by Nicole Baart
That’s exactly what Jess was afraid of. Because without any warning at all, the enticing Cate Wilson had been hired as her husband’s nurse. She hadn’t been his choice—the board of directors took care of all the hiring and firing—but Jess wished that he would have protested a little more vehemently. Surely he could have done something.
“I have to run an errand this afternoon,” Jess told the boys over after-school snacks. Max was grazing on anything and everything he could find in the cupboard. A handful of chips followed by a Chewy Chips Ahoy! cookie and then, blessedly, a few almonds.
“There’s a pear on the counter,” Jess said helpfully. “And some apples in the fridge.”
“Where are you going?” Gabe asked. Before she could answer, he said: “I want to come.”
“Not this time, buddy.”
“I’m not babysitting,” Max said.
Clearly his newfound maturity was short-lived. Jess sighed. “Yes, Max, you are. I won’t be gone long. Where do you have to be?”
“I’m going to the basketball game with some guys.”
That made Jess pause. Max? Her Max going to a basketball game? He wasn’t unpopular, not by any stretch, but lately he had been a bit of a loner. Ice cream at the drive-in after his last football game (they had lost, though Max scored the only touchdown for Auburn) was one of the last times Jess remembered him doing anything socially. That was a week or so before Evan’s death. Max had a solid reason for being a hermit, but she was quietly thrilled to hear that maybe his self-enforced exile was ending.
“That’s great,” Jess said. “I’ll be back in plenty of time to drive you to the game.”
“Trey is picking me up.”
“Okay.” Jess wanted to ask if Trey’s parents were going along or if his older brother would be taking the boys to the game, but she bit her tongue. That conversation could wait. “I just need you to hold down the fort here for an hour or so. Don’t let Gabe watch TV the entire time I’m gone and don’t ignore him.”
“Yeah!” Gabe cut in. “Don’t ignore me!”
“What am I supposed to do with him?” Max threw up his hands.
Jess shot him a hard look. “Be nice. Play LEGO or jump on the trampoline or—”
“Let’s play hide-and-seek!” Gabe shouted.
“Sure. Hide-and-seek.”
Max turned his eyes to the ceiling and groaned.
“I’m serious. Be nice.”
Jess left the boys in the living room with a kiss blown in each of their general directions. Max was on the couch texting someone (Trey?), while Gabe riffled through the game cabinet trying to find something they were both interested in. Candy Land, Uno, and Monopoly had all been suggested and rejected by the time she shut the door. She said a little prayer that they would survive the hour without her.
It had been a very long time since Jess had darkened the doorstep of Auburn Family Medicine. There was no reason for her to stop by after she and Evan separated, and if the boys needed to be seen, Evan had usually taken them himself. Jess tapped her fingers against the steering wheel as she drove across town, giving herself a pep talk and trying to believe that she was doing the right thing.
Evan had liked Caitlyn. And at first, Jess had believed him when he said that their relationship was strictly professional. Later, he told her that they were “just friends.” That the reason they were laughing when she stopped in to bring him lunch at work was because they had come to the same conclusion on a tricky patient. They were compatible. A good team. It was when Evan started to get secretive that Jess began to wonder if maybe there was more to their relationship than her husband was willing to let on.
Jess had never confronted Cate. She’d never dared to. And she didn’t really want to now. This was about information. If anyone knew anything about Evan’s relationship with Gabe’s birth mother, it would be Cate. Evan worked too hard to have close friends, and both Meredith and Todd had taken Jess’s side in the separation. Not that Evan had ever been tight with the Bailey family. He seemed to tolerate them more than he liked them.
Auburn Family Medicine was a community health center that provided services on a sliding scale so that anyone could receive care. Many of Evan’s patients did not have insurance, and though it meant he worked for less than he would have at a for-profit clinic, neither Evan nor Jessica had cared. She had always been proud of her husband, his tender heart, his pursuit of justice. And Jess had been proud of the little clinic that felt just like family in the heart of Auburn, Iowa.
