A First Class Act

by Mildred Riley

  “Older and stronger. But I was faster. Not the overweight dad you have now.” He chuckled. “You know, Drew, starting your football career in high school this year means you’re in for a lot of hard work because this game, through teamwork, presents a physical challenge to each player.”

  “I know that, Dad,” Drew said as he turned his chair to the side of the deck to avoid the sun in his eyes as it sank into the horizon.

  His father moved his own chair as well, continuing to talk about football.

  “It’s not an easy game, either,” Ross reflected. “It requires self-discipline to complete your individual assignment, to work with your teammates to succeed. Besides all that, you must have a love, a passion for this game, because it’s hard work! It’s also a real conflict…”

  “What do you mean, ‘conflict’?” Drew frowned.

  “You have two opposing teams, and in the end there will be a winner and there will be a loser, and the ‘conflict’ is over.”

  “So that’s why you love the game so much?”

  “More than that, Drew, more than that. It’s because when the game is over, win or lose, you did your best, and you measured up.”

  At that moment Vanessa Tyler joined her husband and older son on the deck. Each rose to offer her a seat.

  “Here, Mom, take my seat.”

  “Thanks, son.” She sat down, wiping her forehead with a tissue. “Sure is hot in that kitchen! Drew, why don’t you go upstairs, tell Johnny to join us out here.”

  “Okay, will do.”

  As Drew left, she turned to her husband. “Another talk about football?”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  “As long as it’s what Drew really wants for himself, not just for you, Ross.”

  “Van, I’d never do that, you know that. Drew does love the game and he’s good at it.”

  * * *

  Drew climbed the stairs to his brother’s room, found him at his computer.

  “Johnny, Mom and Dad want you to come down to the deck.”

  “Do I have to?”

  “Yes, you do. They want you, want us, to be together. You know what I mean.”

  “Okay.”

  Johnny shut down the computer, turned to face his brother.

  “Our folks sure like this ‘family ties’ thing, don’t they?”

  Drew put his arm around his brother as they walked down the stairs.

  “Look, bro, be thankful that we have folks that care about us and each other. I want to have a marriage like that someday.”

  Johnny said, “I know that they love each other. Mom once told me that she loves us to death but that Dad was first with her!”

  Inwardly, Drew thought, That’s the kind of love I want to have someday.

  He had it all planned. A football career, a good job after football, and marriage to a beautiful girl.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Dina had decided to plunge right in and try to bridge Lynette’s angry, hostile attitude.

  “As we get to spend time together, Lynette, I hope we can communicate with one another. I don’t mean as friends, necessarily, but as human beings. Right now we are sharing this one space together. Just you and me in this small room, and no one but us needs to know how we share this small bit of space. This is our experience. No one else’s.”

  “So, anyway, you can report everything.”

  “No, not everything. Only your physical condition, temperature, vital signs. You know, whether your physical condition is worse or better or stable. That sort of thing. Of course there are other staff members, doctors, social workers, therapists, but mainly whatever we talk about can stay in this room. And one other thing I should tell you…”

  “What?”

  “Today is the first day of our getting together, so we both start with a clean slate in getting to know one another.”

  “ ’Spose so.” This response from Lynette was softer.

  * * *

  “Manse! Are you ready? You know it’s an hour’s drive to the hospital, and I want to spend as much time as I can with Lynnie (a name she knew her child hated) and possibly bring her home for the weekend. What are you doing?” she continued, her strident voice grating on her husband’s ears. “I declare, you’ll be late for your own funeral!”

  “I’m ready,” her husband said as he entered their bedroom, shrugging his arms into his sport jacket. He patted his pocket for the car keys.

  “I’ll be waiting in the car,” he said to her.

  In the car, the motor running, his thoughts turned to his only child. Lynette had always tried to be the son her father did not have. She had always been closer to him than to her mother. Shooting baskets in the backyard, fishing in the summer at their lakeside cottage, and golfing, Mansfield’s favorite sport. And whenever he worked on his car, she was right there beside him.

