The Closer Page 17

  Moments later, he rushed out the door.

  It took Terry much longer to reach her than he'd hoped. The morning rush hour traffic crossing the bridge into San Francisco was very heavy. Although he had no problem locating the hospital (he'd driven by it several times while taking the kids to or from school), he did have trouble finding her room because the hospital was so spread out, with a couple of areas under construction.

  When he finally did get to her, he was even more alarmed than earlier. Asleep, she looked pale and lifeless, much like Carly after her overdose. He sat down in a chair next to her bed. Eventually, she opened her eyes and smiled faintly at him.

  "Feeling okay?" he began with the questions he would like to have asked during their phone conversation.

  "Not so good."

  "The attack? Was it bad?"

  "Bad. The worst one yet."

  "When did it happen?" he probed on, since she seemed to be getting more alert.

  "Middle of the night."

  "Why didn't you call me?"

  "I tried. You must have been flying. So I called my brother."

  "Oh."

  "He lives close. Came right over and got me to emergency."

  "Are you in danger now?"

  "No. No longer."

  "The kids okay?" he altered direction a little.

  "Steven took them to school."

  He nodded. He detected hoarseness in her voice, as if talking was becoming difficult. So he gave her a break. He noticed she had on a white robe, obviously furnished by the hospital. For some reason, he thought about her yellowish-green housecoat, and considered offering to go get it and bring it here.

  "Baseball today?" she interrupted his thoughts with her own question.

  "No. Not until tomorrow night."

  "Want to pick up the kids from school?"

  "Sure."

  "And stay in the house tonight?"

  "Sure."

  "Use my bed."

  "I can sleep in the living room on the couch."

  "No. I insist. Use my bed."

  He didn't argue. Really, she'd probably never find out where he'd slept anyway. He considered asking her when she might be released from the hospital, but she closed her eyes. She was soon asleep again.

  He watched her and observed how peaceful she looked. Eventually, a female orderly entered the room. He got up from the chair, kissed Lauren on the cheek, and went out into the hallway.

  Terry had no further luck whatsoever conversing with Lauren before he had to leave to pick up the children. All she did was sleep. Most of the time he simply sat there, watching her. She hardly even stirred, except for the two or three occasions that he kissed her cheek again, whenever he left the room.

  He stopped at the nurses' station once to try and find out more about her condition. When she might be released. The head nurse, a very short woman whose right arm was in a sling, was completely noncommittal. Especially since he wasn't a family member. And her grave expression certainly didn't provide him any optimism.

  On his way to the school, her brother came to mind. Certainly he, being a doctor, would give him some solid information.

  "Doesn't look like your mama will be home tonight," Terry told the three kids.

  "We know," Karen said glumly. "Uncle Steven told us."

  Terry nodded. They had put in their order at a pizza parlor, and had just sat down at a table. Under the circumstances, Terry didn't have the heart to deny Tammy's usual request. Especially, he pondered while grinning inwardly, if it meant she might offer him some "much needed" parenting advice.

  "What about some video games while we wait for our pizza?" he suggested.

  "Oh, no," Karen stated. "Mama always makes us do our homework before we play."

  "Okay...you know she wants me to stay with you tonight."

  "All night?" Tammy bubbled.

  "So I can take you to school tomorrow morning..."

  "Can you help me with my homework like Mommy does?" she pretty well ignored his explanation.

  "I can try."

  "Mine too?" Billy asked.

  "What about mine?" Karen of course required equal treatment.

  "I don't know,” Terry chuckled. "Tammy's kindergarten might be the limit of my ability."

  Terry did reach Steven late that afternoon. He was almost as noncommittal as the head nurse had been. Yes, she'd had by far her worst attack. And the others had been pretty bad. How long would she remain in the hospital? Possibly for a while, if for no other reason than for close observation.

  "What about the kids?" Terry asked.

  "Lauren said you might stay overnight whenever you can."

  "I will."

  "Otherwise they can stay with me. But I usually work late."

  "We're home for the rest of our schedule," Terry volunteered. "They can go to the games and sit in the players' wives and families' section."

  "Good,” Steven said.

  And then Steven excused himself to go back to work.

  Getting into bed that night, Terry felt very strange. Certainly not because her bed had any unusual characteristics, since it didn't. And certainly not because he wasn't sleeping in his own bed in the bungalow. After all, with so many hotel rooms populating his lengthy baseball history, he'd probably slept in over a thousand assorted beds.

  No, his discomfort had much more to do with Lauren herself. The fact that he was in love with her. The fact that the two of them had slept in this bed together, if only once and very briefly, and he missed her.

  Much earlier, he'd taken the kids to see her. With pretty much the same result of his earlier visit, since she was so tired. Following a few hugs, kisses and tears, they spent most of the time simply watching her sleep. They ended up not staying terribly long.

  Lying there now, tossing and turning, he did achieve a smile when he recalled what happened before the hospital. The "homework venture." Fortunately, kindergarten was within his grasp. And he avoided any verdict regarding higher grades by begging off to reheat the pizza they hadn't eaten at the parlor.

