Crazy For You (28 page)

His guitar.

It was protected within its case, but he knew it was
in there. That was the problem. The music was the root of the whole
problem. Frank had no delusions that he could change what had
happened, but he could rid himself of the problem that had caused
the tragedy in the first place.

Tears finally escaped, streaming down his face as he
took the guitar out of the case. He had so much guilt and sadness
built up inside him, so much sorrow and loss—the loss was the worst
of all. With a firm grip he picked up the guitar and let all his
frustrations come to a head as he raised it over his shoulder like
a bat and spitefully swung it against the wall. The instrument
crashed into several broken pieces, leaving Frank standing there
with only a portion of the arm remaining in his hands. He’d managed
to destroy the guitar but he’d failed to get rid of any of those
uninvited emotions that had invaded his soul.

Feeling helpless and out of sorts, Frank slumped to
the floor. Rage poured out and he threw the piece of guitar at the
wall. Then tears began to drop from his eyes again. “Roxanne…!” he
called out her name desperately. “Please don’t leave me? Please
don’t go…” his voice trailed off with his tears.

J
erry had put a distraught
Candy to bed in the emergency room and given her a sedative. Rich
hadn’t left her side during the few hours the drug had induced her
to sleep.

When she woke up Roxanne entered her thoughts.
“Rocky…” she called out, and the memory of earlier events swept
through her mind. “Rich?” Somehow, Candy knew he’d be there.

“I’m here,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’m right here
with you.”

“Roxanne. Where’s Roxanne?”

“She’s upstairs,” he said hesitantly. “Baby, there’s
been no change.”

And then Candy realized something. She saw Rich
standing over her.
I can
see
! Tears warped her
restored eyesight. “Oh, God…” her voice cracked.

“Candy,” Rich said fearfully. “Baby, what’s
wrong?”

“Nothing.” She cried until she was almost laughing.
“You are a sight for sore eyes.”

“What?” he asked, confused.

“I can see you,” she said. “Plain as day…I can see
you.”

A
t two in the morning, the
hard floor woke Frank up. He rolled over and something sharp poked
him in the leg. His guitar. Reality came crashing back in as he
looked at the shattered guitar scattered around him on the floor.
He tightened his fists and felt another poke, this time in his left
hand. Roxanne’s rings.

Frank leapt to his feet and ran downstairs. He had
to get to the hospital. He had to get to Roxanne.

During the night, she’d been moved to ICU and Jerry
had authorized Frank and the others visiting privileges. Finding
his way into the hospital’s specialized area, Frank elicited the
help of a nurse, who escorted him to Roxanne’s room.

“I guess I don’t have to tell you that this hospital
is not to speak to the press about my wife,” Frank said.

“Mr. Garrett,” she responded in a professional
manner. “The press will learning nothing of your wife’s condition
from us.”

Frank dismissed the nurse’s comments in favor of
going into Roxanne’s room. He stopped at her bedside. For the first
time in his life he felt like he was totally at someone else’s
mercy because he had no control over Roxanne’s situation. He
couldn’t ensure her recovery and that left him feeling inadequate
and vulnerable. “I’m sorry I left before.” With a one-foot tug, he
dragged the nearest chair to her bed and sat down. “But I’m here
now. And I won’t leave again.” He took her rings from his pocket
and lovingly picked up her left hand. “I brought your rings. I know
you were mad at me when you took them off, but I’m going to put
them back where they belong.” He slipped them back on her finger.
“Roxie…” He wrestled with his emotions. They wanted tears, but he
needed to put forth a solid front—for Roxanne. “Baby, if you’ll
just wake up,” he bargained with her as if she would hear him.
“I’ll fix what’s wrong. I’ll do whatever it takes to fix us. And
I’ll never, ever leave you lonely again. I’ll spend the rest of my
life proving my love to you.”

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it and
then held it against his cheek. His emotions got the best of him
and silent tears spilled down his face.

The door opened, but Frank didn’t move.

Rich and Candy came in. They both looked at
Frank—who seemed oblivious to them—and then at each other.

A gentle hand touched Frank’s shoulder. He turned to
see who had dared an intrusion.

