“Yes, I think they’re panic attacks. I think you’re anxious and grieving. You went through hell taking care of your mother, and the whole thing has caught up with you. Use this summer to rest.”
Harley cringed and suppressed a shudder as waves of ice and fire raced through her veins. That was the kind of stuff doctors told psychotic patients. Harley hung her head in shame, sensing that Eden would be ashamed she’d raised so weak a person. Fighting rising despair, she smiled at Dr. Champagne. Before she rose to shake his hand, she wiped her clammy ones on her sides. A sickening iciness ran through her veins. “Thanks for your help. I’m sure I’ll be okay.”
Harley dreaded the annual reunion Mass at St. Cyprian’s. As a faculty member and an alumna, she was expected to participate in the annual gathering before and after the service. Donna usually attended as well, but she was busy with her exhibit at a Julia Street gallery and couldn’t be present. Judy, Harley’s cousin, also had attended St. Cyprian’s, but she was out of town, visiting her late husband’s relatives in Texas. Without them, Harley found the whole event sour. She’d never been a popular kid, and many of the girls had more money than her family. They’d been none too shy about flaunting their wealth and snubbing Harley. When she now taught their children, Harley had to remind herself that she couldn’t project the anger she harbored against the mothers onto the daughters.
Harley returned the smiles of the graduates she recognized as she inched her way through the courtyard. The morning was unbearably hot, and Harley breathed deeply to settle the blood pulsing inside her veins. She stopped by the statue of Mary and took a deep breath. Why am I here? Help me, please, sweet Virgin Mother.
“Thinking of becoming a nun, Harley?”
Harley cringed at the sound of Mary Ann Marks Saltaformaggio’s voice. Mary Ann had been without a doubt the most popular girl in school: cheerleader, basketball player, National Merit Scholar, and Student Council President. She also had worked on the school newspaper with Harley and had beaten her out as senior editor.
Harley swallowed and plastered an insincere smile on her face. “Hi, Mary Ann. How are you?”
“Well, things are great. David’s been named Chief of Medicine at the old Kenner hospital, and my dress shop is making money. Life is good.” Mary Ann ran a well-sculpted hand through her perfectly coiffed hair.
Harley imagined she hadn’t put those hands in dishwater in years. The woman still looked like a model-perfect doll, but her beauty was now artificially contrived. The bimbo clearly had visited a plastic surgeon, and it was no secret she spent every waking hour at the gym. Harley took a deep breath and fought to control the pounding inside her breast. Harley hated the farce. Most of the girls had been rivals in school, and their fake, forced smiles grated on her soul.
“Gee, that’s great about David. You must be really proud.” Harley wondered if her face would crack as she smiled or if paralysis would set in, leaving her with this fake smile. She hated being in the number of insincere people who smiled at each other in public but would be more than willing to wield a knife against their fellows in a dimly lit street. When she’d been a girl, Harley had viewed her classmates as mini-assassins ready to kill with a cruel word or a blow. Even as an adult, Harley saw them as smiling liars, ass kissers, or dreamers harboring delusions about their pasts. Mary Ann reigned as the queen of hypocrisy and cruelty. How can we all be so hypocritical?
“Yes, but who could expect anything less from David? After all, he was named most likely to succeed when we were still in grade school.” Mary Ann showed every tooth in her mouth and oozed sweetness. She waved to her husband, who was locked in conversation with Jennifer Terry, Mary Ann’s major rival. The smile briefly faded, but she quickly recovered and beamed her benevolence on Harley. Leaning confidentially toward Harley, she placed a hand on her shoulder. “There are no hard feelings between us, right? You’re going to teach Melissa next year.”
Harley gazed at her, truly clueless. She and Mary Ann had never liked each other, but they had never quarreled. “Why would I have anything against you?”
“Oh, my, because of David. You’d dated him at one time, didn’t you?” Mary Ann cast a solicitous glance in her direction.
Harley stared at her, open-mouthed. Mary Ann’s self-importance was laughable. “We had one date in ninth grade. It’s not like we were sworn lovers.”
