Glacier Blooming

by Edie Claire

  “Sorry,” she said firmly. “No one dies on my watch unless they’re already terminally ill.” Except for Mariel Gonzalez, an inner voice taunted. A flash of pain shot through her, but she gritted her teeth and tried to ignore it. “At least let Nurse Gruber and I treat you at home while you think about it. We can get you fully rehydrated, clean that wound up, and make sure you get the proper antibiotics and pain relief. You’ll be much more comfortable.”

  His eyes remained closed, but he shook his head slowly. “Don’t bother.”

  Mei Lin’s concern grew. He was falling asleep again, and if his last words to her were to refuse treatment, he would put her in a terrible ethical bind. “Mr. Smith!” she ordered, squeezing his shoulder. “I need you to stay awake!” But it was no use. She could tell from the limpness of his muscles that he was no longer hearing her. She slumped back in her chair with frustration. She could only hope that the next time he woke, he would be thinking more clearly.

  She rose, put more water in the kettle, and stoked the fire. She’d been doing so continuously in order to replenish his reserve of clean drinking water, but the process was painfully slow. Everybody’s going to die sometime, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it, a grating voice echoed in her brain. She wasn’t sure what had reminded her of Tina Booras, RN, unless it was the red-hot glowing wood she was poking at. The woman’s image did have a certain association with eternal hellfire in Mei Lin’s mind.

  Mrs. Gonzalez seems very agitated and she’s sweating profusely, Mei Lin had reported to the oncoming charge nurse as she finished documenting the symptoms in the patient record. But she doesn’t have a fever, and there’s no history of similar symptoms. Should I call Dr. Castille before I go?

  No, the more experienced, middle-aged nurse had replied with a sigh. Let me have a look at her first, then we’ll see. She’s a bit of a hypochondriac, you know.

  Mei Lin had not been pleased by that response. Tina had a warped definition of hypochondria, which Mei Lin had pointed out before. Hypochondriacs were people who imagined symptoms for illnesses they didn’t have. The patients at Silverson Elder Care all had genuine medical issues, which was why they were in a skilled-nursing facility in the first place. Besides which, Mrs. Gonzalez was not “imagining” perspiration so heavy her sheets needed to be changed.

  But Nurse Booras was in charge for the next eight hours; Mei Lin’s shift had ended at eleven. She’d left the facility that night both concerned and puzzled, but confident that whether the charge nurse put in an emergency call or not, Dr. Castille would sort things out in the morning. Mei Lin had documented her concerns appropriately and the geriatrician was highly regarded. By the time Dr. Castille made her rounds, however, Mrs. Gonzalez was dead.

  Mei Lin turned away from the fire. Her heart felt like lead. Why did she keep doing this to herself?

  “Stanley?” a man’s voice called from outside the cabin. “Mei Lin?”

  The dog jolted up from a sound sleep and ran to the door, and Mei Lin hastened across the cabin to open it. The dog raced out with her behind him. “Jesse!” she exclaimed, her heart lightened. “You can’t imagine how happy I am to see you right now!”

  Jesse Torpin, a strapping man in his mid-thirties, took a second to greet the ecstatic dog before looking up at Mei Lin. Jesse had light blond hair and an unshaven face that was coarse rather than handsome, but his easy manner and friendly smile showed his warm heart. “I’m glad you’re all right,” he said with relief. “Amanda was getting worried. She figured something had to be wrong with you or Stanley, one or the other. How is he?”

  Jesse stepped up to join her on the porch, and the dog nearly tripped him twice, stepping on his feet and bumping up against his wet rain pants. “Easy, Kibbe,” he soothed, pronouncing the name KIB-ee. “What’s gotten into you, boy?”

  “His master gave him a scare,” Mei Lin answered, explaining what she had found at the cabin.

  “How is he now?” Jesse asked. “Does he need a medevac?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “But he’s refusing treatment.”

  Jesse swore under his breath, then took off his wet things and headed inside. Mei Lin followed him into the cabin, where Stanley continued to sleep peacefully. Jesse felt the older man’s forehead. “Doesn’t seem too bad.”

