“I shouldn’t have let so many years go by,” she muttered to herself as she walked across the parking lot and entered a place that didn’t look a helluva lot different than the house where Emma had grown up. Why was her childhood friend in a place like this?
Victoria would drive Jesus and the angels out of her house. This is probably a vacation for Emma. Sophie took a deep breath and pushed the button beside the spotlessly clean glass door.
“May I help you?” a slightly raspy voice asked.
“I’m here to see Emma Merrill,” she said. Lord have mercy! Emma was locked inside the place. Emma, who would rather be outside than in her fancy suite of rooms on the second floor of Victoria’s mansion, couldn’t even step outside for a breath of fresh air. This just wasn’t right.
“Come in and stop at the front desk,” the voice said.
The lock on the door clicked. Sophie stepped inside a sterile-looking lobby, took two steps, and said, “Could you tell me which room Emma Merrill is in?”
“Are you family?” the woman asked.
“Of course.” Sophie beamed as she lied through her teeth. “Can’t you tell by looking? I’m her cousin.”
“Visits have to be scheduled. We can’t have people just dropping by any old time. She’s making real progress here, not like at the other places she’s been. She’ll probably be going home in a few days, so maybe you could wait and see her when she’s settled back home.” The woman eyed her carefully.
“Can’t you make an exception this one time? I’m leaving town and won’t get to see her again for weeks and weeks,” Sophie begged.
“Sorry.” The woman shook her head. “Rules are rules.”
A woman with a notepad came up to the desk and eyed Sophie carefully. “I’m Dr. Nancy Davidson. And you are?”
“This woman wants to see Emma Merrill, and she hasn’t made an appointment,” the lady said.
“Sophie Mason.” She stuck out her hand, and Nancy jumped as if she wasn’t sure she’d heard right.
“I think we can make an exception to the rules this time and let Sophie talk to Emma,” Nancy said.
“Thank you so much.” Sophie flashed her brightest smile.
“Sign the visitors’ log right there.” The woman whipped a guest book around and pointed to a page with empty lines. “Room one-thirteen, just down that hall,” she said and went back to typing something into the computer.
Sophie marched down the hall. When she found the right room, she frowned at the sign on the door—FEMALES ONLY. What in the devil was going on with her old friend? She eased the door open and peeked inside to find the starkest room she’d ever seen. She had always envied Emma her bedroom when they were kids. All done up in pink satin and white lace with Disney princess posters on the wall, the suite had had a sitting room, a bedroom, a walk-in closet, and a beautiful private bathroom. This poor room had only a dresser and closet built into the wall. There was no television or phone, and the twin bed was covered with a light-green bedspread. The only inviting things in the whole room were a dark-green recliner and matching love seat.
From the appearance of the outside of the center and knowing how rich the Merrill family was, Sophie had expected to see a fully furnished room like the one Emma had at home. Why would Victoria ever put her daughter away in a sorry place like this? If she wasn’t sad when she arrived, she damn sure would be before she left.
She opened the door wider and saw a dark-haired woman standing at a window. Slumped shoulders, arms hanging limply by her sides—everything about her said defeat.
“Em?” she whispered.
Emma turned away from the window and threw a hand over her mouth. “Sophie, is that really you?”
“It’s really me.” Sophie stepped inside the room and closed the door behind her.
Emma met her halfway across the room and grabbed her in a fierce hug. “I was talking about you this morning. I’m so glad to see you. I still don’t think lizards are that color.”
Sophie wrapped Emma up in her arms and held her tight. “An artist can make lizards any color that they want,” she said and stepped back. That was the sort of banter that would have made her laugh, but now her childhood friend looked like death warmed over. Her skin was ashen, and her big brown eyes were lifeless. “How long has it been since you were outside?”
Emma shrugged. “Mother says I can’t go outside—that I don’t do well except inside. I had a panic attack at the mall, so she doesn’t let me go to big places. I wanted to build myself one of those new tiny houses, but she threw a fit.”
“How long has it been since you painted or even colored?” Sophie took her by the cold, bony hand and led her toward the love seat.
Emma began to twist her hands once Sophie released her. “I can’t paint or color. The people here tried to get me to draw, but my hands shake every time I pick up a brush or even a crayon,” she said. “I’m not doing so well, Sophie. They want me to remember things, and I can’t. Sometimes I want to make up something just so they’ll stop wanting me to talk to them.”
“Well, hell’s bells,” Sophie said. “You were a better artist than me. What happened?”
Another shrug.
Anger boiled up from somewhere down in the depths of Sophie’s heart. Who or what had caused her childhood friend to not even care about her art? Something catastrophic had to have happened to make her turn her back on her dream. Some friend she’d been all these years.
Sophie had never done anything on impulse, not even when the candy bars and magazines right by the checkout counters reached out to her. But right then, Sophie decided to change that. She couldn’t undo the past, but she could fix the future. She couldn’t let Emma stay in this dismal room one more day—or, for that matter, one more hour.
“Who checked you into this place?” she asked.
“I did,” Emma answered, “but Mother brought me here and told me to sign the papers. She is still the boss about everything.”
