Series: Snapshots of the Past
Story: Crossroads
Chapter 10
Disclaimer: The characters depicted in this story belong to NBC, WB, Aaron Sorkin, and John Wells. We're just borrowing them for some fun :)
Previously: Jed learned the accident was a hit-and-run and Abbey was crtically injured; Jed confronted Alex, but Rob Nolan assured him that Alex was in the OR at the time of the accident and did not have anything to do with it; Liz's experienced a ruptured placenta as a result of the trauma from the accident and was rushed into surgery; Jed and Doug found common ground and prayed together in the chapel for the health and safety of their wives and daughters
Summary: Jed learns he's a grandfather; Ellie is shattered by the news, then helps her father tell Zoey; Liz wakes up; Jed is full of regret and stays at Abbey's bedside
Author's Note: TRIGGER WARNING. I was reluctant to post this now due to the pandemic and the potential for triggers for everyone who's been affected by the illness, but I've gotten a lot of emails and PMs from people looking for an update. This storyline began long before the pandemic, but it's a shame that this is where we are now. This chapter does take place in a hospital and part of it is in the ICU. I won't be insulted at all if you choose not to read. I'm going to speed up the story to get everyone out of the hospital as quickly as possible. Please stay safe and healthy out there.
"I can't believe you didn't bring a compass." Abbey surveyed the trees surrounding them, still bare with ice crystals on their branches. She wore snowshoes and carried a trekking pole.
"We don't need a compass," Jed assured her as he scanned the forest. "I'm a modern day Daniel Boone."
"Or Wrong Way Corrigan," she muttered softly, earning herself a glare from her husband.
It was supposed to be an easy hike, one they'd done a million times before when they lived in Hanover. They'd driven there from Manchester that April morning in 1980 and hopped on the Appalachian Trail's Velvet Rocks path for the three-hour, five-mile hike in the New Hampshire woods. This was Jed's territory. While Abbey knew the White Mountains like the back of her hand, Jed prided himself on navigating this part of the Appalachian Trail. But something went awry that day. In an effort to inject a bit of spontaneity into their hike while distracted by his love of nature and the company of the person he loved most in the world, he'd accidentally led them astray, off the trail and into the back woods. And so here they were, lost, as the sun began to set.
"Look at that, isn't it gorgeous?" he said, admiring the streak of crimson across the sky.
"I'd think it a lot prettier if I had any idea where we were right now."
"I know where we are."
"Then where's the car?"
"It's this way." He started toward a clearing. "Come on."
"How can you tell?" she asked.
"The moss on the trees. That way is north."
"A lot of things can account for the moss, including moisture from the ice."
He sighed. "I'm going that way. Are you going to stand here and refute everything I say or are you going follow me out?"
"To tell you the truth, I haven't decided."
They began walking again, up a hill and down again a short distance from where they'd been. Jed crossed a massive web of trunks, soaked by the melting ice, and stepped over one of the thicker logs to reach a patch of dirt on the other side. He then turned around and put his hand out to help Abbey climb over. As she safely planted her left foot on the mound of muddy terrain, her right foot slipped, she waddled to the side and had Jed not grabbed her tight, she would have fallen to the ground.
"Are you okay?"
"I don't know. I twisted my ankle." Standing, she rubbed her hands down her thigh then lifted her foot to wiggle it.
Jed cleared a patch of snow from the log. "Sit."
"It's okay," she said unconvincingly.
"Abbey, sit." He remained firm as she looked up through her lashes at him, her head tilted to the side in an effort to hide her pain before she finally took a seat. Jed kneeled down beside her and lifted the hem of her pants. He ran his hand up and down her ankle leaving the imprint of his finger visible in the swollen tissue. "All right, that's it. No more walking."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. We've gotta get an x-ray."
"We don't need an x-ray."
"Look at it. It's been 30 seconds and it's already swollen like that? You need an x-ray."
"Who's the doctor here?"
"You clearly. Doctors do make the worst patients."
"Ha ha," Abbey replied sarcastically. She rolled down her pants and stood. "While I respect the effort, your diagnostic skills rival your sense of direction, darling."
"I thought you might say that." He raised a brow. Without another word, he lifted her off her feet and scooped her up into his arms. "You don't get a choice in this."
"Jed! What are you doing?"
"What does it look like? I'm going to carry you home."
