“Yeah, if it weren’t for that whole sex thing it might work out OK.”
“There is that,” I said. “You know, the truth is, I’m not sure that what I’m looking for is a relationship.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” I said. “I’m certainly aware the conventional wisdom is that you’re not complete unless you have a significant other. I’m not sure I need that. I’m OK being alone. I don’t have to worry about always considering another person if I want to do something. I don’t have to accommodate someone else.”
“I know what you’re talking about. That’s always the struggle in a relationship. Making sure the real you doesn’t get lost.”
“Exactly,” I said. “How do you and Harley handle that?”
“Well, sometimes, I tell him this is the way it’s going to be. You can’t always give up or give in. Of course, sometimes, he tells me the same thing so we just agree to disagree.”
“I’ll probably keep trying to meet men,” I said. “It’s kind of entertaining. I guess I haven’t totally given up on meeting someone special, but there’s no pressure like I can’t be happy without a man.”
“Good place to be.”
“It is,” I said. “Besides, I have a new passion that takes up most of my free time.”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“It’s very innocent,” I said. “I started writing when I went to Alaska. Just a diary at first to kind of ease into it. Then I wrote short stories. Now, I think I’m ready to tackle a book. I guess I’d rather write then go out with most of the guys I’ve run into lately.”
“I had no idea you were a writer. I guess I’d better be careful about what I say around you. My life might become fodder for your book.”
“See, that’s why I don’t tell anyone,” I said. “People start worrying they might be that character in Chapter Ten. How will I get fodder if everyone clams up?”
“I get your point,” Roni said, laughing. “It’s really cool. Any ideas for a book?”
“I’m kind of working on one now,” I said. “I’ll let you know if it pans out.”
Roni paused when her cell phone chirped. “Roni Edelin. Ok, Jennifer. Slow down, hon.”
Roni looked pensive as she listened to Jennifer Henry voice her concerns about her paraplegic husband, Brad. Roni decided to let her finish venting before speaking again. Finally, Jennifer seemed to run out of steam.
“No, actually I agree with you,” Roni said. “Let me check it out, and I’ll get back to you.”
“What’s up?” I asked as Roni closed the flap on her cell phone.
“That was Jennifer Henry,” Roni said. “My paraplegic client’s wife. She thinks he’s depressed. I noticed that yesterday when I went to see him. He seems to be kind of slipping away to some secret place in his mind.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” I said. “I’m sure the adjuster is going to be thrilled when you tell her he needs a psyche consult.”
“Too bad,” Roni said. “This is one of those injuries where I think it’s a given. You know, if Brad doesn’t snap out of this I’ll also go see my friend David Weller.”
“He’s that quad I met last year, right?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’ll give Brad a couple of weeks to shape up. If things don’t get better, I’ll ask David to visit Brad. He’s certainly proof there’s life after a horrible injury.”
“There’s Ho,” I said as the slight woman jumped out of the black Mustang and entered the rehab facility. “Strange how that car is spotless except for the mud on the license plate, isn’t it?”
“We’d better split up now. She might leave early.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said as I opened the side door and headed for my car, which was parked across the street. Our strategy called for Roni to follow Ho for a few blocks when she left therapy and then fall back while I took up the pursuit.
Twenty minutes later, Ho burst out of the doors and stood by the curb. The black Mustang, tires screeching as it barely stopped at the curb, pulled away quickly after the woman literally jumped in.
Roni pulled out of her parking spot in pursuit. Careening out of the lot, the driver of the black Mustang clipped the front of an oncoming vehicle, which then swerved and smashed into the front of Harley’s van. I debated following Ho by myself, but I was concerned Roni might be injured, so I pulled over and called her on my cell instead.
“Damn,” Roni said after she answered. “I think that driver caused the accident on purpose.”
“Are you OK, Roni?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Roni said. “It’s like they knew we were here.”
