“That would be my thinking. These young kids today don’t think anything of staying out all night, coming home for breakfast, and then going to work. If I did that, it would kill me.”
“That’s because we’re old, Gerry. Today I feel very old. I don’t feel good either.”
“What does that mean, Izzie?” Gerry asked, alarm sounding in his voice.
“It means I don’t feel like myself. I think it’s all that medicine they have me on. I’m not taking it anymore.”
“Then don’t take it.” From long years of friendship, Gerry knew the minute he agreed to something, Isabel would do just the opposite.
“Why don’t you come over for breakfast, Gerry?”
“Okay. Do you mind if I go back to bed now?”
“Don’t you want to talk to me?”
“About what, Izzie?”
“About you know who. Isn’t it remarkable what she’s doing?”
“No. It’s damn stupid.”
“She doesn’t think she’s being stupid. She thinks she’s taking control of her life. She’s going to be a success no matter what we do or say. She’s got grit and spunk. I know she’s got to be scared out of her wits. She’s right, though, she isn’t that same weak person she was when she came to you that night. She’s the one who used the term weak, not me.”
“How do you like the word reckless, Isabel?” Gerry demanded.
Isabel blinked. Gerry only used her birth name when he was upset with her.
“I don’t like it at all, Gerald.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know. I need to think about it.”
“Fine. Now, can I go back to bed?”
“Go ahead, sleep your life away,” Isabel snapped as she broke the connection.
Isabel did her best to curl into the corner of the old comfortable chair she was sitting in. Each time Gerry asked her to marry him she went through the same turmoil. “Sometimes I wish I had married him. We might have had children, a big family, a loving family,” she muttered. It was possible. Gerry saw past what she considered her ugliness and her gimpy leg. Oh, no, she couldn’t let go of the past. Her father and his wicked tongue had seen to that. All the cruel things he’d ever said to her came flooding back: Horse-faced, buck-toothed, scraggly, homely as a mud fence. And those were the kindest things he’d said. The ugly things he’d said were only allowed to be thought of in total darkness so no one could see her shame, not even herself. Feeling it, living it was bad enough. Seeing it would push her over the edge. Was his hatred of her due to that awful day when she’d been born or when she screamed, “When I’m old enough I’m going to kill you for what you did!” She’d meant it, too. She almost wished she’d followed through.
For a long time she’d thought Gerry felt sorry for her, and that’s why he kept proposing. Then she’d moved on to thinking he was grateful for her helping hand in putting him through college and setting him up at his clinic. Then, when her father lay dying and refused to have her in his room, she knew the very sight of her offended him; therefore, she must offend other people as well. Even Gerry and Artie, although they said it wasn’t true. When her inheritance was cut off, she was suicidal. They were there for her every minute of the day and night. Friendship. Friendship wasn’t love in her opinion. “You are one screwed-up old broad, Isabel Tyger,” she mumbled.
Headlights flashed on the study wall. Isabel quickly switched off the light and struggled to her feet. She thumped her way down the hall to her room and got into bed.
She waited.
The house was quiet. Almost too quiet. Since the renovations, nothing creaked or groaned. Thick padding and deep carpeting muffled everything.
Fifteen minutes passed and her door, which she’d left ajar, didn’t move. By craning her neck Isabel was able to look out her bedroom window in the direction of the L-shaped wing where her study was located when she noticed the light go on. She frowned. What was the nurse doing in her study? At 4:45 in the morning, did she have reason to believe her patient would be on the computer? Was it possible she was searching for a book? After an all-night date, what kind of person would want to read a book? Was she going through her desk, and, if so, what was she looking for? Was she spying on her?
Isabel kept her eye on her bedroom window, the large digital clock with the two-inch red numerals directly in her line of vision. It was 5:25 when the study light was turned off. Isabel rolled on her side to better see the door. There was just enough light from the small night-light in the socket to the left of the door. The fine hairs on the back of her neck twitched. When the door finally moved, she closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep. She smelled Maggie’s perfume and something else. Cigarette smoke? Pipe tobacco. Artie smoked a pipe, so she was familiar with the scent of good tobacco. What was she doing in her office? Satisfied, the nurse adjusted the door to its original position.