"Like a prince rescuing his damsel in distress?"
"Something like that."
"One problem there, Romeo," she teased, her arm swung around his neck and staring him in the eye. "In those old fairy tales, the prince usually knows the way home."
"Another word out of you and I'll throw you over my shoulder."
Abbey chuckled as he carried her, bouncing and prancing over the trail that finally led them toward a clearing and a path that toward their car.
Present Day:
Jed could hear their voices like it was yesterday. Detached completely from the present, Abbey's laugh echoed in his mind. That hiking trip had been his idea - a little peaceful togetherness in the midst of the commotion of raising three young girls while launching two successful careers. Zoey had been born a year earlier, Ellie was only 7, and Lizzie was 13. All three girls at home with him and Abbey, everyone healthy and happy. It was so simple then, he thought in that idealistic way that he often remembered the past. What a perfect life they'd lived.
He was so laser-focused on that memory that he didn't even hear James call his name until he practically yelled it on the third try.
"JED!"
"Sorry," he said as he shook his head as if coming out of a daze.
"Are you okay? It's like you were in a trance."
"Is there any news?"
"Doug is still with Lizzie," James told him. "We're waiting for an update."
"What about Abbey? I don't want her to be alone if she wakes up." He stood with a purpose until James put a hand on his shoulder.
"Mary is with her, son. She's not alone."
Relieved, he took one long breath, a momentary reprieve from the constant state of panic he felt. He tried to relax, but then he caught sight of Doug, framed in the doorway of the waiting room, and he felt his blood pressure rise again as he nervously approached, James alongside him.
"She's still asleep," Doug told them.
"The baby?" Jed asked.
Doug looked proud. Happy. "The baby was born. She's healthy."
"Oh thank God." Another flash of relief washed over his face and he looked up to give thanks for his granddaughter.
"They're cleaning her up now. You can see her in a few minutes."
James took a minute to take in the news. His great-granddaughter was here and he couldn't wait to hold her. Then, in a much more somber term, he asked, "And Lizzie?"
"She had a rough time."
"What does that mean, a rough time?" Jed asked.
"Lots of blood." Doug stared at the ground. He couldn't face his father-in-law. "So much blood. She had a transfusion."
"How is she now?"
"They think she'll be okay."
"They think?" Jed leaned forward trying to make eye contact with Doug.
"We have to wait for the meds to wear off and for her to wake up, but they said she should be fine."
"After all this? Trust me, the last thing Lizzie will be is 'fine.' "
"I meant..."
"No, I know what you meant. I'm sorry, I just...this should be the happiest day of our lives. All of us. And instead..."
James fought back his own fears and said, "Ok, all right, they stopped the bleeding. They gave her a transfusion. That's progress, right? She's young, she's healthy, that bodes well for her."
"There were some complications early on," Jed remembered aloud. "The doctors were concerned about her high blood pressure." He looked at Doug again. "There was talk of pre-eclampsia. Do you remember?"
"It resolved," Doug told him. "We just saw the obstetrician the other day. Her blood pressure was down. The pregnancy was progressing normally until the accident."
"Where is her OB in all this? Who is this doctor taking care of her? Do we know him? Does he know her history? Does he know what he's doing?"
Doug shrugged. "He's an OB-Gyn. He was on-call overnight."
Jed paced. "I wish Abbey was here. Maybe she knows this guy or at the very least, she could weigh in on Lizzie's progress and the treatment plan." He clenched his fists. "Damn it, she should be here! Do you know how she's going to feel when she wakes up and learns that Lizzie went through this without her mother, that Lizzie nearly...died?"
He could barely choke out that word.
"Jed..." James reached out to touch his son-in-law's arm. "I'm sure this doctor knows what he's doing. And her regular doctor will likely be notified in the morning. I think we all need to stay calm here."
"How can I stay calm? Until I know my family is going to remain intact, calm is an unrealistic expectation."
A moment of silence passed between the three men until Doug spoke up in a soft but hopeful voice. "There might be something to help in the meantime."
He gestured toward the nursery just a few feet away where a newborn baby girl was being tucked into her bed. The older men followed Doug as he led them to meet the newest member of the family, the first glimmer of light in the last 12 hours.
