Better to Trust

by Frimmer, Heather

  The elevator dinged and the doors opened on the second floor. Nancy stepped out without a second look, the cloying smell of rose perfume trailing in her wake.

  “Hilary is taking seven AP classes, and her mock trial team is moving on to the state finals, and of course you know about the spelling bee. And Landon just made varsity volleyball ….”

  The elevator finally opened on the first floor, allowing Grant to escape with a wave over his shoulder. He walked quickly down the corridor, trying to get Nancy Kovatch out of his mind. He didn’t understand why she’d to be so nasty about this whole thing. So he took a few pills to help optimize his performance. That wasn’t the end of the world. She acted like that made him less than human, not even worthy of acknowledgement.

  He stopped for a minute to look out the window, cars double parked in front of the main entrance of the hospital. One of the valets was helping an elderly man transfer from a wheelchair into the passenger seat of a car, his head wrapped in a thick swath of bandages. Grant couldn’t help wondering when he would be able to operate again, how he would navigate his way through this mess in order to clear his name. Nancy Kovatch certainly wasn’t going to make it easy for him. After his family, he loved his job more than anything else in the world: the feeling of separating a malignant tumor from the healthy brain tissue, the gratification of draining a hematoma, the satisfaction of giving someone their life back. He couldn’t fathom how he would go on if he was stripped of his career.

  The waiting room was empty. Grant wondered why Laura wasn’t at the front desk. He hoped the staff hadn’t taken advantage of his absence by slipping out early. When he got to his office, Wendy and Laura were sitting in the two chairs facing his desk. Maybe Wendy wanted to fit in quick performance review while he was there.

  “I sent everyone else home,” Wendy said.

  “No problem,” he said, trying to sound easygoing. Really, he hated the idea of paying people to do nothing, but he wasn’t in any position to argue today. “I’ll sign everything and get out of your way.”

  He took a seat in his chair, and Wendy passed the checks and a few forms across the desk. After scribbling his signature a few times and quickly filling in the forms, Grant stood to leave.

  “There’s another reason I called you in today,” Wendy said.

  After working with Wendy for so long, Grant could tell this had nothing to do with Laura’s job performance. He sat back down, bracing himself for whatever she was about to say.

  “First of all, you know I love working for you and that I always have your best interests in mind,” she said.

  “Of course,” he said. “And this practice wouldn’t run half as smoothly as it does without you. We’re never going to let you retire,” he said, trying to ease the tension with a shameless compliment. Laura sat with her hands clasped on her lap and her eyes fixed on the window behind him. He thought of throwing a compliment her way too, but he didn’t want to overdo it.

  “Right,” Wendy said, her eyes roaming. “So, I wanted to speak with you about some things I’ve noticed lately. I was concerned with your demeanor in the OR during Mrs. Jacobs’ surgery. You seemed altered. Something wasn’t quite right—”

  “It’s been a high stress situation for everyone. I think the pressure got to me.”

  “It seemed like more than that to me,” she said. “Yesterday, I took the opportunity to organize your office, and I found the pills in the bottom drawer.”

  “Oh, that’s what your worried about?” he gave a tense laugh, trying his best to brush off her discovery. “I collect them from patients when they’re pain free. It’s not a big deal.”

  “It seems pretty important to me.”

  “What are you saying?” He’d tried to stay calm, but now he couldn’t keep his anger below the surface. “Is this some sort of intervention?”

  “I think you need help, Dr. Kaplan,” Wendy said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He couldn’t believe Wendy had the nerve to stage this ridiculous conversation. Had she heard about the committee firing squad through the hospital rumor mill? “Laura, could you excuse us for a minute?”

  Laura didn’t have to be asked twice, escaping the room in a flash.

  “I can’t believe your fucking nerve Wendy,” Grant said, once Laura had gone and closed the door behind her. “And in the presence of another employee to boot.”

  “You have to know I’m trying to do what’s best for you. We’ve worked together for a long time.”

  “I came in to sign checks and meanwhile you planned a staged attack.”

