by Marilyn Turk
She was speechless, afraid to voice her feelings. The nurse continued, “Since you’re working tomorrow, you can assist in the treatment.”
Lexie sagged like a boxer hanging onto the ropes of the ring after multiple blows. How could she possibly be part of Mike’s torture? He would think she’d betrayed him. Did he know what they were planning to do? Had anyone told him yet?
She recovered her composure. “Who’s administering the treatment?”
“Dr. Kappas says he wants to do it. He even suggested a lobotomy if the shock therapy didn’t work.”
Lexie swallowed the lump in her throat. Could things be any worse for Mike? Surely he wasn’t a candidate for a lobotomy!
“Well, here you are—your medication schedule for today.” Nurse Addams handed her a clipboard. “Go ahead and get the doses ready.”
Taking the chart, Lexie nodded, then looked it over as she walked to the medicine cabinet, trying to keep her emotions in check when what she really wanted to do was check on Mike first. After assembling the necessary medications on a tray, she got the ward key from the head nurse and entered the ward.
The patients were unusually quiet and barely gave her a glance. Why was she unwelcome now?
She made her way around the room, handing out the medications, trying to keep her eyes away from Mike until she was finished. Even the men playing cards pretended not to notice her when she approached them.
“Good morning, gentlemen. How’s the game?”
The men kept their eyes on the cards in their hands. Lexie was at a loss. She thought the men liked her.
Then Ronald wiggled his finger to call her attention. She bent over beside him and put her head close to his. “Dorothy, I need to tell you something.” He spoke in a low voice.
“Yes, Ronald? What is it?” she whispered back.
“Be careful. You might end up like Mike. Don’t make the doctor mad.”
“Okay, I won’t. But what did Mike do to make the doctor mad?”
The men glanced at each other and shrugged.
There was only one way she was going to find out—ask Mike herself. He had been prescribed a sedative, and she planned to give him his medicine last so she could talk to him. She braced herself to see him, afraid of how she’d find him.
He lay strapped down in bed, eyes closed. She touched him on the arm. “Mike?”
His eyes flew open, and he turned toward her. “See what happens when you leave?” His voice was low and slightly slurred, no doubt the effect of the sedatives he’d been given.
Her heart gripped with regret. Was it her fault?
“What happened?” She plumped his pillow, then went to the end of his bed and cranked the head of the bed up.
“Your doctor friend. We had a little disagreement.”
Lexie crossed her arms. “Disagreement about what?”
“Politics.”
“Politics?” Was the doctor a Nazi sympathizer? But she was afraid to delve into the subject any more in case it would upset Mark again.
“Um-hum. He gives me a headache.”
“Have you been having lots of headaches?” She pushed his hair off his face.
“Not too bad.” He gave her a twisted smile. “Just when that doctor is around.”
“It seems that you two have a mutual dislike for each other.”
He smiled broader. “You could say that. Can you keep him away from me now that you’re back?”
She froze, remembering the treatment Mark was scheduled for the next day. He didn’t miss her reaction.
“What’s wrong? What do you know? Tell me, please.” Her hand was near his, and he gripped it. “Please.”
“The doctor plans to give you electric shock therapy.”
Mike’s eyes widened, and he wrestled with his straps trying to get up. “When?”
Lexie reached out to calm him, laying her hands on his chest. “Mike, calm down.”
“How can I calm down?” His voice raised, and the other patients turned around to look.
“Shhh. Don’t upset the other patients, please.”
Filled with anger and fear, his eyes sought hers, and he lowered his voice. “Look, Nurse Smithfield, you know I’m not crazy.” He cut his eyes at the other patients. “I’m not like them. I was hurt because I’m a soldier. Shouldn’t a soldier be treated better than that?”
His words pierced her and echoed her sentiments. But what could she do?
“But Mark, what if the treatment helps you like it’s supposed to? What if it makes your headaches go away? It has helped others.”
“Don’t I get a choice? I don’t want to have it. Period, but no one has asked me what I want. Can’t you do something to help me?”
“I’ll try. I promise. I’ll talk to the doctor tomorrow and explain to him that you don’t need the treatment. But you must promise me you’ll stay calm. I’ll pray for you, too, if that’s all right with you. Do we have a deal?”
He was silent a few moments, then said, “Deal.”
“Good. Now, let’s take your medicine.” She picked up the syringe.
Mark eyed it and looked up at her. “What’s it for?”
“It helps to calm you. So you won’t get headaches,” she said. Or get agitated, she didn’t say.
He shook his head. “I don’t want it.”
She withdrew the medicine and tilted her head. “No? Why not?”
“It upsets my stomach.” He tried to move his hand to his stomach but couldn’t with the restraints on. “What am I supposed to do with these on if I get sick?”
Lexie considered his question, but no answer was good.
He glanced down at the straps across his body. “And I guess you’re not allowed to take these off yet, right?”
“No, I can’t. Not now.” The head nurse told her the incident had happened less than twenty-four hours before.
“That’s what I thought. So can we skip the medicine tonight? Please?”