  “He took a dose of antibiotic that Sandra sent up with me, as well as a fever reducer. But that was before he was alert enough to argue about it.”

  Jesse sighed and stepped back. “You know, most people who live alone like he does move up here to get away from everything. They don’t want interference in their business, no matter what. When Stanley first moved in he was depressed as hell — I half expected he’d take a pistol to his head before the first snow. But when Ed’s dog had that litter, he got all excited — he was the first one in line for a pup. Since then he’s been different. Cheerier. I started thinking maybe he was feeling better, that he might be thinking twice about living like he does. I guess I was wrong.”

  “You could still be right,” Mei Lin said optimistically. “I can’t believe he really wants to die. Certainly not like this.”

  Jesse shrugged. “He’s a hard one to get to know. We only see him when he’s making a supply run. He never comes down just to socialize, but if the boys are out when he comes through he always stops to toss a ball with them. He’s tough to figure. Friendly enough, but doesn’t like to talk about himself.”

  Mei Lin was puzzled. A person didn’t withdraw from nearly all human contact without a reason. “Do you know if he has any family?”

  “Not that he’s ever mentioned to me,” Jesse answered. “Amanda asked him once if he had any kids or grandkids, and he said no. I asked point blank when he first moved in if he wanted to give us a name or a phone number to keep handy in case anything happened to him, and he said no to that, too. Didn’t seem interested in the ‘what-ifs.’”

  Jesse cast a long, sober look at Stanley, then turned back to Mei Lin. “Well, how can I help here? You want to take off and let me stay with him overnight?”

  “No,” Mei Lin said without thought. “I can stay. He needs a trained nurse, whether he wants one or not.”

  Jesse seemed surprised. “You sure you’re okay being out here all by yourself? I mean, I’ve got no reason to believe Stanley’s dangerous in any way. But we don’t really know him.”

  Mei Lin smiled. “Actually, I have quite a bit of experience when it comes to dealing with the old and the cantankerous. This one is far too weak to pose a threat to me, even if I did think he was dangerous, which I don’t. I’ll be fine.” She shoved aside any nagging concerns about her poor character judgment, knowing that her assessment in this case was not all subjective. She knew that Stanley Smith spoiled his dog and played ball with children. After spending all day in his cabin she also knew that he wasn’t a drinker, that he possessed no drugs, porn, or unnecessary weapons, and that his favorite books were a world atlas, a dictionary, and a Michael Crichton novel signed by the author. No, she wasn’t afraid.

  “He’s lucky to have you around,” Jesse praised. “Not just any nurse would have hiked out all this way on a hunch. And you were right about his condition, besides.”

  Mei Lin wished she had been wrong. “If you could let Sandra know what’s going on and ask her to come up and check on him tomorrow morning, that would be great. In the meantime I’ll keep him comfortable and try to get another dose of antibiotic in him.”

  Jesse looked at his watch. “I can make another trip up. You’ll need a decent dinner and something to sleep on. Anything else I can bring you? Amanda can drive over to your place and pick up anything you need.”

  Mei Lin nodded with appreciation. She had the feeling she was in for a very long night.

  Chapter 10

  Vanessa sat curled up on the far end of Thane’s couch, sobbing. She’d gone through half a box of tissues already and showed no sign of stopping.

  Thane was at a loss. He had tried to explain, in as gentl
e a way possible, that he did not return her feelings and did not want to marry her. That feat would have been difficult enough if he didn’t also have to convince her that they’d never actually been dating in the first place.

  “It’s just that I thought marriage was the direction we were headed,” she gulped, repeating the same argument she’d brought up multiple times already. “If you didn’t feel the same, you should have told me ages ago!”

  Thane found himself wishing for a false fire alarm. A tornado warning. An air raid siren. Anything that could spare him further such agony. He truly didn’t know what to do for the woman. If anyone else — and he did mean anyone else — was this distraught in his presence, he would pull them into his arms for one of his famed Buchanan bear hugs. But not Vanessa. She had already misinterpreted catching a movie and eating out as foreplay; if he so much as touched her arm she might slap him with a paternity suit.