“I know,” I said. “We’re going to need multiple cars and a couple more drivers if we’re going to catch Ho. I think there’s more going on here than just comp fraud.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure exactly,” I said. “Let’s face it, Roni. Most of the people we tail are dumb and they don’t expect to be followed. These people are pros. There’s something more than just a comp claim they’re protecting.”
Chapter Fourteen
A sudden summer thunderstorm pelted my little red car with hail as I drove to Alton to attend Billy and Marian’s wedding. It had been two months since the dinner fiasco that apparently led to Billy’s sudden proposal and fast track wedding.
As with all good deeds, I am being blamed and punished for overdoing it at the dinner party and causing the pity marriage. I distinctly remembered expressing reservations about even attending the damn thing and giving up my date to boot, but all that had been forgotten. Even the cows avoided any of the blame. My only surprise was that I hadn’t been banned from the wedding.
Roni decided to accept Billy’s decision without a whimper, convinced she should let Billy have a shot at happiness instead of making everything more difficult. Harley had put forth some folksy version of winning the battle but losing the war. I’m not sure exactly how he phrased it, but Harleyisms are hard to fight.
I had been asked not to do anything to inflame the situation, whatever that meant. I had decided not to come but changed my mind at the last minute. Despite Roni’s decision to accept Marian and the wedding, I guess I’m worried. There’s something about Marian that creeps me out.
I always liked Billy and, of course, I loved Roni, Harley and the rest of her family. Maybe in some strange way I felt like I needed to protect them from some undefined peril. Whatever it was, I was going to watch Marian carefully. I was also curious about her two grown children. Maybe they would unwittingly provide a window into Marian’s soul.
The sun came out, glistening on the river as I crossed the Alton Bridge. Everything seemed clean again, ready for Billy and Marian’s new beginning. As usual, I was running a little late. Thank God the GPS was guiding me to the Church or I’m sure I’d have been even later. A series of quick lefts and a final right turn on Church Street did the trick. I parked in the crowded lot and ran up the stairs to the massive front doors of St. Joseph’s.
I grabbed the ornate gold handle of the huge cherry door and heaved it open. Still blinded by the bright sunshine, it took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the darker confines of the Church. Billy and Marian were already standing in front, holding hands, and apparently exchanging vows. The pews on the left, the traditional bride’s side, were sparsely populated.
Billy’s side was filled almost to capacity. I slid into a pew in the back on Billy’s side and watched the show. Marian wore a white suit with another trademark white big-brimmed hat. Even in this setting, the hat seemed out of place. Billy seemed nervous while Marian looked at him with puppy dog eyes, or at least that was my impression.
My eyes were drawn to the man and woman sitting together on Marian’s side in the front pew. I remembered Roni telling me Marian’s children’s names were Murray and Vickie. Roni hadn’t offered much else about them even when I pressed her for more information. An assortment of couples occupied the second and thir
d pews and that was it. A very small family, but my perception was probably distorted by the fact I came from a gigantic family that easily would fill up the entire church.
When the minister got to the part about anyone objecting or forever holding their peace, I expected to see someone jump up, and I guess I was a little disappointed that nothing happened. Billy dutifully kissed the bride when prompted by the minister and they walked down the aisle arm in arm. Marian spotted me as they reached the back and the look of absolute victory and defiance she flashed in my direction stunned me. I waited for the front pews to empty and then ducked out the side entrance. I didn’t want to be forced to congratulate Billy or watch anymore gratuitous gloating by Marian so I headed for the reception.
The Club had valet parking and I took advantage, watching as my little red car disappeared. I entered the Blue room and grabbed a glass of champagne as the waiter walked by with a full tray. When I spotted Roni, Harley, and their brood I headed for their table. It had been awhile since I had seen her children. I suddenly realized how much I had missed them.
“Kitty,” they yelled as we all had a group hug.
