Two: Disaster

Richie’s phone rang when he was somewhere over Texas.

“Bro, it’s me,” Jon said. “Tiff and I are at the hospital. Jennifer survived the crash.”

Richie turned into the window and let the tears finally track down his cheeks. He was so happy, so full of relief that it didn’t register that Jon was still talking. “What?” Richie said. “Man, I didn’t hear anything after she was still alive.”

Jon’s voice was serious. “Rich, it isn’t good,” he answered. “She was very badly hurt.”

“How hurt?” Richie asked; a buzzing starting at the base of his skull.

Jon hesitated, and the buzz became a roar. Through gritted teeth, Richie repeated, “How hurt, dammit?”

Jon sighed. He did not want to have this conversation, but a promise was a promise. “Rich, man, I’m sorry. The doctors say it’s touch and go. She suffered a lot of internal damage. Both her legs were crushed and had to be amputated, and man,” Jon sighed again. “She got burned in the fire.”

Richie gasped. “Sweet Mother of God. Is she – how bad is – fuck,” he said.

“I don’t know anything other than that right now. Mary Agnes is keeping vigil in her room now.”

“Who the fuck is Mary Agnes?” Richie asked.

Jon was surprised. “Her mother, Rich. Mary Agnes is her mother’s name. Didn’t you know that?”

Richie gave a dry laugh; a single, sad syllable. “Everyone calls her ‘Ma’. Guess it ‘s because those are her initials.” He was quiet for a minute. “Oh God, Jon, what if Jennifer dies before I get there?”

There was nothing Jon could say to that. He stayed on the phone with Richie until he heard the flight attendant tell everyone they were prepping for landing. Forty minutes later, he was meeting Richie in the lobby of Massachusetts General Hospital, enveloping him in a bone crushing hug.

“I’m so fucking sorry, man,” Jon said, his voice thick with emotion. “She’s up in ICU; her friend Krissy is with her now. Let’s go up, man. The rest of her family is up there.”

Richie’s face was blank the whole way up the elevator. When the doors swished open on the ICU floor, the unnatural quiet made his skin crawl. Doctors and nurses should be bustling. There should be sounds of people trying to save lives, not the sound of death.

When they rounded the corner to the family room that Jen’s parents had been given, Richie took a deep breath before pushing the door open. He saw Ma and John, huddled together on a sofa, crying softly. Jennifer’s brother John and his wife were standing in front of the window, staring sightlessly out at the crisp autumn afternoon, arms around each others’ waists. He saw Tiff, Gail, Cheryl, Stephanie, and a few of Jen’s other friends sitting in a corner talking quietly.

“Ma,” Richie croaked, and the room turned to look at him.

Mary Agnes rose from the comfort of her husband’s arms and crossed the room to take Richie’s hands. “Oh Richard, I’m so glad you made it,” she said, then broke down. “My poor baby,” she cried. “Her heart has stopped four times. Each time, it started up again on its own, she opened her eyes, and asked for you,” Ma said. “Go to her.” She hugged Richie close and sniffled back more tears. “We’ve already said our goodbyes.”

Richie went down the hall alone. Jon followed discreetly behind, knowing this was going to be hard for him, and he was going to need someone. As Richie got closer to the room where Jennifer lay, a nurse stopped him.

“I just wanted to explain a couple of procedural things to you,” the nurse said. “Typically, we only allow immediate family in to visit, and even then, only one person for a few minutes at a time. Due to Jennifer’s situation, we are making allowances.”

“You mean because her injuries are so severe?” The words caught in Richie’s throat.

“In a manner of speaking,” the nurse answered. “Jennifer has a DNR on file. Do you know what that is?”

Richie nodded, even as his heart seized in his chest. He knew that this meant that Jennifer didn’t want any heroic measures taken to revive her. The hospital didn’t know about it at the time of her admission, so they had taken care of her legs and what they could internally. Now that they know, however, they would keep her hydrated and give her means to suppress some of the pain, but the rest was up to fate.

Richie thanked the nurse, though he certainly didn’t mean it, and walked to the window that opened into Jen’s room and gasped. He saw Jennifer, or who he assumed was Jennifer, connected to all kinds of tubes, wires, and machines. Her head was bandaged heavily, as was her neck and one shoulder. Her undamaged right arm lay outside the blankets, a blood pressure cuff wound around it. A PulseOx monitor was attached to her forefinger, and he counted three IVs dripping into her. He scanned her form, and saw that the lump under the blankets stopped far short of where it should have. He wept for her.

Wiping his eyes roughly, he tried to put on a brave face, and pushed into the room. Krissy looked up and saw Jennifer’s newest visitor. She stood and gave Richie a hug. “I’m so sorry, Rich,” she said before leaving. Richie crossed to the bed, and sat by Jennifer’s side. Jon watched through the window as Richie took Jennifer’s hand in his and started talking to her.

“Hey baby, I’m here,” Richie said. “You know, if you wanted to stay in Boston, all you had to do was tell me. We would have worked something out.” He tried for a laugh, but it ended as a noise of pure grief. “Oh Jen,” he said. “I’m so sorry.” He put his head down next to Jennifer’s hand and cried.

Long minutes later, the hand Richie was holding started to twitch. Richie sat up. “Jen? Are you in there, baby? Can you hear me?”

Jennifer frowned at the voice, then smiled as she recognized it. She opened her eyes and turned them toward Richie. “Hey, you,” she said, then closed her eyes as a wave of pain washed over her. She took a deep breath then asked, “Aren’t you going to kiss me hello?”

Richie stood and carefully leaned over the bed, pressing his lips to hers. When he pulled back, he locked his eyes onto hers. “I love you,” he said to her, lightly rubbing her brow with a gentle fingertip.

“I love you too,” Jennifer said. She smiled and evil smile. “Guess I don’t have to worry about physical therapy for my knee anymore,” she said.

Richie laughed, the laughter bordering on hysteria. “Jennifer, that’s AWFUL! I can’t believe you said that.” His laughter tapered off to chuckles. “Do you hurt too much?” he asked softly.

Jennifer nodded. “It’s pretty bad, but I have a morphine drip if I need it. Did you get my message?” she asked.

“No, baby, I didn’t,” Richie said, confused.

Jennifer smiled. “I left you a message earlier. I said that whatever you wanted to ask me when I landed in LA, I’d say yes.”

Richie chuckled. “I figured you might,” he said. “In fact...”