  “I’ve explained it every way I know how,” he replied tiredly, wishing to hell they had started this conversation in her apartment, so that he could leave. He’d made his answer clear almost an hour ago now, but she showed not the slightest inclination of moving from where she sat. “I’m sorry if there was a misunderstanding. We should have talked more all along, I guess.”

  “I talked plenty!” she spat back at him. “All you ever do is listen!”

  Now, there was a complaint Thane hadn’t heard before. Under the circumstances, any new material was welcome. But he had no intention of rebutting. He just wanted to wrap things up. “I’m sorry,” he said for the fiftieth time. “I understand if you’re upset with me. But I can’t change the situation. We can continue to be friends if that’s what you want. It’s not like I’m trying to avoid ever seeing you again.” He stopped himself for a moment, assessing the truth of that statement. Never seeing her again did sound appealing. But since he had no hope of achieving that outcome, he wasn’t lying, either. Their parents were neighbors — they couldn’t avoid each other forever if they tried. “I’m just making sure we’re on the same page,” he finished.

  She raised her head from her hands and sniffed. “So you think maybe our relationship could turn into more… over time?”

  Thane resisted a strong urge to yank his hair out by the fistful. “No,” he said firmly. “That’s never going to happen, Vanessa. I hope you can accept that.”

  “Do I have a choice?” she screeched. On the upside, she also stood.

  Thane shot up along with her. “I think it would be better if we both had a chance to cool off,” he suggested mildly, walking toward his door. “We can talk more later if you like.”

  Assessment: False. He would avoid further discussion at all costs. If you waved a plane ticket in his face, he would jump on the next jet to Siberia. He felt slightly guilty for lying to her, but after blinking back at him for a second, she did start moving toward his door, so he kept his mouth shut.

  “I don’t know what your mother is going to say,” she repeated. Whether Vanessa intended the statement to be a threat, he wasn’t sure and didn’t want to know. Since he didn’t respond to threats, he didn’t respond at all. Instead, he opened his door for her.

  Her face suffused with indignation, and she opened her mouth as if to repeat something else. But then, abruptly and mercifully, she pursed her lips and stomped out.

  Thane quickly — but softly — closed the door behind her. He heard a muffled cry of anguish, then a stifled whining noise that gradually petered out as she moved toward the elevator. And then, finally, everything went quiet.

  He stood at the door a moment, breathing deep. Then he marched into his bedroom, pulled his luggage down off the shelf, and started packing. He could finish the final revisions to his thesis anywhere as long as he had his laptop and the internet. There were a few loose ends he needed to tie up on campus, but those could be settled in a day. Then he was out of here. His lease ran out in a couple weeks anyway.

  He paused, wondering suddenly if his impending departure was what had nudged Vanessa into lunacy. She had been quirky as a girl and was erratic as a woman, but her behavior the last week defied explanation. She’d been flirty with him ever since he moved to Vancouver, but he had never responded and she had never pressed the issue. In fact, she had gone out of her way on several occasions to let him know that she was dating other men. The last couple months he’d seen her even less than usual. So where the hell had this come from?

  He shook his head. He was moving on. As soon as the tourist season ended, the lakeside bungalow in Juneau that he and his brother had inherited from their grandparents would open up, and he could move to Alaska. In the meantime, he would crash at Jason’s place in Tofino. Vanessa knew where his brother lived, of course. But she wouldn’t hassle Thane there. Would she?

  His gut twisted with misery. All he could do was hope.

  ***

  Mei Lin lay down on the thick bedroll Jesse had brought, grateful for the small touch of comfort. Amanda had sent up a huge helping of beef casserole, which had been fabulous even at room temperature, and Mei Lin felt as though she could sleep for a week. As soon as she arranged the covers over herself, Kibbe jumped on her legs with enthusiasm, turned around twice, then lay down with his head across her shin.

  She scratched his ears with a chuckle. He might be worthless as a watchdog, but the mutt did make excellent company. She was just closing her eyes and trying to relax when her patient in the bed began to mumble and thrash. It was the first Stanley had stirred in hours, and she lay in the dark and listened to see if he was truly awake or only dreaming.