“I’m really glad you came, Aunt Kitty,” Sara, the youngest and my unabashed favorite said as she continued to stand next to me with her arm around my waist.
“I didn’t want to miss Billy’s wedding,” I said, hugging her back.
“Grandpa kissed Marian,” she said. “Ooh.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” I said as Roni raised her eyebrows at me.
The bride and groom entered the room as the bandleader announced their arrival and the music started. Waiters carrying trays of food suddenly appeared as everyone took their seats. Rubbery chicken parts disguised as Modiga and vegetables steamed so long that no vitamins could have possibly survived were the centerpiece of a disappointing dinner. After the meal, Roni made a gracious toast while a slightly tipsy Murray gave a rambling, slobbering tribute to his wonderful mother and new dad.
Marian and Billy cut the cake, which was the best part of dinner. The band started playing in earnest. A whole bunch of liquored up people flocked to the dance floor to provide absolute proof white people can’t dance. Harley was happy to shed his suit coat and roll up his sleeves so he could boogy with Roni.
I was still sitting at the table with Sara when I spotted Murray making the rounds at each table. Sara made a gesture with her hand that Murray might have tipped a few too many glasses of liquor. Murray finally made it our table, totally ignoring Sara as he asked me to dance. Sara tried to hide a smile as she urged me to go for it. I agreed mostly because I thought it might be a good opportunity to pump Murray for information, but apparently he had other ideas.
“I hear you’re quite the troublemaker,” Murray said as we went to the back of the dance floor and began moving with the music. It was a slow song and Murray kept trying to pull me closer.
“I think you should back off and stay out of this,” he said as a blast of stale liquor breath assaulted me.
“And if I don’t?” I asked.
“You want Billy and Roni to have a relationship, don’t you?” he whispered in my ear.
Hunching my shoulders back, I gave him my best incredulous stare, but I knew it was the wrong move when he grabbed my ass and pulled me closer.
“Now be a good girl and back off,” he said as the music changed to a faster beat.
I shoved Murray away and backed up, taking his hand as if we were going to continue dancing. I reeled him in and then landed a knee to his groin. It was more of a reflex than anything else although my next feeling wasn’t remorse. Because I had seven brothers, my nuclear family reaction to physical attack always had been a well-placed knee.
Murray grabbed his private parts and started moving toward the exit as if he wanted to collect himself outside. Harley must have been looking in our direction because he gave me a strange look as he closed the distance.
“What was that about?” Harley asked as he watched Murray’s retreat.
“Dance with me and look innocent,” I said as I grabbed Harley’s hand. “That pig grabbed my ass and told me to back off.”
“Murray, the big momma’s boy?” Harley asked. “I didn’t think he had it in him.”
“Harley, I’m telling you, there’s something off about these people. I hope I’m wrong, but I don’t think is going to end well for Billy or Roni.”
Chapter Fifteen
Two weeks after the fateful wedding, I was hoping to end the Mary Poppins saga once and for all. Paranoid about being spotted, I traded vehicles with Roni just in case Mary recognized my eye catching little red convertible. Harley’s front-end damage had been repaired and though reluctant, he had tossed me the keys along with several warnings about consequences should another accident occur. I was sitting in front of Mary’s condo munching a salad, hoping another shopping spree was imminent.
After that, I needed to get over to St. John’s to visit a new referral and her family. Beverly Knull worked in a fireworks factory. A huge explosion right before the 4th of July had rocked the plant, leaving her with second and third degree burns over 60 percent of her body.
I had worked in the burn unit at St. John’s for two years and still felt ambivalent about the experience. Working with burn patients, while very rewarding, also had the onus of being very depressing. There were patients who had been burned so severely that surviving would not be an option. The heart wrenching process of watching them die slowly and painfully eventually caused me to seek a less stressful situation.