“You’re not wearing your sunglasses,” Candy
said.

“What?” How did she know that?

“Candy can see,” Rich said in a reserved tone.

“You can see?”

“Forget about me,” Candy said. “What can we do to
help you?”

“Wake her up.”

“Frank, you know I’d do that if I could. Hell, I’d
trade places with her in a minute.”

Trade places
? Roxanne’s prayers in the
chapel, back when Candy was in the hospital came to mind. “Will you
stay here with her?” Frank asked. “I’ll be back in a few
minutes.”

Frank went to the hospital chapel, having a few
things to say to the man upstairs. He stopped at the same pew where
he’d found Roxanne pleading Candy’s case all those months ago. He
sat silently for a while, remembering how Roxanne had blamed
herself for what had happened to Candy. How she’d asked God to take
her instead of Candy. And now, Roxanne was in a coma and Candy’s
eyesight had returned. Maybe, just maybe, God was obliging
Roxanne.

But that’s absurd
. “Seriously now,” he said
aloud. “You haven’t done what she’s asked, have you?” His heart
pounded wildly.
You can’t do this to us
. “You can’t do this
to our son. He needs his mother.”
And so do I
.

Frank had a point. Life hadn’t been exactly fair to
Frankie. First he had no father in his life, and now it looked like
he might lose his mother.

Rich entered the chapel and walked quietly up to the
place where Frank was sitting. “Frank…” He paused until Frank
looked at him. “Jerry wants to see us now.”

“Is it Roxanne?”

“I think he’s got some results on the tests he
ran.”

For Jerry, facing Frank, Candy, and Rich was a lot
like facing a firing squad. In the hallway outside Roxanne’s room,
they all stared at him, anxiously hoping for good news. Jerry
wished he had some to give them.

“I’ve run every test that’s available,” Jerry said.
“And we keep getting back the same results. I have to be honest
with you…it doesn’t look promising.” He wished more than anything
that he didn’t have to do this. “The amount of drugs she ingested
and the amount of time they stayed in her system have rendered her
in a deep coma.” Jerry battled his own tears, something that’d
never happened to him. He’d never become this emotionally
distraught over a patient. “She may come out of it someday,” he
tried to sound reassuring. “But at this point…it doesn’t seem
likely.”

“What are you saying?” Candy asked.

“I’m saying I don’t know if she’ll ever wake up
again,” Jerry muttered.

“I’m going to take her home,” Frank said,
unwavering. “And I’m going to take care of her.”

“Frank…the next time she goes into cardiac arrest,
do you really want Little Frankie witnessing that?” Jerry asked.
“And if she’s at home the next time it happens...she’ll die there,
because the equipment won’t be there to save her life.”

“What are we supposed to do then?” Rich asked.

“My advice to you is...” Jerry said. “There’s an
institution down near Ft. Myers. They specialize in comatose
patients. She’d get the care she needs there.”

Institutionalized, Frank thought. This couldn’t be
happening. Why was Jerry telling him this? He didn’t want to hear
that she probably wasn’t going to wake up.

“Frank...” Candy squeezed his hand gently. “We need
to think about what’s best for Roxanne.”

But Frank didn’t want to think about how Roxanne
might never come back to him. He couldn’t turn his back on her
either. He had to admit, Candy was right. Above all else, they
needed to do what was best for Roxanne. “You’re right, Candy,”
Frank finally said with a hint of reluctance.

The doctors subjected Candy to several tests, all of
which resulted in a clean bill of health. It seemed that no real
harm had come to her when she’d fallen and hit her head in the
emergency room.

As each day passed and Roxanne continued to lay in a
lifeless coma, it left an increasingly dismal future for her
prognosis. After about four days, and more tests than Jerry could
count, reluctantly he relinquished hope for Roxanne’s recovery.

F
rankie heard about his
mother’s hospitalization from his father. Frank tried, as best he
could, to explain about a coma.

“Daddy...” Frankie said, “when is Mommy coming
home?”

Frank sat down on the couch. “Come sit with me.
We’ve got some things to talk about.”

Frankie climbed up beside Frank on the sofa. “Is
Mommy still sleeping?”

“Yes. Yes, she is.”