If the nurse had tried to use Isabel’s computer for some reason, she would have been thwarted almost immediately, since she didn’t know her password. The moment the computer booted up it asked for a password. Suspicious by nature, Isabel discounted the nurse’s searching the shelf for a book for forty minutes that would lull her to sleep. No, she was interested in the computer for some reason.
Isabel swung her legs over the side of the bed and grappled for the walker. This time she slid it, shuffling her way to the study, where she knew the room by heart. The first thing she did was to draw the heavy draperies so no light would shine through. Then she closed and locked the study door. She turned on the computer, waited for the password line to appear. She logged on and sat back to wait. She typed furiously and waited again until the last entry sprang to life. Isabel looked down at the last entry, 5:02. Her suspicions were right: the nurse had tried to use the computer. The question was why.
Isabel sat quietly, her mind racing. Every possibility under the sun surfaced. Most she rejected; others she gave serious thought. Was the pretty, cheerful nurse a spy of some sort? Who would she be spying for? Gerry and Artie would laugh their heads off if she even mentioned such a thing and say she watched too much television, when in reality she rarely watched television, much preferring a good book.
Isabel closed her eyes to bring her night table into view. Bottles of prescription drugs and a pitcher of water. At least six different vials. Her eyes narrowed. As long as she was running with all these crazy thoughts, she might as well run a little further. Telephones. There were extensions in every room in the house, even the bathroom and the garages. Since she was becoming so paranoid, she would call the phone company that day and change the situation. If necessary, she would get a switchboard. Only private lines in her office and bedroom so no one could listen in. Maybe she should disconnect the intercom system, too, in case she forgot to turn it off in one of the rooms. Fear gnawed at her insides.
What did she really know about the young, cheerful nurse? Nothing. When she’d been admitted to the hospital after her fall, she’d been out of it for a few days. When she’d been more alert, the nurse was just there, sitting on a chair, knitting. Gerry said he’d hired her. Probably from some nurses’ registry. She’d never been an alarmist, but she was alarmed now, right down to the tips of her toes.
“I’m a veritable sitting duck. Or else I’m losing my mind,” she grumbled as she turned off the computer. She parted the drapes looking to the horizon. Pale pink and lavender signaled the start of a new day. The light of battle glittered in Isabel’s eyes as she yanked at the drapes. The new day spread before her.
Ninety minutes later, Isabel was seated at the kitchen table finishing her breakfast. Promptly at seven o’clock, Maggie Eldridge entered the kitchen, a huge smile on her face. “I was going to bring breakfast to your room, Miss Tyger.”
“I’m not an invalid, Miss Eldridge. I need to be up and about. I need to return to my life and do what I can.”
“What do you do, Miss Tyger? You never said,” the nurse said, pouring coffee.
/>
“I sit on various boards, take care of the toy business, my charities, e-mail my friends, that sort of thing,” Isabel said blandly. “Tell me about your evening. Did you have a good time?”
“A wonderful time, but I felt guilty leaving you alone.”
“You shouldn’t feel guilty since I wasn’t alone. My housekeeper was here.”
“How did you sleep last night?”
“Like a log.” Isabel smiled. “How about you? Are you used to the bed yet?”
“You were sound asleep when I came in. I did check on you as I promised. I, too, slept like a log. I never have trouble sleeping. The bed is fine.”
“Where did your beau take you?”
“To a lovely Chinese restaurant and then we rented two movies to watch. We had some wine, cheese, and fruit, at which point I had to leave just as it was getting interesting.” Isabel clucked her tongue to show what she thought of that statement. “I was in by twelve-thirty.”
“Those sleeping pills must have really knocked me out. I didn’t hear a thing.”
