by Robin Cook
“Wait just a second!” Brian exploded. “How could that possibly be? This was an emergency of the highest order. My wife didn’t walk in on this occasion. She was carried in while being given CPR!”
“Peerless was given all the records including statements from the paramedics who responded to your 911 call,” Roger said. “Why they have refused the claim, I have no idea, but you better look into it quickly and get their decision reversed or the amount of money involved in your lawsuit by Premier Collections will be amended upward.”
“I will certainly find out.” Brian felt a renewed burst of anger toward Peerless and Heather Williams’s schemes, a resentment that was now equal to his hate of Charles Kelley and Roger Dalton. At the same time, the amount of money involved for a few hours in the emergency room seemed beyond the pale and equally as infuriating. Although he knew complaining about prices to Dalton was an exercise in futility, he couldn’t help himself. “I’ll certainly talk with Peerless, but how the hell could a couple of hours in your ED cost more than twenty-six thousand dollars? That’s highway robbery, especially considering the outcome.”
“I resent that,” Roger snapped. “As I’ve said, over and over, running a trauma 1 ED twenty-four-seven is hugely expensive. Your wife used the facility and the high-tech equipment. She also required an entire team of highly trained people and equipment to carry on the CPR and do an emergency neurological assessment. Furthermore . . .”
Unable to listen to another word, Brian cut Roger off by disconnecting the call. He felt like a volcano ready to explode. Getting up from his desk, he quickly went down into the basement, where he and Emma had set up a small workout room with a stationary bike, a rack of free weights, and a flat-screen TV. Needing an outlet for his anger and frustration, he picked up two forty-five-pound hand weights and did a series of curls until he couldn’t do any more. With a loud clank, he dropped them back into the rack.
Feeling a bit less out of control, he reclimbed the stairs and returned to the office. After sitting down and taking a deep breath, he placed a call to Ebony Wilson, which, as he anticipated, took some time to connect. The process required him to suffer again through several long, agonizing bouts of Muzak.
“Hello, this is Ebony Wilson, claims adjustment supervisor,” she said with her honeyed voice when she finally came on the line. “And with whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”
After Brian identified himself, he asked if she remembered him, resulting in a short laugh: “Of course I remember you! How could I not? You became the talk of the company the way you waltzed in here despite all the security our CEO demands. I have to say, you were extremely lucky you weren’t arrested or even seriously hurt.”
“I’m not sure that would have been the outcome had the situation escalated,” Brian countered, indulging in a bit of law enforcement patois. “But luckily that’s water over the dam. What I need to talk to you about is yet another claim denial involving my wife, and I demand an explanation.”
“I’m sure there is one. I’ll be happy to look into it. Can you give me your policy number again, so I can bring it up on my screen?”
After Brian did as he was told and after he had to suffer through yet another bout of Muzak, Ebony eventually returned on the line. “Okay, sorry for the wait. I have the adjuster’s report in front of me. I see the claim again involved another ED visit for your wife, Emma Murphy. I also see she is no longer with us. My sincerest condolences.”
“Thank you,” he said, rolling his eyes at the irony of someone from Peerless expressing condolences. “Last time Peerless saw fit not to cover an ED visit was because my wife had walked in during the afternoon. The explanation was that she didn’t need the resources of a Trauma 1 ED just to be admitted to the hospital. On this occasion, as I’m sure you can plainly see, she was literally carried in while undergoing CPR.”
“Yes, I see that,” Ebony agreed. “But I also see that the CPR wasn’t necessary.”
“Come again?” Brian asked with astonishment.
“It appears that our adjusters went over this claim rather carefully from their extensive write-up,” she said. “What they gathered from the paramedics’ report was that the patient was already brain dead in the paramedics’ judgment prior to even being put in the ambulance. In New York State, paramedics legally can determine death, meaning treatment efforts from then on were superfluous and Peerless is not fiscally responsible for them.”
“That’s crazy,” Brian blurted. “The paramedics started the CPR in our home and continued it all the way to the hospital.”
“That might have been the case, but they clearly thought the patient had suffered brain death from extended hypoxia. At least that’s what was in the report. I can understand you might not like this decision, and the same recourses are open to you if you feel our adjusters are in error. You can request a review and/or you can seek legal advice. It’s your right.”
Unable to take any more of such self-serving malarkey, Brian disconnected the call. Feeling equally as upset as he did after speaking with Roger Dalton, he was about to return to the basement workout room for another bout with the barbells when Camila came in.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said, unaware of Brian’s state of mind, “but there’s a new problem with Juliette.”
Caught between two polar emotions of rage and solicitude, he let his head fall into his hands and for a moment he forcibly massaged his scalp while his brain tried to reboot itself.
“Are you okay?”
After gritting his teeth and then running his fingernails through his thick hair several times almost to the point of pain, he looked up at Camila. The whites of his eyes were bright red. “What’s the problem?”
“She’s crying and seems inconsolable. She wants Bunny back.”
“Good God,” Brian managed, unable to think of an easy solution.
“She’s upstairs in her room and is really upset, and I don’t know what to say to her.”