“Why don’t you wake her up?”

“Because I can’t.”

“Is she ever going to wake up?”

“Yes. Someday.” Frank said definitely. “I don’t know
exactly when, but she’ll wake up as soon as she can.”

“Can I go see her?”

“I’m afraid not.” Frank didn’t want Frankie seeing
his mother hooked up to the machines. Nor did he want him
witnessing the hospital staff performing another emergency
resuscitation on her. Hell, that’d scared the shit out of Frank. He
couldn’t let that happen to Frankie. And he couldn’t let Frankie
worry too much either. “If you go see her she might try to wake up
before she’s ready.”

“Is Mommy going to be okay?” Fear invaded Frankie’s
voice.

“I don’t want you to worry. Your mommy’s going to be
fine.”

Frankie held a look of intensity. “I miss her.” His
bottom lip quivered as tears welled around his eyes.

“Don’t you worry.” Frank pulled his son into his
arms and comforted him. “Your mommy’s going to be okay. I promise
you that.”

“Daddy?” Frankie pushed back, looking into Frank’s
eyes. “Can we send Mommy some flowers? Like we did when Aunt Candy
was in the hospital?”

“You bet we can.”

Frank vowed that they’d send Roxanne flowers every
Saturday until she came home.

***

***

Chapter 25

March 1989

Tampa, Florida

A
week after the overdose,
there hadn’t been any change in Roxanne’s condition, so Frank had
her moved to a long-term care facility in Ft. Myers at Jerry’s
recommendation.

Not long after that, Jason and Jerry showed up at
the house with legal papers, saying Roxanne had them drawn up years
ago. The document basically stated that if she were ever
institutionalized or incapacitated, she didn’t want her family and
friends viewing her body.

“I’ll take that to court.” Frank said.

“Believe me, Frank...this is not easy.” Jason looked
at him with remorse, but Frank didn’t buy it. It was a smokescreen.
That’s what it was. Jason continued, “It’s not something I really
want to enforce, but we have to remember, these are Roxanne’s
wishes.”

“She may have wanted that then, but who’s to say
that’s what she’d want now?” Frank said, as if he gave their theory
the benefit of the doubt. But really, it meant nothing to him.

“If you want to take it to court, go ahead.” Jason
stood his ground. “But you’ll find it’s quite legal. The courts
will uphold her wishes.”

“Frank…as much as it hurts,” Candy said. “If that’s
what she wanted, then that’s what we have to do. We have to respect
her wishes.”

As much as Frank didn’t want to admit it, Candy was
right. But this latest obstacle threatened the success of his plan.
He’d intended to spend most of his waking hours with Roxanne. Not
only would he have the opportunity to talk her out of the coma, but
it would give him a means of passing the time until she did wake
up. However, if he could no longer see her, he’d have to find
another way to occupy himself until she came home.

Not knowing what to do or where to go, Frank headed
for Roxanne’s study. A slight chill brushed past him as he walked
across the room. Approaching the desk, he thought about the last
time they were in here together. Frank pushed his self-pity aside,
moved behind the desk and eased down into her chair. Eyeing the
computer, he wondered if she had a new book stored on the thing. He
continued to stare at it, thinking about taking a look at what she
might have been working on. But what the hell did Frank know about
computers? Nothing. But there had to be a manual. Right?

Frank began rifling through the desk. In the first
drawer he found a bunch of disks arranged in a file box. The front
of the file had been labeled…
My Book
.

He commended her silently for her incessant
organization and pulled out a couple of disks. She had handwritten
tags on them. Things like: notes, important events, and misc. That
probably meant the information he was looking for was on those
disks. He kept searching the desk until he found the computer’s
manual. If he wanted to see what she’d written, he’d have to get
those files up on the screen.

After a lot of time and a bit of reading, Frank
figured out how to bring the files up so he could view and read her
words.

From the disk titled “Frank and Me” ~

When I signed the contract with Winston-Fischer
Publications to publish my first novel The Secret, I was in the
first stages of my pregnancy, and hiding from the father of my
baby. You all know him as the rock-star Frank Garrett, but when I
knew him he was someone totally different—before his rock-star
days.