Down the Hidden Path Page 10

  The officer glanced inside the car where David sat staring straight ahead. “A furniture truck struck Mr. Olson’s car.”

  Gray kept David tucked under her arm as the nurses and doctors made their way in and out of Angie’s room. Gray couldn’t see inside from their vantage point, but the rush of people and the intense concern on each face let her know the battle was just beginning for Angie.

  “We’re getting her cleaned up,” a nurse told Gray in a half whisper, as if David wouldn’t hear. She tilted her head to look David in the eye. “Your mom keeps asking for you. We’ll let you in soon, okay?”

  He jerked his head in a nod and found a seat in the corner to wait.

  The nurse turned her attention back to Gray and the officer who was still with her. “Officer Cummings.”

  “Ms. Bartlett.” He shook the woman’s hand as Gray realized they knew each other. From here, perhaps. Similar situations? What a horrifying thing to be unified by.

  “Officer, Mrs. Olson isn’t in any condition to talk to you right now, if that’s why you’re staying.”

  Gray just wanted to know Angie was going to be okay. “How is she?”

  “It’s very touch and go. She has a lot of internal damage. We’re taking her into surgery as soon as the radiologist has seen the rest of the X-rays. I’d like for David to get the chance to see her for a few minutes before we take her down. Do you think he’d be able to handle that?”

  Gray’s hesitation seemed to concern the nurse. How could anyone know the answer to a question like that? “He’s very strong, emotionally, but . . .” Her words trailed off.

  “Mrs. Olson has got a lot of bruising. She doesn’t look good.”

  “I want to see my mom.” It was David’s voice, strong at first, but breaking as he finished. His hands fidgeted at his sides, shoulders rising and falling and eyes straight ahead, as if they alone held the power to keep him upright.

  The nurse nodded and motioned for them to follow her. As they walked, with Officer Cummings in tow, David slipped his hand into Gray’s.

  They entered the room and the nurse slowly drew the curtain aside. For a few moments, Gray had to look away. David’s hand became tighter in hers and trembled. Angie lay on a bed with hair matted against her head on one side. They’d done what they could to clean up the blood, but its remnants were everywhere. Smears along the bedrail, a trail half mopped on the floor. Gray reached with her free hand to cradle David’s in both hers until she realized he was pulling away from her.

  The din of hospital noises, various beeps and hums, filled the silence as the nurses and hospital techs left, giving David time with his mother.

  He shuffled to the bed, started to rest a hand on the railing, but stopped just short of touching it. “Momma?” His voice was soft, barely a whisper, and sounded like it belonged to a much younger child.

  Swollen and bruised eyes opened and found David.

  David pulled a deep breath and in a moment’s time both mother and son were crying silent tears. “My baby,” she whispered, and the motion opened a cut along the edge of her mouth.

  He choked on a sob.

  “Shhh.” Angie placed an IV-laden hand on his. “It’s all right. It’s all right, David.”

  “Mom . . .” he said, between tears. “Are you gonna be okay?”

  Angie’s eyes fell on Gray, who’d grabbed the officer’s arm for stability. “I want you to listen to me, David. You’re the best thing that ever happened to us. You’re the miracle we prayed for and the joy we didn’t deserve.” Her quivering hand came up to touch his cheek.

  But David was folding forward, reaching over the railing as if his mom could take him in her arms and hold him until everything was better. With David’s head against the cold metal, Angie’s eyes fell on Gray. “You take care of him, Gray. Promise me.”

  Gray wanted to speak, but there were no words.

  Angie frowned, the motion drawing her brows together sternly. “Promise me.”

  This couldn’t be happening. David shouldn’t be seeing this. This was wrong. They were supposed to be eating cookies and drinking milk. But the request caught up to Gray and she nodded. “I will. I swear.”

  Angie’s hand fell away from her son and the tiniest hint of a smile touched her face. Her eyes closed and the machine monitoring her heart—the steady beep beside her—flatlined.

