy? Has something happened? Why didn't they call me?" His panic finally broke Cassy's silence. "No! Nothing has happened to Tom, Lyam. He's fine, I'm sure." He took her hands in his and searched her eyes for the truth, but wasn't entirely satisfied with what he saw. "You're sure he's okay?" She sighed heavily before answering. "Yes, I'm sure. I couldn't get any information when I called a little while ago, but I know without a doubt that Margaret would have called you the minute anything changed." He took a deep breath, finally able to calm himself as he recognized the truth in her words. "You're right. You're right, Maggie would have called me. I�m sorry I overreacted." He gave her hands a quick squeeze. "Okay, so it's not Tommy, but something is definitely bothering you. Want to tell me about it over coffee?" She looked down and shrugged, returning to her earlier silent behavior. Lyam wasn't going to be put off. "I'll take that as a yes," he insisted. "Have a seat while I finish the coffee." He directed her to the sofa and returned to his task in the kitchen. He'd just started over to her with mugs in hand, when another knock came at the door. Cassy looked up in surprise and stood. "You were expecting someone," she stated as she finally noticed just how much food there was on the counter. "I should go." "No!" Lyam was quick to dissuade her. "It's just a few of your co-workers come by for breakfast. I'll hurry them through and then we can chat. Promise me you wont leave until we've talked," he demanded. She reluctantly nodded as he handed her the coffee. As her host headed to the door to greet his guests, she sighed and braced herself for the inevitable round of small talk. Small talk which would most certainly include questions about her partner. Why hadn't she just gone straight to the hospital as she'd originally planned? **************************************** Tom sat on the floor of his tree house hugging his knees to his chest. He ignored the loud rumbling in his stomach just as he'd ignored his mother's calls to lunch several hours earlier. A car door slammed and he knew he'd soon be getting company. Tears welled in his eyes, but he quickly brushed them away. He was a man now, and everyone knew that real men didn't cry. The back door banged shut, signaling the imminent arrival of his guest. Moments later, his father's head appeared through the open trap door entrance. "Can I come up?" Tom shrugged, but didn't really answer. Lyam waited for more of a response, but when none was forthcoming, he tried again. "I thought you might be thirsty," he offered as he pulled a bag through and set it on the floor. "Mom said you missed lunch, so I brought us a little snack, too. Sugar cookies, fresh out of the oven." The younger Ryan sniffed loudly and wiped his nose with the palm of his hand. He said nothing, but moved over to make room for his father. Lyam frowned at his son's continued silence as he climbed the rest of the way up and settled in next to the boy. He grabbed the sack and pulled out two small thermoses, one of which he handed to Tom. After setting the other on the floor next to him, he again reached into the bag, this time producing a small plate of cookies wrapped in plastic. As if on cue, the boy's stomach rumbled loudly and Lyam smiled as he watched Tom try to look uninterested. With a slight shake of his head, the father quickly dispatched the wrapping and extended the plate to his son. Grudgingly, Tom reached forward and grabbed a cookie. Lyam took one for himself and set the plate between them. The pair ate in silence, and when the last crumb was consumed, Lyam finally spoke. "Wanna tell me about it?" Tom slowly replaced the cap on his thermos and wiped away his milk mustache. When he finally spoke, his voice was so soft that Lyam had to strain to hear. "Jimmy Shannon got back from his Grandma's this morning." Lyam's voice remained neutral. "I see." Tom fiddled with the empty thermos, not trusting himself to look at his father. "He says he's not my best friend anymore." Lyam placed his arm around Tom's shoulders and pulled him close. "I'm sure he just needs some time to adjust to things now that he's back home. Just try to be patient with him, okay?" The younger Ryan solemnly shook his head and finally turned to look at his father. "He says football is stupid and so are fire fighters. He says when he gets to school on Monday, he's going to ask Mrs. Jennings to let him move so he doesn't have to sit by me anymore." Tom's bottom lip quivered as he fought away the tears. "He says he hates me." Lyam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Jimmy doesn't really hate you, son. It's just that being around you reminds him of the things we all used to do together, the stuff that he used to do with his dad before�before the accident." Tom nodded and looked away, then turned back to gaze intently at his father. "Is it true what they say about Mr. Shannon? That it was his fault?" Lyam swallowed hard, but didn't look away. "Son, we never know what's going to happen when we go into a burning building. Because of that, we have certain procedures, certain ways, that we're supposed to do things. Now, I'm not going to lie to you. The investigators say that John didn't follow some of those procedures, and that it might have contributed to his death. But the truth is, we don't know that John wouldn't have died anyway, even if he had followed them." Tom looked deep into his father's eyes. When he was finally satisfied his dad had leveled with him, he threw himself into Lyam's arms. "Promise me you won't ever break the rules and go away like Jimmy's dad!" "I promise I won't, not ever." The voice belonged to his father, but somehow it seemed off. "You belong to me and I won't ever let you go, Tommy." Tom struggled to pull away. "No! No, that's not what you're supposed to say! This is wrong, it isn't supposed to happen like