Jed beamed with pride as he cradled his granddaughter. So tiny, she slept comfortably in his arms as he swayed from side to side. Abbey had once told him after Lizzie was born that he had a way with babies. He'd been terrified to hold his first born and yet, as soon as he did, she instantly fell asleep. Abbey said it was because she trusted him. He scoffed at that; as if babies knew anything about trust, he'd said.
"They know when they feel comfortable with someone," Abbey had insisted. "They're vulnerable; they have that same fight or flight instinct the rest of us do. And look. No squirming. No whimpering. Not even a day old and she knows she can let down her guard and stop her crying in your arms, allow herself to relax and sleep soundly without a care in the world."
It was 19 years ago, but Jed remembered it so clearly.
He snapped himself back to the present then.
"What's her name?" he asked his son-in-law.
"Liz will kill me if I tell you without her."
It must be good. "Spill."
"It'll be our secret," James encouraged him.
"Anneliese."
"That's beautiful," a surprised Jed replied. After all those other ideas Liz had, all those options he'd teased her about, she'd chosen a classic name for her daughter.
"Liz searched long and hard for that name. She must have gone through at least a dozen baby name books. She'd like one and then she'd cross it off the list for whatever reason - either it was too short or too long or she didn't like the nickname or it didn't go with the middle name."
"What's the middle name?"
"The middle name was set from the beginning. Liz never budged," Doug said. "It's Abigail."
"Anneliese Abigail Westin." Jed said it aloud.
"When Liz put it all together, she knew it was perfect. We'll probably call her Anne or Annie, but she wanted a strong, formal name."
A teary-eyed James replied, "Abbey will be touched."
Jed was too. He remembered that conversation with Liz several months earlier when she was searching for a first name. He'd said that he was partial to the name Elizabeth and suggested that Liz name the baby after herself. Liz wouldn't have it. She had told him that when you name a child after someone, it means that you want that child to be just like their namesake.
He swallowed back tears now hearing that Liz had named her daughter after her mother, gifting this sweet little baby a version of Abbey's name in reverse and using Anne, the middle name Abbey and Liz both shared. Abbey should have been there to hear it and to learn about the conversation Jed and Liz had all those months ago so she'd know how very special it was. He tucked it away in the back of his mind and vowed to tell her about it one day.
Back at the Bartlet farm, Mrs. Wilburforce couldn't sleep. She'd slept at the farmhouse before, when Abbey was stuck at work and Jed was in Washington. She had her own room for those rare occasions they'd ask her to stay overnight. It was just down the hall from the girls' bedrooms, a cozy corner room with two twin-sized cheery wood beds. She tossed and turned in one of those beds now, shoving aside the blanket and staring at the ceiling. After another several minutes of restlessness, she finally decided it was time to get up.
Warm milk was what she needed, she thought. It was a common ailment for those sleepless nights, especially for the children. When she began working for the Bartlets, Abbey had shared her own personal recipe, something she said worked like a charm for the girls. She'd added with a light laugh that it worked pretty well on Jed too.
Mrs. Wilburforce knew it would do the trick tonight. A bit of warm milk and she'd be fast asleep. She turned on the bedside lamp and slid her feet into her slippers to make her way downstairs.
The steps creaked and the sound echoed more than usual. Or was it just that she was more aware of it tonight? The Bartlet home had never been so quiet. She reached the landing to the main floor and headed for the kitchen, where she retrieved a pan from the cabinet, cinnamon from the pantry, and milk from the fridge.
She had her own way of making the concoction, but tonight, she opted for Abbey's method, perhaps as a way of feeling closer to her as she lay injured in the hospital. With Jed living in Washington, Mrs. Wilburforce had spent so many hours caring for the girls after school until Abbey returned from work. Abbey would sometimes invite her to stay for dinner and on those nights that she did, she witnessed the dynamic between mother and daughters. Those girls adored Abbey. Zoey usually monopolized her attention while Ellie was happy to just sit quietly with her mother. Elizabeth, the teenager with a smart mouth and spitfire wit that rivaled her father's, often sparred with Abbey, sometimes playfully and sometimes not. But even in those times they were at odds, the love between Abbey and her eldest daughter was obvious to even the most casual observer.
She wondered what happened in that car. Were they laughing and having a good time before the collision? Were they were arguing and did they lose control of the vehicle? Did someone crash into them? Were they conscious or in pain? She didn't know how serious the accident was, hadn't yet heard about the extent of the injuries, but she knew one thing - if one of them didn't make it, it would surely destroy the other.