  “Mom?” David’s voice was high, panicked. Gray rushed forward and took him by the shoulders as people flew past them into the room, hospital shoes squeaking on the tile floor.

  “Call the code team,” someone yelled as the officer who’d been standing by ushered Gray and David from Angie’s side.

  In the hallway, she held David in her arms while he cried. It seemed forever that she watched people rushing in and out of the room. Finally, she moved David deeper into the waiting area, where the noise of people trying to save his mother’s life wasn’t quite so loud.

  They worked with Angie for over thirty-five minutes but were unsuccessful at resuscitation. She was gone. Bill was gone. And David had curled up in a hospital chair, his gangly, preteen legs hanging awkwardly off the cushion.

  Officer Cummings held a steaming cup out to Gray.

  She took it. “This can’t be real.”

  “I’m sorry about the Olsons. Is David their only child?”

  Her eyes, now burning from too many tears, found his. “Yes. I’m his birth mother. They adopted him as an infant.”

  Officer Cummings nodded, a frown creasing his smooth forehead. He was about Gray’s age, she realized. Handsome with dark hair and sharp eyes.

  Gray continued. “It was an open adoption. I’ve been involved in his life since the day he was born.” And for the nine months before that, but it didn’t seem necessary to say so.

  “I see. I can’t believe Mrs. Olson had the capacity to have you bring the temporary custody documents.”

  “That’s Angela.” Or was, Gray realized. Angie was gone.

  “Would you like me to take the two of you back to the Olsons’ house?”

  Gray nodded. Never again would Bill and Angie enter their own house. Never again would they use the plates in the cupboards or the clothes in the closets. Fresh tears found a home in the corners of her eyes.

  They tried to rouse David but he’d all but passed out from exhaustion. Finally, the officer pulled him up into his arms and carried him like a baby. “I’ve got two of my own at home.”

  Twelve-year-old David didn’t care. He’d lost his whole world tonight. He dropped his head against the officer’s shoulder and pretended to sleep.

  Gray paced the master bedroom of the Olsons’ house and tried to sort all that had happened in the last few hours. She’d tucked David in, turned on his nightlight—something he’d stuck in the drawer to pull out only for emergencies—and left him to sleep. The digital clock read 1:45 a.m. and sleep was somewhere on a distant shore even though her body screamed from fatigue.

  Everywhere she looked, she saw Bill and Angie, and how . . . how on earth was David ever going to be okay after this? How could he wake to know they weren’t coming home? She needed to be strong for him and even for herself because Bill and Angie had been the closest thing to family she’d had for a long time. All those years ago, when she’d considered raising David on her own—even though she’d known that would be impossible—they were there. But she had wanted to raise David, a dream that dissipated once her grandmother had the stroke. It was after finding out Gray was pregnant. At eighteen, there was no way she could have cared for Nana and the baby. Even though she and Nana had moved in with Gray’s aunt in Laver when Gray was three months along. Aunt Sharon had a tiny house. There was no space, no money. And Gray had been a single young girl with a disabled grandmother to take care of.

  There’d been another couple who’d wanted David. But they hadn’t been agreeable with t
he idea of an open adoption, and Gray had been selfish not wanting to lose her child entirely.

  Bill and Angie were—had been—wonderful parents. Now, it was up to her. She curled onto the master bed and tugged a throw blanket over her. The guest room was downstairs, but she didn’t want to be that far from David in case he needed her.

  A sound at the bedroom door caused her to look up. He stood there, hands at his sides, something dangling from one. For a twelve-year-old, he looked small. He lifted his hand and Gray could see it was a Ninja Turtle. “My dad bought me this when he took Mom to Vegas.”

  Gray leaned up on her elbow. “I remember. You were nine or ten.”

  He took a step inside. “Yeah. He said he would bring me a stuffed animal from Circus Circus. I said I was too old for stuffed animals.”