It wasn’t the first time a patient had refused medication, but Mike’s refusal made sense. And it was one of the few things she could do for him. Even though she promised to talk to the doctor about the treatment, she doubted he’d change his mind. Another doctor might be swayed, but Dr. Kappas had made it clear he did not like to be challenged. In this situation, her family’s former connections wouldn’t make any difference.
“All right. You don’t have to take it. But I’ll have to make a note in your chart that you refused it.”
Mark gave her a grateful smile. “You won’t get in any trouble, will you?” The look of compassion on his face warmed her heart. Despite his predicament, he still cared about her. “You could tell them I was asleep, and you couldn’t wake me up.”
Lexie smiled at him. “That’s a good story, but it isn’t true, is it? I’d rather get in trouble for telling the truth than a lie.”
“You’re a good person, Nurse Smithfield. By the way, what’s your first name anyway?”
She glanced around the room and lowered her voice. “Lexie, but you must call me Nurse Smithfield, or I’ll get in trouble.”
He grinned and whispered. “All right, Nurse Lexie Smithfield. I hope someday I’ll be lucky enough to have a girl as nice as you.”
She blushed and said, “Thank you.”
But as she left the ward, she wondered if he already had a nice girl somewhere that he hadn’t remembered yet. If he could regain more of his memory, maybe he could be released from the hospital. As long as he had no more outbursts.
At the end of her shift, she told all the patients good night and reassured Mike that she’d speak to the doctor first thing in the morning. He’d appeared happier when she left, and she prayed he’d be that way the next time she saw him.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Russell admired the verdant scenery of rolling pastureland as the army truck bumped along the Irish country road. Flocks of sheep grazed in fields on either side of them, a sharp contrast to the barren military base they’d just left.<
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Gloria sat between him and the driver, thanks to Artie’s request. It took four trucks to haul the band and their equipment to each base. Artie was in the lead truck with some of the other band members. Gloria had an obvious hangover, so the open window helped to clear her head. Russell had offered to let her ride next to the window in case the road was too rough for her, but she’d refused, preferring to “have a man on each side” of her.
Her condition didn’t seem to bother the young serviceman who drove them, as he appeared smitten with her charm. Russell wanted to talk with her, but not in front of anyone else. He wasn’t sure what he would say yet but prayed God would give him the right words, and he could say something to help her. What he really wanted to know was why. Why did she act the way she did? Why did she throw herself at men? Why did she drink so much? He wanted to help, but he didn’t want her to get the wrong idea about his interest.
Unlike her normally effusive self, Gloria hadn’t spoken much since they’d left. It was apparent that she wasn’t feeling well. If spoken to, she pasted on a fake smile and made a meager attempt to be congenial. Conversation in the loud truck required yelling, which was a tiresome way to communicate. He didn’t want to stare at her, but he detected something else in her demeanor that might not be related to the hangover. Was it depression?
He leaned close to her ear to be heard over the rumble of the truck engine. “Are you feeling better?”
She faced him with a half-smile and questioning eyes. “Yeah, sure. Thanks for making me eat that toast. I think it helped.”
“That’s good. I’m sure you needed something in your stomach.”
“Thanks for asking.” She nudged him with her elbow. “You’re a nice guy.”
Russell shrugged. “Think you’ll feel like practicing with us this afternoon?”
She turned back to face the road, appearing peeved by his lack of response to her compliment. “Of course,” she answered. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
The rest of the conversation would have to wait until they reached their destination. Hopefully, she’d stay sober the rest of the day, especially since she had become his responsibility. What would Lexie think?
When they arrived at the next base, the band dropped off their personal belongings in their barracks, then were treated to some sandwiches in the mess hall. Gloria was with them and was almost back to her old self, flirting and joking with the guys.
“Practice in one hour. We have two shows to do today, so we need to get ready,” Artie announced, clapping his hands. “Would you please join us for practice, Gloria?” Artie’s invitation was quite charming, if you asked Russell.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, darling!” Gloria purred, batting her eyelashes.
Artie glanced at Russell, and he got the hint.
“I’ll come get you in forty-five minutes,” Russell said to the singer.
Gloria eyed him up and down, a sly smile on her face. “You will, huh? You’ll do that for me? Then I should do something special for you.”
Russell coughed, while some of the other guys chuckled. Lord, help me. Please.
“Just be ready. That’ll be enough,” he said.
Russell knocked several times before Gloria opened the door. “Are you ready?”
“Am I ready for what, darling?” Gloria wore a white chiffon dress with a plunging neckline and short skirt that billowed when she moved, sure to be a hit with the audience.
Russell’s face heated, but he refused to be derailed from his mission. “Come on, Gloria. We don’t want to keep the band waiting.”
“Just a sec, darling, I need to get my handbag.”
“I’ll wait right here.” Russell waited with his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels until she came out. He eyed her for signs of drinking, but she seemed okay. She was chewing a piece of gum, which didn’t look very attractive, but at least she was sober.
Practice went well, and Artie kept it short so they wouldn’t be too tired to perform twice. Since there were U.S. soldiers at several bases in Northern Ireland, some would be trucked in from other locations instead of the band going to all the bases. Russell was amazed at the number of American servicemen in the country—over 40,000, from what he’d heard. They were obviously planning a big campaign somewhere, but where?