  “It’s not an attack,” she said. “You know I care about you. I want to make sure you get the help you need.”

  Grant met Wendy’s eyes, looking for some sign of spite or ulterior motive, but he saw only tenderness and allegiance. By his side since he’d begun practicing, Wendy would have no reason to broach this topic other than concern for his health and the well-being of his patients. The look on her face made Grant realize it was time to come out from behind the facade of false bravado. He let his shoulders drop from around his ears and took a deep breath.

  “I understand,” he said. His thoughts turned to what Cynthia had said in the ICU when he’d told her about the committee meeting. Perhaps she was right. Maybe it was time to take this seriously, to prioritize his marriage and his family over the operating room for once in his life.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Alison

  November 15, 2019

  THE AUDITORIUM BUZZED with excitement, parents chattering and little kids running up and down the aisles. Alison had decided to leave her cane at home in an attempt to look as healthy as possible for her first visit to school since her surgery. Tonight, she wanted the spotlight to remain on Nate and his show, but she still couldn’t stomach looks of pity from the other teachers. Becca held her by the right arm while she fished the tickets from her purse with her other hand.

  “C12 and 13,” Alison said. She felt a flutter in her chest at the thought of them sitting together right up front. Using Becca’s arm to steady her, she made her way down the ramp toward the stage. Because Becca adored Nate, Alison had decided to invite her to the play, but now she felt torn. She was excited to be there with her, but also anxious that they might draw attention away from Nate on his big day. As they found their seats in the third row, Priscilla Weaver, the principal, crossed the front of the auditorium waving at them.

  “Alison, it’s so nice to see you out and about,” Priscilla said as she came up the aisle. “I had to bounce over and welcome you back.” At faculty meetings, they used to count how many times Priscilla used the word “bounce,” keeping tallies in their notebooks and comparing totals at the end.

  “Nice to see you, too,” Alison said.

  “Rave reviews of our play brought you in?”

  “I couldn’t miss Nate’s big debut.” As Alison spoke, she felt people’s eyes on her. They must have noticed Priscilla’s excitement and looked over to see what was going on. A warm flush crept up her face.

  “I’m sure Becca has been keeping you apprised of the goings on here at Newton Elementary, hasn’t she?” Priscilla said.

  “That’s Alison Jacobs,” Alison heard a woman behind her say in a loud whisper. “The teacher who had the stroke.” Alison used to like being the center of attention, but that had been for positive things—debate team in high school, welcoming parents on back-to-school night, teaching a spin class at the gym—but now people were looking at her because she was weak, wounded, an unfortunate victim.

  “Of course,” Becca said. “We talk about school all the time.”

  “When can we expect you back in the classroom?” Priscilla asked. “We’ve missed you here.”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “She doesn’t seem sick,” the woman behind her said.

  “You’ve really bounced back,” Priscilla said. “I remember when I visited you in the hospital. I wasn’t sure you’d ever be able to rejo
in our staff.”

  “She’s really doing well,” Becca said. “Maybe soon, right?”

  “I …” Alison didn’t know how to answer. Even though she’d made great progress, she didn’t feel ready to manage a classroom of ten-year-olds. Dealing with the girls’ catty drama and the boys’ discussion of farts and video games was beyond her current abilities. She had enough trouble getting herself out of bed and eating breakfast without dribbling food on her shirt.

  “Let’s talk this week,” Priscilla said.

  As she walked away, Becca held her hand up to her ear, her thumb and pinky making a telephone receiver, and mouthed the words “Call me” with a devious smile. Alison stifled a laugh, glad that Becca was making light of the conversation. The focus today should be on Nate’s show, not on if, or when, she would return to work.

  Alison turned around to survey the room and noticed Michael seated towards the back. He gave her a nod and she smiled back. Robin Weintraub, Cynthia’s annoying tennis partner, glanced from him to Alison with a questioning look.

  Alison ignored Robin and turned around.

