by Harry Kraus
“She’s lyin’, Doc.”
“Billy Ray, I’d advise you to get some help. Learn how to deal with your anger without violence. Goodnight, Mr. Chisholm.”
Claire flipped off the phone and lay down on her bed, anticipating a callback that never came. It was after two when she finally conceded to exhaustion and fell asleep.
Chapter Thirteen
Two cases of the flu, three school sports physicals, a forty-eight-year-old contractor with back pain and foot drop, a sixty-one year old T with an abnormal mammogram, and a brittle diabetic brought a sense of normalcy to Claire’s morning. By noon, she’d put last night’s events on the back burner, and the cloud completely out of her mind.
Lisa, her receptionist, paused at the doorway to Claire’s office and knocked on the doorframe.
“Hi, Lisa.”
“I’ve got the appointment books open to next summer already. Should I be scheduling visits for you?”
“Next summer already?”
“Annual followups, mammogram checks, school physicals. The patients are starting to ask for you. Old Ms. Denton said she’d never had a lady doctor before, and now she’s spoiled. She only wants you.”
“Ms. Denton has lived ninety-one years seeing male physicians. I think she’ll adapt.”
Lisa smiled. “So . . .”
“I agreed to cover until June 30 or until Dr. Jenkins sold his practice.”
“So . . .”
“So the short answer is ‘no.’ I’ll be back in residency training somewhere.”
Kelly Myers and Amy Stevens, who ran the insurance and billing, walked in behind Lisa. “Do we get to vote?”
Claire was flattered. “You guys just like the new office. How many years did you guys work out of Dr. Jenkins’ home?”
“Too long,” Amy said.
Kelly set down a stack of disability forms on the desk for Claire’s signature. “Why did he build this just when he was retiring?”
Claire groaned at the size of the work she’d been handed. “Two reasons. He wanted some income in his retirement, which he’ll get from renting the building. And he realized no one would buy his practice if they had to work out of his home office.”
Lucy pushed her way past the clerical staff. “Nurse coming through.” She looked at Claire and smiled. “Hate to break up the party. I thought there must be food in here.” She dropped Lena Chisholm’s chart on the desk. “Cathy Rivera is calling from the women’s shelter in Brighton. Shall I have her call back?”
“No. Put her through to the desk.”
Lucy didn’t budge. “I’ve got a reminder here to tell you that Brittany Lewis is having gallbladder surgery today. Should be home tonight if you wanted to call.”
Claire looked up to get the third item. Efficient Lucy almost always waited to interrupt Claire until she had three things to say. “And?”
“I’ve got a patient with family history of polycystic kidney disease in A when you’re ready.”
The quartet disbanded and Claire picked up the phone. “Dr. McCall.”
Cathy Rivera laughed. “I’ll bet it’s fun to say that, isn’t it, Claire?”
“Old mentors never give you the respect you deserve.” Claire took a deep breath and pulled a stack of charts closer so she could sign office notes while she talked. “What’s up with Lena?”
“Look, I know this is the first day. She’s going to need some time.” She seemed to hesitate.
“But.”
“But I think there might be deeper issues here. I may need a psychiatrist referral.”
“Psych! She’s just scared. What are you seeing?”
“Denial. But that’s not what worries me. Not too many women want to admit the magnitude of their problems. She’s no different there. She came to group simply because I made her. Then she sat on the floor paying more attention to her shoes than anything else.”
“It’s the first day.”
“When I saw her one on one I had a difficult time sorting things out. She talked about two men. One seems like the ideal man, the other, the prize that beats her around.”
“Two men?” Claire started thinking about Billy Ray calling his wife a cheater.
“I get the feeling that she just invented the ideal husband to dream about. That’s not too uncommon. But the way she talked, I wondered if she wasn’t having some real difficulty knowing the difference between reality and fantasy.”
“What are you suspecting? A psychotic break, a personality split?”
“I’m not sure what to think. I’m willing to keep working with her, but I just wanted you to know that I may need some backup here.”