“I see.” Mary Ann recoiled as if she’d been stung. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make amends because—”
“There’s no need to make amends, Mary Ann. Your husband and I had one casual date.” Harley turned to go. The hot summer day threatened to smother her as her heart pounded like an anvil inside her breast.
“Harley, I just thought since I had so much, and you’d lost so much in not getting David that you might be bitter. Well, I figured you had regrets, anyway.” She cast an uneasy glance in her husband’s direction. David stood dangerously close to yet another old classmate.
Harley suddenly thought of John. A lump formed in her throat. How dare this bitch denigrate her husband to her face? He never leered at other women, cocktail in hand, when they went to functions or were in the company of friends or associates. “My husband was a war hero. I have no regrets.” She turned on her heel and vanished before Mary Ann could respond. The woman wouldn’t see her cry.
The mass was in the gym, and Harley pushed through the assembled alumni and their bored spouses. When Donna attended, the whole ludicrous display was at least bearable. They always stood together and remarked on who was now fat and who was prematurely gray. The encounter with Mary Ann made her ache for John. Seeing everyone paired up like Noah’s Ark didn’t ease her hurt. She hurriedly turned toward the gym. The heat and humidity struck her like a hard slap in the face.
Fighting tears, Harley reached for the heavy doors leading to the gym and barreled into a figure entering the courtyard. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She colored darkly and tried to brush past the man, avoiding further embarrassment.
“Harley Michel? Is that you?” Bishop Bonura extended a hand and clasped hers firmly before she could turn from him. “I haven’t seen you in years, dear.”
“No, not since you married me to John.” Harley couldn’t believe her day was getting worse. Bishop Bonura was the man who supervised the Office of Catholic Schools. Even the superintendent answered to him. Harley saw that the bishop was studying her and undoubtedly noticed the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. To the man’s credit, he said nothing to embarrass her.
“I also baptized you, dear girl. Not that you’d remember that whole event.” The bishop’s lips twisted into a smile. When Harley was a child, the bishop had been her parish priest. The whole Archdiocese called their leader the “Ice Man.” He was tall and thin with salt-and-pepper hair. Brilliant but tactless, the man never smiled. The slight curve of the lips with which he graced Harley would have made many of his subordinates dizzy with pleasure, but beads of perspiration trickled down Harley’s back while her heart pounded in her throat.
“I have to help with the setting up inside the gym. Excuse me, Bishop.” Harley summoned as much dignity as she could and brushed past him. She winced at the thought that the bishop had seen her crying. The old man had scared her even when he was her parish priest, but his fierceness had always made Harley defiant. She never wanted to show weakness in front of him. It was damned hot outside, and the gym had never been cool.
After helping the principal, Sr. Elizabeth O’Leary, with the altar, Harley took her seat in on a folding chair in the gym. Like the bishop, the principal had made no mention of Harley’s tears. Sr. Elizabeth had assigned her to give communion during the Mass, and Harley already suffered from the anxiety she always did when the priest consecrated the Host. Harley bowed her head, praying she wasn’t losing her mind.
The former students and their guests soon filed into the gym. Mary Ann and
David sat immediately beside Harley and Sr. Elizabeth. Harley realized with a grimace she was grinding her teeth and that the hammering of her heart hadn’t ceased. The crowded gym also wasn’t helping Harley’s physical discomfort. Perspiration dotted her linen dress, and she had nothing with which to fan herself.
During the sign of peace, Harley shook hands with her principal and then turned to Mary Ann and David. David’s gaze followed her with obvious appreciation. Mary Ann cast a malevolent glance in his direction before extending her hand to Harley, showing all of her teeth in a fake smile. Harley then turned her attention to Bishop Bonura. The words rang in her ears.
