Chapter Fifty-Five
Emily desperately hugged her mother and sobbed. Monica's stricken face betrayed her worry as she gently stroked Emily's hair and held her. Emily struggled to speak in between her sobs as she repeatedly drew in gulps of air, saying a few words, then weeping. "I should have…known…I talked…to… him a few…days ago."
"Oh honey. There was no way you could have known. These situations are unpredictable."
"But, Mom, he told me he wasn't feeling well. Why didn't I know something was wrong?"
"That's pretty vague," stated Monica. "He had the flu for all you knew."
Emily quickly separated from Monica and sat up, fiercely wiping away her copious tears. "That's what I said to him. That maybe he was sick with the flu or still stressed out about the dinner." Emily remained silent for a minute, trying to recall their full conversation. Her eyes opened widely and her face lost color. She placed a shaking hand to her open mouth. "Mom! Ohmigod, ohmigod."
Monica rubbed Emily's back. "What, honey?"
"Lucky said no one could help him. He knew he wanted to kill himself. He was trying to tell me, and I didn't hear him." Emily started shaking. "Nooooo," she wailed. Monica gathered her daughter in her arms and held her while Emily continued to cry brokenheartedly.
~*~*~*~
Next day…
A bent old man walked cautiously down the hallway of the GH psychiatric wing, completely hidden by the immense floral arrangement that he carried, arms shaking with the weight of the generous riot of flowers. Periodically, he peeped around the flowers to orient himself and to avoid a collision. The man finally made it to the nurse's station and rested the flowers on the countertop. He pulled out an elegant handkerchief monogrammed with "EQ" and wiped a few drops of sweat from his brow. He frowned and asked a nurse for Lucky Spencer's room. The nurse recited the number and pointed in the general direction of the room.
Edward Quartermaine picked up the floral arrangement again and proceeded on to Lucky's room. He placed the flowers on the wood veneer nightstand next to Lucky's bed. The flowers reached three feet high into the air and injected the room with a heavy floral scent and a flame of color and texture.
Lucky was asleep, his eyes closed, and his breathing shallow and regular. He was still connected to the cardiac monitor, and an IV regularly dripped fluids, antibiotics and glucose into his veins. The room had an eerie feel because he was so still, like a corpse connected to a bunch of machines. Only his chest rose and fell with regularity. He never moved his hands, limbs or head.
Edward pulled up a chair and started on one of his famous soliloquies, secure in having a captive audience.
"Young man, we all would like to take a vacation, but it is time to get back to work. The longer you decide to sleep away the day, the more ground Bill Gates gains. Why, just yesterday he earned another $2.3 million in interest. You don't want to play catch-up all your life, do you?"
Edward paused and looked at Lucky, whose facial expression remained stony. He pointed to the humongous floral arrangement that dominated the room. "You need to wake and smell the roses or orchids or forsythia…whatever all those flowers are."
Edward leaned over and broke off a red carnation. "My granddaughter loved those carnations that you sent her. It's all she talked about for days. Here, take this one for Emily." He placed the carnation under Lucky's cast.
"And don't think you're going to avoid learning how to play golf. We'll have you showing up Tiger Woods in no time. The Quartermaines have their own putting green at the country club. You can practice every Saturday from 8 to 11AM."
Edward poked Lucky in the leg. "You do rise early I hope. No one ever became successful lying about in bed." He made a disgusted face. "That's Alan and Monica's problem - too much time spent in bed, not enough time on their careers. But, I've been watching you, boy. You're not lazy - you make opportunities for yourself. If life hands you lemons, you make…um…. iced tea."
Edward's face softened as he gazed at Lucky. "You get better, Lorenzo. That's an order. Everyone listens to Edward Quartermaine. You'll learn that."
Edward pulled a round, white object from his jacket pocket. He took Lucky's right hand and arranged it palm side up. Edward placed the golf ball in the middle of Lucky's palm and wrapped the boy's fingers around the ball, patting the newly closed hand with satisfaction. "There," he said. "This will give you incentive to recover quickly. Look forward to an all-day golf lesson with Edward Quartermaine."
Edward rose from his chair and walked toward the door. He stood at the doorway with a solemn look on his face for several minutes, then turned and headed out to the hallway. He walked purposefully toward the nurse's station and addressed two nurses in a loud, commanding voice. "I am Edward Quartermaine," he intoned gravely. "I expect you to take excellent care of Lucas Lorenzo Spencer Junior in room 2B." He glared fiercely at them with bright eyes and wagged an arthritic finger in their direction. "And that's an order," he huffed as he turned to walk away.
As the old man sauntered down the hall, the two nurses looked in his direction with stunned expressions on their faces. After a minute, they turned toward each other and burst into laughter. "What was THAT?" one nurse asked the other.
~*~*~*~
Emily entered her bedroom and placed the gray jewelry store bag on her bed. She slipped off her shoes and hopped onto the bed, sitting Indian style on the brightly colored, Monet print duvet. She grabbed the bottom of the bag and tilted it, spilling the contents onto the bed. Her fingers gently picked up the two silver necklaces, and she placed the pendants into her palm, joining the two pieces together as one. She smiled as the zigzagged grooves of the two hearts interlocked perfectly. "One for Lucky and one for me," she whispered.
~*~*~*~
"What's this?" asked the nurse out loud as she tended to Lucky. She opened his palm and picked up the golf ball, turning it in her fingers and laughing. "You must be a golf player, and somebody left you a good luck token." She placed the ball on the stand next to the voluminous flower arrangement. "You can have the flower," she stated, shaking her head at the sight of the red carnation under Lucky's arm cast.
