South of Superior - Ellen Airgood [98]
Randi did, and John said he thought it’d be good if Madeline could take Greyson for the time being. Paul said he was going to follow the ambulance to the hospital and would let her know as soon as he found out anything.
“But Mommy’s in the car!” Greyson cried when he Understood everyone was leaving.
“No, she’s not,” Madeline reassured him. “They got her out and took her straight to the hospital, really fast. They’re going to take care of her, and I’m going to take care of you.” She took one of his hands but he jerked it away.
“Noooo. Mom. Mommy!”
Paul said soothing things and stroked Greyson’s hair as he walked him toward the Buick, but Greyson continued wailing. Paul gave Madeline a lost look. She shook her head, not knowing what to suggest, and held her hands out to take him again.
“Mommy, Mommy, Mommy,” Greyson wailed, twisting in her arms. She swallowed hard, but kept walking.
Randi ended up in critical condition in the hospital in Sault Ste. Marie. The story of the crash had come out around town pretty fast. The three kids who’d been in the car with Randi were from out of town, staying at summer places with their families. There were drugs in the car, and a lot of cash. Someone was going to be in a lot of trouble. Probably not the summer kids, so much. Their parents could afford very good lawyers.
After two days, Madeline took Greyson to see Randi.
“Mommy!” he cried, breaking loose of her hold on his hand, running across the room, and clambering Up the side of Randi’s bed. Madeline caught him before he could fling himself on her. The emotion in him was so raw, it chastened her. Was it really she who had thought with such cold certainty that he should be taken from Randi, that she was Unfit to raise a child? It was true, in a way. And in a way, he had been taken from her. So Madeline was right. But she saw now that this rightness was nothing.
“Careful.” She found an edge of the bed to set him on. “Your mom’s pretty sore, you can’t jump on her.” She could see the outline of a cast beneath the sheet. Randi’s right arm was in a cast, too, and her face was badly bruised. The injuries went beyond that and Madeline wondered again about bringing Greyson so soon. But she decided it would be better to let him see her, no matter how bad it was. Better to know and see than worry and wonder.
It was huge, all this deciding on behalf of someone else. How had Emmy done it?
Sometimes Madeline wondered—had she been a burden, changed the course of Emmy’s life? Was she the reason Emmy never got married; was a child—a sometimes nervous, needy child—too much for the handful of men Madeline remembered Emmy dating? Had she ever regretted her decision to take Madeline in some corner of her heart? Now she knew. You just did a thing like this, regardless of fear or doubt. Of course Madeline had changed Emmy’s life. But then, everything did. A random cup of coffee, an overheard conversation, a chance meeting in a grocery store. But how, oh how, had Emmy known what to do from moment to moment?
Madeline told herself she would just take it one small step at a time, inch along from hummock to hummock, like working her way across a bog. First fix Greyson an egg and a piece of toast for breakfast, then drive him to see Randi. Then—lunch. After that, the next thing, which she would figure out when she got closer to it.
“Hey, little man,” Randi said in her husky voice. She seemed groggy.
“Mom, it was so scary when the car skidded, Leon was hanging on to me and everybody was yelling and then you were the only one who couldn’t get out, and then the ambulance came and you still couldn’t get out and I was scared.”
“It was pretty scary,” Randi said, her eyes half closed. Probably she was full of painkillers.
“Mom. Wake Up!”
Randi opened her eyes with some effort, smiled at Greyson. “Sorry, kiddo, I’m kinda beat.”
“But when are you coming home?”
“Dunno, Grey.” Her eyes were drifting shut again. “Be a little bit, I think. You staying with