  The light dimmed, quieting the chatter in the auditorium. When the curtain parted, the children filled the stage wearing straw skirts and colorful face make-up, a large orange sun glowing from the backdrop. As they started singing “The Circle of Life,” Alison scanned the stage for Nate and found him on the left, beaming into the audience. Following his gaze, Alison saw Rhea sitting at the other end of the row in front of them, her face bursting with pride.

  When the song ended and Nate walked off stage, Alison found it harder to focus, distracted by the warmth of Becca’s arm next to her, the way her legs were crossed, the smell of her spearmint gum.

  “He’s the best one up there,” Becca said.

  “Wait until you see his song.” He’d performed his part of the duet for Alison countless times in her kitchen, but she was excited to see him sing with his partner under the lights. They sat through a few more scenes and songs, some better than others, until Nate’s big moment finally arrived. He had changed into a brown striped onesie and a fur cap. The girl playing Pumba wore a hat shaped like a warthog.

  They begin singing and when they reached the familiar chorus, the audience began to sing along. Nate and his partner did some cute choreography, linking arms and swinging in circles around each other. Halfway through the song, the other kids returned to the stage and joined in while the audience continued singing and clapping to the beat. Even the women behind them joined in. It felt good to forget her problems for a few minutes.

  When Becca sang, the air whistled ever so slightly as it passed through the gap in her front teeth. Her singing voice was barely even in tune, but Alison couldn’t imagine a sweeter sound. When Becca reached over to take her hand, Alison’s first instinct was to pull hers back, for fear of who might see or what they might think. Instead, she left it there and allowed Becca’s finger to intertwine with hers. At that moment, she didn’t care who saw them—Robin Weintraub or Priscilla Weaver or the nosy women behind them. She wanted to hold Becca’s hand and to hell with anyone who had a problem with that.

  The crowd filled the lobby, waiting to congratulate the little actors on a job well done. The mother of the kid who played Simba stood by the door holding a bouquet of flowers. The villain lion weaved his way through the crowd trailed by a few of the hyenas. Becca took Alison’s hand again as they walked through the crowded space. They passed Priscilla Weaver, Liza Diaz, one of the kindergarten teachers, and Kyle Sampson, the office secretary. Their stares made the blood rush to Alison’s head.

  Alison saw Nate at the other side of the lobby, surrounded by adoring fans.

  “Let’s go congratulate the star,” Becca said. They passed a group of cast members belting Hakuna Matata and a bunch of others jumping around cheering.

  Nate held a cookie bouquet wrapped in clear plastic, tied in a festoon of green ribbons. A smile covered his face as several people complimented him on his singing and comic timing. Adele Logan, the music teacher and director of the show, stood in a nearby group, but Alison didn’t see Rhea anywhere. When Nate saw Alison, his eyes lit up.

  “Mrs. Jacobs, you came!” He wrapped his arms around Alison’s waist. “I didn’t know if you would.”

  “Amazing.” Alison returned his hug, relishing the unconditional love emanating from his small body. “We’re so proud of you.”

  “We wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Becca said. “You were terrific.”

  “Now I know why they say being onstage is an adrenaline rush.” Nate said.

  “Isn’t he a little star?” Adele Logan said, turning around and putting her arm around Nate’s shoulder. “Next stop, Broadway.”

  Alison smiled. “On the express train.”

  “How are you, Alison?” Adele asked. “I heard you’ve had a tough recovery.”

  “Yes. But I’m in a good place now.”

  “That’s great to hear,” she said. “And Michael? How’s he been?”

  “We’re no longer together.” Alison glanced at Becca, wondering how she felt about this line of questioning.

  “It’s okay,” Nate jumped in. “Mrs. Jacobs and Ms. Corrie are a couple now.”

  Alison’s heart sank. One of the things she loved about Nate was his open-mindedness and willingness to accept everyone for who they were, but this wasn’t the right time or place for this discussion.

  “I had no idea,” Adele said, a look of confusion on her face.

  “They’re good together,” Nate said.

  “Oh,” Adele said. “I didn’t know.”

