Siblings

by K. J. Janssen

  Another hour passed before Jason finally stirred. Seeing Maggie was covered, he slipped on his pants and t-shirt before he nudged her.

  “Oh, it’s you, thank god.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, sure, are you?” She glanced at the clock. “I came out of it about an hour ago and you looked so peaceful I didn’t want to intrude on your trip. I guess I fell asleep.”

  “I appreciate that. I had such a mind-blowing experience. It was so much better than last time. How was it for you?”

  “It was terrifying. It was disgusting and at the same time fascinating. I’m not sure I want to do Marco again.”

  He moved over next to her and she put her head on his shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I don’t want to, but I probably should. I have to talk to someone about what I experienced. It was so bizarre you won’t believe it.”

  Maggie explained what had happened to her down to the smallest—no pun intended—detail. The psychedelic experience was burned into her memory, allowing her to recall every moment of the trip. Tears streamed from her eyes as she related how helpless she felt; how these little men totally dominated her; how one even violated her. “That’s when I came out of it and I found myself on top of you, with you inside me.”

  “You mean you think I was the little man doing you?”

  “Yes, I’m certain it was you,” she said.

  “Well, thanks a lot. No woman has ever said that to me before. I’ve always thought of myself as well-endowed in that department.”

  “Oh, you know what I mean.”

  He smiled and kissed her on the forehead. “Of course I do. I was just trying to lift your spirits.”

  “I’m feeling better now that I’ve talked about it. Tell me about yours.”

  “Actually it was almost the same as last time. It took a while for the pill to catch hold, but when it did I just went with it. I remembered that no harm came to me last time so I just relaxed and enjoyed it. The one thing I did notice was that everything was heightened. I don’t think it had anything to do with having previously used Marco. It should have been out of my system by now. I’m thinking that it was because I was more relaxed. When things popped into my head suddenly I wasn’t alarmed because I was already used to that happening.”

  “The best part was at the end. I remember finding you lying in a field. You were stark naked. It was the most breathtaking sight I saw during my trip. When I approached, you opened your arms and invited me to make love to you. It wasn’t the usual lovemaking we do. It was very slow and tender. I spent a long time just kissing and fondling your body, and you, mine. After the lovemaking we just held each other and fell asleep. That’s when I woke up and found you wrapped in a blanket. You were sound asleep.”

  Maggie looked up into Jason’s eyes. For the first time in their relationship she saw more than just a “friend with benefits.” “You know that I love you, don’t you?”

  He didn’t appear to be surprised by her revelation. “I love you too. I always have.”

  “You know something; we have eight more Marco capsules left. I wouldn’t mind if we flushed them down the toilet.”

  He looked at her with dismay. “Why on earth would you want to do that?”

  “Because I think we can have a better time just making love to each other without taking the risk of bad trips. I was scared out of my wits tonight. I don’t want to take a chance of that ever happening again. And who knows, there may be some side-effects that could really do us harm.”

  “Then I think you should flush them.”

  They kissed and she let his hand roam freely over her body. “I would like it if you would make that slow and tender love to me now.”

  They both gave themselves over to the moment.

  Jason stayed the night and they shared an experience that drugs could never replicate.

  Chapter 33

  It was Monday morning and The Symington Medical Center was in turmoil. Over the weekend, with most practices closed, there was a break-in, and from the particular offices that were singled out, the objective of the burglary was clearly drugs and medical equipment.

  The damage to the targeted offices was extensive; plate glass doors, entry doors, storage closets, and cabinets were smashed and their contents left in disarray. An electrical closet in the basement of the center had been broken into and leads to and from the electrical and alarm panels had been severed.

  A courier making a delivery of test results from a bio-lab discovered the theft at six o’clock on Monday morning. As he made the turn at the end of the hall leading to his first stop, the offices of Dr. Henry Ventner, Family Medicine Associates, he came across glass covering the entryway. It was visible for several feet out into the office lobby. The courier grabbed his cell phone and called his dispatcher. He backed down the hall the way he had entered and stood by the front door, waiting for the police to arrive. Within minutes, two squad cars pulled up behind his panel truck. Guns drawn, they followed his outstretched arm.

  All told, six of the practices were victimized by the intruders. Three of them suffered extensive damage to their labs and storage areas as the thieves ransacked everything in their desperate search for drugs and equipment; anything that could be converted into cash. Several carts used by the cleaning crew to collect trash were missing from the basement. Police theorized that the carts were used to transport whatever they stole from the offices. It took the police several hours to contact the owners and have them inventory their offices to itemize what had been stolen.

  In addition to Henry Ventner’s practice, John Hazleton’s Cardiology Associates Group, Peter Mickelson’s Pediatrics, Inc., Ron Symington’s Wallington OB/GYN, Wendell Harrington’s Neurology Specialists of Wallington, and Harrison Gordon Needham’s Physical Medicine & Rehabilitation were singled out. Since none of the remaining offices had been burgled, the police theorized that the burglary had been pre-planned to net drugs and materials that could be easily sold on the black market.