But now, standing in front of the door with the familiar silver plaque, she felt like she was entering a lions’ den.
The bell chimed when Jess finally gathered the courage to step inside. Beth was behind the desk, and though she had her headset on and was squinting at her computer screen, she looked up when Jess walked through the door. Her eyes widened in surprise.
Jess had decided not to call beforehand, not to make an appointment or announce her visit. She didn’t want to alert Cate to the fact that she was coming and give her an opportunity to work on her story. Jess wanted the unvarnished truth, and she believed that she would see it in Cate’s eyes if she could only catch her off guard.
There were only a handful of people in the waiting room. An elderly woman was waiting with a man who Jess presumed was her son, and there was a young mother with a feverish toddler. He was limp in her lap, eyes half-closed, and her worry was an almost tangible thing. Jess wanted to reassure her that her boy looked worse than he was. Those high fevers were scary, but rarely serious.
“Hi, Jessica,” Beth called softly when her phone conversation ended. She rose out of her chair to extend a hand to Jess, but was tethered by her headset cord. She ended up half-bent with her arm outstretched. Jess hurried over and took it.
“It’s good to see you,” Jess said, and she meant it. They had hugged at Evan’s funeral but hadn’t seen each other since. The office sent a huge bouquet of flowers and a gift certificate to the grocery store. Jess hadn’t sent a thank-you. But not because she didn’t like the staff at Auburn Family. She just couldn’t muster the energy it took to comb back over those gifts and condolences, those heartbreaking reminders that nothing would ever be the same.
“Good to see you too,” Beth said. “I’ve been hoping you’d stop by.”
“Oh?” Jess hadn’t expected that.
“Yes. I’ve left you a few messages on your answering machine . . . ?” Beth looked uncomfortable, and she sat back down so that her head didn’t have to be at an angle.
Jess thought of her home phone and the red, blinking light that she had been ignoring for weeks. She didn’t have it in her to press play and listen to all the things that required her attention. She figured if anyone really needed her, they’d call her back. Obviously Beth had. Multiple times.
“Right,” Jess said, faking recollection. “Sorry I haven’t returned your call.”
“No worries. I know it’s been a difficult time.” Beth glanced behind Jess, looking maybe for the boys. Her eyes flicked back to Jessica. “Would you like some help with the boxes? I’m sure there’s someone who can give you a hand.”
Boxes. Of course. Jess hadn’t thought of her husband’s office, of all the relics he had collected over the years. Framed photos of the family, knickknacks from the boys, a carved wooden elephant that he had been given on a medical mission trip to India over a decade ago. Jess closed her eyes for just a second and pictured his office—a little small, a bit disorganized—and a wave of sorrow washed over her. Never again would she sit in the straight-backed chair across from his desk and walk his Cross pen through her fingers. She had loved the cool, silver barrel and the way it felt against her skin. She had loved watching Evan push his glasses up on the top of his head and sit back with a heavy sigh.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, grateful that the words came out flat and even. “Are they in his office?”
Beth nodded. “Maybe . . . ?” But she stopped. Nodded. “Go ahead. Just head
back there. Let me know if you need anything at all.”
Jess hadn’t expected to be let in quite so easily, but she was grateful that she wouldn’t have to bully anyone to get her way. Cate didn’t have an office, but the triage room where the nurses gathered was right next to Evan’s. Jess could collect his things and hopefully snag a few minutes with Cate at the same time.
The hallway that led to Evan’s office was lined with examination rooms. They were neatly numbered one through six and every door was closed. Jess could hear muffled conversations throughout the hallway, but no one was immediately visible. The triage room was empty.
Jess paused with her hand on the door to Evan’s office. It had been several months since she had been here, and she took a shaky breath to steady herself. She realized in that moment that she hadn’t believed their separation would be permanent. She had assumed that she would walk through this door again, carrying the pretzel bun and cold brisket sandwich that he loved from The Humble Bean, and smile as she saw his tired wave.