  “Um …” Alison desperately wanted to change the topic, but she couldn’t think of what to say.

  “Yes, we are,” Becca said, raised their clasped hands in the air.

  “No … I,” Alison’s cheeks flushed with anger. It wasn’t Becca’s place to insert herself here.

  “Better late than never,” Nate said.

  “Absolutely,” Becca said.

  Alison let go of Becca’s hand and buried hers in the pockets of her jeans.

  When they turned to leave, Alison noticed Michael standing by the door, a woman she didn’t recognize at his side. She tried to pivot, but it was too late. He called out her name.

  “What’s he doing here?” Becca asked.

  “I guess Nate asked him to come,” Alison said, as they reached Michael.

  “Nate was awesome,” Michael said.

  “Yes,” Alison said. “He really was.”

  “With all his talk about the show,” Michael said, “I wasn’t sure what to expect. It was really cute.”

  “So cute.” She looked over at Becca, hoping she would find a way to extricate them from this conversation.

  “He’s a great kid,” Becca said. “One of the school leaders.”

  “Hello, Becca,” Michael said. “Nice to see you again.” The pleasantries seemed odd. This certainly wasn’t the guy who’d lashed out at the bookstore or the one who’d had a hard time sitting down at mediation. “This is Sarah.” He placed his hand on the woman’s back.

  “Nice to meet you,” Sarah said.

  Alison gave Michael a look. Sarah was disgustingly adorable with her upturned nose and wavy dark hair. What was he trying to pull? He could have at least given her a heads up. Was this his announcement that he was over her and ready to move on? Or maybe he was just using Sarah to make her jealous. Either way, it felt like a punch to the gut. She wasn’t expecting another woman to appear on the scene so soon. Her eyes started to burn, but she willed herself not to cry in front of Sarah.

  “There’s been a lot of change,” he said, “but I’m starting to wrap my head around it. I got your email by the way. I understand.”

  “Really?” Alison knew there was no way he’d come to a place of acceptance so quickly, but she had to play along with his act. “I’m so glad.”

  “It’s an ongoing process,” he said, putting his arm around Sarah’s shoulders. “But there’s lig
ht at the end of the tunnel.”

  “Wow.” Now he was really laying it on thick. Alison didn’t think she could stomach any more of his platitudes.

  “Mrs. Jacobs,” Nate came up behind her. “We’re all going to the diner. Do you wanna come?”

  “Maybe,” Alison said. The last thing she wanted to do was sit at the diner with Becca, Rhea, and Adele, but she was thankful for Nate’s well-timed interruption. She’d figure out how to get out of it once they were in the car.

  CHAPTER FORTY - ONE

  Sadie

  April 2, 2019

  SADIE WALKED BEHIND EMMA, her own backpack on one shoulder and Emma’s on the other, trying not to bump anyone along the way. The hallway seemed even busier than usual today. It was Emma’s first day back at school, and Sadie was doing her best to help her navigate on crutches, making sure Emma wouldn’t get hurt again on her watch. Though Emma was barely speaking to her, she did allow Sadie to carry her things between classes.

  “What happened to you?” Tyler Blundell yelled as Emma hobbled past.

  “Stupid accident,” Emma said.

  Stupid accident was right. The events of that night had played over and over in Sadie’s head for the past week. If only she’d decided to leave when Piper pulled out the joint, if only she’d grabbed the bottle of pills before Emma took them, if only she had accepted help from that nurse after the show, but there was no way to go back and change any of that now. What’s done was done.

  “No more spinning in circles?” Tyler said.

  Mason Brock, captain of the football team stood next to him. “What about the Olympics?” he asked.

  “If this is wrong, I don’t wanna be Wright,” Tyler said.

  “Good one, man,” Mason said.

  Emma ignored their dumb comments and kept going. Sadie had expected the kids at school would talk about Emma’s accident, but the reality proved even worse than she’d imagined. Sadie knew it may take a while to earn back Emma’s trust, but she was willing to do whatever it took to prove herself worthy.