  Peter Mickelson, the Center’s General Manager, met with all the practice owners to decide what course of action would be required. In an attempt to avoid negative publicity, they decided that the Symington Medical Center should be shut down until Thursday morning to give those affected sufficient time to clean up their offices and make necessary repairs—mostly to the plate glass entry doors—and facilitate both police and insurance company investigations. Peter also offered a concession of one week’s occupancy fees to help in a small measure to offset the loss of revenues brought on by the closure.

  The list of stolen goods was quite extensive. Drugs of varying natures topped the list, followed by laboratory equipment, syringes, surgical instruments, and lastly, works of art. In all, the estimated loss was close to three hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The Center had a blanket policy, which when added to the coverage held by the individual practices, would materially cover most of the loss.

  Owners and employees were questioned about any suspicious persons who might have been seen recently around the Center, and about any disgruntled employees or patients. Known fences and pawn shops in surrounding towns were visited within hours. Some of the laboratory equipment was found in a pawn shop thirty miles out of town. The police recovered the equipment and took the proprietor into custody, but the lead ended there, as the pawn shop owner refused to give the police any information about whom he bought the equipment from.

  Once again the police theorized that it was a professional job because computers and lab equipment containing easily traced serial numbers were noticeably left behind. Amateurs would have taken everything with a potential resale value.

  ***

  Peter and Ron met in Ron’s office, and amid the din of the repair work being done to the lobby, they commiserated over an eighteen year old bottle of scotch.

  “Peter, who would have ever imagined that our biggest problem at this moment would be reopening the Center?”

  “I ce
rtainly wouldn’t have ever even considered such a possibility. Do you think this could be an inside job?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, what if one of the practices was having a problem we didn’t know about and staged this whole thing to cover it up? We both know about people doing that to collect from insurance companies. It wouldn’t take a lot to phony up a list of things supposedly stolen from their offices.” He took another sip of scotch. “I’m just sayin’ it’s possible. The thieves were very selective, like they knew what was worth the most on the black market. I mean, who would ever think of stealing surgical equipment?”

  Ron thought about Peter’s comment for a moment before he replied. “I hear what you’re saying. God, I’d hate to think that one of our partners would resort to such a thing. I mean, if you exclude yourself, me, and John, it would have to be Henry, Walter, or Marshall. I can’t think of any of them doing such a thing.”

  “Well, me neither, but why do you exclude the other six practices? It is certainly possible that the brains behind the robbery might not have wanted to have their practice messed up by a burglary.” He got quiet for a minute. “I’m sorry I mentioned that. It must be the scotch talking.”

  “No, you’re right. It could be anybody. We’re just going to have to wait and hope the police find out who’s responsible.”

  Peter emptied his glass and poured another two fingers. “Want some more?”

  “Sure, why not, Sherlock?”

  Chapter 34

  “Good Morning, Mrs. Symington. This is Theresa.”

  “Hello, dear.”

  “I’m calling to get Maggie’s number at work. I thought I would invite her to lunch so we can get to know each other better. She suggested it on Thanksgiving.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea. I’m sure she would love that.” She gave Theresa the number and added, “I wouldn’t mind doing the same, some time. Give me a call.”

  “You’re on my list. Maybe we can do it next week, if you have an open slot. How does next Wednesday sound? Richard said you usually come into town on Wednesdays to go shopping.”

  Marilyn hesitated a minute. “I have some appointments that day, dear. Thursday would be better. I’ll tell you what—I would much prefer it if you would come over here for lunch. We can eat out on the sun porch. It will be lovely.”

  “That sounds great. I’ll see you around noon next Thursday.”

  Theresa gave Marilyn her cell phone number. “Call me if you can’t make it for any reason.”

  “I’ll see you then. Enjoy your lunch with Maggie.”

  “I will. Goodbye, Mrs. Symington.”

  ***

  Theresa was seated across from Maggie at a table in Amelio’s. “I’m so glad you could make it on such short notice.”

  “I’m glad you called.” She looked around the restaurant at the décor and then at the menu. “This is such a nice place. I love the furnishings. I never knew it was here and I eat dinner quite a lot here in town.”

  “Well, the reason you don’t recognize it is that it used to be a laser parlor filled with games and pinball machines. The owner went bankrupt about four months ago and Amelio—his real name is Franco Amatori—bought the building and built an authentic Italian Bistro fashioned after the one his family runs in the old country. He comes from a long line of Italian chefs. His cuisine is to die for. I’ve had most of entrees except the two marked ‘new’ and you can’t go wrong with any of them.”

  An elderly waiter with a closely cropped grey mustache and beard stepped up to the table.

  He spoke with a slight European accent. “Welcome to Amelio’s. My name is Marcello. I will be your waiter this afternoon. May I get you ladies something to drink?”

  They ordered from the wine list and gave Marcello their meal order; Maggie ordered the chicken with pancetta risotto and Theresa ordered the lamb risotto.

  “I’ll see to your wine orders at once. The meals will take about a half hour.”

  As soon as he left the table, a server who had been hovering nearby rushed to the table to fill their water glasses. Another quickly placed a silver tray with a steaming loaf of bread and two small bowls of a spread in the center of the table.

