promises. And Travis Sinclair told me he really liked Amy. Now he’s not even going to go see her in the hospital.”
She thought of all the fantasies she’d had about him, of how much she’d longed to have him as a boyfriend, and felt even more betrayed. “He’s acting like a creep, Daddy. A genuine creep!”
Chapter Eleven
“Dont judge him too harshly,” Mr. Bennett said. “There’s more to grieving than crying. And there’s more to caring than hovering over someone’s bedside.”
The lamplight glowed on the side of his face, and for the first time Erin noticed the bags under his eyes and lines around his mouth. He had a whole night ahead of him to spend in the hospital, and here she was taking out her anger at Travis on her father. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so upset.”
Mr. Bennett smiled pensively. “That’s okay, honey, we’re all on edge these days.” He picked up an album and leafed through the plastic-covered pages. “I remember when she was just learning to talk, and your mom and I would ask, ‘What does your sister want, Erin?’ And you’d tell us, and sure enough, that’s what it was. You two always seemed to understand each other. I think underneath you’re very much alike, even though on the outside you have different styles.”
He rose, crossed to the buffet, and rummaged through the junk drawer. “I got the birthday pictures back a week ago and tossed them in here for yourmother to put in the album.” He withdrew the packet and brought it over to Erin. “They turned out good, huh?”
Erin sorted through them—Amy grinning from behind her birthday cake, Amy holding up the car keys and special key chain Erin had given her. A lump wedged in Erin’s throat. Could it have been only a few weeks ago that they were all so happy and carefree? “Yeah, Dad, they’re super.” She placed them carefully inside the back cover of an album.
“Maybe when this is all over, you mom will put them in order,” he said. “Maybe this will be the birthday we remember most of all.”
“Amy will wake up, won’t she, Dad?” Erin hadn’t wanted to ask the question but couldn’t help herself. Her conversation with her mother earlier still weighed on her mind.
“The doctors aren’t making any promises.”
“If she doesn’t, will we have to put her in a nursing home?” The idea made Erin shiver.
“What do you suppose Amy would want?”
“She’d want to come home.”
“How would we care for her?”
“We could.” Erin jutted her chin stubbornly. “Between the three of us, we could take care of her.”
Mr. Bennett eased onto the sofa. He picked up the bear and stroked its fur. “The doctor asked us about putting a ‘Do not resuscitate’ order on Amy’s chart this morning.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning that should her heart stop suddenly, they wouldn’t do anything to start it beating again.”
Erin stared at him blankly as his words sunk in. The house was so silent that she heard the ticking of the hall clock. “You mean, let her die?”
Mr. Bennett kept studying the teddy bear. “She’s going to have massive brain damage, Erin. She’ll never be normal.”
“But they can’t just let her
die.
Please, Daddy, don’t let them do that. They have to start her heart.”
He turned anguished eyes on her. “Honey, Erin. Take it easy … it’s all right. Her heart’s very strong right now, so don’t worry.”
Erin had gone cold all over. She dug her nails into her palms, hoping the instant pain would keep her from screaming. “How could her doctors suggest such a thing? Aren’t they supposed to do everything to keep a person alive?”
Mr. Bennett let out a deep, weary sigh and rubbed his hand over his forehead. “They are, Erin. But lately I’ve wondered, What’s the distinction between prolonging life and postponing death? Can’t you see the difference between the two?”
“What about, ‘Thou shall not kill’?” Erin grabbed at the