by Lynn Bulock
“I noticed. What have you been eating?” Now that I looked at her, Linnette looked thinner than usual. Like me, she could usually stand to shed a few pounds, but now it appeared to be fewer than usual.
She shrugged in answer to my question. “Not enough of anything, I guess. I’m just not hungry most of the time.”
“And you’ve been so busy at work, with the book buy-back for the end of the semester, and doing the ordering for next fall and setup for summer school that you haven’t been exercising, either, have you?”
She shook her head and I noticed tears in her eyes. Everything together sounded a huge alarm for me. We’d talked about the signs and symptoms of depression in our Christian Friends meetings more than once. “Okay, how bad is it? You’re not eating, not sleeping well and haven’t been exercising.”
Linnette looked down, picking at a fuzzy pill on the granny-square afghan. “It’s bad, Gracie Lee.” She was silent for a while and I didn’t press her. She needed to get this out in her own time. “It’s worse than it’s ever been and it just crept up on me. I woke up about four thinking that it would be so nice if I could go back to sleep and not wake up again.”
I felt as if someone had poured ice water through my insides. “Are you sure we shouldn’t go to the emergency room?”
She looked up quickly. “Positive. I’ll explain about that later. For now let’s pray together and wait for the sun to come up. After that I’ll put a call in to my doctor or whoever is on call for her, and we’ll start putting me back together.”
“We can start doing that right now,” I told my best friend, grasping her cool fingers in my hands and scooting my chair closer to the recliner. I tried to keep my voice from betraying the fear I felt as I began praying out loud. Sunrise couldn’t come soon enough.
TWO
By noon I’d driven Linnette to the offices of the counseling group she’d used in the past. Their attractive, calm, waiting room featured soothing music played over artfully hidden speakers and a tabletop fountain that burbled on a console in one corner. The music was nice, but I wondered about the fountain. Surely I wasn’t the only person in the waiting room that had distracting physical symptoms with the sound of running water. We hadn’t quite gotten settled yet before a pretty woman with silver hair came out and called her name.
“Aw, sweetie,” she said, looking into Linnette’s face as she rose from her seat. “Come back here and tell me what’s going on.” They disappeared into an office and I looked over the magazines on the coffee table. Unlike a lot of doctor’s offices, these at least bore this year’s date.
By the time Linnette came back forty-five minutes later I had all kinds of great ideas on redecorating my apartment, none of which could be achieved on my budget. My current landlady was another Christian Friends member, Dot Morgan. The recent kitchen and bath remodel was functional and nice-looking, but it needed some touches to give it personality. Unfortunately most home magazine ideas would eat more paycheck than it took to feed the two of us for a month.
“I’ll call you tonight. And again tomorrow morning, okay?” The woman I assumed was Linnette’s doctor looked over rainbow-framed half-glasses waiting for an answer.
“All right. And I’ll answer the phone, even if I don’t want to,” Linnette told her. She introduced me to the doctor and told her that I was the chauffeur for the time being.
“Great. It’s good to know you’ve got a support system. You’ll need it for a while.”
Linnette’s smile looked a little stronger. “I always need it. Thanks for being part of it.” We left and she filled me in on what would happen next while we waited in the elevator lobby.
“First I hit the pharmacy, and then we go home so that I can make a couple phone calls. The good doctor wants me to be in counseling to go along with the medication, of course. And naturally my insurance won’t pay for her rate because she’s a psychiatrist. So she referred me to a therapy group for women run out of Playa del Sol.”
“Where’s that?” I knew the names of most of the local hospitals, and that wasn’t one of them that I recognized.
“It’s a private place halfway between here and Ventura. They have inpatient treatment for addiction problems and emotional illnesses. Fortunately they also have outpatient therapy, because that’s all my budget can handle right now.”
Once we got to the car Linnette thanked me again. “I’ll pay for your gas while you ferry me all over the county,” she said, getting in the passenger side of my compact.