When he finished, Harley moved to the center to head to the altar to help with communion. Her cold hands shook at her sides as her legs mechanically propelled her toward the altar. Her heart pounded so hard within her breast that her whole frame shook. Not even the deep breaths she took as she made her way to the altar could still her racing heart. Harley took even deeper breaths as she made her way to the bishop and the wafers he would place in the chalice. Bishop Bonura swayed before her vision. Harley’s legs buckled under her. The world swirled like a perverse carnival attraction and then went black.
Harley awoke in the school infirmary. Her gaze took in the same putrid-green walls she’d remembered as a kid when she’d been ill and needed the school nurse. Slowly, Sr. Elizabeth and Bishop Bonura came into focus, and a wave of panic filled Harley’s lungs when her gaze fell on her cousin Judy. Judy was talking softly to the bishop and Sr. Elizabeth. She wondered how she would explain this to her motherly cousin. Harley silently prayed that she could die right then so as to avoid dealing with the questions that would inevitably follow.
David Saltaformaggio held her wrist and grinned when he met her roving stare. “She’s back with us, Sr. Elizabeth.” He turned his attention to Harley. “Do you know where you are?”
Harley’s throat was dry, but she managed to answer. “I’m okay. I just need some water.”
“Here you go, sweetie.” Judy quickly ran to the water cooler, filling a paper receptacle with water. “Can you sit up?”
Harley nodded as David and Judy helped her from the reclining position. She took the receptacle with shaking hands and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m okay, Judy. How did you get here? I thought you were out of town.”
“I was. Lucky for you my cell number was on your phone. I’d just gotten home when Sr. Elizabeth called the house.” Judy cast an anxious glance at David. “Is she okay?”
“Seems to be. Her heart beat was a little irregular, but it’s since settled down.” He gave Harley a smile that was pure sensuality. Even in high school, David could make a girl think he knew what she looked like minus her clothes. Harley wondered how some woman hadn’t yet charged him with sexual harassment. No wonder his wife was so damned insecure that she had to brag incessantly about a life that in reality was less than perfect.
“Look, I’m fine.” Harley swallowed the last of the water. “It was just too bloody hot in that gym.”
“I’ll take you home with me.” Judy placed a hand on Harley’s forehead.
Harley rolled her eyes. “It was just too hot. I really want to go home.”
To Harley’s surprise, Judy didn’t press it. She waited as Harley pushed her feet into her sandals and then slipped an arm around her. Judy was Eden’s niece and Harley’s senior by three years. She sometimes treated Harley like a child, but Harley respected Judy’s level head and practicality. “Sure, let’s get you home. You can snuggle with Nico.”
“Yes, you take it easy this summer, Harley.” Sr. Elizabeth patted her arm. “I need one of my best teachers when school starts.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” Harley smiled at the steely-eyed gray-haired nun. She wished the nun wouldn’t be such a hypocrite. The woman had always hated Harley and her friends.
Harley brushed past the bishop. “Take care, Harley. I know you’ve been under some stress lately. I was very sorry to hear about your mother.”
“It was just too hot.” Harley stared into the old man’s face. He cast a penetrating glance her way.
Harley turned from him and bolted through the door, Judy at her heels. As they reached the parking lot, Harley saw Mary Ann speaking with Jenny Marcot, another former classmate. Mary Ann was oblivious to Harley’s presence or pretended to be, and her voice echoed through the humid air. “Well, you know, old maids always are nervous.”
Harley resisted the urge to traverse the lot and punch Mary Ann in her smug face. She sighed wearily. “I’m okay, Judy. I can drive home. Please go on without me.” The last thing Harley wanted was pity or mothering.
Chapter 5
Later that day, Harley was glad to have another round of edits to occupy her time and spent the rest of the afternoon editing. She knew that if Donna heard her, her old friend would say she was perverse, but Harley didn’t care. She was either going mad or was uncontrollably menopausal. If she were losing her mind, she could look forward to spending time in a mental asylum, wearing white and staring at four walls. If she were madly menopausal, her life would be only slightly better than if she were mad. She didn’t want to think of growing old, developing hair in unwanted places, or of gaining unwanted pounds. Too often older women talked of nothing else but their female problems at doctor’s offices and styling salons. They worried about the weather, harbored paranoid delusions that terrorists were specifically targeting them, fantasized about unobtainable movie stars, and interfered in their children’s lives.