“So, you can check yourself out, right?” Sophie asked.
“When the therapist and Mother decide it’s for the best. I can sign myself out at any time, but you know Mother. She’ll be angry with me if I do.” Emma’s tone was flat, as if she’d given up hope.
“I never have lived by Victoria’s rules. Let’s get your things packed up and ready to go. You’re going to check yourself out and come with me,” Sophie said.
Emma almost smiled. “Mother will have a fit. She says if I even talk to you, she’ll put me in one of these places permanently.”
“Well—” Sophie opened the closet door, found a small suitcase, and set it on the twin bed. She returned to the closet to find a pair of jeans, a shirt, sandals, and a makeup kit. Hanging on the rack inside were several sets of scrubs, all pure white like the ones Emma was wearing. “Then I guess you’ll just have to live with me from now on, and, honey, I would never put you in a place like this.”
“It’s not as bad as some of the others,” Emma said.
“Is this all you brought with you?” Sophie stared at the suitcase.
“That’s what I wore when I checked into this place.” Emma glanced down at the white outfit she was wearing and flicked a piece of dust away from the top. “The last center I was in had pink scrubs. I liked them better than these.”
Sophie threw the clothing out of the closet. “Put these on and toss what you are wearing on the bed.”
“Where are we going? Shouldn’t I call Mother?” Emma asked.
“Every summer I spend a while down near Big Bend National Park in southern Texas. I want to do a couple of landscapes down there for my next showing, and you’re coming with me.” Sophie hoped that she hadn’t left room for arguments. “And no, don’t call Victoria. You are over thirty years old, for God’s sake. You can make up your own mind and color lizards purple or orange or even red if you want to.”
Emma pulled the top over her head and tossed it on the bed. “Sophie, we’ll have to go by my house. I don’t have a
nything else to wear.”
They couldn’t go by Victoria’s huge mansion of a house or Sophie would never get out of town with Emma. “We’re about the same size. You can wear my things, or else we’ll buy you something on the way or order you some new things online. I lived in your hand-me-downs when we were kids, so I’ll be glad to share my things with you now. Have courage, Emma. Believe me when I say we have to leave this place, and we can’t go get anything from Victoria’s house. You need to go with me, so your job is to check yourself out. We can talk about the next step on the way to south Texas. If you want to go home after a couple of days, I’ll bring you back, I promise.”
Is this the right thing to do? You need to get a lot of work done in the next few weeks for the European showing. Do you have time to worry with Emma? the annoying voice in her head asked.
She was my best friend, and I should have been here for her before now, Sophie argued.
“I’m a mess, Sophie. This isn’t the first place like this I’ve been since I saw you last. Are you sure about this?” Emma asked.
Like when they were kids, it seemed like Emma could always read her mind. “I’m very sure. I’ve been renting a trailer in a small park in south Texas for the past three years at this time of year. The snowbirds have all gone home, and it’s peaceful and quiet.” Sophie handed her the shirt. “Put this on now.”
“Snowbirds?” Emma pulled the shirt over her head and then removed the scrub bottoms.
“People who don’t like the snow and cold in the northern states, so they come south for the winter.” Sophie handed her the jeans.
Emma jerked them up over her slim hips. They hung on her like a tow sack on a broom handle. There was a time when she had been a size bigger than Sophie. That’s why Victoria had given all Emma’s outgrown things to Rebel.
“I hate snow and cold weather,” Emma said.
“That’s a good sign, because where we’re going, it’s hot and dry.” Sophie put the suitcase back into the closet. She took Emma’s purse from the shelf and handed it to her. She noticed that it was a Chanel—but then, Victoria would be embarrassed if she or her daughter had anything but the best.
This is getting real. What if you make her worse? The voice in her head increased in volume.
Nothing could be worse than this, Sophie answered.
“Let’s go,” Sophie said. “Do you have a cell phone in your purse?”
“No, it’s in the nightstand,” Emma answered. “Mother calls every night at nine o’clock. There’s no cameras in here”—Emma scanned the bare room—“or at least I hope there’s not any, so she doesn’t know what’s going on. I tell her that I’m feeling so much better when she calls.”
Sophie took the phone and the charger from the drawer, turned the phone off, and put it in Emma’s purse.
“You can’t do that—turn off the phone. Mother wouldn’t like it, and you know how she gets when she’s angry,” Emma whispered.
“I promise we’ll turn it back on as soon as we get to our destination, and that will be before nine o’clock tonight,” Sophie said.
“All right then.” Emma nodded.
She didn’t expect to get all the way to Hummingbird Trailer Park before the center called Victoria and told her that Emma had checked out, but they had no idea where she was going, so that would buy her some time.
Emma’s hands shook so badly when they stepped up to the front desk, but she crammed them down into her pockets and said in a fairly steady voice, “I’m checking myself out.”
The lady behind the computer looked up and asked, “What’s your name?”
“Emma Merrill,” she answered.
“For God’s sake, she’s been here all these weeks and you don’t even know her name?” Sophie said impatiently. She had to get Emma out of this place in a hurry. If Victoria walked through the doors or by chance happened to call, all hell would break loose.
