Chapter 12
"Gary? You awake?" Chuck gently shook Gary's shoulder. After the doctor had left, Chuck and Crumb had sat with Gary for another hour. Chuck had started to tell Crumb about everything that had been going on in California, but finally shut up when it became apparent that Crumb wasn't interested. He listened to Gary's breathing-every rasping breath scraping at the festering guilt he felt for not being there to help when Gary had needed him.
Crumb had stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, his face stoic as though he were Gary's personal guard. Gary's condition hadn't changed. He was still breathing like he had just run a marathon. A nurse had explained that the number that was flashing on the monitor should normally be around ninety-six, but that as long as Gary's number eighty-eight didn't fall any lower, he was at least holding his own. Chuck tried to take comfort in that. "Hey, Gar, the nurses are kicking us out now. I'll be back tomorrow, okay?"
Gary nodded, opening his eyes, "Thanks for coming, Chuck. Sorry I'm such lousy company. Take care of the paper for me, would ya?"
Chuck pasted on a grin. "No problem, buddy." He blinked hard, looking away. He started to ask if he should call Marissa, but Gary's eyes had already drifted closed. He'd call her, Chuck decided.
Back in the ICU waiting room, Chuck retrieved his suitcase, amazed that it had remained untouched throughout his visit.
"So, where are you staying, Fishman? Can I give you a lift?"
Chuck turned towards Crumb. That was a good question, one he hadn't even thought about. What was he thinking? That he could just go back to his old apartment? Chuck took a deep breath, cursing his lack of planning. "I really don't know, Crumb. I guess I wasn't thinking that far ahead."
Crumb snorted, "Don't surprise me none. Listen, why don't you stay in Hobson's apartment? I doubt he would mind."
Obviously, Crumb didn't know Gary quite as well as he did, Chuck thought wryly. Of course, since Gary wasn't home, there was little chance that Chuck could annoy him, so what the heck, he might as well stay there. Besides, that way it would be easier to help out at McGinty's while he was here.
Chuck dropped his suitcase inside the door to Gary's apartment. He glanced around the room. Gary's bed was unmade, with the comforter balled up in the middle. Walking into the kitchen area, Chuck noted an empty container of aspirin sitting out on the counter next to a bottle of cough medicine; silent testimony that Gary had tried to treat his illness himself.
Several days' worth of laundry was strewn near the bed, most of it having a just stepped out of appearance. Chuck sighed. It wasn't like Gary to let dirty clothes lay around. He was usually a fairly neat person. Chuck kicked most of it out of the way and it into a corner. He'd deal with that later.
First thing he wanted to do was to call Marissa; unfortunately, he had no idea what her mother's phone number was. Knowing Marissa though, she had probably left the number, as well as a complete list of everything that needed to be done in her absence, in a note down in the office. He turned to go downstairs and check when his eye caught the flashing light of the answering machine.
He hesitated, feeling somewhat like an interloper. Chuck shrugged, that had never stopped him from being nosy before. Besides, this time he had a good excuse to listen to Gar's messages. He took a few steps to the table where the machine set.
"Hey Gar! Where are ya, buddy? I've been trying-"
There must be something wrong with the machine to make his voice sound so bad, Chuck mused as he skipped the rest of the message that he had left on Gary's machine when he had called from California.
"Hello, Gary? This is Renee. I was just thinking about you, and-"
Chuck paused the tape, tempted to listen to the rest of Renee's message. Finally, he sighed and hit the skip button. Even he wasn't so nosy that he would listen to personal messages. He grinned, he could always come back to it later. Right now, though, he hoped that Marissa had called and left a message. He hit the play button again.
"Bingo!" Chuck smiled as he heard Marissa's serene voice.
"Hi Gary. I guess you're out saving the world, huh? Anyway, I just called to tell you that my mother is doing well. I'm not sure of when I'm coming back, but it looks like it could be towards the end of the week. I hope things are going smoothly, and I'll be back as soon as I can. Call if you need anything. Here is the number to my mom's, in case you lost it."
Chuck grabbed a pencil and a piece of scrap paper and quickly jotted the number down.
"Mama? What are you doing?" Marissa could hear cans scrape the shelf.
Her mother sighed, "I'm trying to reach the can of tomato soup."
"Why didn't you let me get it, Mama? You know you're not supposed to be lifting your arms above your head," Marissa gently admonished. Sometimes her mother could be so stubborn. "Just tell me if I have the right can." She carefully reached up towards the shelf.
"Two to the left, Marissa."
Marissa handed her mother the soup just as the phone rang. "I'll get it. You go ahead and make your soup. If it's one of your church friends, do you feel up to talking with them, or do you want me to tell them you're resting?"
"I'll talk."
"Okay." Marissa answered the phone. "Hello?"
"Hello, Marissa?"
She smiled at the familiar voice. "Chuck? Is that you?"
"Yeah, it's me. How are things going? Gary told me about your mother."
"Everything is going really well. My mother is back on her feet and just as stubborn as ever." Marissa flashed a grin towards the stove, where she could hear her mother stirring the soup. "So, did Gary give you my mom's number? Have you talked to him recently?"
There was a hesitation on Chuck's end, followed by a sigh. "Um, no...not exactly."
A prickling apprehension crept through Marissa. "What is it, Chuck?"
"Gary's sick, Marissa. He's in the hospital with pneumonia."
Marissa felt around for the kitchen table, and slid onto a chair, her head resting in her hand. "Gary's sick with pneumonia? How bad is it?"
Her mother's hand gently squeezed her shoulder and Marissa reached up to cover it with her own trembling hand.
"It's bad. Really bad. They're thinking of sticking that tube down him to help him to breathe. You know, like he had before."
Marissa gasped. Chuck sure didn't pull any punches. "Oh my God! When...when did he get sick?"
"Crumb said that Gary collapsed at a parking garage a few days ago."
"How come nobody called me?"
"Well, what am I? Chopped liver? I'm callin' ya."
"I'm sorry, Chuck. It's just such a shock." Marissa shuddered, blinking back a tear. Her mother walked away, but returned a moment later with a soft tissue that she placed in Marissa's hand.
"I know. I know, Marissa. Sorry about that. I only found out last night when I called McGinty's. Crumb told me but I guess Gary made him promise not to call either of us. He didn't think it was a big deal. You know Gary."
Marissa did know Gary, and knew that it was just like him to not want to bother anyone.
"I flew out this morning and went directly to the hospital. I only just now got back to Gary's and got your number."
"You're in Chicago? You've already seen Gary? How-how did he seem?"
"He's sleeping a lot. In fact, he hardly spoke at all. I think he lost some weight."
"How did he get so sick? Didn't anyone notice?"
"Well, according to Crumb, the both of them were so busy that they barely saw each other."
Marissa swallowed, guilt flooding through her. It was partly her fault that Gary had been so busy. Even before she had left, Gary had been running himself ragged. Why had she hoped that it would be any different just because she was gone? The paper had never given Gary vacation time before. " I should have been there, Chuck." Maybe if she had, things would have been different. At least, she would have noticed if Gary had been sick. Maybe.
"No, Marissa. It wouldn't have made any difference. The doctor said that the kind of pneumonia that Gary had comes on really quickly." There was a slight pause, "Besides, you had a good reason."
