The taxi driver drops us off in the valet area of the hospital emergency room. The main door to the facility is closed this early in the morning. After checking in at the triage station, we’re escorted to a curtained-off area in the intensive care unit. The beds are lined up in a row, each with several machines surrounding it. Short drapes hanging from tracks on the ceiling divide one patient off from another.
“Do you want me to wait outside?” I ask Sam.
He takes me by the hand. “No. Stay.” He pauses and looks down at me. “Unless this is too much for you. I’ll understand if it is.”
I shake my head and squeeze his fingers a little. “No. I’m cool. I’m good. I help Rose with emergencies at her clinic all the time. I’m used to it.” I’m saying this as much for my benefit as his, because I am very nervous. This isn’t at all like taking care of dogs, cats, or owls. The smell of disinfectant and sick people is very strong. It doesn’t turn my stomach, but it does make my blood pressure go up.
I’m so worried for Madison and Sam . . . and Sadie, too, of course. She’s not here, and she has no idea what’s going on. She’s safely ensconced with one of Sam’s friends who has two children that play with her often. She’s probably sleeping away with a little smile on her face, dreaming of her daddy and his big, fluffy beard.
A nurse is standing at the foot of Madison’s bed talking to Sam. She’s murmuring, trying to maintain Madison’s privacy. Even though I’ve detached myself from Sam’s grasp and taken a step back, I’m still catching bits of what she’s saying.
“She’s peaceful now . . . it’s all we can do for her . . .”
I catch a glimpse of Madison’s arm above the covers. She’s bone thin, and her skin is covered in red streaks that I think are from needles and the drugs they delivered into her body. I swallow with difficulty. As I step closer, her face comes into view. She’s been intubated, but it doesn’t hide the fact that this girl was very, very sick before she got here, long before she overdosed. She looks like a skeleton, her eyes sunken in and her lips gray. Her hair is greasy and stuck together in bunches; it looks like she hasn’t seen a shower or a brush in weeks.
I stare at Sam in shock. How could he have left her like this? He said he took off from LA early because there was stuff going down, but it looks more like he abandoned Madison, left her behind when she obviously wasn’t in any condition to be alone. This doesn’t align at all with the image I had of him just thirty seconds ago.
A small female doctor in surgical scrubs walks over and shakes Sam’s hand. “I assume you’re Sam Stanz.”
Sam nods.
“You’re named as Madison’s next of kin on her papers, and apparently you’re the only one the hospital was able to identify as being family.”
“Yeah. She doesn’t have anyone else. Her parents both passed a while back, and her one brother died overseas last year.”
“We’ve got her on a ventilator now, but things aren’t good. She has no brain activity, and we don’t expect her to gain any back. This is the end for her. We just need your permission to turn the ventilator off and let her go.”
My jaw drops open in shock. Does this woman have zero bedside manner or what? “How can you say that?” I blurt out, without waiting for Sam to respond. “Just say it like that. Gosh, you didn’t even introduce yourself first.”
The woman looks over at me and shrugs. “I’m sorry, but I think you can see from her condition . . . I assume this is no surprise to you, Sam. She’s been sick for a long time.”
I feel like I’ve suddenly inherited Amber’s gene for raising hell. I can’t wait for Sam to respond. He looks too shell-shocked to do it, so I jump in again. “Maybe she doesn’t look so great, sure”—I gesture at Madison’s sad body—“but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t treat her and Sam with some basic dignity.” I wouldn’t be surprised if steam started coming out of my ears, I’m that hot under the collar.
Sam lifts his hand and puts it on my shoulder briefly. “Let it go, babe. It’s okay.”
My heart flips at the endearment, but the effect lasts only for a split second. This seems all kinds of wrong to me, but Sam wants me to stop, and it’s not my place to raise a fuss here. I take a deep breath in and out as I focus on Madison. She looks like death warmed over, and this woman standing next to us is a medical professional, even if she has a crappy bedside manner. Maybe the best thing for Sam is to hear the cold, hard truth.