She tried to block those morbid thoughts. She had her milk, then rinsed her glass, and started back upstairs. She had just reached the top landing when she noticed the light filtering through the bottom of Ellie's door.
"Ellie?" she knocked and called out softly for the 12-year-old. When she didn't hear a response, she let herself in.
"Hi," Ellie said, lying on her stomach on her bed with her head turned to look at the older woman.
"It's 3 am. Why aren't you asleep?"
"Are they hurt?"
"Who?"
"My mom and Lizzie. I'm not stupid. I know something happened." Why else would her father have left so suddenly? She assumed the car had broken down or maybe a flat tire. But when Jed didn't return, her thoughts drifted to more serious possibilities.
Mrs. Wilburforce sighed. "They were in an accident, honey. I don't know anything more."
"My dad's at the hospital?"
"Yes, he is."
"Can you call him? Maybe have him paged."
"Let's wait until morning. He may be sleeping in a waiting room or something."
"No, he's not. If Mom and Lizzie are hurt, he wouldn't sleep."
"Maybe he's trying to get some news."
Ellie didn't buy it. "You're just afraid of what he's going to say. You're afraid of having to tell me the bad news."
"Ellie, that's not it..." Mrs. Wilburforce sat down on the foot of Ellie's bed. Her gray hair, usually tied in a bun, was loose and she pulled it back as she tried to reassure the scared little girl in front of her.
"Then why?" Ellie asked with a squeak as if trying to hold back tears.
"I'll tell you what, let's go downstairs and I'll make you some warm milk. Your mom's own recipe."
Ellie shook her head. "We had a fight before. Me and Zoey. I shoved her out of my room and she fell down. My dad stopped us. He was mad at both of us and I accused him of blaming me. I talked back to him in a really snotty way."
"It's okay, Ellie. No one's thinking about that right now." Mrs. Wilburforce took her hand. "Come on downstairs with me. We'll talk it all out."
"My mom sent me to my room. She told me not to come out until she came to get me."
"That was hours ago."
"It doesn't matter." Ellie shook her head again. "I'm going to stay right here until my mom comes to get me."
And with that, she buried her head in her pillow. It was too difficult for her to talk. She couldn't get a handle on her emotions, on the rollercoaster she'd been on since the night she ratted Zoey out to her parents, the moment Zoey pushed her and something changed inside her. She couldn't explain it, but she knew she hated it and tonight, more than ever, she felt out of control.
Mrs. Wilburforce sat beside her and ran a hand over the back of her head and down her shiny blonde curls.
Jed stood on the roof of the hospital, his hands in his pocket as he breathed in the chilly New England air and watched the sun rise over Manchester. This was one of Abbey's favorite things to do. Overnight hours in the operating room or long nights on call always ended with a few minutes of silence in the exact same spot he was standing now. She used to tell him about the sunrise, the beauty of the city and the Merrimack River, the hills and mountains in the distance all coming alive under the sun's powerful rays.
He would have given anything for her to be out there with him to enjoy it. He'd just spent two hours at her bedside. He saw the tube down her throat, the lines in her arms, the sound of the machines in the background. He held her hand and cried beside her. He hoped she'd move or squeeze his hand just a little, anything to let him know she could hear him, that she was aware of his touch, of how much he loved her.
Standing outside now, he reflected on the day before. It was like a movie in the VCR and he kept hitting rewind, watching the same scene over and over again. The meeting with the attorney and the disagreement that followed. Alex. He remembered Abbey telling him how vulnerable she felt against his allegations and begging him to trust that she'd never been unfaithful to him. How he wished he'd told her he did. He didn't accuse her of betraying him, but he didn't exactly squash her fears either. Of course he knew she didn't sleep with Alex. He knew she didn't lead him on. But instead of giving her the reassurance she wanted, he reminded her that she went to Chicago with a man who was in love with her. She took it as an accusation and he regretted that with everything in him. How could that have been the last conversation between them? How could it be the last memory?
He leaned forward and his forearms rested on the railing that circled the roof. He looked out as far as his eyes could see. It hurt, the thought of losing her. It physically hurt and it was the worst pain he'd ever known.
"Please," he said, pleading to God with his eyes closed and tears emerging from his lashes. "Please don't let her die."