  “No use,” he muttered, his voice sounding irritated. “Arm’s worthless! I’m worthless…” his voice turned despondent. “Let me die. I told you… It was my fault. I didn’t…” His mumbling ceased, and his body stilled. He was asleep again.

  Mei Lin felt a pang as the guilt in his voice struck a sympathetic chord. So, he had done something he regretted, did he? Something so horrible he felt like he didn’t deserve to live.

  Yes. She could relate to that.

  Stop it! The voices of loved ones echoed in her head. Absolutely everyone had told her that she had nothing to feel guilty about where Mariel Gonzalez was concerned. Even the facility’s lawyer had assured her that there was no legal basis under which any of the events occurring at Silverson Elder Care could be laid at her doorstep. And rationally, she did understand that nothing in her professional actions had been inappropriate. But her conscience remained unassuaged.

  She listened another few minutes to see if Stanley would wake again. But he remained still. The only sounds to be heard were the huffing breaths of the dozing dog and the quiet patter of raindrops on the roof.

  It was ironic that Stanley Smith’s talking in his sleep would keep her up, since she was famous for doing the same thing herself. The lifelong habit had merely amused her sister, but it had caused serious trouble with her ex-fiancé. Who’s Ted? Josh would demand some random morning. What did you mean by ‘leave me alone?’ And who were you talking to about a bra?

  Mei Lin’s lips twisted into a smirk as she remembered how aggravated Josh would get, particularly when she insisted she had no idea what he was referring to. She wasn’t lying to him; she rarely remembered her dreams. But the insecure Josh had always been sure she was hiding something.

  Evidently she and Stanley Smith had two things in common: sleep-talking and a nagging sense of guilt. Was it remorse that drove him to refuse treatment? Did he truly want to die?

  She mulled over the possibility, wondering what he could have done that was so terrible. She supposed the thought should worry her — make her concerned for her safety. But no angst presented itself. And within minutes, she was asleep.

  ***

  It was late. Margot Tremain glanced at her phone again, debating whether to pick it up. Thane wouldn’t appreciate her calling him; she knew that. He would consider any expression of concern on her part to be an intrusion into his personal life. And she supposed he would
be right. He was a thirty-four-year-old man now; he could do what he liked.

  She paced about her living room a moment, then grabbed the phone anyway. To hell with it. What were mothers for?

  The number rang three times. He was there; she could sense it. He just didn’t want to talk to her. She continued to let it ring.

  “Hey, Mom,” Thane greeted eventually, his half-hearted attempt at cheer not even close to convincing. “What’s up?”

  “Don’t give me that,” Margot protested with frustration. “You know very well why I’m calling. I’m sorry to bother you, but I really can’t stand it anymore. Could you please explain to me why you’ve dumped poor Vanessa after all this time? The girl is devastated. You’ve been together since high school!”

  Her son went silent. She hated it when he did that. He had always been sensitive, a deep thinker and a deliberate actor, but his silences bothered her. She wanted to know what was in his head. “Thane?” she prompted finally.

  “Do you really want me to explain?” he asked, his voice at last betraying frustration. “Because I will, but only if you’ll listen first before arguing with me.”

  “I am not arguing with you!” Margot argued. Then, embarrassed, she shut her mouth.

  Another silence ensued. “Are you listening?” he asked.

  “Yes, I am listening,” she replied. “I’m sorry.”

  “Except for those few months in high school, Vanessa and I have never been ‘together,’” he proclaimed. “We’ve only been friends. Whatever else she imagines is all in her head. I’m afraid she’s becoming delusional.”

  “How can you say that?” Margot exclaimed, speaking before she could think. Resentment flared and her face grew hot. She wanted to be on her son’s side, but the issue of men taking sex lightly hit painfully close to home. Particularly when she’d tried so hard to raise her sons otherwise. “Just because you haven’t taken your relationship as seriously as Vanessa has doesn’t mean she is unbalanced! Surely you’ve just miscommunicated.”