Crazy For You

by Sandra Edwards

  Racing up the stairs, he bellowed out her name and rushed into her bedroom.

  She was in her study, located down the hall.

  Hearing his powerful I’m-in-charge voice made her nervous.

  She hurried down the hall to her bedroom and stopped at her bathroom doorway. “Frankie? What’s the matter?”

  Frank was rummaging through the medicine cabinet, snapping lids off her near-empty pill bottles and dumping the contents in the toilet.

  She watched anxiously as he flushed her meds down the drain. “What’d you do that for?” she asked in a troubled tone.

  “Roxie, you don’t need that stuff,” he said. “All you need in this world is me.”

  Maybe so, but reality was a different affair. Without the medication, reality was whatever Roxanne’s mind decided it was going to be at any given moment. Frank hadn’t been there when she had no concept of reality whatsoever. He hadn’t been there to witness the way she lost touch with reality, succumbing to all her delusions of grandeur and the sharply defined moods of depression. Or the way she’d become suspicious of, and indifferent to, everyone around her. He hadn’t been there when she couldn’t distinguish New York City from Florida, or separate the past from the present.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “Remember…I helped you through this before. I’ll help you through it again.”

  Softly, she let the words escape, “You don’t understand.” And neither did she. Not when her thoughts got jumbled up. Like now.

  Trounced by extreme fright, she wasn’t sure if she could remember what to do.

  Jerry. That’s it. She’d call Jerry. He would help her. He’d know what to do.

  Roxanne headed back to her study, closed the door and locked herself inside. She sat down at her desk, picked up the telephone and dialed the number to Jerry’s private line.

  Confidence washed over her, knowing Jerry would fix everything. He always had. No reason to think he wouldn’t now.

  “Yes,” Jerry’s voice poured across the wire.

  “Jerry?” she whispered. “It’s me, Roxanne.”

  “What’s up?” he asked. “Why are you whispering?”

  “Frankie.”

  He had no idea which Frankie she was talking about. But that was nothing new. She’d referred to Frank as Frankie, more often than not, for as long as Jerry had known her.

  “He flushed my meds down the toilet,” she said.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  “I’ll wait in my study,” she continued to whisper. “And I’m not coming out until you get here.”

  It was becoming painfully clear to Jerry that Frank Garrett was going to make a nuisance of himself. He’d more than likely interfere with any recovery Roxanne could sustain at this time.

  What Jerry really needed was a way to get rid of him.

  Frank hovered behind Jameson like a wildcat guarding his prey as the man answered the ringing doorbell.

  “Good afternoon, Dr. Sterling.” Jameson’s casual greeting told Frank this man had been there before.

  “Roxanne is expecting me.” Jerry ignored Frank as he passed through the foyer and headed toward the stairs.

  “Wait a minute.” Frank followed him. “She doesn’t need a doctor. She’s not sick.”

  Jerry stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned to Frank. “First of all…I’m not that kind of doctor. Secondly, Roxanne is my patient and I would thank you not to interfere.” Saying what he had to say, Jerry headed up the stairs.

  “What the hell kind of doctor are you then?” Frank chased after Jerry.

  Jerry stopped again, halfway up the stairs this time. Glancing over his shoulder, he glared at Frank in a less than friendly manner. “If it’s any of your business…I’m a psychiatrist,” he said, annoyed.

  “She doesn’t need a shrink.”

  Jerry bit back his temper. “Let me tell you something about Roxanne Simon…I’ve been treating her for more than five years. She suffers from a mental disorder called manic-depressive psychosis.” Jerry’s patience was waning. He really had to get rid of this guy. “Now, whether you choose to trust my professional judgment or not…is neither here nor there.”

  Frank laughed.

  Some fruitcake shrink was trying to tell him that Roxanne was crazy. He refused to believe that. “She’s not crazy.”

  “She has a problem,” Jerry said. “And for the life of me…I can’t figure out why, but you seem to be the root of that problem.” Jerry shook his head. “If you don’t back-off and let me do my job...you are going to kill her.” Jerry turned around and started up the stairs again. This time, he was determined not to stop.

  Frank didn’t move from his spot on the stairs. “She’s not crazy,” he insisted in a low voice. “You, on the other hand, are quite insane. But she is not crazy.”

  Jerry didn’t stop until he got to Roxanne’s study. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Frank hadn’t followed him up, then tapped lightly on the door. “Roxanne,” he called out softly. “It’s Jerry.”

  The door opened, but only far enough for her to reach out and pull him inside. She looked flushed and drained of all her self-worth. “Is he out there still?” she asked in a soft whisper.

  “Yes,” Jerry said in his normal tone. “Roxanne…” He hesitated, but not for much more than a second or two. “If he upsets you so…why don’t you just tell him to leave?”

  “I can’t do that,” she answered, definite. “Frankie needs his father.”