Jed took his time driving home. He felt guilty for leaving Abbey and Lizzie, but it was morning and he had to pull himself together so he could return to the farmhouse to tell Ellie and Zoey what happened. His hesitation caused him to drive much slower than usual. Breaking bad news was never part of his skill set. Abbey was good at it, but he detested it, actively put it off in most cases. But he couldn't put it off today. It had to be done and he had to be the one to do it.
He parked in the front drive when he arrived. Mrs. Wilburforce greeted him as soon as he walked in. She told him that Ellie knew and that she had refused to leave her room. That was Jed's wake-up call. Thinking about his little girl suffering with the news all alone upstairs lit a fire under him and he flew up the steps and directly to her room.
He knocked. "Ellie? Princess?"
"Come in." Ellie remained under her covers in the exact same position she was in when Mrs. Wilburforce left her.
"Hey."
"Are they..." she trailed off before finishing the sentence.
"They're in the hospital. Lizzie is on the regular hospital floor. I think she's going to be okay. And Mom...Mom is in the ICU. Do you know what that is?"
Ellie nodded. She'd learned that hospital lingo following Abbey around. "Intensive care. It's where they go when they're hurt more seriously."
"That's right," he confirmed as he kneeled down beside her bed. "There was an accident, sweetheart. Another car hit them."
"How?"
"I don't know yet. But it's going be okay. They're surrounded by incredible doctors. You know how Mom always brags about how good her colleagues are? Well, they're taking really good care of her."
"Is the other person okay?"
"The other person? You mean the other driver?" The question threw Jed off. He hadn't even wondered about the health of the person who hit them. "I don't know."
"Were they arrested?"
"No," he said. "Unfortunately, we don't know who it was. They left the scene."
"They just left them there?" In her innocent mind, she couldn't fathom such a thing. Who would leave another human being hurt on the side of the road?
"It looks that way." He bit his lip then, a tactic to avoid lashing out about the coward who did this. "Why don't you get washed up and I'll make us some breakfast?"
"I don't want breakfast."
"How about some delicious blueberry pancakes?"
"No."
"You have to eat, Ellie. You didn't have dinner last night either."
"I'm not hungry," she insisted. "Can I see Mom?"
"No, sweetheart, I'm sorry."
"Why not?" she asked. Her voice cracked again. Tears trailed down her face.
"Kids aren't allowed in the ICU."
"She could die and I can't even see her?"
"She's not going to die!" He regretted it as soon as he said it. After all, he couldn't guarantee that and he'd risk getting Ellie's hopes up only to be crushed if Abbey didn't make it.
"You don't know that!" She cried harder.
"You're right, I don't. I don't." He took a breath and rubbed Ellie's back. "But one thing I do know is that if she was here, she'd tell you how much she loves you. And she'd want you to get up and have breakfast."
"I'm not hungry." Ellie turned away.
Jed walked to the other side of her bed so he could look at her again. "How about you have a few bites and I'll take you to the hospital to see Lizzie?"
"I can see Lizzie?"
"You bet you can...and there's someone else waiting to see you too."
"Who?"
"Your niece."
That was the last thing Ellie expected. With everything that happened, she'd forgotten all about Liz's baby. "The baby was born?"
"She sure was. She's here and she's beautiful and healthy."
"Really?" Ellie's face lit up.
"I'm sorry I have to tell you under these circumstances, but here we are." Jed stood then. "You're an aunt, and I know your niece would love to meet you."
Ellie felt a surge of emotions and suddenly, sadness and grief were replaced with happiness and curiosity. Almost immediately, she felt guilty. How could she smile or feel anything but sorrow when her mom and sister were hurt so badly?
She and Jed exchanged a stare and he nodded as if telling her it was okay to be happy. He kissed the top of her head and left her alone to change.
An hour later, Jed escorted his younger daughters to the hospital. After that conversation with her father, Ellie felt better. She helped Jed tell Zoey the news over breakfast and for the first time in days, the two girls didn't bicker. Zoey had cried. Sobbed really. Jed held her in his lap, whispering comforting words and promising that he'd take her to see Lizzie.