“Don’t worry about that now. Let’s get you to the pharmacy and maybe swing by a grocery store to pick up a few things that might tempt you.”
“That will be a challenge. Nothing sounds real good right now.” She didn’t have to tell me that, the way her clothes fit. Still, I knew it was important to get her to eat something.
It didn’t work too well; she only picked at lunch when I fixed it. “I guess I ought to call the hospital to see how soon I can get into Ms. Barnes’s therapy group. I’ll still need a driver the first few times. Are you up for that or should I count on cabs?”
“You’re joking, right? I’m up for that. I’m surprised you even had to ask.”
She shrugged. “I can’t make you do everything. Should I make it an evening group for your convenience, or morning?”
“Go for morning,” I told her. Maria usually wanted me later in the day at the Coffee Corner. “What did you say the therapist’s name was?”
“Nicole Barnes. Why?”
“It rings a bell, and I hope it isn’t for the reason I think it is.” While she went into the next room and made her phone call I pulled out my cell phone and made one of my own to Ben.
Fortunately my son was between classes and answered his phone. Cell phones with Caller ID make calls so much less of a surprise. “Hi, Mom. I’ve been meaning to call you,” my offspring said in a tone that suggested something he didn’t really want to discuss with me, at least on the phone.
For a change I decided not to push the issue. One crisis at a time is usually enough for me. “Hi, Ben. I’ve got a question for you. What is your dad’s fiancée’s full name?”
There was a pause. “I thought you didn’t want to know anything more about her.”
I still didn’t, but life was forcing the issue. “I changed my mind.”
Ben sighed. “Nicole Barnes. Does this mean you want to meet her, after all?” I’d resisted all attempts from Ben and his father to get to know my ex-husband’s much younger fiancée since they moved to the area in February from Nashville, where Hal had lived since our divorce sixteen years ago. He’d been sweet-talked back home then by his mother, and he’d stayed in the area until this year, a move that had kind of blindsided me.
I hadn’t figured Hal to be the type to fall for a graduate student at Vanderbilt more than a decade his junior but that wasn’t the thing that surprised me the most. The fact that Nicole was his fiancée didn’t bother me as much as the fact that he hadn’t even told Ben all of this until last Christmas after it was all a done deal.
Apparently, Hal and Nicole, a California girl, had been quite the item long before he’d given her his mother’s diamond ring before Christmas. But Ben didn’t know anything until he met Nicole when he’d visited Hal for the holidays, and Hal had left Ben to tell me. The whole situation made me less than eager to meet Nicole or have much conversation with Hal, either.
“Not really but it looks like I’m going to anyway.” While I wouldn’t tell Ben the specifics of how I would likely meet his future stepmother, I’d definitely fill in Linnette. Maybe, I thought, the information would give her another smile today. I hoped it was good for a laugh for somebody.
*
Linnette wasn’t all that thrilled when I told her about Nicole’s second identity as Hal’s fiancée. “If you want to back out on taking me to therapy, I’ll understand.”
I waved a hand, showing a lot more confidence than I really felt. “Not a problem. We were bound to run into each other som
ewhere anyway. And besides, I’m just the driver here. The therapy is for you, remember?”
“Right, but we usually look out for each other as Christian Friends. Why should this time be any different?”
If I had to list the ways Linnette had looked out for me so far, I’d run out of space long before I ran out of favors. She invited me to the group in the first place when she found me having a meltdown in the college bookstore where she’s the assistant manager. She’d seen me through the death of my husband, and she’d helped me get the job at the Coffee Corner when I needed money and distraction. And all that was just in the first month she’d known me.
I owed her more already than I could say, and I told her so in a firm and friendly way. She wasn’t thinking all that straight right now and I didn’t want her to get feelings of guilt over something this minor. At least I could convince myself it would be minor. If I did things right perhaps I wouldn’t ever run into Nicole.