"Your temperature is up three degrees," she said worriedly. She moved aside Lucky's gown and examined his wound. "That doesn't look good," she said. After checking his cardiac readings, she left his room and placed a call to Dr. Ramsey.
~*~*~*~
As Chris Ramsey examined Lucky, the boy lay still with a flushed face and perspiration coating his forehead, making his hair cling to the side of his face. Chris looked at the nurse and said, "His temp is 101, and his cardiac monitor is indicating an increased heart rate. This wound is not healing properly. He needs to have it cleaned out and restitched, and I'm ordering a new topical antibiotic."
The nurse spoke up hesitantly. "Dr. Ramsey, I think he's in pain. I know he can't communicate verbally, but he looks different to me somehow, like he's strained or anxious."
Chris looked closely at Lucky and nodded. "He has two trauma injuries and no order for pain medication. It's conceivable that he's experiencing pain in some level of his consciousness. We can take care of that." Chris continued to make a few notes on Lucky's chart. "Here's an order for a pain med. Arrange for him to be transported to an exam room so the wound can be cleaned."
~*~*~*~
Emily took an after-dinner walk with Monica. The two were bundled up with plenty of boots, mittens, scarves and hats.
"It feels so good to get out of that house sometimes," said Monica, her breath making white puffs in the frigid air.
Emily rubbed her arms as she adjusted her pace to match Monica's. "I'm so sick of AJ lately. He gets on my nerves. He's always baiting dad or grandfather, then he leaves the table and the rest of us have to deal with the bad moods."
Monica nodded. "He's an adult, but he needs to grow up," she admitted. "I wish I could have gotten him out of that house and into his own place and his own life. He'd be a lot happier that way. But, your father and Edward insist on having the whole family live together - kind of like those Ewings on that old Dallas soap opera. Only we don't have that nice Texas climate," she complained. "Brrrrr…let's walk a little faster, Emily. It's good for the heart."
"Mom," said Emily breathlessly. "I want to visit Lucky tomorrow. I know you're worried that I'm going to be upset, but I'll be more upset if I can't see him. Besides, I bought him something for hope and good luck."
"What did you buy him?" Monica asked.
"A necklace," said Emily brightly. "One of those cut-up pendants where it's split between two people with half a pendant per necklace, but put together it makes one heart. It's my way of letting him know that he has my heart, and I have his. We have one heart together."
"Lucky is scheduled for his first ECT session tomorrow, Emily. I'll be attending, so I can call you and let you know how it went. I'd rather see for myself how he is doing before I give you permission to see him. Do you understand?"
"I guess so," Emily said in a disappointed tone of voice. "I need to see him, mom. I love him," she protested in a teary voice.
"I know, honey," said Monica. "I'll get you in to see him as soon as I can. I promise."
"I am almost an adult, you know," Emily reminded her mom.
"I can see that," replied Monica. "And pretty soon you'll be a minority in the Quartermaine mansion. An adult among the aged children."
~*~*~*~
Tony Jones walked down the hallways of GH with a short, balding man who was wearing black pants, black shirt and a white collar.
"Thank you for coming, Pastor Walker," said Tony.
"I saw his name on the roster and remembered the young man with the excellent tenor." Bob Walker chuckled. "My wife's the choir director - she's had her eye on him, looking for an opportunity to ask him to join the choir. His name is not common, so I put two and two together."
Tony nodded. "He's very musical among his other talents. Right now, he needs all of our help, including prayer, to get back to the young man we all know and love."
"How long has he been ill?" asked Pastor Welker.
"He's been in the hospital since Christmas for his breakdown," replied Tony. "But, he was kidnapped several years ago and held prisoner and tortured for a year before they released him. He's been struggling to cope ever since."
"I make my hospital visitations twice a week," said Pastor Walker. "I'll stop by and pray with him when I'm here. We have a strong prayer group in the church, and I'll also place his name on the list as well as keep him in my personal prayers."
"That means a lot to me," said Tony. "Thanks."
~*~*~*~
Tony walked into Lucky's room, followed by Pastor Walker. He placed a hand on Lucky's arm. "Lucky, it's Tony. Pastor Walker is here. He wants to pray with you." Tony turned and looked at the pastor.
Pastor Walker took Lucky's right hand and said, "Hi Lucky. I'm Pastor Bob Walker. You remember me -- I'm the one with the boring sermons. I'm sorry you're not feeling well." The pastor laid Lucky's hand back down on the bed, drew a small vial from his pocket and held it up. "This is olive oil," he explained to Tony.
The pastor opened the stopper to the bottle and poured a small amount onto his fingertips. He bent over Lucky and with his oiled index finger drew the sign of the cross on Lucky's forehead. He spoke aloud, praying,
"O God, the strength of the weak and
the comfort of sufferers:
Mercifully hear our prayers and grant to your servant, Lucky Spencer, the help of your
power, that his sickness may be turned into health and our sorrows into joy."
The pastor placed the vial of oil back into his pocket and continued praying, making a sign of the cross over Lucky's still, prone body as he prayed.
"Heavenly Father, have mercy on all your children who live in mental distress. Restore them to strength of mind and cheerfulness of spirit, and give them health and peace through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."
The pastor opened his bible and turned to
the book of Psalms, reading several passages aloud. As he read the words of scripture,
Tony's eyes filled with tears, and he felt the strong assurance that Lucky was in the
hands of a merciful God. He felt a calm, peace and strength that he didn't have when he
first entered the room.
Next...