  Maggie smiled at the rapid service. She turned to Theresa. “So, tell me a little about your childhood. I believe you said that you were an only child and that you grew up in Minnesota.”

  “That’s right. Faribault, Minnesota. It’s famous for its early winter storms and proximity to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, which is about an hour’s drive in clear weather. My mother taught sixth grade and my father was a partner at a large law firm in town. He’s retired now, but he’s still on their board.”

  “I can’t conceive of growing up as an only child. If I hadn’t had my two brothers to absorb some of my parents’ attention, I would have felt smothered by them.”

  “It wasn’t all that bad, actually. Both of my parents were busy most of the time; not just with their jobs, but with community activities. They had certain concepts that they adhered to, though—things that they had read about in books on raising children. For instance, my mother was of the school that believed that a child’s behavior was directly related to putting the child to sleep at exactly the same time every night, no exceptions. So, until I was thirteen years old, I had to go to bed at eight o’clock every night.”

  “My parents must have read the same book. My curfew was eight o’clock too. For some reason which they would never tell me, my brothers were allowed to stay up until nine. It seemed to work, though. Of course we children fought it almost every night, but in the end we always gave in. I can’t remember any more what was so important to me that couldn’t wait for the next day.”

  “With me it was to see a TV show or finish a chapter in a book. I fought it, but I always lost.”

  Maggie laughed. “You’re right. There weren’t any options offered.”

  “Tell me about what it was like growing up with Richard.”

  “I didn’t always get along with Richard. I was closer to Wil as I grew up. He sort of took me under his wing. You wouldn’t think that two years’ difference, like between Richard and me, would make all that much difference, but it did. He bullied Wilson, but when he tried to do the same to me, I stood up to him. He didn’t like that. Thank god my father made it very clear to both my brothers that you didn’t hit girls, otherwise I know I would have taken a lot of lumps. There were a few times that Richard actually turned beet red trying to control himself. He never realized that both Wilson and I actually looked up to him. I guess it’s kind of an unwritten thing that you keep that sort of thing to yourself. He was always driven. Once he got an idea in his head, there was no stopping him until it was accomplished. The whole family was happy about him becoming an OB/GYN. He took a lot of flak from my father on the path there, but he persevered. You’ve got yourself a winner there, Theresa.”

  “That’s a very nice thing to say.”

  “I mean it very sincerely.”

  Marcello approached the table. “Your food is on the way. Allow me to refill your glasses.”

  When the servers arrived, the food looked as good as the photographs on the menu.

  “Will there be anything else?”

  Theresa looked at Maggie and answered, “Everything looks fine, Marcello, thank you.”

  “This looks and smells delicious,” Maggie said as she cut off a small piece of chicken. She chewed it slowly, allowing the aroma, texture, and unique flavorings of the chicken to influence her taste buds. As she did, she closed her eyes to prevent any other sensory organs from influencing the experience. After she swallowed her first bite, she opened her eyes and looked at Theresa. “This is the most delicious chicken I have ever tasted.”

  Theresa tasted the lamb. “The chef here is a culinary genius. I haven’t tried the chicken yet, but this lamb risotto is a masterpiece of old-world cuisine. We are certainly fortunate to have such a fine restaurant here in Wallington
.”

  Later, as the plates were being cleared, Marcello approached the table. “How did you ladies find your meals?”

  “Marcello this is the best meal I’ve ever had,” Maggie answered.

  “I can say the same about mine,” Theresa added.

  “I’m so pleased. I’ll be sure to pass that on to the chef.” With that said, he added wine to their glasses and excused himself.

  Maggie took a sip from her glass “Not only is the food delicious, but the wine and the service is superb. I’m so happy you discovered this place.”

  “Thank you, Maggie. Getting back to what we were talking about before, when you were growing up was Richard ever moody? What I mean by that, did he ever go through periods where he was sort of withdrawn?”

  “Do you mean, like depressed?”

  “No, more like detached, as if he was off in another world.”

  “Well, I guess so. He was always serious growing up, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He always had a full plate. He didn’t have any hobbies or collect things like most other boys, including Wilson. I think I know what you’re talking about. Why do you ask?”

  “I can’t be that specific, but Richard is a different person lately. For the last several weeks he seems to be troubled by something. When I ask him about it he sloughs it off as something going on at the hospital that he can’t get into. Just between you and me, I’ve even entertained the thought that maybe he’s having an affair. Several nights lately he hasn’t gotten home until around ten o’clock. He says that he’s stopping off to have drinks with some of the doctors at the hospital.” Her eyes started to tear up. “I have no reason not to trust Richard other than what I just told you. Am I wrong to feel this way?”

  “I don’t quite know how to respond to that, Theresa. I’ve never known Richard to lie. In fact he goes out of his way to be truthful. I ran into Richard in the lobby of your hospital the other day while I was dropping off a specimen at one of your labs. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since Thanksgiving. He seemed all right to me. I think you should give him the benefit of the doubt for now. He may be experiencing a problem with one of his patients that he can’t discuss; something so deeply personal that it would be unethical for him to discuss it with anyone, even you. There will be situations like that which you’ll have to accept. He is a doctor, after all, and there are rules. I suspect that his occasional moodiness is nothing more than that.”