by Loy Holder
“Of course. We may not be back here for a while.” She collected all his shirts and folded them into his suitcase.
In a louder voice, so that Regina could hear, she said, “OK, you two. Let’s get going.”
Liz ushered the children out of the house, past Deputy Hansen, who’d been standing guard on the front porch. After she had settled the children into the back seat of the car with their belongings, she placed her own bag on the front seat and shut the passenger door. Deputy Hansen stood watching on the sidewalk, and she joined him.
He ran a hand through his hair. “Won’t you reconsider pressing charges?” His eyes were pleading for a yes.
“No.” She met his eyes with a frown. “I’m sorry you don’t like my decision.”
He shook his head. “Well, at least get a restraining order on him.”
“I’ll work on that.” Liz got in her car and gave him a weak smile through the window. “Thanks for your help.”
He mumbled, “You’re welcome,” and backed away from her car. She caught a brief glimpse of him in the rearview mirror, shaking his head as she pulled away from the curb.
* * *
Chapter two
Lucille Frantz was at her front window watching for Liz and her children. When she saw them pull up, she walked out and peered at the children asleep on the back seat. “Goodness, Liz. There’s no doubt these are your kids. They’ve got your hair. Hey, kids.” Lucille crooned to them through the open window to wake them. Their eyes popped open, and they stared at her. “Yep, they got your blue eyes, too.” Lucille motioned to them. “Come on in the house, kids. Here, I’ll help you with your things.”
She opened the car door and grabbed the children’s belongings while Liz gathered her suitcase and some McDonald’s food. “Mm, it smells like Mommy brought dinner. Let’s go in and eat.”
Liz followed them inside and spotted the kitchen. She set the food on the counter and ducked into the closest bathroom. Lucille led the children through her living room and down a short hall into a bedroom. “Can you tell me your names?”
Ronnie grinned. “Yes, I’m Ronnie, and this is my sister, Regina. I’m four, but she’s only three.” Regina was busy staring around the room and rubbing her eyes.
“Thank you, Ronnie. My name is Lucille, and this is where you’re going to sleep. Will this do?”
Ronnie pointed. “Yes, but how come two beds?”
“So you and Regina can have your own bed.”
“Where’s Mommy sleeping?” Regina frowned.
Lucille set their things down and took Regina’s hand. “I’ll take you on a complete tour of the house after we eat dinner. Then you’ll know where Mommy sleeps and where the bathroom is. OK?”
Still a little unsure of the situation, Regina frowned. “But I can’t eat without my dollies.”
“Are they in here?” Lucille patted the pink suitcase she’d set on the bed.
Regina spotted the suitcase, opened it, and showed her dollies to Lucille with a big grin. “Yes, here they are. Now I can eat.”
Lucille laughed. “Good. Let’s go.” She led them into a cheerful kitchen. Blue curtains framed the windows, and a blue tablecloth covered the large white kitchen table. A white, antiqued pie safe set against one wall, and colorful books and plants filled its upper shelves. It had been converted to a desk, and a typewriter and phone were on the center shelf. “OK, kids. Just sit at the table, and I’ll get your dinner.” Lucille put the hamburgers and fries on plates. “Liz, where are you? Come eat before it gets cold.”
Liz stuck her head into the hall. “I’m in the bathroom, washing up. You guys go ahead. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Liz winced as she tried to eat her food. Lucille distracted the kids with small talk so Liz didn’t have to talk. When they were finished eating, Lucille did a quick cleanup. “Come on, kids. Let’s go see the rest of the house.”
They started with the living room. The piano immediately caught Ronnie’s eye. He made a beeline for the keys and touched the C and D major keys. He looked up at Lucille. “Can you play?”
“Well, I haven’t played in a long time.” Lucille frowned. “I guess I could give it a try.” She sat on the piano bench, and both children crowded around her. She placed her long fingers on the keys and started playing Claude Debussy’s “Clair de Lune.” The children sat without saying a word. Liz stood behind them and seemed as captivated as her children by the beautiful music.
When Lucille stopped playing, Ronnie patted Lucille on the arm. “Can you play some more, please?”