  When he moved into the room, the light caught the sheen of tears on his face. “He brought me this. Said it was okay to have stuffed toys if they were ninjas.”

  Gray bit into her cheeks to keep the tears at bay.

  David hugged the turtle. “I wasn’t really too old. I loved it. I wasn’t too old, Gray. Do you think he knew I liked it? I did. I swear I did.”

  “David, your mom and dad knew everything about you. And they loved everything about you. Your dad knew you loved it. Your mom knew you hated peas. She told me she only put them on your plate so she could watch you think of creative ways to make them disappear.”

  He stood straighter. “She did?”

  “Her favorite was the night you dropped them one by one in the flower vase.”

  “She knew that?”

  “Your dad told me you loved that Ninja Turtle and when the side ripped out, he stitched it himself.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Sewed the thing to his pant leg in the process. Had to redo the whole thing. Your mom and dad were the smartest people I’ve ever known so please, please don’t ever wonder if they knew how you felt about them.” Because that’s what this was really about. Gray knew. She understood. In the last couple years as David had gone from being a kid to being a preteen, he’d been trying to test the boundaries of his independence. He’d even planned to put the stuffed animal in a garage sale, but Angie had pulled it out, saying, he’ll be sorry if he gets rid of it.

  How had they been so smart? They’d never raised a child before, yet seemed to instinctively know what David needed. How was Gray going to fill those shoes?

  “Do you need a glass of water?” she asked, wanting to help, not having a clue how. What would Angie do?

  He shook his head.

  “Shall I come tuck you back in?”

  Moonlight seeped through the slats in the window, slashing his face. “Can I lie down with you?”

  Her heart nearly burst. “Sure.” Gray patted the bed and readjusted the throw so she could cover them both.

  David moved onto his parents’ king-size mattress. He snuggled into the pillow with the Ninja Turtle tucked beneath his arm. “It smells like them,” he whispered.

  Gray fought tears because David was trying to capture the scent of his mom and dad just like she’d tried to capture the scent of her nana. She placed a hand on his head and the smooth hair he’d gotten from her. It was black as coal and straight. She might as well be touching her own head. Just as she thought he’d drifted off to sleep, his giant honey eyes opened.

  She smiled.

  He didn’t smile back, his demeanor serious. Then he blinked and she watched his chin quiver. “I love you, Gray.”

  “I love you, too, David.” And her heart melted because she’d hoped and prayed for the last twelve years she’d hear those words, and now that she had, she wished she could change everything in the last several hours if it would mean bringing back his parents, even if that meant never hearing those words from her son’s mouth.

  Miah had been gracious about letting her stay home from work without peppering her with questions. She’d told him only what was necessary. The friends she’d been babysitting for died on their way home. She’d be taking care of their son for a bit.

  Thursday after the funeral, Gray sat in Wilson Granger’s office. He’d been the Olsons’ attorney for years and had even handled the adoption. For the first few days, she’d stayed at the house with David, but when the quiet seemed to be taking a toll, she’d brought him to her house in River Rock. He’d needed a change of scenery and she’d needed to think. If she’d figured right, she could possibly have her place done in the next six months. It was January now and the weather had been unusually warm, but if a cold snap came, Nana’s house was nothing if not drafty with the wind whistling right under the doors and in around the windows. But they could manage. David loved it there and she wasn’t sure how smart it was for him to be home with his parents gone.

  “You look tired, Mary Grace.” Wilson smiled over his half-glasses. He was a kind man who’d aged gracefully in the twelve years she’d known him. “How’s David?”

  She was here at his request. Gray had been with Angie and Bill when they assigned Gray as not only the temporary guardian, but as permanent guardian as well in two separate documents that would give her custody in the event of their untimely passing. Now all that was left were the details and that was undoubtedly why Wilson had called. “David’s holding up. Not ready for school yet, of course. In fact, I wanted to ask you about that because Angie and Bill had planned for him to transfer to River Rock when he went into high school. Since I already live there, do you think it would be wise to transfer him now?”