A swell of nausea rolled over her and Jess pushed open the door, afraid that whatever was in her stomach (tea and a bran muffin) was about to come back out. She grabbed the trash can and sank into the nearest chair, her chest heaving as she squeezed her eyes shut against the onslaught of memories. Of dreams that were breathing their last.
“Excuse me.”
Jess’s head snapped up. Cate was leaning into the room, a stethoscope over her shoulders and her dark blue scrubs setting off her bright eyes.
“Oh!” Cate visibly jerked back, her lips parted in surprise. “Jessica. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was you. The door was open and I thought a patient had taken a wrong turn . . .” She swallowed hard. Stood her ground. “I’m really sorry.”
Jess wasn’t sure if she was apologizing for barging in on her private moment or if she was sorry about something else entirely. Maybe both. “It’s fine, Cate,” Jess said. She put the garbage can down and stood. She was only shaking a little.
“Well . . .” Cate hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “I should go. Take as much time as you need.”
“No.” Jess waved Cate inside and then stepped behind her and closed the door. “I’d like to talk to you.”
Cate looked around as if there might be another way out of the office. “I don’t really have time right now. I’m with patients.”
“A few minutes won’t hurt.”
“The clinic closes soon.” Cate backed away and fumbled for the door handle behind her. As if Jess were unstable, dangerous somehow.
“We’re going to talk,” Jess said, crossing her arms.
Cate glanced at the delicate watch on her wrist and stifled a sigh. “After work,” she said. “I get off in half an hour. We could meet at O’Malleys.”
Jess hadn’t pegged Cate as the type to hang out at the Irish pub, but she wasn’t the only one who could use a drink. Jess’s blood pressure was through the roof—her vision was blurred at the edges, the world glazed in starburst patterns. “Okay,” Jess said. “I’ll be there.”
Cate nodded, her lips pursed together in a pretty little bow. Jess couldn’t help but hate her.
When Cate slipped out the door and closed it quietly behind her, Jess was left to contemplate the empty room, the sad boxes that sat piled in the center of an empty desk. The walls had been stripped of Evan’s medical license and the wedding photo that he had hung there (Jess hoped that he had left it up even after he moved out, but she would never know). Everything looked vacant. Hollow somehow.
Jess walked slowly over to the desk and lifted the flap on the first box. There was a leather cup filled with pencils, a stack of notebooks, and the wooden elephant. Nothing much. Jess slid her hands around the box and lifted it off the desk, but when she moved to place it on the floor, the bottom gave out.
There was a mighty crash as the elephant hit the edge of the desk and careened to the carpet, and then a sound like rain as dozens of pencils scattered. Jess put a hand to her racing heart, grateful that the elephant had missed her foot and hoping the noise wouldn’t send people running to her aid. No one came.
Jess sunk to her knees and surveyed the damage. The elephant had a deep scratch in his side, but nothing a little wood filler couldn’t fix. Other than that, he was unharmed. The notebooks had fallen half-open, pages creasing and bent against the floor, and Jess picked them up carefully, smoothing out the paper as she went. They were empty for the most part. A few notes scribbled near the beginning. To-do lists and groceries. Jess learned her husband had an affinity for frozen lasagna.
The pencils were everywhere. Jess had to crawl on her hands and knees, gathering them from under the desk and beneath the chairs. One had made it all the way to the window. When she had a fistful, Jess hobbled back to the leather cup and dropped them all inside. But something didn’t sound right. The pencils made a tinny, metallic click that was totally incongruent with the felt-lined bottom of the cup. She pulled them back out and tipped the cup so that she could see all the way to the bottom.
There, taped to the base, was a key.
* * *
Woman in Eagle Ridge Women’s Prison Died by Suicide
July 16, 2018
An Eagle Ridge inmate died on Thursday, approximately an hour after she was discovered unresponsive in her cell. The Scott County Coroner’s office has identified the woman as twenty-five-year-old LaShonna Tate and ruled her death a suicide. Tate was serving a sixteen-month sentence for accessory to felony embezzlement.