  “When was the last time you had your medication?”

  “Couple hours ago.”

  “Have you been taking it at regular intervals?”

  “Yes.” She nodded.

  Jerry sat down on the corner of her desk. “Roxanne, I’m going to change your medication.”

  She glanced at him anxiously.

  “Don’t worry. I’m going to give you something that’ll help you cope a little better.” And if he hoped to do that, he’d have to exchange the Elavil for a small dose of Lithane. Even though he was worried about Roxanne taking the drug, the Elavil was no match for Frank Garrett. “I’m going to give you something that you’ve never taken before…but you’ve got to promise me you’ll be careful with it.” He hesitated. Roxanne usually heeded his direction, but still, a bad feeling washed over him on this one. “Take it only as I prescribe it.”

  “What is it?”

  “Lithane. It’s a Lithium derivative.”

  That didn’t mean a whole lot to Roxanne, but she trusted his judgment. Hell, Jerry was the only man on earth that she did trust. Well, except for maybe Jason. But she didn’t trust Frank. At all. “Can you talk to him for me?”

  “Yes. I promise…Frank won’t take your pills again.”

  Roxanne sighed. She knew Jerry would keep his word.

  He gave her a sedative and sent her to her bedroom, saying she’d fall asleep soon. He promised he’d see to it that Frank left her and her meds alone.

  Knowing that she’d get some rest now, Jerry headed downstairs to look for Frank. In his opinion, the best thing that could happen to Roxanne would be for Frank Garrett to fall off the face of the earth. For some un-godly reason she thought she needed him. Jerry worried that taking away what she thought she needed could do more damage than trying to protect her from it.

  Finding Frank and little Frankie in the living room watching television, Jerry turned his attention to the boy. “Hello, Frankie. I think your Mom needs a hug…so why don’t you go on upstairs and give her one?” he said calmly.

  “Okay, Dr. Jerry.” Frankie hopped down off the couch and left the room.

  Jerry waited until Frankie had disappeared upstairs, and then said, “I’m going phone the pharmacy with new prescriptions for Roxanne. I want you to go pick them up right away.”

  Frank shook his head, readying for an objection.

  Jerry gave him a stern look. “If you choose to withhold her medication again—” He turned his tone sharp and professional. “�
��or if you try to interfere with her treatment in any way…you’ll leave me no choice but to commit her…so she can get the proper care she needs.”

  Committed, Frank thought. What a novel idea. But not this way. Not now. Not before he married her. And certainly not before she signed the papers confirming him as Frankie’s legal and biological father. There couldn’t be any maybes here. He didn’t want to have to fight any court battles. Especially with Candy. Right now Frank had to do his part to keep Roxanne sane. For the moment anyway. At least until they were married and she signed the papers. Then and only then, if what Jerry had told him was true, attaining his goal would be easier than ever.

  “I want what’s best for Roxanne,” Frank said, as if he really meant it. “But I just can’t help but wonder…”

  “What?”

  “If what you say is true…was it wise to send Frankie up there to be with her?”

  “Roxanne is no threat or danger to her son,” Jerry said. “Fact is…he seems to be her only link to reality. And the only time she’s truly okay, is when she’s with him.”

  “Well I guess I have to trust your judgment.”

  “Can I ask you a personal question?” Jerry asked, but didn’t wait for a reply. “What exactly are your intentions toward Roxanne?”

  Frank resented that. “If it’s any of your business…I intend to marry her. Which is something I should have been given the opportunity to do a long time ago.”

  Frank had a point there. One that even that fruitcake shrink would have a hard time arguing.

  Frank didn’t know if he could buy all this psychotic nonsense. Sure, she’d done some pretty stupid things in her time, but he didn’t think the reason could be labeled as crazy. Still, he couldn’t take the chance of refusing to believe it. He had to make certain she stayed sane long enough for him to accomplish his objective. After that, he didn’t give a damn what happened to her. If she really was nuts, it would make his job a whole lot easier. But until that time came, he had to play the role of the concerned husband-to-be.

  ***

  Chapter 21

  Roxanne’s home sat on the south shore of Lake Ellen. Homes with private docks lined the south, east, and west shores while the north shore housed an elite Country Club. Roxanne’s home sat near the center of the south shore. Two walls of windows lined her study located on the second floor of the western corner. On a clear day, she could see the entire lake and its surrounding areas.

  Sometimes, she’d just sit and stare out the window, taking in the goings-on around the lake. Today there was nothing going on. The rain fell steadily while she tried to work on her new book, but her attention kept slipping back to the scene outside. With her elbow propped on the desk, she rested her chin in the palm of her hand.

  She gazed toward the lake toward the golf course. Naturally it was deserted today. The golfers probably had to resort to work due to the rain.

  The lake was empty, too. Usually, there were three or four boats out there and some pulled water skiers behind them. But not today. Nothing was going on out there today. No one on the golf course, no one on the docks, and no one in their boats on the lake. The desolate scene left Roxanne with a lonely feeling.