“Can I spend some time with her first?” Sam asks. “Before we . . . pull the plug.” His voice chokes on the last bit.
“Sure. Take all the time you need.” The doctor starts to walk away, but then she stops and turns around. “I’m sorry for your loss. It can’t have been easy, trying to help her.”
Sam shakes his head. I’m going to go ahead and let this doctor walk away without any more fuss from me, because at least she had a little bit of empathy in the end. She’s right, too. It could not have been easy to live with Madison. Is that why Sam left early? Maybe it wasn’t just about getting the work with the band done faster. He’s only human; maybe he just couldn’t take it anymore. I’ve never watched someone I love kill herself slowly like he has. I probably shouldn’t be so quick to judge. I hear my mothers’ voices in my head telling me that I can never understand another person’s trials and tribulations until I’ve walked a mile in his shoes. It sure looks like Sam’s shoes have been to some scary, sad places.
I have so many questions that I want to ask him. There’s too much mystery here. But all of that has to wait, because the important thing right now is for Sam to be able to spend some time with Madison before he has to make the awful decision to allow her to end her life.
There’s one chair next to the bed, and Sam sits in it. I stand awkwardly near Madison’s feet for a few moments, wondering what I should do. Sam has forgotten that I exist. He’s resting his hand on hers, crying as he stares at her face.
I know he needs this private moment with her, so I step away. On either side of me, though, are other patients. One of them has a nurse tending to her, and the other has family nearby. So I stay just beyond the curtain, ten inches away from Madison’s left foot. Being in this position, I can’t help but overhear the conversation Sam has with her.
“Hi, Maddy. It’s me . . . Sam. The guy with the ugly beard.”
I smile through the tears that start pouring out of my eyes. I try my best to wipe them away, but more and more come.
His voice is raw with emotion. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you. You disappeared and I didn’t know where you went. When I went to the cops, they wouldn’t look for you. You know how they are. You know they got tired of looking for you a long time ago.”
I can’t imagine the heartache he must’ve had to bear, wondering where she was, knowing he had a daughter to take care of and a future to secure at the same time. I could imagine he thought he’d go to New York and get the work done quicker than planned so he could get back to LA and try to find her, get her some help. Or maybe I’m just believing that story because I want him to be a good guy and not the kind of man who would leave a woman like Madison out in the cold.
“Sadie is okay. I made sure she was far away from Drake so he couldn’t find her. And I left town, so he wouldn’t go looking for me. Everybody you care about is safe, and I promise we’re going to stay that way. We’re not sticking around LA, okay? I’m going to find a nice place for Sadie to grow up. I promised you I’d take care of her before she was born, and I’m not going to go back on that promise ever. Daddy for life.”
My heart is beating rapidly and I feel sick to my stomach. This man has a heart of gold, yes, but he has people after him? What does that mean for him? For Sadie? For me and my sister Amber? Are we in danger?
“The doctor told me you’re already gone,” Sam says after a long pause. He sniffs loudly before continuing. “You and I used to talk about people in comas being able to hear people talk around them, remember? I guess you’re not in a coma, but if you can h
ear me, I just . . . I just want to tell you that I’m sorry . . .” His voice breaks, but he keeps talking as he cries. “I’m sorry that I could never get you out of that hole you were in. I really wanted you to wake up these past few years and open your eyes so that you could see how much love everyone had for you.” His voice lowers and he sniffs. “But I know what your dad did broke something inside you that could never heal.” I think he’s done but then he talks again, softer this time. I can barely make out the words. “I’m always going to wonder if I tried hard enough to heal it for you, to help you heal yourself.” There’s a long silence before he finishes. “I’m never going to know, am I?”
I have to cover my mouth to keep from weeping out loud. I’ve never actually felt my heart breaking for another person before; it’s incredibly painful.