Lucille stretched her fingers over the keys, ready to play another piece when Liz said, “No. Come on now. It’s bedtime. Lucille can play for you again another time.”
“OK, just let me just finish the tour I promised,” Lucille said. “It will only take a few minutes, Liz.”
She took them to her office. There was an attached bathroom with another door that led to the pool in the backyard. Next, she took them back through the living room and down a short hall to another bedroom. “Your mommy is going to sleep in here, and she has a bathroom just like the one in your bedroom.”
Finally, Lucille showed them her bedroom. Ronnie’s eyes got huge. “Wow, it’s big. Where’s your bathroom?”
She pointed. “It’s in here.” They followed her into a bath with a corner fireplace and white claw-foot tub centered under a large window covered with sheer white curtains. Bright turquoise towels added color to the otherwise pristine white room. Lucille glanced at the children. Regina was sitting on the bathroom floor, and Ronnie was leaning against the wall. Lucille smiled. “Well, the tour is over. You kids look tired. I’ll show you the backyard tomorrow.”
“I want to thank you for all your kindness this evening.” Liz gave Lucille a hug.
Lucille smiled. “It’s good you’re here. I love having children in the house. Just one thing, we need to talk after the children go to sleep.”
“I know. After I get them in bed, I’ll come find you.”
Exhausted and in pain, Liz helped her children into their pajamas and gathered them on Ronnie’s bed to have the talk she’d promised. She kissed them both and smoothed their hair. “Well, we’ve had quite a day. Do you have any questions or anything you would like to share with me?”
Ronnie frowned. “Yeah, Mom. Was Dad trying to kill us?”
“No, Ronnie. He was mad at me.”
“Is that why he hit you?”
Liz took a deep breath. “Yes, Ronnie.”
Regina tugged on Liz’s arm. “Daddy doesn’t love us.” Her lip was quivering, and tears rolled down her cheek.
Liz wiped the moisture from Regina’s cheek with a tissue. God, give me the right words. “I know that Daddy loves you both, and I’m sure he’s sorry for what happened today. He has a lot of problems that have nothing to do with you and Ronnie. You’ll have to give him time to work on those problems.”
“How long will that take?” Ronnie asked.
“Well, sweetheart, it could take quite a while, but I’m sure you’ll be able to see him again.”
Ronnie changed the subject. “Do we live here now?”
“We’ll stay here until I save up enough money for a place of our own.”
The children were getting sleepy, so Liz pulled them close and kissed their foreheads, enjoying the clean smell of the soap and shampoo that Kay had used. She carried Regina to her bed and tucked her in; then she murmured, “Do either of you have any more questions?” Regina said no by turning her head from side to side on her pillow.
Ronnie crawled under his covers and asked one last question. “What if Dad hurts you really bad, and you can’t take care of us?”
That question hit Liz like a punch to the stomach, but she held back her tears. “I’m not going to let that happen, Ronnie, and if you need me, I’ll be right across the hall.” She left the door ajar, stepped into the hall, and muffled her sobs with the tissue that held Regina’s tears.
* * *
Chapter three
Lucille motioned to Liz. “Come on in. Did you have any trouble getting them to sleep?”
The study Liz entered was elegant. On one wall, floor-to-ceiling shelves were filled with books and hand-painted wooden carvings from around the world. Tropical seascapes graced another wall. Lucille, who was sitting at a large oak desk, turned in her swivel chair to face Liz as she came into the room. Liz sat down in an overstuffed chair and cried again as she told Lucille about her talk with Ronnie and Regina. “They’re scared out of their minds, and I’m in such pain I wasn’t much comfort to them. I’d like to just go to bed.” Liz stood. “You got an ice pack I can use?”
Lucille frowned. “I know you’ve been through a lot already, but you need to go to the doctor right now.” Lucille waved at Liz’s face. “If you don’t get that lip treated, you’ll have an ugly scar, and your jaw is still swollen. You need an x-ray to make sure it’s not broken. Please go. I’ll stay with the kids.”
“I’d have to go to the emergency room. That could take forever, and I can’t pay for it.” Liz slumped back into her chair, drained of energy.