  On the other hand, he had long ago realized how hard his wife had tried to mold their daughter into a typical high-society teenager.

  Dorcas herself had married into prestige and wealth when she married Mansfield James, ‘the best pick of the lot.’

  Being the wife of the dean of students at Avery College had its perks, and Dorcas relished the advantages she enjoyed as the dean’s wife. She was determined that her daughter succeed, do even better than she had. And why not? Lynette was tall, slender, with short dark brown hair that graced her face with soft tendrils. Her child’s eyes resembled those of Dorcas: dark brown, wide with perception.

  Dorcas sighed as she went down the front stairs of their home. Whatever had happened to their child? All their hopes and dreams seemed to have vanished, leaving them with a belligerent, hostile daughter. What would they find on this visit?

  * * *

  “My name is Claudine Raines, spelled R-A-I-N-E-S. My mother loved the movie star, Claude Rains, and with our similar sounding last name, she called me Claudine. But most of my friends call me Dina, pronounced D-E-E-N-A. That’s what you can call me, if you want.”

  “Whatever.”

  “So it’s Dina and Lynette, okay?”

  Lynette managed to reply, as usual, “Whatever.”

  Dina recognized the answer as an attempt to engage as little as possible by not saying more than she had to. But she knew she had to try to break through the girl’s defenses.

  “I understand that your parents will be visiting you today. Would you like to get cleaned up and dressed?”

  The answer came with a snarl. “They put me here, let them see me like I am.”

  Not wishing to force the issue too quickly, Dina sat quietly. As she observed her patient, she noticed Lynette seemed to be relaxing a bit. Her hands were no longer clenched into fists, but now lay relaxed and open on her lap, though she was still staring out of the window. Dina was sure that with time and patience she might be able to help this girl.

  “So,” she kept her voice calm and measured, “how about a shower and a change of clothes? Understand your parents…”

  “Screw them! Forget it!”

  “It’s not them I’m thinking of,” Dina said. “It’s you I care about, what is best for you.”

  No response came from Lynette, but Dina could sense a slight change in her patient’s demeanor. Ten minutes of silence went by between the two.

  Suddenly Lynette stood up.

  “Excuse me,” she said, walking to the bathroom.

  Dina did not move from her seat by the desk, knowing that for ‘patient safety’ there were no locks on bathroom doors. She smiled to herself when she heard the shower running. She went to the closet, selected a pair of black slacks and a coral sweater. She found clean underwear in a bureau drawer.

  By the time Lynette came back into the room, Dina had made the bed and laid out the fresh clothing.

  * * *

  Dina recognized an enemy when Dorcas James swept into her daughter’s room with all the force and bluster of a Texas tornado. She barely spoke to Dina, only a brief, “Oh, hi there,” as she rushed over to her only child, wrap
ping her in her arms as Lynette, her body rigid, looked toward the doorway where her father stood.

  Over her mother’s shoulder, she said, “Hi, Dad,” and tried to extricate herself from her mother’s grasp.

  Dina watched this interaction, realizing just how much animosity her patient felt toward her mother and how much love she felt for her father.

  It was he who introduced his wife and himself.

  “We are Lynette’s parents.”

  “How do you do, sir?”

  “Fine. Just very concerned about our daughter.”

  “I understand.” She shook hands with him. “My name is Claudine Raines, and I’m the nurse leader assigned to Lynette. We met for the first time this morning.”

  “Is that so?” His voice was calm as he hugged Lynette. “Honey, how are you?” he asked her.

  “Okay.”

  “Well, to me you look good.”

  Dina did not want to put herself in an adversarial position, so she remained standing near the desk, observing the family. She noticed the overbearing, strong-willed attitude of the girl’s mother.