“That’s why the doctor prescribed them. You need your sleep. How are you feeling this morning?”
“Quite wonderful.”
“Are you ready for your bath and a massage?”
“Absolutely,” Isabel said.
“Tell me what you ate for breakfast. Some of your medication has to be taken after a meal. We don’t want to do anything wrong here.”
“I had fat-free yogurt, half a grapefruit, and two slices of toast with low-sugar jam and herbal tea.”
“See, now you’re getting it.” The nurse beamed.
Isabel wondered what this smiling, lying woman would think if she’d told her she ate two eggs, four slices of bacon, and then swilled down three cups of coffee. “No, no, I can do it myself. I think I’m ready for the pronged cane.”
“We can try it, but I don’t think so.”
“I’m not getting a sponge bath either. I’m taking a shower.”
“All right,” the nurse said agreeably. “I’ll stand outside the shower and wait.”
“Suit yourself,” Isabel said, swinging her walker around in a wide sweep, narrowly missing the blue-eyed nurse. Lying little shit, she thought.
Isabel made her way to her bathroom. “You can wait here in the dressing room. I prefer to do this myself if you don’t mind. If I need you, I’ll call for you.” Vanity, thy name is woman, she thought as she struggled out of her nightgown and robe. She burned with humiliation each time she had to view her naked body. Yet Gerry didn’t seem to mind her gimpy leg, her rolls of fat, a protruding stomach, and pendulous breasts. An ugly body, she’d once heard her father say when she was little. As soon as she learned the meaning of the word ugly, she’d learned to dress to cover what she considered her flaws.
Inside the shower, Isabel sat on a round plastic bench that had rubber suction cups on the legs to keep it in place. The warm steamy water felt wonderful, soothing and comforting. Lying little shit. What is she up to? How far off the mark would she be if she told Artie and Gerry she thought the young nurse was seeing Daniel Ward? Not far off, she decided.
“Are you all right, Miss Tyger?”
“I’m fine. I love the feel of warm water. Tell me more about your evening. I love to hear about young people’s romances. Are you sleeping with him?”
“Miss Tyger!”
“Well, are you?”
“When I have the time. That’s rather personal, don’t you think?”
So is trying to use my computer and lying to me. “No. What does he do? What’s his name? Maybe I know him.”
“I doubt that. He does consulting work. He’s also a computer troubleshooter.”
“I know everyone in San Jose. Who is he? Why don’t we invite him to dinner?”
“He’s much too busy. He more or less has to fit me into his schedule as it is. I don’t find that romantic at all. His name is Donald McDermott. Do you know him?”
“No!” Isabel shouted to be heard over the running water. I bet I know his real name, she thought nastily. Lying little shit.
Isabel stood up and stepped out of the shower, letting the water continue to run. She managed to dress herself, but she was exhausted when she was finished. She turned off the water just before she called out, “I’m finished.”
“Goodness, I’d hate to have your water bill.”
“I’m rich. I can afford it,” Isabel said, staring intently at the nurse to see her reaction to her blatant words.
“That’s what Donald said. I had no idea you were the person who owns the toy company. What’s it like to be rich?” the nurse asked.
“It’s a better feeling than being poor. I give away more than I keep. There are a lot of needy people out there who require my help.”
“Donald said you donate a lot of time and money to battered women’s causes. He said he read about you in some newspaper. I didn’t know any of that. I moved here to San Jose when the cold weather back East got to me. I can’t ever imagine letting some man use me as a punching bag.”
“That’s what they all say in the beginning,” Isabel snapped.
“Maybe I’ll donate my weekends at one of your shelters. I like to give back a little.”
“There’s no need. Believe it or not, we have all the volunteers we can handle. Can you withstand an investigative check of your background from the day you were born? And everyone in your immediate circle?”
“Of course,” the nurse snapped. She smiled to take the sting out of her sharp retort.
“I need you to do a few things for me. I want you to go to the bookstore and pick up some new novels I ordered. I also need some toothpaste and shampoo. While you’re in town, you can pick up my dry cleaning. I’ll be fine. I’m going to sit here and finish my last book.”