“Don’t remember ever seeing her out of her room,” the woman shot back as she hit a few keys. “You only have one week left in the program. Are you sure you want to leave? There will be no reimbursement of funds.”
Nancy came from a room, noticed Emma, and ran all the way up the hallway. “Emma, what are you doing? I have strict orders to call your mother if you decide to check yourself out,” she said between bouts of catching her breath.
“Nancy, I’d like to introduce you to Sophie,” Emma said in a very formal tone. “This is my friend, and I’m leaving with her. We plan to spend a few weeks in southern Texas. Do you think I might see a purple lizard?”
Nancy gave a brief nod toward Sophie. “We met earlier.”
“Does she need to sign something?” Sophie asked.
“Just one paper,” Nancy answered. She nodded to the lady behind the computer and said, “Print it out.” Then she turned back to Emma. “And I’m very busy right now, so it might be a couple of hours before I have time to call your mother. I hope you find many happy places where you are going, Emma.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Emma nodded and signed the paper that the receptionist put in front of her.
“Take good care of her,” Nancy whispered to Sophie. “If anyone can help her, it just might be you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sophie said. “Will you get in trouble for this?”
“Not at all. Emma checked herself into our facility. She has always been free to check herself right back out. She’s an adult.” Nancy smiled.
“Thank you,” Sophie told her.
Emma turned around. She wasn’t smiling yet, but her eyes looked a little less dead when she said, “I’m ready, Sophie. Let’s go find that crazy hippie lizard.”
Chapter Two
I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you,” Sophie said when they were underway. “I tried to call, but Victoria told me in no uncertain terms that I was never talking to you. The second time I tried, the phone number had been changed.”
“Mother is the boss. And I wasn’t there for you, either. I haven’t been to one of your shows . . .” Emma looked out the side window. “But I don’t do well in crowds or around men. Are there guys where we are going?”
“Ye-es.” Sophie heard the anxiety in her friend’s voice and wondered if maybe she had made a big mistake in taking her away from people who were trying to help her. She reached across the console and laid a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Arty is past seventy and does metal art. He used to make the big stuff out of junked cars, but now that he’s older, he works on smaller projects.”
“Is he a big man?” Emma wrung her hands. “Maybe you better take me back to the center. I don’t want to be a bother.”
I will not give up, not after what Nancy said as we were leaving. I might be Emma’s last hope of getting well, Sophie thought.
“Arty isn’t much taller than me, if that. He’s a short, round guy who wears bibbed overalls. He’s bald headed and reminds me of Ralph, the old gardener at your folks’ place when we were kids,” she said.
“I liked Ralph.” Emma stopped twisting her hands.
“Me too,” Sophie said as she drove south and caught Highway 20 going west. “And then there’s Josh.”
The hand-wringing started again. “Is he a big guy?”
Evidently just thinking about those kinds of guys made Emma very nervous. No wonder there was that sign on her door. Something had happened to her that involved a big man. That much Sophie was sure of. Thank God Josh and Arty were not imposing guys.
“Remember Marty Stephens from elementary school?” Sophie asked.
Emma drew her brows down in a frown and finally nodded. “He wasn’t even as tall as we were, and he had trouble learning.”
“Josh is kind of like that, maybe five feet three inches tall, only he’s brilliant. He’ll be our landlord—he owns the park. Arty told me he has the IQ of a genius, but he’s really shy and kind of keeps to himself. Don’t let that fool you, though—he’s so kind. He’s an artist, too. He works with pencil and ink instead of paints, though, and
sells his stuff at the gift shops in that area. He’s never made it big, but he doesn’t care, because he hates crowds. I wanted to set him up with a gallery showing, but he told me that money wasn’t all that important to him, either. He’s got family money, so he doesn’t depend on his art for his income.”
“Marty was awkward, too. I felt sorry for him,” Emma said. “The kids picked on him something awful.”
“Until I knocked a couple of them on their butts.” Sophie laughed.
Emma didn’t laugh with her, but at least her hands went still. Sophie remembered that Emma had been so excited about her art classes and her freedom that first semester of college. Those were the days when she was still hoping to be a famous artist someday, and Sophie had had no doubt that she would be. She had the money from her parents to back her until she got a start, whereas Sophie had had to work anywhere from two to four jobs to support herself until she finally sold a couple of paintings.
“I was so focused on getting you out of that place that I didn’t think to ask if you are on medicine that we needed to pick up at the desk or get refilled,” Sophie said.
“The whole reason for me going to the center was so I could get off my pills and only take supplements. Mother is on a healthy kick these days. No sugar, no carbs, lots of exercise and vitamins,” Emma said. “I won’t be missing anything but more of those therapy sessions when they try to get me to remember something that I have locked away in my brain, and a sleeping pill at night that never works anyway.”
“Why do you need sleeping pills?” Sophie asked.
“So that I don’t have nightmares and wake up in a cold sweat. I didn’t tell Nancy that the pills weren’t working. I’ve never told anyone.”
Hummingbird Lane Page 3