Claire sighed. “I really need to come back to Brighton to see her anyway about some other medical needs. You know she’s pregnant?”
The tone of Cathy’s response made it obvious. “Pregnant!” Then, softer, she added, slipping more heavily into the accent of her native Spanish language, “She’s been keeping that one a secret.”
“I think Lena has a lot of secrets. I’ll come talk to her tonight.”
“I’ve got her intake forms in front of me. Some of the answers she gave look very suspicious for a woman who has had more than just violent anger abuse. I’d bet she’s been sexually assaulted as well.”
“I can explore that with her tonight.”
“Thanks, Claire,” Cathy responded. “It sure is nice having you back in the area.”
Billy Ray crawled from his bed where he’d collapsed fully clothed the night before, plodded to the medicine cabinet in search of some aspirin, and cursed when he saw only empty shelves. Lena must have taken all the medicine as well. He’d have to opt for strong black coffee instead.
For most of the morning, he tried to restore some order to the clutter, moving randomly from bedroom to den and back, ignoring the kitchen except to clear a path to the coffeemaker.
He picked up the biggest shards of glass and uprighted his kitchen table using his right arm. The pain in his left arm was intense, and the wound was still oozing blood. He swept the floor, wiped up the spots of blood, and took out the trash, pausing to scratch Old Jeb and give him fresh water and food. When he returned to the house, he phoned the machine shop to call in sick before surrendering to the pain in his arm and his hangover and lying down on the couch. He could pull the furniture away from the front entrance when his arm was better.
It was there he saw their wedding picture. It normally sat on the desktop, but must have been thrown aside by Lena before she left. It was on the floor, leaning upside down against the wall, the glass shattered and the frame bent at an odd angle. With his head in his hands, Billy Ray began to cry. Lena had been too good to be true from the very beginning. She was so young and vibrant, filling the void that Rachel had carved in his soul. He’d promised himself that this marriage would be different, that he would stay away from the bottle, and he had, for a while.
Billy Ray cried about the secrets he’d kept. He should have been honest with Lena from the beginning. But it appeared that Lena had been keeping secrets of her own. Her pregnancy proved that. He should have known that he wouldn’t be able to keep a woman like Lena satisfied. She had always been the pretty one in high school. She had her pick of the guys her own age. So no one was more surprised than Billy Ray when she agreed to go out with him. But maybe it was because she was so unhappy at home. Her jerk of a father had made one too many mistakes with her, and had driven her straight into Billy Ray’s arms. When he thought of their first dates, he remembered how tearful she’d become when she talked about her father. He’d cried with her too. And that’s when she’d kissed him and he’d known they could make it together.
He’d been stupid to take her for granted. He’d known that he had to stay dry to be safe. But the pull of alcohol had been strong, and his old friends were no help at all. Lester and Eddie certainly knew how to have a good time. Maybe if Lena would have joined in more, and not bugged him, he wouldn’t have turned to his old patterns and they could
have partied together. But she didn’t like his friends, and his marriage began to stifle him. He still wanted to have some fun with his friends and if she wouldn’t come along, it wasn’t his fault. He’d go alone. It wasn’t wrong to need some space.
But space for Billy provided an irresistible attraction into the world of alcohol. And soon three or four drinks with his pals gave way to binges and blackouts and beatings. But now, with Lena gone, regret surfaced and made him wonder.
He slipped from the couch and picked up the fractured picture. Lena’s dress had cost him two weeks’ pay, and he hadn’t minded at all . . . until now. Could it really be the truth? Could Lena really be expecting their baby? Or could she have jumped to conclusions based on a false test? He knew Lena wanted to be pregnant. He had stalled and made one excuse after another, because he didn’t want her to know the truth. What had the doctor told him? “Your test results are in. There’s no need for birth control anymore, Mr. Chisholm.”
But maybe Lena’s test was wrong. Maybe he’d exploded for nothing. The thought sickened him. If she really wasn’t pregnant, he’d just ruined everything.