Well, Harley thought, she had no children, but she prayed she wasn’t going to develop the schizophrenic tendencies she associated with menopause. Such women were, at the least, considered mildly eccentric by their associates, and at the extreme, were considered mad women in the attic.
“Better buy some black cohosh and St. John’s wart the next time I’m in the drugstore,” she mumbled as she finished another sex scene. Her protagonist had just met a modern day pirate and was caught in his passionate embrace. Harley munched on celery sticks while she typed. After less than a half hour, Harley pressed the ‘submit’ button on her program. “Another sex scene off to Jill.” She smiled at the irony that a best-selling author who wrote steamy sex scenes was getting so little sex and possibly suffering from menopausal hysteria. Harley took a sip of wine and then moved to shut down her computer.
“Oh, why the hell not see if somebody sent me a message?” She went to her e-mail and saw that she had received ten new e-mails. Two were clear nutcases. Oh, please, Sexy Mama, save me from this broken heart.
Harley shook her head and laughed. Delete. The next blared from the screen. Oh, you’re gorgeous. I bet you’ve had some good rumbles in the hay.
Delete.
The third actually was literate, and didn’t use cringe-inducing text language. You sound intelligent, witty, and well-rounded. You’re also very beautiful. I’d like to meet you, and I’ll meet wherever you’re comfortable. I’m an educated professional, and I know this form of communication can be intimidating. It is for me, too.
Harley smiled as she read. Here was a man who didn’t sound like a moron. She clicked on his profile and waited for reality to set in. Many of these men had looked promising at first until she’d scrutinized them more closely. This particular one was nice-looking. He had close-cropped, dark hair. Not a kid by any means, but very handsome. She read about his occupation and giggled softly. “A doctor. . . You’d like that, Eden.” Harley remembered her mother’s half-joking fantasies that Harley would marry a doctor and shook her head, still smiling. She read on. He was widowed with one daughter. Last name Sharif. First name Abisi. Harley stared at the name. The profile said he was born in Egypt. Harley had heard that Egypt was turning more and more fundamentalist. She leaned back in her chair and buried her face in her hands. She murmured, “God, extremism killed John. Can I do this?
” Harley sighed and berated her own narrow-mindedness. “Remember that not all Muslims are extremists. Prejudice is just plain evil.” Nico sat near her, wagging his tail in seeming agreement and shot her a look that seemed to say, Go for it. Well, maybe she needed some adventure in her life, to break out of her comfort zone. Hopefully, this guy would provide it.
Nico nuzzled against her leg and then placed his face on her thigh.
“What’s up, boy? Would you like having a nice doctor around here? At least, he can write like a human being. You’d write better than some of these guys.”
Nico wagged his tail happily and gazed at her expectantly. Harley didn’t want to commit herself to meeting the guy yet. Writing e-mails seemed harmless, but a meeting would mean she was obligated to keep talking to or meeting him. A large part of her was still very committed to John. “Let’s take a walk, boyfriend.” She rubbed Nico’s ears.
When she passed Eden’s sealed room, Harley heard what sounded like a pecking at the window. She hurriedly made her way to the kitchen and retrieved the dog’s leash. Once in the street, Harley glanced at the window of her mother’s bedroom. A large white dove flew nearby, its wings fluttering rapidly. Harley stared at it for a long time and then talked to Nico as he trotted by her side. “What should I do? This guy seems literate and considerate, but he’ll probably have some of the same issues as all the others.”
The dog wagged his tale and gazed at her with a look that Harley sensed was cynicism. “Okay, I know. I have issues, too.” She suppressed a sob that turned into an ironic laugh and pushed her hair behind her ears. Sharp grief clawed at her soul. Harley hated how the grief could suddenly cast a cloud over her existence even without warning. “Too many people have gone. Too many. I’m tired of death.”
The Doctor and the War Widow Page 4