Skin is the largest organ in the human body. The consequences of a severe burn are devastating to every system. The incidence of complications is so staggering it becomes difficult to predict survival. Beverly Knull would fall into the 50/50 category, which meant her progress or lack of it over the next couple of weeks would determine the outcome. I kept a running list of top 10 ways I didn’t want to die, and getting severely burned still remained Number One.
Mary Poppins burst out of her front door wearing a black raincoat and carrying the familiar huge purse. She had a spring to her step and a look of determination. Bingo, I thought as I watched Mary jump in her CRV and take off.
I kept a loose tail, guessing Mary might be headed for the Galleria, a huge mall located in Richmond Heights, an upscale area with shopping and businesses. Mary exited the highway at Brentwood, confirming my hunch. I parked several rows over from Mary and watched her enter the mall. Mary headed for Nordstrom, presumably to begin her shopping spree. She looked content and completely at ease as if her actions were totally legal.
I let her move through multiple departments until I was sure Mary had lifted several items. When Mary entered the jewelry department, I called the Nordstrom’s operator, asking to be transferred to the security department. I described Mary Poppins to the suspicious man who answered the phone. Unsure they would follow up on my tip, I waited until I spotted several burly men who appeared to be watching Mary.
Retracing my steps to Harley’s van, I watched the scene unfold as Mary left the mall, followed by the two men. Just as Mary was about to step off the curb, they closed in and detained the suddenly agitated Mary Poppins, who looked appropriately outraged. I started humming as I drove away from the mall, headed to St. John’s.
The elevator at St. John’s was crowded, which was fine, as I was dreading checking on Beverly Knull and meeting her family. Ghosts of burn unit patients I had once cared for seemed to hover in the car as I rode up to the seventh floor. Just for clarification, I don’t see dead people. There just always seemed to be some kind of strange feeling or aura I experienced when I worked in acute care. The hair on the back of my neck would stand up as if some kind of presence was floating around. The thought that usually crossed my mind was that it was the Grim Reaper coming to collect someone.
I was on my way to meet the unit manager, Barbara Talbot, whom I still considered a friend. Except for the ghosts, I was the last person on the elevator by the time I got to th
e seventh floor. The doors opened and I exited, making a sharp right turn that led down the corridor to the unit located at the end of the hallway.
When I reached the unit, I hit the button on the automatic door and the loud swish announced my arrival. I spotted Barbara Talbot, who smiled and came over to greet me. An ex nun, Barbara is tall and thin, exuding a stern persona probably left over from her years in the convent. Underneath that facade is a wonderfully warm and compassionate soul. I just have to remind myself not to talk like a drunken sailor when I’m around her.
“Hey stranger,” she said as we hugged. “Why don’t we go to my office for a minute? I’ll grab Ms. Knull’s chart.”
Chart in hand, Barbara led the way to her office. As a representative of the insurance company paying the bills, I was allowed under Missouri law to review an injured worker’s chart. Barbara closed the door and I took a seat in front of her desk. Barbara handed me the chart.
I began flipping through the information, reading the history and physical and progress notes. Shaking my head, I asked. “She really has significant burns. What do you think her chances are?”
“My guess is 50-50,” she said. “Most of her burns are second-degree, but 60 percent is a lot of skin surface. She’s in a medically induced coma.”
“She’s on a vent, right?” I asked, referring to a machine that was providing respiration.
“Yeah,” she said. “At this point, she seems stable but you know how this goes.”
“I remember all too well. A burn like this is absolutely devastating. Her survival depends on whether she can avoid complications, if she can fight off the inevitable pneumonia and possible kidney failure. Tell me about her family.”
“There’s an ex husband and four kids.” Barbara said. “It’s obvious the kids have no use for the ex. I’m not sure why. The oldest is a daughter, Meadow, who is in law school and constantly reminds us she’s watching us closely. She’s a handful. The others are a lot younger. I get the feeling Meadow had to grow up in a hurry. I told her you were coming and she had a lot of questions. I’m not sure she’s going to be very receptive to your involvement.”
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