I continued to convince myself of that in the evening when I stopped by the apartment quickly for a few things, planning to head back to Linnette’s to spend the night. I had to give Ben a call back to explain why I’d asked about Nicole before, without telling him any more about Linnette. He knew her, and I figured that if she wanted to share her illness with him eventually she could do so.
For now all he needed to know was that my meeting Nicole had to do with “a Christian Friends thing” and that was enough explanation for him. My son viewed the activities of my all-female support group at church with as much enthusiasm as he did the Lifetime channel on cable.
I’d hung up talking to him and grabbed my books when the phone rang. At first I decided not to touch it, and then changed my mind when the Caller ID showed the Ventura County Sheriff’s Department. “Hey, there. Staying late at work?” Only after I’d said that by way of greeting did I think that it might not be the handsome detective I expected on the other end of the line.
He laughed, obviously thinking the same thing. “If I were a little meaner I would have disguised my voice and tried to sell you tickets to a charity event,” Ray said.
“Fortunately for me, you’re not quite that mean. How are you doing, Detective Fernandez?”
“Well enough to wonder why you’re being that formal, Gracie Lee.”
“Hey, if you were offering to sell me charity tickets you might have me on speakerphone. Have to keep up appearances, don’t I?”
“Nah, everybody that counts knows we’re seeing each other, and they also know that you’re no longer part of any case I’m involved in. The really trusted few even know that it isn’t serious yet. Not that I wouldn’t mind changing that.”
My sigh was automatic. “Ray, I don’t feel like going into that tonight.” My reasons for not getting more involved with Ray all centered around faith, and the discussion got tangled every time we talked.
“You sound tired. What’s up?”
I told him as much as Linnette and I agreed upon. There was a silence on his end of the line when I finished. “Wow. Now there’s something that could get me praying for somebody else. You know how much I like Linnette. And I get the feeling that things might be even more serious than you’re letting on.”
Now I fell silent, leaving him to jump in again and fill the gap. “That’s okay, don’t confirm it. I would rather not know because legally I’d be skating on thin ice if I knew too much.”
“What do you mean? Linnette said something earlier I didn’t understand and I forgot to ask her then.”
Ray didn’t disappoint me. If he ever gives up police work he can go straight to the college lecture scene. “California law, like most other states, has a pretty firm policy on some things, and talking about depression is one of them. If I heard from someone that they or someone they knew well had suicidal thoughts, or any ideas on taking action that might harm themselves, there is only one choice I can make. That person becomes an involuntary patient in a locked facility for at least seventy-two hours.”
A chill ran down my spine. I thanked God that I hadn’t said anything that might put Linnette in that situation. At least she knew about it in advance and had warned me. “I see. Thank you for explaining it to me.”
“Any time. Now go keep your friend company and we’ll talk in a day or two when we both have more time. If you’ve got a couple hours on the weekend, there are some movies out there we might both enjoy.” I promised to think about it and we wished each other good night.
My relationship with Ray Fernandez was tenuous at best. He was a good man, honest and direct. Those qualities made him a more than competent detective. He looked the part, too, always handsome and sharply dressed. But he knew that after two marriages ending badly I wasn’t about to get serious with somebody without a strong faith life. My sigh echoed through the front room of the apartment as I gathered my things to go back to Linnette’s. We’d both need a little of that chocolate I packed tonight.
THREE
Wednesday I drove Linnette to her first appointment at Playa del Sol. Linnette acted as the navigator on a beautiful spring morning. It made both of us wish my car had a sunroof. Just the fact that she felt able to say that made me think things might be looking up for my friend.
With lattes in the cup holders, one of Ben’s Christian rock CDs in the player and our sunglasses on, the mood felt as light as possible. The hospital was surrounded by two-story-tall palm trees and looked like a replica of the Spanish missions that dotted Southern California. Pale stucco and dark beams drew the eye away from the small windows and few doors. “Some of the units are lock-down,” Linnette said softly as we parked. “That’s why it looks so grim on the wings of the building. Where I’m going is open, though.”
