Page 93 of Endless Love

“No, I need to use the company plane if it’s available.

“Where do you need to go?”

“Paris.”

Silence ensued. The City of Lights held dark memories for my father as well. He had flown there to make amends with me, but it was too late; Allee was gone. Reliving our awkward encounter in the Hemingway Bar, my chest tightened.

Clearing his throat, my father asked, “Something to do with your late wife?”

He never referred to Allee by name, which was fine by me.

“No.”

“Something to do with that new girl. Willa?”

“Willow,” I corrected. “She’s been in a bad accident.”

Another stretch of silence. Every second that went by meant that I might never hold her in my arms again. My pulse thudded in my ears with trepidation.

Then, finally…“Hold on. I’ll have Hazel check if the plane is free.”

While I shared an anxious glance with Mel, my father put me on hold for a minute and then returned.

“Son, it’s available. It’s yours.”

I breathed out a heavy sigh of relief and gave Mel a thumbs-up. His forlorn face brightened a tad as I wrapped up my call.

“Thank you, Father.” Three words I rarely said.

“When will you be back?”

“I don’t know. But as soon as possible.”

“Good luck, son. And may God be with both of you.”

One hour later, Mel and I were on our way to Paris with my father’s blessings. Praying that Willow would be all right.

Mel and I arrived in Paris seven hours later. A limo met us at Le Bourget Airport and drove us straight to the hospital. The American Hospital in Neuilly. The very hospital where Allee had passed away. Where we’d spent our last night together.

A little after seven o’clock in the morning, the City of Lights was just waking up. Mel, who had never been to Paris before, kept his face pressed against the tinted glass windows. I suppose silently taking in the sites was a means of coping with his anxiety and fear. In the plane, he had tearfully told me that he couldn’t bear to lose Willow. I couldn’t bear to lose her either.

My stomach was in knots throughout the entire ride. I hadn’t been back to Paris since Allee’s death. The range of emotions that ran through me was daunting. And there was an awful, sick sense of déjà-vu. I seriously did not know if I could go through with this. Losing one great love in Paris was enough. Losing two was unimaginable.

The trip took us only twenty minutes. Except for a light layer of snow that dusted the grounds, The American Hospital of Paris was just as I remembered it. The sprawling five-story brick complex venerable and stately. Despite our fatigue, we raced through the entrance and up to the information center. Willow, now out of surgery, was in the intensive care unit on the third floor of Building D. The attendant on duty informed us we were not allowed to see her at this time.

“Monsieur, ce n’est pas possible,”said the stern, dismissive woman after a distraught Mel begged for the umpteenth time.

Impossible?Fuck this shit. This is when I used my pull. I told the arrogant French woman that I was Ryan Madewell, the son of Eleanor Madewell, who was now the Chairwoman of the American Hospital of Paris Foundation. To prove it to her, I pulled out my passport. Her eyes grew wide and after mumbling, “Pardon” in French, she instantly picked up a phone and arranged for Mel and me to have access to Willow. Her surgeon was going to meet us outside the ICU.

Dr. Beauchamp was a kind-looking, balding man in his early sixties. He spoke English perfectly.

“Messieurs,I am afraid I have good news and bad news.”

Bad news. At the sound of those two words, I thought Mel would have another coronary. This time a major one. I steadied him with my hands.

“The good news eez that she eez going to be okay. Given the force of impact from the truck, it eez a miracle. Though she suffered numerous internal injuries as well a serious head injury, she does not have brain damage. She will be able to resume a full and normal life.”

I breathed a loud sigh of relief. Mel almost squeezed the life out of the slight man with a hug. “That’s great, Doc. So what’s the bad news?”

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