Sam’s voice is barely there. “The doctor says I have say when to turn off this machine that’s keeping you breathing. But I don’t think I can do it. I don’t think I can be the one to decide that you don’t get to breathe anymore.” His voice wavers. “Could you give me a sign, Maddy? Can you tell me what to do? You were always so bossy. I’ve got to believe that even on your way up to heaven, you could manage to tell me what to do.”
Oh, how I wish I had met Madison while she was still alive. I think I would’ve liked her. I’m so caught up in the emotion of the moment, I don’t see the nurse moving out of the cubicle next to me. She turns around in a hurry and immediately starts running, slamming right into me. I scream, throwing my arms out to stop my fall, but she was going at a fast clip and she’s a big girl, so there’s no hope of me not making a grand entrance into Madison’s cubicle.
The curtain flies up in my face and then slides across my cheek as the world turns sideways, and suddenly, I’m with Sam and Madison. And I’m tripping. A goofy sound flies out of my mouth.
“Whooo hooooo-oooo!”
I land across Madison’s legs, grabbing the rail on the opposite side of her bed to keep myself from falling to the floor. When I finally stop moving, I’m lying there prone across her legs, hanging on to the metal railing for dear life, my mouth wide open as I stare at Sam’s surprised face.
Holy shit! Could I be any more disrespectful of the dying?! No, I could not! I want to look away, but instead I cringe with a huge apology in my eyes. “Oh my god, Sam. I am so sorry.”
Sam is astonished at first, but then he smiles. And then he laughs. His face is gaunt with sorrow and his cheeks are wet with tears, but he is laughing so hard he’s having a hard time breathing. He picks up Madison’s hand and holds it against his cheek as he slowly calms down. I straighten myself and get to my feet, and he speaks to the mother of his child.
“Okay, girl. I hear you loud and clear. Consider it a done deal.” He leans over and kisses her on the cheek and then stands, slowly placing her hand on her chest.
In the meantime, I do my best to smooth down her covers and then my skirt. Holy shit. I have been alive for twenty-five years, and I can remember every humiliating moment that has ever occurred in my lifetime, and I can safely say that not one of them even comes close to this one. My face is on fire with embarrassment. Sam is going to hate me.
Sam comes walking over to me and places his hand on my shoulder. I can’t look at him.
“Thank you.”
I can’t believe I just heard those words coming from his mouth. I look up at him. “Excuse me?”
He takes my face in his hands very gently and looks deep into my eyes. His are still wet with tears, but I swear I can see joy radiating from his face. “Thank you for allowing Madison to communicate through you to me.”
“Uhhh . . . you’re welcome?” I’m pretty sure he’s having a psychotic break right now, due to his grief and all, but I’m not going to mess up the moment for him. We can talk to the doctor about psychiatric counseling after.
He leans forward and kisses me on the forehead before pulling back. “I need to go find the doctor.” He leaves me standing there at Madison’s feet. I swallow and look around. All I can hear is the whooshing of air going into her body and the beeping that indicates her heart is still beating.
I walk over closer to her head, curious what she looked like when she wasn’t destroying her body with drugs. I think I can see hints of Sadie’s beautiful face in hers. The bone structure is there . . . easy to see as her skin sinks even farther in to reveal the skull beneath. The evidence is clear that she has no life left in her. Such a terrible tragedy. I wish there was something I could do . . . or say . . .
I’m seized by the desire to try to talk to her before anyone comes back. Maybe Sam was right; maybe a person on her deathbed can hear what people nearby are saying. Maybe Madison hasn’t left this realm yet.
“Sam is a really great guy,” I say, whispering by her ear. “But you know that already, of course. He’s going to take great care of Sadie. And if he lets me, I’m going to be his friend.” I don’t want to make this woman any promises I can’t keep. I wish I could tell her that I’m going to look out for them, that I’m going to help Sam get over his fear of performing in public, but I can’t do that. I think those things may be beyond me. And I still need to know why he left her and his daughter. Does he think he was doing the best thing he could for them, or was he chickening out, leaving Madison to fend for herself because he was too shallow to get involved, and leaving Sadie in the care of some random woman? Until I know for sure, I cannot risk my own world to try to fix his.
