Chapter 15

Noah sat on the leather sofa and stared at the monitors. His beautiful daughter Danielle had tubes and wires all over her body.

He watched the beeping of the monitor that told him her heart rate was ok. With each blip of the monitor, his anxiety relaxed only to increase in the next moment.

He could see Danielle’s mother through the glass. Talking to the nurses. That was her way of coping. Gathering information.

Noah just wanted to hover over his daughter, and wait. Wait until she was better.

Until her eyes opened.

And she could tell him herself what had happened.

They said she attempted suicide.

Noah didn’t believe it.

Couldn’t believe it.

He’d just spoken to her yesterday. While he was at Savannah’s. He’d said he would call her back and they could talk next week.

How was he to know that there might not be a next week?

Why hadn’t he heard the pain in her voice?

Why hadn’t he listened?

He reminded himself again that it wasn’t true. His daughter wouldn’t do that. It had to have been an accident. They had gotten it wrong. Or someone had done this to her. Heaven help the person who did this to her.

As soon as she opened her eyes and told him who did it.

There would be hell to pay.

He felt the tears running down his cheeks. He didn’t bother to wipe them away.

He had a missed call from his daughter this morning. But that was something he would have to think about later.

His soon to be ex-wife came back into the hospital room. Took one look at him and handed him a tissue.

“They said she should pull through,” she said.

“Should.” He focused on the monitors. Everything was stable. He pulled his gaze from the monitors long enough to focus on Claire’s face. “She will.”

“Yes,” Claire said. “She will.”

“Did you know about this? That she was in emotional pain?”

“I guess I had an idea.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You weren’t there, Noah.”

“It doesn’t matter. You have a phone.”

“You might recall that you don’t answer your phone when I call.”

Noah shifted back to watching the steady beep of the monitor. This wasn’t about Claire. He wouldn’t allow her to make it about herself.

This was about Danielle.

Claire had found her in Danielle’s bedroom. Thought she was asleep. An hour later, when she didn’t respond, she’d called the ambulance.

They said they found an empty bottle of Xanax and a half empty bottle of crown… and a two liter of cola.

Noah knew the crown belonged to him or had belonged to him before he left. The Xanax belonged to Claire. Someone had exposed Danielle to crown and coke.

So, together, he and Claire had done this to her.

In more ways than one.

He scooted his chair closer and took her small hand in his. The one thing he and Claire had done right. The one thing that prevented him from regretting his marriage to Claire. The only thing.

They had a meeting scheduled with a psychologist sometime that afternoon. Whenever she made her rounds.

Just yesterday, he’d urged Savannah to become a psychologist. Was it some connection with his daughter that had him needing that from the one person he would have trusted to take care of his daughter?

Whatever it took, he would get Danielle through this. He vowed to himself in that moment, he would make it right. No matter what.

With her hand gripped in his, he lay his head on the side of the bed and for the first time in over thirty-six hours, his body overruled his mind and he slept.

Noah woke in a panic. But Danielle was still lying in the bed, the monitors beeping, her hand in his. He gently unleashed her hand and rubbed his face. Looked around.

He was alone with her. No nurse. No Claire.

He leaned over and pressed his lips against her forehead. “Wake up,” he whispered. “Please wake up.”

He almost promised her he’d never leave again. But Savannah…

Please, not that. Don’t make me stay.

“You can come live with me,” he said, his eyes tearing up. His beautiful little girl was almost grown. By her standards, she was grown. She would be on her own soon.

Just don’t die.

He took his bottle of water to the sink and filled it with water. Not up to his usual standards, but this was not his usual scene.

He drank water. Paced.

Stared at the monitors.

A young woman, mid-thirties, knocked on the door. Smiled.

“Mr. Worthington?”

“Yes,” he said, taking a deep breath.

“I’m Tara. I’m a psychologist.” She held out her hand. He shook her hand.

“Come in,” he said, “Please take the chair.”

“Let me grab another one,” she said, turned back to the door and a moment later, returned with another chair.

Noah took the chair, sat it next to the one he’d been camped out in.

“How are you holding up?” she asked.

Noah shook his head. Felt the lump in his throat. “Not very well.”

“That’s understandable. Is there anything I can get you?”

He shook his head. Stared at Danielle.

“The doctor said it might be a few days before she wakes up.”

