When the port came into view, Graham headed back to his car. The windows had fogged over, which led him to believe his parents had argued while he was gone. Growing up, his father never uttered a nasty word toward his mother. That all changed after the accident.
At first, Johanna catered to Grady. She coddled him. She made his breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Did his laundry, cleaned up his messes, and sat outside the bathroom door while her son threw up the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed hours before. She spent hours on the phone with Graham, crying, asking her son repeatedly why this happened to their family. They were good people, never caused harm to others. And yet, everything fell apart around them. Graham had never had an answer, and he never would.
George, on the other hand, spent hours at the bar with his son. When he wasn’t working, he sat on the stool next to Grady. In George’s mind, he helped Grady cope the best way he knew how and refused to believe he enabled his son in any way. He was his friend. They were best buds. A voice of reason wasn’t what Grady needed at that time. He had lost his best friend in a tragic and traumatic accident, barely surviving himself. Grady needed support, and George provided it, pint after pint.
The Chamberlains each saw their son in a vastly different light. Johanna wanted her son in rehab. George denied Grady had a problem.
Back on the road, Johanna tried to make small talk. Graham would answer and offer an opinion, but George stayed silent. Every so often, Graham would look at his father in the rearview mirror and try to figure out what the man thought. Was he scared? Was reality finally setting in? Graham wanted to know, but there was no way George would express his feelings. He wasn’t that sort of man.
An hour later, Graham pulled into the parking lot of Port Angeles General. The hospital was new and looked practically like a shopping center. It wasn’t one of those monstrosities you would find in a big city but a two-floor, well-designed building with a view of the mountains. Regardless of its facade, it was a hospital, and they had been summoned there because something happened to Grady.
Inside the main entrance, Graham went to the reception desk and gave the woman his name and told her he was there to see his brother. She asked the names of the other two people in his party and typed them into the computer. Name tags printed out of the machine, and she handed them to Graham.
“Go down this hall, and take the elevator on your right to the second floor. When you get to ICU, press the button on the intercom, and give them your name.”
“ICU?” Johanna asked. “What’s wrong with my son?” Her voice quivered.
“I’m sorry, ma’am—I don’t have that information. They can help you on the second floor.”
“Thank you,” Graham said as he placed his hand on his mom’s shoulder and directed her toward the elevator. The doors opened immediately, and they stepped in. Graham gave his parents their name tags and peeled the backing from his before adhering it to his shirt. His stomach flipped and flopped on the ride up. Silently, he let out a prayer. Intensive care meant Grady was alive and not on a slab in the basement. There was still some hope.
When they stepped out of the elevator, they followed the signs down the hall, which seemed to take a year. Everything moved in slow motion. Graham stood at the double doors keeping him and his parents from entering the ICU and pressed the button on the intercom. When asked, he gave his name.
The double doors opened to a waiting room. Four other people were sitting; one was asleep, and the rest were watching television. His parents sat while he paced.
Up until now, Graham had no idea he was Grady’s emergency contact. The thought had never crossed his mind, and while he waited for the doctor to come out, he checked his phone. Other than “Home,” no one would know who to call if he were in an accident. What had Grady done to make sure someone knew to reach out to Graham?
The second set of double doors opened, and a doctor came out. “Chamberlain?” Graham stepped forward just as Johanna and George stood.
“What’s wrong with my son?”
“Follow me, please.”
Graham wanted to reassure his mother that this was protocol. The doctor wasn’t going to tell them anything with other people lingering around. There were privacy laws and etiquette. Inside the unit, there was a large semicircular desk in the middle of the room. The nurses there had a line of sight to each room, although some had their blinds pulled. The noise was what caught Graham’s attention. Everyone was quiet except for the machines. The static beeping, the whooshing of breathing machines, and crying filled the void of people talking among themselves. As he followed the doctor, he fought back the tears.
The doctor took the Chamberlains into a small room. There were three chairs, and even though Graham wanted to stand, the physician motioned for him to sit down. “I’m Dr. Field and have taken over Grady’s care while he’s in the ICU.”
“What happened to my son?” Johanna asked.
“Grady came in earlier this morning via ambulance. He was found on the side of the road, suffering from an overdose.”
“Oh, God,” Johanna gasped.
“My son doesn’t do drugs,” George added sternly.
Graham stayed quiet.
“The officers who found him were able to bring him back with naloxone. However, he coded in the ambulance on his way here.”
With each bit of grave news, Johanna cried out, while George continued to deny that his son was a user. Graham held on to his mother and internally criticized his father for being so damn naive.
“What’s Grady’s prognosis?” Graham asked.
“His organs are shutting down. Grady has severe deterioration of his liver and pancreas. Right now, we have him in a medically induced coma to flush his system and hope we’ll be able to grasp how much internal damage has been done. If Grady survives, he will need a strict lifestyle change.”
“Meaning what?” George asked.
“Meaning he needs to go to rehab, Dad. It’s time you accept that Grady is an addict and get him the help he needs before it’s too late,” Graham ground out. “If this isn’t your wake-up call, I don’t know what is.” Frustration poured from Graham. Grady should’ve been in rehab years ago.
“Dr. Field, what are Grady’s chances of survival?” Graham asked.
“Right now, low.”
“And if he does survive?” Johanna asked.
“Without rehab?” Graham and Johanna nodded. “He won’t make it.”
Dr. Field left the family in the room. The tension between them grew until a nurse came to get them. They would only allow one in at a time. Graham told his mother to go.
When Graham and George went back to the waiting room, George walked through the second set of doors, claiming he needed something to drink. Graham let his father go. They both needed space away from each other to cool down.
He sat down and pulled his phone out of his pocket to text Bowie with an update, only to find a text message from Rennie: I’m here at the hospital. Where are you?
SEVEN
The dining room at the Driftwood Inn had five circular tables set up, all dressed in cranberry-colored linens. Most of the tables had filled with guests or employees of the inn who didn’t have any family and opted to stay at work for Thanksgiving dinner. Brooklyn and Simone had gone above and beyond to make dinner special for everyone. Every possible food someone could want to eat sat on the rectangular tables surrounding the room, and all around, people chatted and got to know the strangers beside them—in the true spirit of Thanksgiving.