  Immaculately dressed in a black wool suit, a startlingly white blouse, her platinum blonde hair done up in a French twist, wearing pearls and diamond earrings, this woman was not to be taken lightly. Dina felt great sympathy for her young patient.

  She’s up against a stone mountain, she thought.

  Dina had wrangled with demanding parents before, almost always expecting a war of wills. She realized that it was a natural reaction when family members, especially parents, had to relinquish their control of their offspring to others, professional or not. So she was not surprised at what Mrs. James said to her daughter.

  “I’m glad you’re cleaned up and dressed, Lynnie. Where’s your suitcase? We’re taking you home for the weekend.”

  Dina spoke up. “Lynette is not ready to go home, Mrs. James.”

  Dorcas James whirled around to face Dina, her face red with anger at this person who was defying her.

  “What do you mean, I can’t take my child home?”

  “She is not well enough.”

  “I’m taking her home and you’re not stopping me!”

  “Dor,” her husband interjected, “she’s only been here two days.”

  “Mr. James is right, ma’am. Lynette is not at all ready.”

  The angry woman’s response came quickly. “Why you, you black bitch! How dare you try to tell me what my child can do or not do!”

  Dina saw fear on Lynette’s face, and in a calm, measured tone explained, “My major concern is Lynette and Lynette only. She is my responsibility, and I take that responsibility very seriously. Believe me, I do.”

  “Well, miss, you will not have to take responsibility for my daughter much longer.”

  She looked at her husband.

  “Dor,” he said, “don’t you think we should ask Lynette what she wants to do?”

  Dina heard the hope in his voice as he appealed to his wife. But Dina knew that this was one very angry woman. She tried again.

  “I know, Mrs. James, that both you and your husband care deeply about your daughter’s welfare. And I do as well….”

  “Don’t you dare talk to me like that! You don’t know me, don’t know what I care about, you’re just a nurse’s aide.”

  “That’s enough, Dorcas,” her husband spoke up. “We’ll go and come back later.”

  A quiet voice broke in. “Don’t bother coming back. I don’t want to go home. You go home!”

  Dina saw tears in her patient’s eyes as she watched her parents leave.

  She held out her arms and Lynette sobbed, “Now you see? How, how much my mother hates me? Dina, what am I going to do? You took all that hate from her, you, you must care about me,” she hiccupped, tears streaming down her face.

  “Honey,” Dina rubbed Lynette’s back, feeling the slender bones of the girl’s shaking body.

  In a soft voice Dina tried to reassure Lynette. “We’ll work this out together. I know it can be done. It will take time, but we can do it.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Well, Lynette, after that session with your mother, I’m ready for some lunch.”

  “Not me.”

  “So you don’t mind?”

  “Have what you want.”

  “We can have room service if you’d rather not go to the dining room.”

  “Whatever.”

  “I’ll order for both of us,” Dina said, not reacting to the recalcitrant teen.

  Using her cell phone, she placed an order with the food service department. “One hamburger on dark bread, one root beer, a jello, and a small carton of whole milk.”

  She ended the call, replacing the cell phone in her jacket pocket.

  “Be delivered in twenty minutes.”

  There was no response from her patient, who continued to stare out the window. Dina hoped she could entice the girl into eating something.

  Suddenly Lynette turned away from the window to face Dina. Her voice was low. She seemed to be struggling to speak.

  “I’m sorry my mother went after you like that. She always acts like that when she wants what she wants!”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve had other parents react the same way when they feel they’re losing their parental authority.”

  “But you never talked back! You took all of that because of me! You stood up for me. You knew I didn’t want to go home, didn’t you?”

  “To be honest, I did. I knew you were not ready.”

  A knock on the door ended their conversation.

  Dina opened the door.

  “Good, it’s our lunch!”

  She took the covered tray from the food attendant, who told her to leave it outside the door when they finished and he would pick it up later.