this!" The voice changed, his father's comforting tones morphing into something far more sinister and obscene. "Please don't be mad, Tommy. I have to do this for us. I have to." Tom struggled harder and finally succeeded in pulling back slightly. Instead of his father's loving smile, he found himself looking into the leering face of Dr. Gordon Leonard. He struggled harder as he screamed. "NO! Oh god, please, no! I can't do this again," he whimpered. ******************************** A very weary Margaret Ryan smiled in greeting as Frannie Lipschitz entered Tom's room. "How is our boy doing this morning?" Frannie softly inquired. Margaret's face brightened considerably as she answered. "Better. His fever has gone down considerably since they started the new antibiotic last evening. I think he's resting a bit easier now," she offered hopefully. "That's terrific news," Frannie responded. "Any word on when they might be moving him out of the ICU to a regular room?" Margaret shook her head. "Not really. Dr. Morris hasn't been in yet, but the night nurse seems to think it will be sometime today." With her concentration focused on the captain's wife, she didn't notice her son's fingers again begin to spasm. The whimper that followed quickly diverted her attention back to the man in the bed. She couldn't help the tears that formed as she moved to comfort him, but she managed to hold them at bay. "Sh, you're safe now, sweetie. You're in the hospital and you're getting better now. Everything is okay." She began to hum in attempt to quiet him, as before, but unlike before, this time he continued to whimper and mumble incoherently. His breathing was too harsh and too fast. She began to fear for his already weakened lung. Her tears fell freely as she ceased her tune and looked helplessly up at Frannie. Seeing that the exhausted mother was at the end of her rope, Frannie quickly moved to intervene. She stepped toward the bed and took Tom's hand in hers. "You're dreaming, Tom. You need to wake up now. It's only a bad dream. You're okay." Tom's muttering stopped at the sound of the new voice, but he was still breathing too fast. Slowly, his eyes opened and he sought out the source of the words. "What?" The captain's wife stepped closer, seeing that Margaret still needed a moment to pull herself together. She smiled affectionately at him as she spoke. "Hey, there. You need to try to calm down. You were having a bad dream." Tom frowned in confusion, but didn't look away. "Dream?" To their relief, his breathing was slowly returning to normal. Frannie squeezed his hand in encouragement. "Yes, you were having a bad dream, but you're okay. You're in the hospital, remember?" Tom looked away as he nodded slightly to affirm his understanding. His good eye quickly located his mother. "Mom?" Margaret took another deep breath and made a final swipe at her eyes before again moving closer. "Yes, honey. I�m here, too." She smiled lovingly down at him and took hold of his other hand. He studied his mother's face for several moments before speaking again. Despite the haze from the drugs in his system, he didn't miss the red-rimmed eyes or the dark circles underneath them and he knew he was the cause. "Sorry." Her smile vanished and she gazed at him with an intensity that was nearly overpowering. "Don't! Don't you even think that! You have absolutely nothing to feel sorry for, Thomas Patrick Ryan. I won't have you taking on guilt for something that wasn't in any way, shape, or form your doing." When he started to look away, her voice and expression softened. "You got that, mister?" He nodded, but avoided looking her in the eye again, and instead turned to the woman standing on the other side of his bed. "Harry?" Frannie looked briefly at Margaret before answering and noted the other woman wiping at her eyes again. With her attention firmly on the man before her, she smiled broadly. "Harry is fine. He had to be at the office early today, but he'll be stopping by later this afternoon. I decided to come by early and see if maybe I could keep you company while your mother gets some rest," she offered. His one visible eye shone with gratitude and squeezed her hand to emphasize the depth of his feelings. "Good," he returned with a slight grin. He then turned to his mom with a pleading look. "Please." Margaret's protest died on her lips and she found herself acquiescing instead. She smiled gratefully at Frannie before turning back to her son. "Well, okay then. I can take a hint. I know when I'm not wanted," she kidded, with an obviously fake pout and sniffle. She carefully placed a tender kiss on his forehead and smiled down at him. "I'll be back in a few hours," she reassured. Tom nodded and squeezed her hand in farewell. He watched her walk slowly to the door and managed a weak wave to her when she paused to look back. When she was finally out of sight, he closed his eyes and sighed, feeling guilty over her obvious distress despite her earlier admonishment. He'd forgotten he wasn't alone and was startled when Frannie pulled up a chair beside the bed. Her broad smile and cheery tone were a stark contrast to his mood. "So, tiger. Ready to talk?" Tom looked away. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, but he really didn't want to talk either. She quickly picked up on his reluctance and decided it wasn't the time to push him, not yet. "Aw, come on. Don't you want to hear all the office scuttlebutt you've been missing?" He turned back to her just in time to catch her nod eagerly and waggle her eyebrows. He snorted in amusement and shook his head. "Sure." He settled back into the pillows to listen as she related the latest gossip, fresh off the Palm Beach PD grapevine. Her voice was soothing and he soon found himself not really paying attention to her words. It wasn't long before his eyelids drifted shut and Tom Ryan was asleep once more. |
|
 |
 |
| Part 43 |