  For probably an hour, he remained in Lauren's bed, continuing to toss and turn. Finally, when it became apparent he wasn't about to fall asleep, he got up and went into the living room. He lay down on the couch, where he and Lauren had sat so many times.

  Almost instantly, he fell asleep.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  "How's Carly and Joshua?" Terry asked Murdoch over the phone, after dropping off the children at school.

  "Come over and see for yourself."

  "Can I bring some company?"

  "Definitely,” Murdoch answered buoyantly.

  "The kids wear you out?" Lauren asked.

  "We did fine,” Terry replied.

  "Tammy get her pizza?"

  "How'd you know?"

  "Not exactly rocket science," she smiled.

  He smiled back. He was happy with the way she looked this morning. Still very pale, but certainly much better than yesterday and last night, and she seemed much more alert.

  "What about later?" she asked.

  "Later?"

  "For the kids."

  "I'll take them to our game," he informed her. "Some of the players' wives will keep an eye on them."

  She nodded. He considered telling her about his conversation with Steven. That between the two of them, they could manage. A nurse came in the room then, though.

  "I can't blame you if you're scared," she said the instant the nurse left, while sitting up a little in bed.

  "Scared? About what?"

  "About the kids. About me. About all this stuff." For emphasis, she extended the palm of her hand out toward the hospital room.

  "I'm not scared," he insisted.

  Actually he had become a little scared this morning. The responsibility. The newness (promptly reinforced by his having to oversee three youngsters getting ready for school). And of course her condition. But he wasn't about to admit to any of it. Especially with her showing such improvement.
>
  "I can't blame you if you turn it down," she spoke seriously.

  "Turn what down?"

  "My proposal."

  "What proposal?" he asked.

  "The one you keep accusing me of making," she grinned.

  Finally, he caught on that she was referring to the subject of marriage. Possibly his dullness could be attributed to all that had happened lately. All that was happening now.

  "When?" was all he could muster.

  "Might be a good idea to move quickly. These attacks...they keep coming."

  "When?" he repeated, more eagerly.

  "I don't want to interfere with baseball in any way. I thought at the end of your season, but I'm not so sure we should wait."

  "We have an off day Monday," he said even more eagerly.

  "Monday," she began counting on her fingers. "Three days. Should give me enough time for the arrangements. Ever been married in a hospital?"

  "Hospital!" he exclaimed. "You mean the wedding'll be here."

  "Already got permission from management. They're okay with it as long as I stay in bed."

  "Wow!" he managed.

  "I've already started preparations."

  "You're amazing," he uttered. "Flat on your back..."

  "Steven said he'd help."

  "What can I do?"

  "What you're doing. Looking after the kids. Just make sure all of you are here."

  He nodded and smiled.

  "Promise me something," she went on.

  "Sure."

  "Promise me that none of this—the wedding, me, the kids—that none of this interferes with baseball in any way."

  "I promise."

  "Tell me."

  "I promise," he raised his right hand mockingly, as though he was reciting an oath. "I promise that none of this will interfere with baseball."

  "Oh...and Terry," she added as apparent afterthought. "Wear that nice coat and tie to the wedding. The one you wore on our Saturday night date."

  He smiled again.

  The "company" Terry referred to during his phone conversation with Murdoch was of course Billy, Karen and Tammy. The visit to Murdoch's apartment had gone well so far. As at Carly's drug program graduation, the kids were transfixed by tiny Joshua. In fact, they had spent nearly the entire hour of the visit playing on the floor with him, and with Carly.

  "Well, kids, time for us to leave,” Terry said while getting up off the living room couch.

  "They could stay here with Joshua and me, Uncle Terry,” Carly offered. "While you and Dad go to your game. There's plenty of food in the fridge."

  He looked at the children, still on the floor. All three nodded, indicating preference to stay. He headed for the door. Carly joined him there.

  "Lauren called earlier, Uncle Terry. Dad's taking Joshua and me to visit her tomorrow."

  "Nice."

  "She going to be okay?"

  "She's much better today."

  "She told me about your plans. Congratulations."

  "Goes for me too,” Murdoch echoed her sentiment.

  "The kids..." Terry said softly to Carly. "You seem to like them."

  "Of course I do. They're Lauren's."

  "I'll be here to pick them up right after the game."

  "Uncle Terry, if you or Lauren ever need help with them..."

  "Thanks."

  "Goes for me too,” Murdoch seconded.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Terry was amazed at how smoothly the wedding went. As if plans had been underway for months instead of merely a few days, every detail was meticulously attended to. All he had to do, as Lauren had insisted, was show up with the children. And of course wear the same brown coat and tie he'd worn for their only "real date" in their nearly six month history.

  The hospital room was decorated remarkably, with flowers, trees and shrubbery. Almost as though the ceremony was taking place outside, in a lovely garden. Lauren's bed fit the decor, with bedspread and pillowcases in elaborate floral design.

  Steven conducted the wedding. As a doctor, he'd gotten special permission from appropriate officials. Murdoch was Terry's best man. Rick was the father figure who presented the bride, although in this case all he did was stand beside her, since she never left the bed.