“They told me she might not,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“No one has said anything like that to me.”

Her voice was soothing. Calm.

Like Savannah.

“What can I do?” he asked.

“You can first of all, take care of yourself. When she wakes up, she’s gonna need you. A lot.”

He turned, met her gaze.

“Are you able to sleep on that couch?” She nodded toward the couch strewn with his bag, a pillow, and a blanket.

“I don’t know. I guess.”

“Then I suggest you get as much sleep as you can.”

“She might need something.”

“If she needs something, the nurses will know.”

He turned back stare at Danielle. At the monitors.

“This is not your fault.”

Noah’s mind couldn’t let go of the crown he’d left in the house.

“You didn’t know. Now that you know, you can do something.”

“What?”

“She’s going to need counseling. Counseling by herself, but also with you and your wife.”

“We’re divorcing.”

“I know. But you’re still her parents.”

“Poor kid.”

“No. She’s very fortunate. I spoke to Claire a few minutes ago. She’s willing to do what needs to be done. In spite of the divorce.”

“I’ll do anything.”

“You’ll need to be here for a while.”

“I can do that.”

Oh God. He had a new job. He had a new girlfriend. His life was crashing down around him.

Without Danielle, nothing else mattered. Not the job. Not even… Savannah. He turned his head so she couldn’t see the moisture in his eyes.

“You’re in a lot of pain right now.”

“I just need her to wake up.”

“She will Noah. Just don’t give up. I’ll be back tomorrow.” She handed him a business card. My cell number is on the back of this card. “Call me if you need anything at all.”

He needed to call Savannah. He needed to talk to Savannah.

He couldn’t talk to Savannah.

It was starting all over again.

Noah took the psychologist’s advice. Tara. Interesting name. One that people would remember. A nurse had brought him a warm blanket and he had slept through most of the night, waking only a couple of times to check on Danielle.

The sun slanted across his face, bringing him to a startled awakening.

Something was different.

He sat up. On alert now.

There were no nurses in the room. Danielle lay in her bed, the monitors beeping.

He stood up, went to stand next to her at the bed. Picked up her hand.

And she opened her eyes and looked at him.

“Danielle,” he said, putting his arms around her. “Baby, are you ok?”

“You’re here,” she said.

“Of course I’m here, Baby.”

Tears leaked from her eyes.

“How do you feel?”

“Not so good. Can I get some water?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I have to call a nurse. Don’t go anywhere.”

He rushed out the door, called, “She’s awake,” to no one in particular and bounced back into the room.

“There’s a button here somewhere,” he said, searching her wires. The nurse had shown it to him yesterday.

He mashed the button. “Somebody will come,” he said. “Are you ok?”

“I’m ok, Daddy.” She smiled and his heart melted.

A nurse stuck her head in the door, then returned shortly with two other nurses. They were joined by the doctor ten minutes later.

Noah watched as she was examined. He should probably call Claire.

Claire could wait. This was his moment with Danielle.

Hopefully, since he supposedly was the one who caused this whole thing, he could have a moment alone with his daughter to make things right.

After they all left, Noah went back to sit next to Danielle. “What happened, Baby?” he asked.

She turned her face away. Her chin trembled. “It was an accident.”

“It’s ok, Baby. We’ll figure it out.” He smoothed her hair back from her forehead.

She turned back. Took a deep breath. She looked so much better without the oxygen in her nose. “I feel good though,” she said. “Where’s mom?”

Noah took Danielle’s phone from her handbag in the nightstand and handed it to her. “You call her.”

It was an hour before Claire made it to the hospital room. Tara was there thirty minutes sooner.

She asked to meet with Noah and Claire alone.

Noah was reluctant to leave Danielle, but the nurse assured him that she would be ok. Besides they were just going to a room down the hall.

Tara sat facing the two of them. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” Claire said.

“Relieved,” Noah said.

“You’re very fortunate,” she said.

They agreed.

“Danielle is a very emotionally troubled young woman.”

“But…” Noah said. “She’s ok now.”

“She tried to take her own life.”

Noah sat up straight, ready to defend his daughter. “But she’s ok now.”

“She’s very emotionally distressed,” Tara repeated.

Noah felt ill. Looked toward the door. He should get back to her.

“Not at this very moment,” Tara told him. “But she needs to be in an inpatient clinic.”