As they crossed the main entrance to the hospital, Zoey walked behind her father. For a girl who often hurried through life, she was surprisingly subdued. Ellie guessed that her baby sister was afraid, just like she was. She held out a hand to the younger girl to help her catch up. Jed caught that interaction out of the corner of his eye; it reminded him what a good big sister Ellie was. He'd tell her later, he thought to himself, though he predicted she'd look back at him and tell him that if she was a good big sister, it was because Lizzie taught her how to be.
He loved his three girls and he cherished witnessing the bond between them as they grew up. His relationship with his own brother had been rocky and he often impressed upon his daughters how important the sibling relationship was. They were the only ones who'd know each other from cradle to grave, he'd say, and they were in a unique position to celebrate one another through life's best moments and support one another through the bleakest.
They took his words to heart, he liked to believe, because despite the age difference between them and the fighting from time to time, his girls were very close. If anything happened to Lizzie, it would not only destroy him and Abbey; it would destroy Ellie and Zoey as well.
Jed decided they'd visit the nursery first. He approached that wing of the floor and saw Doug through the glass. The new father struggled to hold his newborn daughter who wiggled and cried in his arms. That awkward first-time Dad hold, Jed thought with a smile and fond memories of his own struggles. He didn't hesitate to offer his help as they approached.
"Here, let me," he asked his son-in-law.
Doug immediately handed the baby over as if scared to hold her himself. "She keeps crying."
"That's what they do. She probably senses your discomfort."
"How can she know that?"
"Babies know everything." Jed bounced his granddaughter gently as he talked directly to her in a sweet, loving and calming tone. It took several minutes, but the baby stopped wailing. She cried softly instead as Jed continued to comfort her. He looked over at Doug then. "Pull up a chair."
Doug grabbed the rocking chair in the corner of the room. He sat down and put out his arms to cradle his daughter. Jed passed her over while tutoring him on the proper hold and support for her head and neck.
Quietly, Ellie watched the interaction from across the room. It was nice to see her father and brother-in-law getting along for once. She moved closer to get a good look at her niece, but before she could fully see her, she heard the commotion down the hall and turned to find her grandfather rushing toward them. He swung open the door.
"Lizzie's awake!"
Her eyes had barely opened and Liz mumbled for her baby. An ecstatic Mary grabbed her granddaughter's hand and James ran out to get the newborn from the nursery. Liz shook her head, rubbed at her tired eyes. She looked around the hospital room, the memories of the last 16 hours flooding her and she jerked in fear as a tearful Mary sat on the edge of her bed and shushed her, promising it was all going to be okay.
"Lizzie!" Zoey burst through the door and made a beeline for her sister, Ellie only a step behind.
"Thank you, God!" Jed leaned over his younger daughters to drop a kiss to Liz's forehead.
"Dad," she mumbled.
He saw the tears in her eyes and true to form, he reacted quickly to make her laugh. "We thought this drama queen act of yours was going to go on for weeks."
"DAD!" Ellie admonished him, but Liz laughed in spite of herself.
"Sick of Mom getting all the attention, eh?"
Liz never took her eyes off her father. No longer laughing and scared to ask the question, she replied with just one word. "Mom?"
Jed swallowed. "She's still in the ICU, angel. No news."
Doug snuck in then, holding the newest Bartlet girl. Liz sat up and he delivered their daughter to her arms. She'd been through so much in less than 24 hours that she didn't know if it was the physical or psychological strain that crushed her energy and left her feeling completely spent. But as she looked down, all she could focus on was the miracle in front of her - that beautiful baby girl who had inadvertently triggered such drama in the Bartlet household from the moment of conception was finally here.
And she was perfect.
Ellie and Zoey visited with their sister and newborn niece for hours. Jed finally sent them home with James and Mary, who reluctantly agreed to get some sleep at the farmhouse under the condition that Jed call with any news or change in Abbey's condition. Once everyone was gone, Jed allowed Doug and Liz some private time with their baby and he retreated to Abbey's room, where he'd spent the majority of his time since the accident.
The machines grew more annoying by the second and he knew he'd never forget that ominous beeping sound. He sat in the chair, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, as he spoke to his wife. He didn't say anything of consequence. He just held her hand and even told her that he was rambling, teased that if she was awake, she'd tell him to stay on track. He hoped and prayed that she was listening, that she could hear him at her side and know that she wasn't alone.
"Dad?"
Jed turned quickly to see Liz, still in a hospital gown, sitting in a wheelchair. Doug, who wheeled her in, left practically unnoticed.
