The Letter - Part 4, Chapter 68

I opened my eyes, and the room slowly came into focus.  I was in a hospital.  An IV was inserted into my right arm.  Another tube was attached beneath my nose, blowing oxygen into my nostrils. The window curtains were closed, but the morning sun was peeking through the gap at the bottom.  Sunday morning?  I wasn’t sure how long I had been out.  I saw a female figure sitting in a chair next to the bed.

“Jennifer?” I croaked, struggling to sit up.

“No, George, it’s me.”

“Missy? I’m sorry, Melissa?”

“It’s okay, George.  Missy is okay.  You just relax.  You’ve been through a lot.”

I fell asleep again.  When I awoke, my ex-wife was still there.  Memories of the previous evening came flooding back. I had been shot.  I passed out and woke up in an ambulance.  The paramedics told me we were going to Mercy Hospital.  I remembered being wheeled into surgery and then waking up in this room with Melissa in the chair beside my bed.  I turned my head and tried to focus my eyes to see her better.

“How long have you been here, Melissa?”

“Ever since they brought you back from surgery late last night.”

“What about Richard?”

“What about Richard?  He’s back in California preparing for a trial and analyzing whether this is going to have an impact on his election.”  Melissa forced a smile.

“Where’s Jennifer?”

“She’s staying with her friend, Liz.  She’ll no doubt come to visit you later today.  I’ve been texting her through the night with your progress.  Luckily the news has been pretty good.”

“What can you tell me?”

“I assume that you know you were the victim of a shooting during your rally against gun violence. Pretty ironic.”  She paused, pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed her eyes before continuing.  “Sorry. The doctor stopped by while you were sleeping and gave me the details from your surgery.  He said the bullet wound came from a small caliber handgun. The bullet went clean through you.  It just missed hitting a lung, which would have been bad.  Miraculously, no vital organs or arteries were hit.  They cleaned out the wound and patched you up.” Melissa stopped again, dabbed her eyes and blew her nose.  She looked at me and tried to smile. “The Doc said you should be fine in a matter of a few weeks or months depending on how fast your wound heals and how well you do in rehab.”

“Was anyone else shot?”

“Yes, the guy who introduced you.  He was shot in the arm.  They weren’t sure if it was a separate bullet or the one that passed through you.  It shattered some bone.  They had to remove the bullet, plus bone fragments.  His rehab will take a little longer, but he should be okay as well.  I know all this because I stopped by his room and spoke to his wife.  He’s just three rooms over. Sadly, this hospital has a wing devoted to gunshot victims.”

“Did they get the shooter?”

Melissa laughed.  “Yes, they got the shooter.  Now that’s an interesting story.”

“What do you mean?”

“Our daughter’s new boyfriend – Jeff?”

“Yes?”

“He’s something else.  You know he punched Henry, my chauffeur at that dance?”

“Yeah, I know.  I’ve seen Henry.  He could have broken Jeff in two.”

“Jeff’s either fearless or crazy.  He tackled the shooter and disarmed him.  The gun went off into the air during the struggle, but apparently no one was hurt.”

“Thank God!   What a story.  I’ll have to thank Jeff.  He may have saved my life.”

“Perhaps.  In any event, I’ve heard rumors that the Mayor of Pittsburgh is planning to present him with some kind of medal or plaque.  It will probably wait until you and Mr. Corey are out of the hospital and able to attend the ceremony.”

A nurse came in to check the IV and take my temperature and blood pressure.  She seemed satisfied that everything was as it should be considering my condition, and she removed the oxygen, making it a little easier to talk.

When she had left the room, I said to Melissa, “I’m thankful that you’re here, but I have to say I was more than a little surprised when I woke up and saw you at my bedside.  I guess we’ll have to ask our lawyers to postpone our Tuesday meeting.”

Melissa sat silent for a moment.  Then she looked directly at me and said, “George, there isn’t going to be a meeting.” 

“Really?  Why not?”

“This is a little complicated, so let me try to explain.  They identified the shooter on the news.  He apparently has a history of mental illness.”

“And yet he was able to get a gun.”

Melissa continued.  “Maybe he wasn’t the only mentally ill person with a gun in that crowd.  Maybe there was someone else – a very bitter woman who was jealous of the love clearly evident between a father and his daughter, who for a split second had the insane thought that she could steal that love for herself if she could just make the father go away.”

“What are you saying, Melissa?”

“George, I can’t say for sure why I came to that rally.  Maybe it was to spy for Richard.  I’m sure he would like to hear my thoughts on the strength of the local anti-gun movement.  Or maybe I came to see the man who once loved me come into his own leading that movement.”  Melissa gave a short laugh and then continued.  “Or maybe I came hoping to see Jennifer.  I don’t know.”  She paused.  “But for a moment when I saw you standing at the podium, it occurred to me that I had a gun in my purse.  I’m an expert shot, George.  If I had decided to use it, I wouldn’t have missed.” 

“Melissa, do you really think you could have gone through with it?”

Melissa took a breath and looked at me.  “No, George.  I may be many things, but I’m not a murderer.  Moments after I had that crazy thought, I recognized the consequences.  You’d be dead, I’d be in prison or worse, and our daughter would be all alone, trying to make sense of it all.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought of Jennifer.  Melissa placed her hand on mine and looked me straight in the eye.  “George, I tell myself I could never do that, but the fact that I considered it for a second – the second right before that maniac pulled the trigger, made me think – I mean really think.  Melissa paused, looking away for a second and dabbing her eyes with a tissue.  “And I’ve been thinking ever since I saw you go down and followed you here.”

Melissa took a deep breath to compose herself, then turned to me again.  “George, I love our daughter, but I realize now that I’m in no condition, mentally or emotionally, to take over your role.  I’m abandoning the custody action.  First thing tomorrow morning, I’m asking Sidney to end it.”

I sat silent for a moment, trying to process what Melissa had just said to me.  “Thank you, Melissa.  But I think it’s important that Jennifer and you have a relationship.”

“That’s kind of you, George.”  Melissa stood up and walked to the window.  She opened the curtains letting in the morning sun.  Then she turned to face me.  “I’m going to seek counseling, George.  And I know for the next few months, I will be heavily involved in Richard’s campaign.  Let’s see where I am after that’s over.  In the meantime, if you’re looking for a female role model for Jennifer, perhaps you should get to know your letter writing friend from Washington better.  Presuming, that is, that I didn’t destroy your chances for a relationship with that crude letter that I penned to her.”

I smiled.  “No, Melissa, the letter writing lady from Washington and I have been corresponding quite a bit over the last few weeks.  I’m not sure where it will lead.”

Melissa walked back to where she had been sitting and picked up her purse and coat.  “George, I have to be going.  Get well please.  And give my love to Jennifer.”