I sigh as I sit down in the chair next to Madison. “I wish I had known you. I think if you were a friend of Sam’s, you must’ve been pretty special.” I pause, thinking about Sam and his issues. I guess Madison failed him as much as he failed her. “Maybe you could have told me why he can’t play his music in front of people he doesn’t know. Maybe together we could’ve helped him.”
There’s no sign whatsoever that she’s hearing me. And talking to a person on a ventilator who’s taking her last breaths should be a simple matter, but it’s exhausting. I don’t want to do the wrong thing. I want to be respectful. I stand, done trying to figure out Sam’s secrets by talking to Madison. The sound of voices coming from behind me causes me to move back away from her bed a little more. The doctor is back with Sam.
Sam comes over to be next to me, putting his arm across my shoulders.
“As I said earlier,” the doctor prompts, “my advice is that we turn off the ventilator. The question is whether any of her organs are viable for donation, something we have to determine before we do that. Looking at the medical records on her that we have access to, I have a feeling she’s in pretty bad shape, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t something she could do to help someone else.”
Sam nods. “She’s been a heroin addict for a long time.”
“Okay. Well, be that as it may, if it was her wish to be an organ donor, we’ll do what we can.”
“It was her wish,” Sam says. “We talked about it.”
“Great. I’m going to call the harvesting team in to do an evaluation. We’ll keep the ventilator going until they’ve done what they need to do, as long as you give us your permission to do that.”
Sam nods.
“Fine. Somebody from administration will be here very soon with paperwork for you. You can either wait here with Madison or you can step outside; it’s your choice.” The doctor walks away and stops at a cubicle a couple beds down.
I touch Sam’s arm to get his attention. “Why don’t you stay with her, and I’ll go wait outside?”
He nods and takes a seat at her bedside without a word.
I leave him alone and go out into the waiting room. Pulling my phone from my purse, I stare at the screen. I need to call my sister and talk to her about what’s going on, but I also need to keep Sam’s confidence. How on earth did my life suddenly get so incredibly complicated? I just met this man eighteen hours ago!
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I fret over what I’m going to say to Amber, but there’s no point. She doe
sn’t answer her phone; my call goes right into her voice mail. She’s probably over the middle of the ocean or maybe stuck in transit somewhere. I rest my head against the wall in the waiting room, and then it feels like a moment later somebody is touching my shoulder and shaking me gently.
I open my eyes to find Sam standing over me.
“Did you get some sleep?” His smile is weak.
“I don’t know. It feels like I just closed my eyes two seconds ago.” I look at my phone and see that two hours have passed.
“Everything’s over.” Sam jams his hands into his front pockets and folds his shoulders inward. He stares at the toes of his boots. “Madison passed away.”
I get to my feet and hold him tightly. “I’m so sorry, Sam. I know this is really hard for you.”
“Yeah.” His body is stiff, but I don’t let go. We stand there for a long time. Eventually, his shoulders and back soften and his hands come out of his pockets. Then I feel his arms go around me and I slide mine up to be around his neck. I hold him tighter. “You’re going to get through this, I promise.”
He gives me one last squeeze and then releases me. We step away from each other, an awkwardness slipping in to steal the moment away from us. This is a different Sam standing before me. He’s been stripped bare, shy and unsure of himself.
I can’t let this happen to him. I move to stand next to him and lace my arm through his. “Why don’t we go find some breakfast somewhere and then figure out what we’re going to do next?”
“Good idea.”
He lets me guide him out of the hospital and across the street to a café. He gets coffee and I get tea. I order a muffin and he gets a bagel with cream cheese. We take the corner table and sit with our backs to the crowd.
We eat in silence. I’m not going to push for conversation. He looks like he’s been put through a wringer. His eyes are swollen and red rimmed, his shirt wrinkled and stained, his pants barely hanging on to his waist. He slowly chews his bagel, staring at the crumbs it leaves behind on the table.