  Wilson pulled the glasses from his face.

  “I mean, I know he’s been through a lot, and, believe me, I don’t mind driving him to Laver Middle School each day; it’s no trouble. I just wondered what you thought? If a fresh start might be good?”

  “Do you remember coming in with the Olsons to set up the guardianship papers?”

  “Of course. It was over three years ago. Bill and Angie set up the Temporary Guardianship Document and the Permanent Guardianship Document along with the Instructions to Caregiver and Instructions to Guardian.”

  “Yes, that’s right, the Child’s Protective Plan, the directives in case something happens to one or both parents.” Wilson rubbed a hand over the bridge of his nose. “Mary Grace, did the Olsons speak with you about their financial situation?”

  What did that have to do with David? Their corporate dealings were none of her business. “I know Bill had expanded his company. Angie mentioned that they were having some difficulties in their finances, but just growing pains.”

  Wilson leaned back in his leather chair and stared at the ceiling. “There couldn’t have been a worse time for this to happen. Not that there’s ever a good time, but the Olsons had refinanced their home, essentially liquidating everything to sink into the company.”

  Was he saying there was no inheritance for David? That didn’t matter, not really. He was smart, would get a full scholarship to the college of his choice and, in the meantime, Gray was capable of taking care of him. An inheritance didn’t matter.

  Wilson went on. “They’d even cut their life insurance policies. The accident was most likely their fault; eyewitnesses said Bill swerved to miss a dog running across the road.”

  “I’m sorry, Wilson. What does this have to do with me?”

  His chest expanded with the breath he drew, causing the buttons on his dress shirt to groan under the pressure. “I just need you to understand.” He frowned. “Angela didn’t discuss anything with you recently?”

  Gray was tiring of this. “She asked me a few weeks ago if we could get coffee, but we never did.”

  He frowned. “And that struck you as odd?”

  “Only because she had the same look on her face as you do now.” Gray’s heart was pounding. Something wasn’t right about this whole meeting. Wilson had been too formal, too professional, shaking her hand when sh
e arrived when usually he gave her a hug. “Wilson, what’s going on?”

  But then the secretary knocked and swung his door open and there . . .

  Gray stood from her seat because in the splash of sunlight that slipped through the front door and right into Wilson’s office, she saw something that wasn’t possible. Couldn’t be possible. There, standing on the other side of Wilson’s secretary, was Jeremiah McKinley.

  CHAPTER 7

  There was more than a little confusion in Miah’s golden eyes as they trailed from Wilson to Gray and back again. His brow furrowed, his shoulders filling the doorway.

  “Mr. McKinley, thank you for coming.” Wilson smiled.

  And the whole of what might be happening right now began a slow drip through Gray’s system. The secretary disappeared and closed the door behind her.

  “Please, have a seat.” Wilson used his attorney voice, the one that was friendly but edged with control.

  Miah stepped in, reached out toward Gray. “Did you ask him to call me?”

  A shake of her head caused Miah to look to Wilson for answers.

  “Before we go any further, I need to ask you if it’s all right for Mary Grace to remain in the room while we discuss the matter concerning Bill and Angela Olson.”

  “Wha—Yes, of course it’s okay for Gray to be in here. She’s the one who knew them.” Miah crossed his hands over his chest to wait. He obviously wasn’t enjoying the red tape and half answers.

  “Mr. McKinley, Bill and Angela Olson were—and still are—my clients. Do you know who they are?”

  Gray’s eyes closed. No. This couldn’t be happening.

  “Yes, sir. Friends of Gray—er, Mary Grace—she said they’d died in a car accident and she was keeping their son for a time.”

  “And I understand that Mary Grace works for you? Is that why she informed you of the situation?”

  “Yes, sir. She’d taken off a couple days to keep their son, and that’s when they had the car accident. She’s been off since, of course.”