  Placing the tray on the desk and taking the protective cover off, she said, “Look what we have! I know you said you weren’t hungry, but you do know that it is important to keep your fluid intake up. That’s why I ordered the jello and milk. Boy, that hamburger looks so good.”

  The response she got was not unexpected.

  Instead of “whatever,” Lynette shrugged her shoulders, returned to the window to continue her staring.

  “Well, I’m digging into this burger. Sure you don’t want to share?”

  Lynette’s response was a negative shake of her head.

  Again, Dina recognized the telltale signs of Lynette’s diagnosis. The self-induced aversion to food was a warning sign of a psychiatric illness that could range from delusions of being fat to symptoms of schizophrenia.

  Picking up the carton of milk, a straw, the fruit cup, and spoon, Dina set the food down on Lynette’s nightstand.

  The signs of withdrawal, isolation, worried her. How can I get this girl to eat? What if she won’t eat? What do I do? There seemed to be no pleasure in her patient’s life.

  She returned to the desk and her own food, opening the bottle of frosty root beer.

  * * *

  It was always Dr. Sumner Ralston’s practice to set aside an hour or two to meet with parents on visiting days. He was not surprised when his secretary alerted him that a pair of angry parents wanted to discuss their daughter’s situation.

  “It’s Mr. and Mrs. Mansfield James,” she warned him.

  “Give me a moment to look over the patient’s records and I’ll see them shortly.”

  “Will do. The mother is chomping at the bit,” she warned him.

  Ten minutes of waiting might give the couple time to cool down, Sumner Ralston decided. Maybe they’d become more amenable to the advice he was about to give them.

  Having reviewed Lynette James’ record, he realized how tenuous her illness was and he was pleased that he had assigned Dina Raines to her case.

  He opened the door to his office, walked toward the couple who wanted to meet with him.

  He offered his hand to Mansfield James, who
stood to greet him.

  “Nice to meet you, sir,” he said. “Thanks for seeing me and my wife.” Mansfield turned toward his wife, whose flushed, angry demeanor did not surprise the physician.

  “I…we are concerned about our daughter.”

  “Won’t you come into my office? We’ll be much more comfortable there, I think,” Dr. Ralston offered.

  “Thank you.” Mansfield turned to his wife, took her arm, leading her into the well-appointed room.

  It was paneled in dark wood, but the furnishings, table lamps, and shelves of books made it both a professional and empathic environment.

  Mansfield noted the framed degrees and professional documents that attested to the doctor’s education and status.

  “Please, won’t you have seats?” Looking at their tense faces, Dr. Ralston added, “May I offer you coffee, or something else to drink?”

  “No, thank you.” Dorcas’ anger was extremely apparent. “We’re here to talk about our daughter, Lynette James. That young black woman, that aide, or whatever…”

  “Her color is not her fault,” he calmly interrupted, “and she is not an aide. She is a professional nurse with both a bachelor’s degree and a masters in psychiatric nursing, and she’s working toward a Ph.D. I’d like you to know she is one of our most well-educated, well-prepared staff members here at Waverly Estates.”

  “I don’t care about that! I’m Lynette’s mother and I want to take her home. Now!”

  In an even tone of voice, the hospital director explained, “You both signed the admission forms placing your daughter in our care. Your daughter is in a very special program. The premise is that patients with your child’s diagnosis, anorexia nervosa, require one-on-one attention from a skilled professional. This person will, with consultations from other members of our staff, make the final decisions pertaining to the patient’s treatment plan. And if Miss Raines has indicated that it is not in your daughter’s best interest to leave the hospital for the weekend, I cannot interfere with her decision.”

  Dorcas fairly exploded, trying to insist on her right to have her way. “Well, aren’t you the head of this hospital?” she sputtered.

  “I am.”

  “You won’t be for long! You’ll be hearing from our lawyers! Come on, Mansfield, we have work to do to get Lynette out of this place! A black woman in charge! Never heard of such nonsense!”