Lucille took some money from her desk drawer and handed Liz $300. “Here, this should cover everything. I insist you go. That lip won’t heal without stitches.” Lucille stared over the top of her glasses. “You need to go, now, Liz.”
“OK, I’m going.” Liz took the money. “But I’m not sure when I’ll get back. It may be late. Tomorrow we have to put a plan together.”
“A plan for what?” Lucille frowned.
“A plan for how I’m going to pay you back. I can’t stay here if we don’t have a plan.”
“All right, Liz, we can do that tomorrow morning. Now, will you please get going?”
Liz tucked the $300 in her purse and left the house. When she arrived at the emergency room, the receptionist registered her, made a note of her symptoms, and told her to wait to be called. Liz looked around the room. It was a slow night, and only a few people were waiting. The half hour she waited before she heard her name called seemed like an eternity. A nurse came out of the big double doors pushing a wheelchair. “Liz Harmon?”
“Yes, over here.” Liz stood and stared at the wheelchair. “I’m pretty sure I don’t need that. I can walk.”
“Please sit down, Mrs. Harmon. It’s just a precaution in case you have a head injury along with the swollen jaw and lip.” Liz was in too much pain to argue, so she sat down, and the nurse pushed her into a large room full of beds and parked her in a curtained-off stall. “You can put your purse on the chair and sit on the bed.” Liz did as she was told. The nurse took her temperature and blood pressure and said, “Tell me what happened to you.”
“OK. I had an argument with my husband, and he hit me in the mouth. You can see the results.” Liz ran her fingers over her lip and jaw.
The nurse took notes and asked Liz, “Are you able to open your mouth?”
“Yes, but it hurts. It’s really throbbing.” Liz winced in pain and slowly opened her mouth as wide as she could. While Liz held her mouth open, the nurse noticed the missing tooth.
The nurse frowned. “It would have to be your front tooth. You’ll need to go to a dentist right away for that.” She pulled the lip down with her gloved hand and applied some antiseptic cleanser.
Liz jumped. “Ow, that stings.”
“I’m sorry; I should have warned you, and you’re going to need stitches in that lip, too. I’ll brief the doctor, and she’ll be in to see you in a few minutes.” The nurse picked up Liz’s chart and left.
While waiting for the doctor, Liz fidgeted, and pain dulled her rational thought. She stood and grabbed her purse, ready to run from the needle and more pain.
A woman in a white coat emerged through the curtain. “Whoa. You going somewhere?” Liz froze as if caught robbing a bank. The woman held out her hand. “Hi. I’m Dr. Conway. Are you Liz Harmon?” The doctor had a kind smile.
Liz shook her hand. “Yes, and I’m in a lot of pain.”
“OK, come sit down and let me take a look at you.” The doctor was an older woman, in her early fifties, with short gray hair and twinkling blue eyes. Liz warmed to her and sat on the bed. The doctor examined her lip and the inside of her mouth and felt around the side of Liz’s face with her gloved hand. “I know you’ve already been asked, but can you tell me what happened?” Liz told Dr. Conway the whole story. “So this was a single blow? You didn’t fall on your face?”
“Yes, it was a single blow, and I fell backward when he hit me.”
“OK, I’m going to send you down for an x-ray of your jaw. I don’t think it’s broken, but I want to make sure. When you come back here with the x-ray, I’ll know more about your jaw, and I’ll stitch up your lip. Do you have a regular dentist?”
Liz shook her head. “No, I haven’t had a dentist appointment for at least ten years.”
Dr. Conway handed her a business card with a dentist’s name and phone number. “Tuck this away in your purse. I’ll call ahead and let him know you’re coming. I want you to go first thing tomorrow. Can you be there by nine in the morning?”
“Maybe. I have to make sure my friend can watch my kids.”
The doctor nodded. “OK; I’ll let him know your situation. Just call him if you need to reschedule.” The doctor patted Liz’s shoulder. “OK. You good so far?”
“Well, I’m a little uneasy about getting stitches. My lip hurts a lot right now. I can’t imagine letting someone stick a needle in it.”