  Carly, Karen and Tammy served as bridesmaids. They had helped Lauren into a beautiful white gown before the other participants arrived. Little Joshua, ably assisted by Billy, performed as ring bearer.

  Once Steven pronounced Terry and Lauren husband and wife, Terry bent over the bed and kissed his new bride. All the others applauded.

  "Kiss Mommy again,” Tammy grinned at Terry once everyone except his new family had gone.

  "Oh, you like that," he replied, also grinning.

  "So does Mommy."

  "How do you know?"

  "She told us."

  Lauren—back in hospital clothing—looking weary by then, also looked embarrassed. Unable to tell how she felt about Tammy's request, he chose the safe response of kissing her forehead. When she didn't resist, he put his arms around her and kissed her lips. Predictably, led by Tammy, the children applauded.

  "Now," Lauren said, still looking embarrassed, "time for all of you to leave."

  The children groaned.

  "School tomorrow," she chided.

  Another groan.

  "Have you done your homework?"

  That got a different reaction. The children walked to the door, Terry following. But he paused, then went back to his new wife to say good bye. At the bed, he observed that her eyes were closed and her breathing was deep. No question, she was asleep already.

  He touched her hand briefly, and then headed for the door again.

  Much later, after the children had been in bed for quite a while, Terry went into their rooms and checked them. They were all asleep. Then he slipped out of the house and returned to the hospital. No way should Lauren be alone her entire wedding night, without at least a visit from her new husband.

  He found her as he'd left her—asleep. He held her hand. Twice he kissed her forehead. He even lay on top of the bed with her, briefly. She stirred several times, but didn't wake.

  He remained perhaps two hours before returning home. After getting there, he promptly checked the children again. They were still asleep.

  Terry didn't even try Lauren's bed that night. It almost seemed unfaithful to sleep in his bride's bed on their wedding night, with her not there. Instead, he went to the living room couch.

  He didn't have much luck falling asleep there either. The wedding repeatedly flashed through his mind. He kept seeing Lauren in her beautiful white gown, confined to bed, looking very frail. It didn't seem fair. A young woman, with what should have been a whole new life ahead, possibly so close to the end.

  He tried to focus on being more positive. Maybe she'd soon get over this particular bout and come home. Maybe once she got here and they could start living together, she'd find new energy to begin a full recovery.

  It was certainly something to hope for.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  It was the top of the seventh. Final scheduled game of the season, against Detroit. Oakland led 6-0, on a pair of Murdoch three-run homers. A win clinched the wild card, despite New York's victory earlier this afternoon. Opening game of the playoffs would be in Cleveland, in two days.

  Terry sat in the left field bullpen, by himself at one end of the bench. Earlier, it had crossed his mind several times that maybe he shouldn't be here, at the stadium. Not this soon anyhow. Not with the memorial service for Lauren just last evening. But then, hadn't Lauren made it clear that she didn't want to interfere with baseball in any way?

  He gazed up into the grandstand behind him, toward where the players' wives, families and guests sat. This being Sunday, no school, Billy, Karen and Tammy were there. Sitting with Carly and Joshua.

  Terry glanced at Murdoch nearby, in left field. Murdoch had attended the memorial service with Carly and Joshua. Afterward, he had pulled Terry
aside and emphasized that he and Carly were serious about helping him with the children.

  Terry looked up at the kids again. Although he knew they were sad, he thought he saw Tammy smile at him. Carly too. He wondered whether Murdoch would ever tell Carly that he, Terry, wasn't her real uncle. Or whether he already had told her. Not that it mattered. What mattered was she had obviously altered her life, and was clearly an entirely different person than the one he'd first met that night in Hollywood.

  He turned toward the third base dugout and barely managed to spot Rick in one corner. He'd also attended the service, and had given Terry a hug both before and after. The first time they'd ever exchanged any significant physical affection. Causing Terry to flash back to his own father. In many ways, hadn't Rick assumed that role?

  Other memories remained from the service. His own incredible sorrow, which had been constant ever since Lauren's passing. All three kids breaking down. And his own response to it—that despite their reaction, he knew Lauren had prepared them well for this day.

  Yes, as he sat there on the bullpen bench, these memories were strong. But there was a memory that was much more vivid than any from the service. He and Lauren were in her hospital room alone at about 3 a.m. on her last night. He was holding her hand while she slept, when she took her final labored breath. A moment he knew would always be with him.

  Afterward, numb, he'd returned to the sleeping children. Once more now, he glanced up at them in the grandstand. This time he thought all three smiled back.

  His gaze returned to the field. To the splendidly manicured grass. Surrounded by the colossal stadium outlined in green and gold. Everything looked just the same as that first time, about five months ago, when he first came to the majors.

  Five months? Was that all the time that had passed? It seemed more like five years.

  Much earlier today, long before the game began, Rick had approached him. He informed him that he wouldn't be calling on him to pitch this afternoon. Out of respect for Lauren. Terry disagreed, and had adamantly conveyed his feelings to Rick.