  A sudden chill of lonesomeness rushed over her and she thought about Frank. She’d always loved him so much, but she’d also hurt him. Although she believed he’d forgiven her, she had to wonder why he’d done it so easily. Deep down she knew it was all wrong. She also knew she couldn’t do anything about it. She needed to be with him. But more importantly she needed to be fair to him for a change.

  The knock at the door brought her back to reality. Usually, she knew in an instant the identity of the person on the other side of the door, but this time she had no idea who was out there. “Yes,” she called out, a little puzzled.

  The door crept open and Frank walked in with a smile, obviously proud of himself for some reason. Yet, he still wore those damned sunglasses. Roxanne tried to smile, wishing he’d take them off.

  He strolled across the room and stopped in front of her desk. “You know,” he said, looking around, “you need a chair in here.”

  “I have a chair in here,” she said of the one she was sitting in.

  “I’d like to talk to you. But there’s nowhere for me to sit.”

  She rested her chin in the palm of her hand. “There’s a chair out in the hallway.”

  Frank’s spirit never faltered as he headed for the hall and retrieved the chair. He brought it inside and placed it directly in front of her desk. Sitting down, he stuck his hands inside his jacket pockets.

  “What’s up?” she asked, her chin still in her hand.

  “You know that I love you.”

  “So you say.”

  “Do you believe it?” He fiddled with the velvety-soft box in his pocket.

  Roxanne didn’t say anything right away. It was like she was thinking about it. “Yes,” she finally said. But the look on her face suggested she didn’t know why she believed it.

  Frank took the black jewelry box out of his pocket, opened it and set it on the desk in front of her. “Will you marry me?” he asked with overwhelming confidence.

  The emerald-cut pink diamond shined with all its brilliancy against the black velvet. The 2.19-carat intense pink gem in its platinum setting took Roxanne’s breath away. The diamond’s natural color, a vivid hot pink, could be compared to a bright pink snapdragon or the fruit of a pomegranate.

  The geological process that colors a diamond pink remains a mystery—which is why Frank chose that particular color. He was well aware that anyone who saw it would never suspect that he had ulterior motives.

  Finally, her eyes sparkled with an odd light, but it was overshadowed by the smile tipping her mouth. She nodded before she said, “Yes.”

  A few days later on November 12th, Frank’s birthday, he and Roxanne married in a simple ceremony. If he’d had his way the small guest list would’ve been a lot smaller. While he was in favor of Rich, Frankie, Candy, and of course the band and Glenna being there—he wasn’t happy about Jameson and Rose’s presence as guests. They were servants and he saw no reason for them being treated otherwise. He didn’t see the point in Roxanne’s publisher or her agent attending. And he wouldn’t have invited that fruitcake shrink to come nosing around either. But they were her friends, and Frank had to agree to their presence to get what he wanted. He didn’t have to like it though.

  Once the ceremony was sealed with a kiss, the caterers served champagne and hors d’oeuvres.

  At Candy’s request, Rich took her to Roxanne’s side. “Can I get you girls anything?” he said, as if he knew Candy wanted to talk to Roxanne alone.

  “You can get us a joint.” Roxanne’s soft laughter pealed through the room.

  “One joint coming up. I’ll send it over with Glenna.”

  “Let’s step out by the pool,” Roxanne suggested, leading Candy outside.

  “How are you?” Candy asked, feeling for the table and chair as she sat down.

  “Fine.”

  “Are you happy?”

  “Yes.” Roxanne was glad Candy couldn’t see her face, and she prayed the girl wouldn’t sense anything different in her voice.

  “I’ve waited so long for this,” Candy said, sadness invading her tone. “And now that it’s happened…I can’t see it.”

  “You will regain your sight. And when you do…you’ll be happy to know there’s a video tape.” Roxanne wanted nothing more than to shift the conversation away from herself. “I might add that Rich looks incredibly handsome in his tux.”

  Candy laughed softly, but didn’t say anything.

  Glenna slipped out onto the terrace and joined Roxanne and Candy. “A toast…?” She waved the joint in the air before firing it up.

  “What are we toasting?” Roxanne giggled. “Besides the joint and us?”

  “Us.” Glenna nodded. “That’s a good start…don’t you think?”

  “Just like old times,” Candy sai
d softly.

  From inside the house, Frank watched them pass the joint around and listened as the air filled with their laughter. Watching them reminded him of the old days. But a lot of time had passed and a great many things had happened since then. They were all wealthy, for one thing. And God knows a lot older. But watching the three of them right now, it seemed like the time and changes that had taken place had no meaning. They were acting the same as they always had. Definitely three peas in a pod.

  Can we change the rules

  Or are we just a couple of fools

  Maybe the rain can wash

  All our troubles away