More Than Friends Read Online Free PDF Page B

to use that word around your wife, though. She's frightened enough already." That was Teke's problem. J.D. didn't have the time for hand holding, much less the inclination. Annie would help her. "What can be done to bring Michael around?"
    "Not much right now. We have him stabilized. He's breathing. He's getting fluids. We've minimized any pain he might feel. Now we wait."
    "For complications?" J.D. asked.
    "Or improvement."
    "What complications might there be?"
    The doctor didn't hesitate. "Pressure on the brain from bleeding. Fluid buildup in the lungs. A blood clot traveling through the system. One of the reasons we're monitoring him so closely is to detect any of those."
    "Do you detect brain activity?"
    "He's definitely with us, if that's what you're wondering. As for how much of him is, we won't know
    that for a while." He looked past J.D. and nodded. "I have a phone call. Will you excuse me?" He was gone before J.D. could ask what "a while" meant, and how long the doctor would be at the hospital, and, when he left, where he could be reached.
    Then the rest of the medical personnel filed out of Michael's room, and J.D. felt a swift chill. "Is he all right?"
    "He's holding his own," was the answer.
    J.D. stared at the pale figure on the bed. He entered the room, feeling unsure and, in that, more unsettled than ever. He and Michael didn't always agree on things, but they had a sound relationship. He normally knew how to act.
    The problem was that the Michael lying on the bed didn't seem like his Michael at all. This one was unmoving as his Michael seldom was. This one was colorless, save for a purpling bruise on the side of his face. This one was quiet.
    Teke came up on the far side of the bed. Grasping the rail for support, she looked down at Michael.
    J.D. felt a stab of anger. Teke was in charge of the kids. She was supposed to keep them from harm. "How did this happen?" he asked in a harsh whisper.
    She raised one shoulder and shook her head.
    "What was he doing home in the middle of the day?" Her voice wobbled. "He wanted money for a concert."
    "So you gave it to him, then let him run into a truck?" She waved a shaky hand.
    J.D. wasn't sure what that meant. "You didn't give it to him? He raced back out because you said no and he was angry?"
    "I never spoke with him."
    "Why not?"
    She rubbed Michael's arm.
    "He came into the house, Teke. Why didn't you speak to him?"
    "He ran back out before I ever saw him."
    "Did he change his mind about asking?"
    She touched Michael's face. Her voice was higher than normal, and shaky. "Hi, baby. Can you hear me? Can you hear me, Michael? It's Mommy."
    J.D. was furious. Someone had to take responsibility for his son being hurt. "They shouldn't have let him leave school."
    "They didn't know," Teke said softly. "He stole out with the twins."
    "What does our tax money go for, if not to have the schools look out for our children?"
    "It was lunchtime."
    "Is that supposed to excuse it?"
    "The kids mill around during lunch. It's impossible to keep tabs on them all."
    "Someone must have seen him run off."
    She sighed. "It's not a prison, J.D. There aren't guards posted in watchtowers."
    "Of course there aren't," he said, resentful of her sarcasm, "but this is a clear-cut case of negligence. That school was responsible for our child during the time we left him there."
    "He broke the rules," she cried. In the next breath she lowered her voice and stroked Michael's cheek. "He's a good boy. If he left school, it was because he felt it was important."
    "So now he lies in a hospital bed breathing through a machine."
    "Shhhh."
    "Doesn't it make you angry?" J.D. asked in frustration.
    "I just want Michael to get better," she whispered tearfully. "I think we should concentrate on that."
    J.D. studied Michael's face. He wanted the boy to get better, too, but he couldn't be as passive as Teke. Or as forgiving. Accidents didn't happen for no reason. He wanted the driver of the truck punished. And the