Noah couldn’t think. Tara kept talking.

“There’s a good inpatient hospital in Dallas. I’ll make a phone call and have her transferred there as soon as she’s released from the hospital here.”

“No,” Claire said. “I don’t want my daughter to be put in a nut house.”

“It’s not a nut house,” Tara said. “It’s a reputable psychiatric facility. They’ll do a full evaluation, start her on antidepressant medication, and she’ll go through both individual and group therapy sessions.

“I won’t do it,” Claire said.

Tara focused on Noah. “Tara will be eighteen shortly, so we’ll put her in the adult unit.”

“Why?” Noah asked.

“It’s common for people who attempt suicide to feel euphoric after the attempt. Danielle just woke up, but I fully expect this to happen. She’s already saying that she feels better.”

Noah nodded. “She told me she feels better.”

“After the euphoria wears off, she’ll try again.”

“Try again? You mean attempt suicide again?”

“Yes. And many people are successful on their second attempt.”

“Oh my God,” Claire said.

“I’m not saying this to alarm you. I’m saying this to let you know how crucial it is that she receive the best care possible. You want your daughter to have the best care, don’t you?” Her gaze was locked on Noah.

Noah glanced at Claire. He knew Claire would fight this to the bitter end. She’d rather have a dead daughter than a daughter who was in the “nut house.” This didn’t surprise him. He knew the importance of social appearances to her.

“We don’t have to tell anyone where she is,” Noah said. “No one has to know.”

“How are they not going to know?” Her voice was verging on hysterical. “They already know she’s in the hospital.”

“You say she’s at a retreat,” Tara suggested. “Or on a trip to Europe to rest and recover.”

Claire appeared to consider this option.

“I know you both love your daughter dearly.”

Noah nodded. “I’ll do anything for her.”

“Good,” Tara said. “Because I’m gonna need you both to be available every day to meet with her and her therapist for the next few weeks.”

Noah knew this was what had to be done. He didn’t even mention his new job. He would call Sam and explain the situation. Unlike Claire, Noah did not have qualms about anyone knowing that his daughter needed help.

Tara went back to Danielle’s room with them and explained her plan to Danielle.

Noah sat on the couch and watched his daughter cry and resist. “I’m not crazy,” she said. “I promise I won’t do it again.”

So much for his hope that someone had tried to kill her. That would have so much easier to solve. Now he had no one to beat up on except himself.

After a while, Danielle realized she had no choice in the matter.

And cried herself to sleep.

Claire went to the window and stared outside.

“Can you stay?” she asked. “I’m supposed to meet the girls for lunch.”

Noah stared blankly at her. He had actually married this woman. Had given her so many good years of his life.

“Before you go,” he said, “we need to talk.” He patted the couch next to him.

Surprise on her face, she sat. Waited.

“Let’s talk about your email,” he said.

“Oh that. I had forgotten all about it.”

“What was that about?”

“I just thought we should stay together for Danielle’s sake.”

“When you wrote that, you knew she was struggling.”

“I did.”

“Then it really had nothing to do with you having feelings for me.”

Her lips twitched in that way that meant she had so much to say, but would say nothing.

“We’re not getting back together,” he said.

“What about Danielle?”

“Danielle will get through this. She’ll have divorced parents like all her friends. She’ll get past it.”

“What about…”

Noah ran his hands over his face. “What about what, Claire? What about what you’ll tell your friends? Tell them you’re divorced. You’ll be the topic of conversation for a minute, then no one will care anymore. They’ll forget all about you. Maybe you’ll even find someone who meets your standard and get married again. I hope you do.” He stood up. Walked around to the other side of the bed.

“Go,” he said. “I’ll stay here with Danielle. We’ll work out a schedule when you get back so we’re not here at the same time. I wish you well.”

Finished with his tirade, he watched his soon to be ex-wife quietly gather up her Gucci bag and, with a flip of her blonde hair, kissed her sleeping daughter on the cheek, and walked through the door. She told the nurse good-bye as they passed in the hallway.

But no word to her husband. No thank you for sitting with our daughter while I go have a nice lunch. No wish you well, too.

Nothing.

Noah went back to his chair and sat down.

Such was the way of his life for the last twenty years.

The nurse walked in, took one look at him. “Are you ok, hon?” she asked.

Noah looked up at her. Smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “Actually I am.”