The band took an hour break before the afternoon show. Most of the guys just sat around or smoked cigarettes while they killed time. It was a long walk back to their barracks, so Russell stayed and hung out with the guys, much as he wanted to be doing something more productive. Gloria disappeared to find a restroom during the break, saying she had to freshen her makeup. Russell couldn’t imagine her needing any more than she already had. That was another thing he liked about Lexie. Besides lipstick, she didn’t wear any makeup and looked beautiful without it.
By showtime, the building was filled with excited soldiers, just like the previous night. Russell sat at the piano bench waiting for Artie’s signal to begin.
Artie glanced over at Russell. “Where is she?”
An alarm shot through Russell. He hadn’t seen Gloria for a while. He stood up and was about to go look for her when she appeared by the stage, a welcome sight to the band as well as the servicemen, who voiced their approval.
Artie smiled. “Are we ready? One, two, three!”
The set went on without a hitch, and Gloria seemed to be enjoying herself, looking much happier than she had that morning. When they took a break, she excused herself and grabbed her handbag to go to the restroom and freshen up again. When the break was over, she hadn’t returned yet, so Russell went to the restroom and knocked on the door.
“Gloria! You in there?”
“Just a minute!”
When she opened the door, Russell caught a whiff of whiskey. He extended his hand for her to walk in front of him, and he watched her to see if she was tipsy. She wobbled slightly on her heels, but then, who wouldn’t, wearing those spikes? Maybe he imagined the smell of liquor.
She made it through the second set but seemed less steady on her feet. Was he seeing things, or was she tipsy? But how? There wasn’t any liquor anywhere near them. If she had been drinking, where did she get it, and when?
After they finished, the soldiers gave them a rousing ovation, whistling loudly when Gloria bowed and curtsied. One thing for certain, the audience appreciated the show, and Russell was thankful they did. He waved at the men as they were dismissed, happy that he was able to give them some entertainment from home.
After they left, Artie said, “Let’s go eat and take a breather before the next group comes. We have two hours.”
He motioned to Russell. “Is she okay?” He nodded toward Gloria who was leaning over to sign autographs for a few of the men.
“I think so. Does she seem okay to you?”
“I’m not sure. Has she been drinking?”
“Not that I know of. I don’t know where she would’ve gotten the liquor.”
“Well, whatever her source is, make sure it stops before the next show.”
“Will do.” Was Russell making a promise he couldn’t keep? He was pretty sure she’d had something to drink already, and he hadn’t been able to prevent it.
Russell walked over to her and waited until she finished putting her signature on anything the soldiers handed her—hats, letters, you name it. She stood and winked at him.
“Would you like me to sign something of yours, darling?”
He took her by the arm. “Not today. Come on, let’s go get some food.”
She tried to pull away from him. “I’m not very hungry.”
“Well, humor me. I need the company.” He wasn’t about to let her out of his sight before the next show.
“Now you want company! I’ve been offering to keep you company, but you’ve been refusing me.” She pouted her red lips like a child.
“Let’s go eat.” Russell tightened his grip on her arm, trying not to hurt her as he pulled her along.
“Russel
l. I didn’t know you cared,” she teased, tossing her long hair over her shoulder.
The mess hall was the last building in a row of identical long barracks, and the rest of the guys in the band were walking to it, but Russell wasn’t sure Gloria could walk that far in the shoes she was wearing. A young serviceman in a jeep pulled up alongside them. “Need a ride?”
“Can you take us to the mess hall?” Russell pointed down the road.
“Sure thing. Hop in.”
“Aren’t you the gentleman?” Gloria flashed her biggest smile at the young man.
Russell helped her into the front seat, then he climbed into the rear.
“Sure did enjoy your show,” said the soldier. “Can’t wait to let the folks back home know I gave a ride to Gloria Bentley!”
Gloria leaned over and gave the soldier a kiss on the cheek. “Now you can tell them you’ve been kissed by Gloria Bentley!”
Russell shook his head. The woman reveled in stardom. Then why didn’t she seem happy?
When they reached the mess hall, the driver hopped out and came around to help Gloria. Russell climbed out beside her.
As he headed inside, giving Gloria a little push on her lower back, she stopped. “You go on inside. I’m going to look for a restroom,” she said.
“Again? You feeling all right?” Russell studied her facial features and her body language. Maybe she was still feeling the hangover.
“Sure, darling. Don’t worry about me. You run along, and I’ll be in as soon as I find the ladies room.”
Ladies room? A basic restroom would be more like it. He didn’t mean to be nosy, but she sure acted like she was anxious to get rid of him.
“I’ll go with you and wait outside for you.”
Gloria put her hands on her hips. “Why are you babysitting me? I’m a big girl and can take care of myself.”
Problem was, Russell didn’t believe she could.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll go with you to find out where it is.”
“So much chivalry.” Gloria extended her arm toward the building. “Please, lead the way.”
Once inside, Russell and Gloria joined the rest of the band at one of the long tables. The quartermaster was passing out meals, and Russell asked him where the restroom was. The man pointed toward the end of the building, and Gloria excused herself. Russell sat down and started talking with the other band members.