He shook his head as he contemplated the other option. That she was pregnant, and that she’d been living a lie, seeking other love when he turned back to his old friends. But who? Billy Ray had moved her to the country, away from her old boyfriends. Could it be someone at work? She always talked as if everyone there was married or a partyer.
A new thought struck him. What about the city slicker that Old Jeb treed? Why else would he be snoopin’ around my property making up lame excuses about something falling off his car?
He nodded to himself. Things were coming into sharper focus. That explained why he’d seen the red Mustang. That jerk must have come for her. Maybe Lena planned it this way all along and is just using her doctor friend as a cover. After all, the doctor wasn’t driving. It was the man.
Billy walked to the bedroom to put on a shirt. It was time to go into town. He needed some painkillers. If he could ease the pounding in his head, maybe he’d figure out a way to find the driver of the red Mustang. Anger could be useful if you channeled it in the proper direction. And Billy Ray had done just that.
Lena strolled slowly through the Brighton University commons, where ancient oaks lined brick sidewalks and students sat on wooden-slat benches or lay on the grass with open books. It was summertime at the university, and it lacked the bustle that Lena imagined would be present in the fall. Students were wearing shorts and tank tops, and sandals or flip-flops were the norm. She wished she had brought along a book to carry. Tomorrow she would. She’d seen some textbooks on a shelf back at the shelter. Tomorrow, she’d fit right in.
She was the right age for college. She even dreamed she would go one day. But Billy Ray had changed all that. As soon as they’d married, every time she brought up the idea of attending school, he talked about the money or just changed the subject or tried to kiss her ideas away.
She walked along, enjoying the fantasy of being a university student, walking arm in arm with William Raymond, like the other couples she saw. William pointed out the medical school building where he studied, and showed her his favorite soda shop where she purchased a Dr. Pepper and a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup for them to share. They sat down under a tree to eat and William kissed her tenderly, and then handed her a little box. He wasn’t sure how he’d lived so long without her.
Lena pulled the ring from her pant’s pocket and slid it onto her finger. The ring sparkled in the summer sun. William Raymond loved her. Life was good.
She crossed the lawn and walked by the library and another brick building with some sort of foreign phrase engraved on a stone above an arching doorway. She thought it must be Latin, but she wasn’t sure. She paused by an outside announcement center of some sort, a three-dimensional bulletin board in front of the student center. There, posters advertising local bands, notecards with items for sale, and other papers advertising apartment rentals and class notes were crammed in a cascade of color. She dreamed of having her own place. Maybe once she had a job, she would come back here to look. Two notes held particular interest for her, and she carefully took the phone numbers down, writing them on the palm of her left hand. The Brighton Crisis Pregnancy Center and Brighton Women’s Health Center ads were side by side. The health center offered family planning services. Lena knew enough to know what that meant, and she underlined the number on her palm to remind her which to call first. Dr. McCall hadn’t been too receptive about offering her an immediate referral, but promised she could bring her some prenatal vitamins and draw her blood for a confirmatory test when she returned.
Her concentration was broken by the tap of an all-too-familiar horn.
“I didn’t know when I was cruisin’ the campus that I’d run across a goddess.” Flirting wasn’t Eddie’s strong suit.
She looked up to see Billy Ray’s bowling buddy leaning from the open window of his Ford pickup. “What do you want, Eddie?”
He shoved his Ford into park and jumped out of the truck. She wanted to run. Was he looking for her? Working for Billy Ray?
He shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
She tried to be pleasant. But she wanted him to go away. She lifted her chin and looked away. “Me neither.”
Eddie shifted from foot to foot and seemed to be concentrating on her shorts. “Say, Lena,” he said as he cleared his throat, “Billy Ray told me you’d split. He’s pretty broken up about it. He wouldn’t even go to work today.”
It will be aweek till he can move his arm. I doubt he’s staying home over me. “Did he send you to look for me?”