“I’ll handle it,” Brian said. He stood up and headed for the stairs. Despite all his training both at the Police Academy and particularly at the ESU Academy about how to deal with psychological crises associated with hostage taking, suicide prevention, and talking down armed and desperate criminals, the thought of facing his bereaved daughter about her beloved stuffed rabbit seemed an impossible task. As he entered her room and looked down on her coiled up in a fetal position on her bed and sobbing, he felt totally inadequate. The rage he’d felt only moments before evaporated and was replaced completely by concern for his daughter.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, Brian stroked Juliette’s back. “Camila says you miss Bunny and want her back. Is that right?”
If anything, she seemed to respond by crying with more intensity.
“We can get her back if that’s what you want,” he said. “Or we can pick out a new Bunny.”
When there was still no response, Brian looked up at Camila standing in the doorway. She shrugged her shoulders, indicating she was at a loss.
“Okay,” Brian said. “Let’s see if we can find any wonderful rabbit toys to get for you so Mommy can have the company of Bunny like you wanted.” He reached for Juliette’s tablet and searched online for stuffed rabbits. He wasn’t certain there would be any, but he was pleasantly surprised. There was page after page of all sorts of stuffed rabbits, some that looked like Bunny and some that were significantly more attractive, especially given Bunny’s worse-for-wear condition. “Look at this,” he continued. “There’s lots and lots of options.”
If anything, Juliette’s tears only increased, and when Brian tried to put the tablet in her line of vision, she roughly pushed it away. It was clear she wasn’t going to have anything to do with searching for a new Bunny, but Brian was mildly encouraged. She’d at least responded.
“Do you want to go back to Grandma’s house and get Bunny?” he asked. He put
down the tablet.
She shook her head no, which encouraged Brian even more. “If you stop crying and talk to me, we can figure this out,” he said. “Do you want me to go back to Grandma’s by myself?”
He waited for a few minutes and even repeated the question about him going back to the wake on his own and retrieving the rabbit. But Juliette didn’t respond although the tears lessened. Continuing with the back stroking, Brian remained sitting on the edge of the bed for several more minutes before getting to his feet and approaching Camila.
“I’m as lost as you are,” he said in a lowered voice. “I have no idea what to do. Do you think I should just go back to the wake and get the damn rabbit?”
“I’m not even sure that would have much of an effect. What about calling Jeanne? She’s amazing with Juliette. Maybe she might have a suggestion?”
“Actually, that’s probably the best idea.”
Taking out his phone, he stepped out into the hallway and made the call, hoping for the best. It felt a little embarrassing calling a woman whom he’d just met for advice for the second time in one day. But he was desperate. He was relieved when she answered in a friendly fashion using his name, meaning she’d at least probably added his name and number to her contacts.
“I hope I’m not catching you back in Inwood Hill Park,” he said, trying to be lighthearted despite the circumstances.
Jeanne laughed. “No, I’m home, but I must confess that I did go back and finish my ride when I left you. How did it go at the wake for you and your daughter?”
“It was a big stress for both of us,” Brian said. “And indirectly that is why I am calling. You encouraged me to call if I needed help. Well, Juliette put Bunny in the casket to keep my wife’s body company.”
“Bless her soul,” she said.
“Unfortunately, she has had a change of heart. At the moment she is crying her eyes out, wanting Bunny back. To make matters worse, she’s not talking again. I’m at a loss. Do you have any suggestions? I’ve offered to go back to the wake and get the damn thing, which I’m not excited about doing, but she won’t acknowledge that will make her feel better.”
“Oh, dear!” Jeanne voiced. Brian could hear her sigh. “Off the top of my head, I think your inclination is correct. I don’t think you should go back and get the toy. She misses her mother and now misses Bunny, probably conflating the two. She might be somehow thinking that if she gets the rabbit back, she’ll also get her mother back.”
“I suppose that is possible. I’m also concerned that if she did get Bunny back, it would always remind her of seeing and touching her dead mother.”
“Did Juliette touch her mother’s body?”
“She touched her face. I don’t know if she was encouraged or did it on her own. I was across the room when it happened, and her grandmother was holding her, letting her reach over into the coffin with the toy. I think it spooked her.”
“I can well imagine. Would it be okay if I came over and tried to talk with her? I have an idea that might help.”
“Oh, please do,” Brian said gratefully. “Both Camila and I are at a complete loss of how to handle this. It’s heartrending to see her suffer.”
“I’ll be over as soon as I can.”
CHAPTER 27
September 1
It was just over forty minutes later that Brian heard the doorbell chime. He had been waiting impatiently, alternately sitting with Juliette and pacing in the living room.
“You are like the proverbial cavalry arriving at the last minute to save the day,” he said, trying to make light of the situation as he welcomed Jeanne back. No longer in bike clothes, she was dressed in a white summer blouse and black shorts and carrying a shopping bag.
“I’m sorry if it took too long. I had to shower and get out of my bike gear.”
“Not a problem now that you are here,” Brian said. “But I have to admit, we’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival. We’re really at a loss.” As she took off her mask, he noticed something he’d not noticed before. In contrast to his pale complexion, hers was almost as olive as Camila’s. When he mentioned it as she removed her shoes, she explained that there was a bit of Algerian in her heritage and maybe even a bit of Moroccan even farther back.