We went through a lobby area where both of us had our purses gone through by a security guard. Linnette got directed down a hallway while they ushered me into a small courtyard to wait. I carried my book bag, which passed inspection, and my pad of small sticky tabs to mark the places in the books that might prove to be good research for my thesis project. By the end of the summer my proposal would be due and I was getting nervous about it.
Several people walked back and forth through the courtyard while I read. I tried not to pay too much attention to anyone in case they wanted their privacy. At one point someone who looked like a hospital employee ushered another woman through toward where Linnette had gone. The woman she escorted drew my attention with her looks and gestures. Wiry and slightly askew in more ways than one, her clothing told me she lived at the hospital, at least temporarily. She wore sock-style slippers with vinyl-coated nonskid soles and a set of hospital gowns, one worn backward over the other to provide coverage.
“I used to be Diana, Princess of Wales, before they buried me,” the woman said to no one in particular, doing a perfect imitation of the elegant wave made famous by the British royal family. Her dark brown hair made a halo around her head and she looked none too steady on her feet despite the traction of the slippers. The woman escorting her tried to keep her on track.
“Come on, Zoë, you need to get to therapy now. They don’t like holding up the group for you, remember? And you promised Nicole that you’d work on timeliness this week,” she chided. Her contrast to her patient couldn’t have been more vivid. The woman in pale scrubs and sensible white clogs appeared to be a world away from the other one. Not only did she look professional and together, and at least ten years younger than her charge, she had at least six inches in height and about thirty pounds on her charge.
At first I wondered why they thought they needed someone that sturdy to escort a frail soul like Zoë. The nurse or aide, with a heavy braid of blond hair down her back, looked as though her ancestors brought some Viking stock to California. Meanwhile Zoë looked like a good puff of wind would blow her away. Then she did a turn and breakaway move that looked like something out of a kung fu movie. “There are agents at therapy. I can’t go there without my protective gear,” she said, sounding panicked.
T
he speed and force of her movement made me think about getting off my bench to head for the hills. I mean, I had no idea what her “agents” looked like and didn’t want to be mistaken for one. Something told me that wouldn’t be healthy for either of us. Before I moved and scattered my books, the nurse had the situation defused.
Her response was quick for someone of her size, making me believe she’d had plenty of practice. In a heartbeat she had both of Zoë‘s shoulders in a firm grasp, turning her toward their destination again. “We’ve talked about that, Zoë, remember? The protection is built into the walls here, and it’s not safe to have you carrying around your foil and insulation. Now let’s get to your group before Nicole gets annoyed.”
Distracted, Zoë gave the royal wave again. “Nicole never gets annoyed with me. She’s part of my adoring public.” After that they cruised out of sight with no more incidents. It took me a few minutes to settle back down to my reading. Linnette, I figured, might have some stories to share when she got back.
I’d almost gotten back into my work when I felt a presence in front of me. Looking up I saw the employee who had been escorting Zoë. “First time here?” she asked, smiling.
She looked perceptive and sympathetic at the same time. I noticed that her ID badge said Catalina and listed her as an RN. “It is. Do I look that much like a deer in the headlights?”
She laughed softly. “Not all that much, but out of the corner of my eye I could see your reaction to the patient I was escorting. I wanted to stop to reassure you that almost everybody here is basically harmless. They have their own demons haunting them, but outside civilians don’t usually have any problems with the patients.”
“Thanks. It’s nice to know that. My name’s Gracie Lee and you might see me here a few more times. I’m a friend’s designated driver for some therapy sessions.”
“Great. I’m Cat and normally I’m on the day shift with ambulatory inpatients, so we’ll probably run into each other if you keep driving your friend. Hang in there, and thanks for doing something kind for somebody else. You’d be amazed how many people get abandoned by their friends once mental illness enters their life.”