"Lizzie, you should be resting!"
"Who can rest?" She looked at her mother. "You were talking to her."
"Yeah, I was. I just wanted her to know I'm here."
"Can she hear you?"
"I don't know, sweetheart. But I like to think she can."
Liz wheeled herself closer to Abbey's bed, but was afraid to touch her. "Hi, Mom. I'm here too." She looked back at her father. "So many machines."
"The doctor said they want to try to wean her tomorrow."
"What does that mean?"
"Off the ventilator. They will slowly try to remove it and hope that she can breathe on her own."
Dr. Greene stepped in the room then.
"Mr. Bartlet?"
Jed looked up.
"Please, call me Jed," he said. "This is my daughter, Elizabeth."
Dr. Greene addressed Liz, "Yes, you were in the car with her?"
"That's right," Liz said. "Is she going to be okay?"
"She's doing well actually."
"Of course she is." Jed smiled as he took her hand again. "She's a fighter, stubborn as hell. I'd give anything for her to wake up right now."
"Well, we've been tapering the sedatives, so she may very well start to stir."
"How long?"
"Maybe tonight."
Liz asked, "If she wakes up while still intubated, won't she be scared?"
"We'll keep her comfortable, I promise."
Jed addressed the doctor. "The longer she's intubated, the greater the risks with extubation. I know you know that; I just...have been reading." Dr. Greene nodded. "Any news on her tests? The imaging of her brain?"
"No acute abnormalities."
"So they were normal." It wasn't a question, but Jed could tell by Dr. Greene's expression, the answer was no. "What?"
"We didn't find anything that causes concern for immediate problems."
"What do you mean 'immediate' problems?" Liz asked. "I don't know what that means."
"I'm not concerned about the imaging. My main concern right now is stabilizing Abbey, helping her breathe on her own, and getting her out of the ICU."
Jed gave a nod. "So there's a more chronic problem?"
"In a sense. We can talk about it more when Abbey wakes up, but one of the things that we were looking for was bleeding in the brain, which can happen in a car accident due to the potential for head trauma."
"And?" Jed's voice caught in his throat. He didn't know if he could handle anymore bad news.
"There was no acute bleeding."
"So what did you find?"
"An aneurysm," Dr. Greene told him. "Did Abbey know she had an aneurysm?"
"No." Jed looked back at his wife, his eyes closed. He knew the dangers of an aneurysm, the risk of sudden rupture and in some cases, death.
"An aneurysm?" Just the word frightened Liz. "That's like a blood vessel that bursts, right?"
"It can. But it doesn't always. A lot of people have aneurysms they don't even know about."
"In my Mom's case?"
"It didn't burst, which is the good news."
"And the bad news?"
"How big is it?" Jed asked.
"It's relatively small. May not even need surgery."
Liz wiped a tear that trailed down her cheek. "Is it the reason she won't wake up?"
"No, not at all," Dr. Greene assured her with a sympathetic tilt of his head. "I don't think this has anything to do with the accident or Abbey's current condition. I only brought it up because I didn't want to lie to you and tell you the imaging was completely normal when it wasn't."
Jed took Abbey's hand. "I appreciate it."
"We can talk more about the aneurysm later."
"Is there anything to do right now?"
"No, everything that needs to be done is being done. Like I said, we've tapered her sedatives and we'll try to wean her in a bit. If her lungs can breathe on their own, we may be able to extubate tomorrow."
"And get her out of the ICU?"
"That's the goal."
Jed gave another nod as he thanked the doctor. Dr. Greene left the room then, leaving him to pace to the other side of the room and glance out the small window that looked out onto the hospital's flower garden.
"What's this?" Liz picked up the hardcover novel he'd left in his chair. A Thousand Pieces of Gold. Jed had picked it up from Abbey's nightstand when he went home to get the girls that morning.
"That's the book she was reading before..." he explained. "The bookmark is where she left off."
Liz opened it to the bookmark, the last page Abbey had been reading. "Were you reading it to her before I came in?"
"Earlier."
Liz felt the warm sting of tears again as she imagined her father reading to her mom. "If anything's going to wake her up, it'll be your voice."
He pulled up his chair again and opened the book, Liz sitting in the wheelchair beside him as they prepared for another long night.
TBC