“How is Miss Juliette doing?” Jeanne asked as they mounted the stairs.
“Not much change,” Brian answered. “She stopped crying when we told her you were coming over to see her, but she’s still not speaking. Camila and I have alternately stayed with her since you and I spoke on the phone.”
“Sometimes that’s all you can do in a situation like this,” she said. “Patience is a virtue with children. Insecurity is going to be a challenge for her for a while, maybe for life.”
As they entered Juliette’s room, Camila stood up from the bed where she’d been sitting. She’d been reading to Juliette even though Juliette had remained unresponsive and curled up on her side. As Camila and Jeanne exchanged a verbal greeting, Juliette surprised everyone by rolling over on her back. She stared up at Jeanne.
“Hello, ma Juliette,” she said, trying to sound upbeat while sitting down in the spot that Camila had just vacated. “I’ve heard that your visit to your grandma’s was upsetting. Is that right?”
Juliette nodded.
“Seeing your mommy like that must have been scary,” Jeanne said. “But at least you got to say goodbye.”
Juliette nodded again.
“Did it feel strange when you touched her?” Jeanne asked.
With an added expression of distaste, Juliette said, “It was icky.”
“I’m sure it was. You were brave. I understand that you did something very nice: You gave your mommy Bunny to keep her company.”
“I want Bunny back,” Juliette demanded with a defiant expression.
“I’m sure you want both your mother and Bunny back. But I have an idea of what might help, and it is here in this shopping bag.” She raised the bag so Juliette could see it plainly. “Are you interested to see what it is?”
Juliette’s expression softened. “Yes,” she said.
Jeanne opened the bag, reached in, and pulled out another stuffed rabbit. It was about the same size as Bunny but a light gray instead of a light brown and less floppy except for the ears, which were longer. It was also in far better condition and had both of its eyes.
“This is Jeannot Lapin,” Jeanne said, pronouncing the name in a distinctly French fashion. “I told you about her earlier. She’s been my friend since I was about your age, but she would like to live with you if you will have her and treat her well.”
To Brian’s surprise and joy, Juliette reached for the stuffed toy, and when she had it in her hands, she examined it closely. When it apparently passed muster, she tried hugging it. She then looked up at Jeanne and once again nodded.
“She is a beautiful rabbit,” Brian said to his daughter. “I think she is fantastic. Do you like her as much as I do?” When Juliette indicated she did, he asked: “What will her name be: Jeannot Lapin or Bunny 2?”
“Jeannot Lapin,” Juliette declared, impressing everyone by imitating Jeanne’s French pronunciation perfectly.
“Jeannot Lapin it is,” Brian said with relief. “What about Bunny: Can she stay with Mommy?”
“Yes,” Juliette answered without hesitation.
He exchanged a grateful glance with Jeanne, once again feeling thankful he’d had the serendipitous pleasure of meeting her in Megan Doyle’s office. Even if Megan Doyle’s efforts were to come to naught, Brian was certain he’d feel indebted just for the opportunity of meeting Jeanne and the help she was bringing to Juliette.
Camila, who had been watching from the doorway, now came into the room and added her appreciation. After giving the stuffed rabbit a long list of praises, she asked the rabbit if she was hungry. Juliette answered for her, saying that she was hungry for
eggs and bacon.
“Then let’s take her down to the kitchen and see that she gets fed,” Camila said. “I’m hungry, too.”
As Juliette and Camila filed out of the room, Brian turned to Jeanne. “Bravo,” he said. “Once again, I can’t thank you enough. You really are a child whisperer. Thank you so much for all your help and for parting with such a personal possession. Can I at least pay you something for it?”
With true mirth, she laughed. “I’ve gotten more than adequate compensation from that toy. I couldn’t have imagined a better fate for it now. It was my mother who insisted I bring it here to the USA. I’m lucky I was able to find it after we talked. When I moved into my current, smaller apartment, I had to pack away a lot of my belongings.”
“Regardless, giving it to Juliette is enormously generous. Frankly, had you suggested it on the phone, I probably wouldn’t have thought it would work. I tried to get her excited about looking at stuffed rabbits online, and she was totally uninterested. Again, it’s obvious you have a way with children.”
“Thank you for the compliment,” Jeanne said. “Maybe it’s the child in me, but I do love interacting with young people. Obviously, that was why I ended up in school psychology, at least for a time. And I find Juliette darling. You are lucky to have her. I truly regret that Riley and I didn’t have children. We shouldn’t have put it off for the sake of the damn business.”
“I can understand your feeling. In many ways Juliette is holding me together.”
“I can see how committed you are,” she agreed.
“I’ve had some more bad news about Peerless and MMH Inwood,” Brian said. “It never stops. Can I bend your ear? I feel like complaining to someone.”
“Of course.”
“Let’s go down to the living room and at least be comfortable.”
As they descended the stairs, Jeanne said, “I think you are doing a marvelous job trying to deal with Juliette’s grief, but what about yours? You’ve lost a wife and a life partner, after all.”