“Naw. I just came over to pick up a few plumbing supplies. I always drive through this way. The scenery is better.”
And I’m sure the coeds like you and your truck, Eddie.“Oh.”
“Is there anything I can do for you? Need a truck for groceries or anything?”
The offer suprised her. She’d always figured Eddie was Billy Ray’s friend. She’d never thought he may think of her as a friend too. “Just do me a favor, Eddie. Don’t tell Billy Ray that you saw me.”
“He doesn’t know?”
“Does that surprise you?”
Eddie shrugged his shoulders through his orange tank top. “He just told me you’d left.”
“How is he?” She stammered, not really wanting Billy Ray to think she cared. “Uh, I mean, how did he act?”
“How would you expect, Lena? I know you must have your reasons, but I think you’d be a little heartbroken if he’d have done the same thing to you.”
His logic was lost on her. She wasn’t sure what kind of a slant Billy Ray had put on things.
Eddie lifted his eyes to meet hers, then looked away. She’d never been able to hold his gaze for more than a second or two. She’d heard once that body language for attraction is when a man won’t meet your eyes and hold your gaze. “He told me you had a new boyfriend.”
She wanted to protest, but just then, he grabbed her hand. “Whoa! Where’d you get this?”
Her hand went immediately to the ring to cover it, but it was too late. Eddie was oohing and oh manning, and was in general almost speechless over the sight of Lena’s diamond. “It’s just a ring, Eddie.”
“Billy Ray gave you this?”
She almost laughed. “No.”
He dropped her hand almost like it was hot. “Oh.” He started using his favorite adjectives. “Oh man. What is this guy, a doctor or something?” Then he just started shaking his head and cursed again. “Lena, you just left yesterday!”
“Come on, Eddie. I’m not like that. I don’t know why Billy Ray thinks that. I’m not cheatin’ on him.”
“Where’d you get the ring?”
Lena knew he wouldn’t believe the truth. Besides, she didn’t really care about saving face in front of Eddie. And she was still so hurt and angry at Billy Ray. Her mind went blank. “You just tell him that
if you want to, Eddie. Tell him my boyfriend gave it to me.”
He stood fidgeting from foot to foot as if he had an itch he couldn’t scratch. Then he just shook his head and walked toward his truck, muttering choice words from his limited vocabulary.
He was in his truck and pulling out when she called his name. “Eddie!” she shouted. “Don’t tell him where I am!”
She sighed as Eddie slowed momentarily, then nodded and drove away.
She swore under her breath. Is Eddie likely to keep my secret? “Right,” she answered herself sarcastically, watching his truck disappear. I’m going to have to leave here soon.
Claire picked up the chart in the rack outside the exam room door. She had three patients left and she’d already passed the four-thirty mark, so she knew Lisa wouldn’t allow another walk-in, short of someone receiving CPR in the parking lot.
The chart was for Stephanie Blackwell, a thirty-year-old woman in for premarital genetics counseling. Great. Like I’m an expert in this. Claire carefully reviewed Lucy’s handwritten chart entry, which mentioned a personal history of irregular menses and a family history of polycystic kidney disease. Lucy had written, “October wedding planned. Patient wondering about genetics counseling.” Claire looked at the patient’s blood pressure. It was 126/82 and appeared to have been recorded by Cyrus.
This ought to be interesting. I’m the one who needs genetics counseling. Claire opened the door to see an attractive woman, appearing younger than her stated age. Claire reached out her hand. “I’m Dr. McCall. How can I help you?”
The woman sat with her hands folded over a paper drape and was wearing a disposable examination gown. “I’d like to talk about getting a test to see if I’m going to develop polycystic kidney disease.”
Claire looked at the chart. She had been a patient of Dr. Jenkins for years, and although he’d seen her for relatively minor illnesses, when he recommended screening for polycystic kidney disease on numerous previous visits, the patient always declined. “Why now? I see you weren’t interested in the past.”