“I know. It sounds awful.” The doctor took her hand. “But it’ll just be one quick stick and a little burn, and then the Novocaine kicks in, and you won’t feel anything else. If you don’t get the stitches, you’ll have a droopy lip the rest of your life. You don’t want that, do you?” The doctor looked into Liz’s eyes and squeezed her hand.
Liz stared back. “OK, but don’t be surprised if I pass out. I hate needles.”
“Don’t worry, Liz. I’ll take good care of you. Now, I’m going to ask the nurse to take you down for an x-ray of your jaw. I’ll see you when you get back.”
Liz held her breath as she rode back to the emergency room, clutching the x-rays. Oh God, please don’t let my jaw be broken. Dr. Conway studied the x-rays and finally turned to Liz. “Well, the good news is you don’t have a concussion and your jaw is not broken, just badly bruised. Looks like your lip took the brunt of the blow. I want you to put ice on your jaw every two hours for the next two to three days. Once the swelling goes down, you can ease off on the ice.” Dr. Conway raised her eyebrows. “Now, can we get started on that lip?”
“Yes, go ahead.” Liz grabbed the edge of the bed and closed her eyes so she couldn’t see the needle. She could hear the doctor moving around the room, rustling paper, a finger flicking against a surface of glass or plastic. Next, she felt a gentle tug on her lip and the burn as the needle pierced the inside of her lip. She thought for a minute that she was going to faint. Then the pain stopped. She opened her eyes and looked at the doctor. “Are you done?”
“Oh, no.” Dr. Conway chuckled and shook her head. “Now I have to sew your lip back together. But you won’t feel it.”
She prepared the suture material on a small tray close to the bed. Liz watched every move she made. The doctor began to work on Liz, and her words were soothing. “I’ll bet you never called the police on your husband, and I understand why. I have another contact for you. He’s an attorney and specializes in family law. I’ll give you his card before you leave. You could ask him to help you with filing a restraining order and, later, maybe help you file for divorce. His rates are reasonable, and I think you can make payments. “
It didn’t take long to put in six stitches. When Dr. Conway finished, she dabbed antiseptic on the lip. “OK, Liz, that should do it. I’m going to send you home with this bottle of aspirin, antiseptic solution, and salve to help the sutures heal. Keep them clean—no lipstick. And put the salve on them four or five times a day.”
“Do I hav
e to come back to have the stitches removed?”
“No. The stitches will dissolve on their own.”
“Do I take the aspirin for pain?” Liz asked.
“Yes, you can take aspirin as needed for pain. The lip and the jaw will hurt for a while, so ice them both. That should help with the discomfort.” The doctor handed Liz the attorney’s card and put her hands on Liz’s shoulders. With emotion in her voice, the doctor said, “You remind me a little of myself, spirited and strong. Call that attorney soon, and take care. If you don’t get better within a few days, give me a call, and don’t forget to go see the dentist.”
Liz stood, glanced at the attorney’s card, and looked the doctor in the eye. “I didn’t know caring doctors like you existed. Thank you for everything.”
Dr. Conway blushed. “You’re more than welcome.” She smiled, slipped through the curtain, and disappeared.
Liz had just placed all her medicine and the attorney’s card in her purse when the nurse came with the wheelchair. “How are you doing, Mrs. Harmon? Are you ready to go home?”
“Yes, but the doctor said I didn’t have a concussion, so do I still need the wheelchair?”
“Yes, Mrs. Harmon, I’m afraid you do. Sign these discharge papers, and I’ll wheel you up to reception so you can pay your bill.”
Lucille had been right. The $300 covered the bill. The nurse insisted on wheeling Liz out to her car and hovered over her while she got into the front seat and closed the door. Through the open window, the nurse said, “Good-bye, Mrs. Harmon. I hope you have a quick recovery.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your kind words.” Liz watched the nurse disappear into the hospital with the wheelchair. With one last burst of energy, she started the car and drove to Lucille’s house.
Overcome with fatigue, Liz let herself into Lucille’s house. She tiptoed down the hall to check on the children. Thank God they’re sleeping. She took the Bayer bottle from her purse, went to her bathroom, and swallowed two aspirins with a glass of water before she fell into bed.