Guards found her unresponsive in her cell around 7:00 a.m. during morning roll call. CPR was performed while they waited for an ambulance to take her to a local hospital. She was pronounced dead shortly after arrival.
The incident is being investigated according to protocol. According to Warden Stafford: “We do everything in our power to ensure the safety and well-being of those in our care. Unfortunately, incidents like these are traumatic for all involved. Our thoughts and prayers are with Ms. Tate’s family.”
Lisa V.B.
41, mixed race, HS diploma
Curly gray hair, looks older than she is. Wears clothes several sizes too big.
Mother knows.
BURG, 34m, 14m pp
CHAPTER 14
O’MALLEYS PUB WAS new, but it had been designed to seem old. Jess had never been inside before. The rectangular building looked like a converted warehouse, with tall, narrow windows that stretched nearly all the way to the sidewalk, and neat black awnings printed with the distinctive green logo of an entwining O and M. Inside, it was warm and dark. A huge fireplace flanked the back wall, and two worn leather couches studded with brass rivets were angled in front of it. Jess was drawn to the cozy arrangement, but it was too open—not nearly secluded enough for the things she wanted to say.
“How many?” A hostess materialized near Jess’s elbow, linen menus tucked under her arm.
“Two,” Jess said. “But just for drinks.”
“It’s Friday afternoon. This is the just-for-drinks crowd,” the hostess said with a grin. “Want to belly up to the bar?”
“Do you have anything a bit more private?”
“Sure,” she said, already heading in the direction of a table. “Follow me.”
Near the back of the restaurant there were booths with paneled partitions that reached toward the ceiling and thick curtains hanging from brass hooks. “These are for show,” the hostess said, tugging the red brocade fabric. “But I hope this is private enough?”
Suddenly Jess felt silly for making such a request. As if she were having an illicit tryst instead of meeting another woman for conversation. Okay, there was more to her meeting than that, but still. She had nothing to be ashamed of.
“It’s fine,” she said, scooting into the far side of the booth so that she could see the door. When the hostess left, she glanced around and realized that, although there were several people in the pub (it was early Friday evening, after all), there was no one that she immediately recog
nized. It was hardly a crime to meet with her late husband’s coworker, but Jess wasn’t in the mood to see anyone she knew. She couldn’t stomach the thought of small talk, the inevitable pitying stares.
Jess slid her phone out of her purse and texted Max. Home soon. Everything okay?
He didn’t reply immediately, but that wasn’t unusual. Jess put her phone facedown on the table in front of her and read through the menu for lack of something better to do.
“Anything look good?”
Jess looked up, surprised to see Cate unwrapping a long, plaid scarf as she stood over the table. Jess had hoped to catch her walking in.
“I finished a few minutes early,” Cate said, sensing Jess’s question. “I have—” She paused, then pursed her lips together for a moment before she continued. “I have a date tonight. I can’t stay long.”
A date? Jess wasn’t sure what to make of that. She decided to respond to Cate’s question instead of prying into her love life. “I think the potato and sausage soup looks good,” Jess said. “But I’m not eating anything.”
“Me either.” Cate lowered herself onto the edge of the bench opposite Jessica. She had left her coat on, but it was unzipped. A clear sign that she was here, but only for a minute or two. “A drink?”
They had to order something, so when the waitress came, Cate ordered a dirty martini with an extra olive. Jess asked for the same. She wasn’t really into mixed drinks, but she didn’t want to seem like a prude by ordering a mineral water, and the wine list was beyond overwhelming. Jess wondered if they looked like old friends meeting for a quick interlude between obligations, so in sync they ordered the same cocktail. The only thing missing between them was the natural chemistry of good friends, elbows on the table as they leaned in, easy laughter.
When the waitress left, Jess felt a surge of adrenaline like a struck match. It licked through her chest and raced down every vein, making her fingertips tingle. She realized she was scared to death.