“Miss Tyger, I mean no offense, but I am not an errand girl. I’m a nurse. I don’t think your doctor would approve of me leaving you alone.”
“It goes with the job. Take it or leave it. I don’t much care what that doctor thinks. I thought we were clear on that. Don’t ever make the mistake of thinking I’m a fool.”
“Goodness gracious,” the nurse said, flustered. “Wherever did you get an idea like that? Are you sure you slept well last night?”
“From you, that’s where. I said I slept like a log. Now, are you going to run my errands or not?”
“If that’s what you want me to do, then I’ll do it,” the nurse said, her smile gone.
“Good. My list is on the kitchen table. The bookstore will charge the books, so will the dry cleaner and the drugstore. Take your time. Eat lunch out.”
“Why do I have the feeling you’re trying to get rid of me?”
“Because I am. I don’t like people who hover over me. I’ll be right here when you get back. If I get tired, I’ll take a nap. Why don’t you surprise your boyfriend with a pizza for lunch.”
“First you have to take your medication.”
“I already took it,” Isabel lied. “If you don’t believe me, check the bottles. I told you. I’m not a fool. I know the medication helps me. I just saved you the trouble of handing it to me. Jot it down on your chart. By the time you get back my next dose will be due.”
“This is so irregular. I’m not sure you need a nurse at all.” Maggie pretended to pout.
“I agree. We’ll work on that. Perhaps all I need is one of those in-home aides who come to check on you every other day. You know, they check your vital signs, help you with your bath and dressing. They stand around much like you’re doing,” Isabel snapped, hoping to rattle the nurse.
“You certainly are cranky this morning. I’ll be back in an hour or so. Is there anything I can get for you or do for you before I leave?”
“Not a thing. I’ll be fine.”
Isabel waited until she was certain Maggie had left the grounds before she made her way to the study, where she immediately dialed a private detective service she had used before. “This is Isabel Tyger, and
here is what I want you to do....”
14
Helen gathered the last of her belongings and carried them to the door, wondering if she would miss the small apartment that had been home these many months.
“Is that the last of it, honey?”
Helen smiled. The only time Sam called her by name was in bed. She kept on smiling when she closed the door behind her.
“Share.” Sam grinned. “I want to know what makes you smile. This is like an adventure. It’s not too late, you can change your mind, you know.”
“I was thinking you only use my name when we’re in bed. I know you’re afraid you might slip. As long as you really know who I am, everything is okay. This is right for me. I didn’t leave a forwarding address, Sam. I did notify Boots, though. They’ll do whatever they have to do, and I will do what I have to do. Life will go on. It’s that simple. I think the big question is, are you sure you want to move in with me?”
“Try and keep me out of your life. I’m certain. Max is certain. He’s got his blanket. We’re ready to rock and roll.”
“It’s a good thing you own furniture. We’d be sleeping on the floor otherwise. The stuff in my apartment came with it. I’m not sure how I’ll adjust to beanbag chairs and a ten-inch television set, though.” Helen smiled.
“You’re gonna love it.”
Helen stopped and turned around. “It’s true, Sam, I will love it. As long as you and Max are there it will be the next step on my long road to a new life. I need you to understand something, Sam. I agreed to you moving in with me because I love you. I didn’t agree to it because I’m afraid or I want you to protect me. If Daniel manages to find me somehow, I’ll deal with it. Me, not you. I want us to have a clear understanding on the matter.”
“I’m good with everything, honey. If things look like they might be getting sticky, we can always relocate to Vermont. I have a teaching job there anytime I want one. Tuck that in the back of your mind somewhere. Another thing, if you sense anything, if you feel threatened in any way, I want your promise you will tell me. Two heads are better than one. Mine is a little cooler in this matter than yours. Whatever you do, don’t panic. That’s what I want you to understand and agree to.”
What You Wish For Page 15