“Can you hear me now?” Ben shouted, and then he slammed his clenched fist against the pile of traps leaning against the gunwales.
Pete stared at Ben, incredulous. Then he started laughing.
“Oh, that’s good,” he said. “That’ll help.”
“Shut up and gimme your goddamned phone,” Ben said as he held his hand out to his brother, shaking it with impatience.
Pete hesitated, but only for a moment. Then he reached into his jeans pocket, pulled out his cell phone, and handed it to his brother. Ben flipped it open and, without thinking, hit the button to go to the directory. He was startled when the menu came up, and he saw the third listing on the screen.
It read “Julia M” and was followed by her home phone number.
“What the fuck?” he said, turning slowly and glaring at Pete.
“What?” Pete looked bemused as he glanced back and forth between Ben, his sister, and his father.
“Why do you have Julia’s number on your speed dial?”
Pete’s face turned as pale as chalk.
“Mrs. Brown?” Kathy said, her voice hushed as she opened the door and stuck her head inside the room.
The air was thick with the smell of disinfectant, but that didn’t mask another, worse smell lingering below it. Kathy wrinkled her nose and on reflex leaned down and covered Amanda’s nose with her hand as she wheeled the stroller into the room. Amanda was dozing and faintly stirred.
“I’ll leave you alone,” Mrs. Appleby said, taking a few steps back.
Lilly Brown, wearing a tattered pink nightgown and brown slippers, was sitting by the window. Her hair was unwashed and hanging down to her shoulders in thin, greasy strands. Kathy barely recognized the woman who had been so warm and welcoming to her back when she had dated Ben.
The window blinds were open, and Lilly was staring out at the falling rain. A short distance across the parking lot was a gentle slope, covered with short pine trees. Tangles of mist flowed and twisted between them, low to the ground.
“Hello, Mrs. Brown.”
Feeling a little braver, Kathy pushed the stroller into the room and approached the woman. She jumped, feeling trapped when Mrs. Appleby closed the door behind her, shutting her inside.
“I thought I’d stop by and see how you were doing,” Kathy said smiling.
Still no response from the woman. She sat there, her eyes glazed as she stared outside. Kathy might have thought Lilly was dead except, every now and then, she blinked. When she did, her eyelids made faint clicking sounds.
“How are you doing?” Kathy asked.
She was getting used to getting no response, so she jumped again and pulled back when Lilly rotated her head slowly and looked at her. As soon as she saw the baby in the stroller, a thin smile spread across her face, and her eyes lit up. Then she lifted her eyes to Kathy’s face, and a cold anger spread across her features.
“What the devil are you doing here?” she said, her voice cracked as if from disuse.
“I was — umm …” She considered telling the truth, that Ben had asked her to visit, but she decided not to confuse things and finished, “I wanted to stop in and say ‘Hi.’”
“Why do you have Louise out on a day like this?” Lilly raised her right hand and hooked her thumb in the direction of the window.
“Louise?” Kathy said, confused. She wondered what Lilly was talking about. Had Louise been by earlier, and she was mixed up? Did Lilly even know what day it was? Perhaps she was remembering another time Louise when had visited.
“I — umm … We were out doing errands, and I thought I’d stop in and … and —”
“I want you to take her home. Take her home this minute, and get her into some dry clothes,” Lilly said.
The edge in her voice genuinely frightened Kathy, and she suddenly feared for her daughter’s safety as Lilly stared at her. The old woman looked like she was about to get up out of her chair and rush them, so Kathy backed the stroller up, thankful that Amanda was still sleeping.
“She’ll catch her death, being out on a day like this,” Lilly said.
“Do you mean Amanda?”
No matter what she had heard before about Alzheimer’s, Kathy wasn’t at all prepared for this. She was annoyed at Ben for even suggesting she come and visit, and now, all she wanted to do was make a graceful exit.
“I — ah — I’m sorry,” Kathy said. “Maybe … maybe we’ll come back some other time.”
“That’s right,” Lilly said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m paying you damned good money to baby-sit my little girl, and if you think … if you think …”
Her voice trailed away, leaving the emptiness in the room broken only by the faint sound of wind-blown rain hitting against the window.
“I … I’ll do better,” Kathy said. “I’m sorry I upset you.”
She wheeled the stroller around so fast Amanda’s head lolled to one side, and her eyes snapped open.
“It’s okay, baby,” Kathy whispered as she pushed the door open, blinking as she stepped out into the harsh, glaring light of the hallway.
“Done already?” Mrs. Appleby said from behind the front desk as Kathy wheeled the stroller toward the front entrance.
“Yes,” Kathy said, her voice pitched high like it was trapped in her throat. “I — she wasn’t in the mood for a visit, I guess.”
“Thanks for stopping by,” Mrs. Appleby said with a friendly wave. “I’m sure she appreciated it.”
But Kathy barely acknowledged her. She was out the door and heading to the car, unmindful of the downpour as she belted Amanda into her car seat as quickly as possible. She was drenched to the skin and shivering by the time she got the driver’s door open and dropped onto the seat behind the steering wheel. She was panting hard.
Her tires chirped on the wet pavement as she stepped a little too hard on the accelerator. She couldn’t stop thinking about Lilly Brown, imagining her staring out the window of her dark room and watching with a cold, empty stare as she drove away. It was only after she got home, carried Amanda inside, and got her settled with a bottle that Kathy finally realized why Lilly had gotten so agitated.
Kathy had always thought Amanda favored Ben more than her side of the family. Lilly must have seen the family resemblance.
Lilly had mistaken Amanda for her own daughter, the baby Louise she remembered from so many years ago.
Julia was unable to sit still in the hospital waiting room. She’d sit down on one of the chairs in the waiting room, but after less than a minute fidgeting, she would get up and start pacing again, all the while slapping her clenched fist repeatedly into the palm of her hand. It made a wet smacking sound that kept time with her pacing. She knew she should sit down … take some deep breaths … and relax … but she simply couldn’t.
The emergency room had five other occupants. Closest to the door, a mother sat, hugging her three or four year old son whose right hand was wrapped in a small, white hand towel. A red blossom of blood was slowly spreading across the fabric. The mother’s face was pale and pinched with worry. The kid’s shoulders shook with dry sobs as he buried his face against his mother’s neck, exhausted from all the crying he had already done.
Across from them, at the far end of the room, a thin man who looked to be in his early thirties was sprawled in a chair, his legs thrust out in front of him, his head thrown back against the wall. His eyes were closed, and he kept rolling his head from side to side while moaning softly and muttering to himself. Julia could only make out fragments of what he was saying.
In the chairs lining the wall opposite the front desk, underneath an oil painting of a farm in autumn, a very pregnant girl who couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen was sitting next to an equally young-looking boy who was holding a baggie filled with ice against his jaw. His eyes were bloodshot and watery. He looked dazed with pain, and he winced whenever he shifted his position in the chair.
As Julia contemplated the private tragedie
s befalling her theoretical neighbors, she felt lonelier than ever. Since moving to The Cove, she had tried to engage in the rhythm and flow of life in a small town, but she had felt … if not rejected, exactly, certainly not welcome or accepted by anyone … none, that is, except for some of the men, who had made it all too obvious what they wanted.
And then there was Ben …
What about Ben?
He had finally returned her call and said he was on his way to the hospital, but she was thinking it was already too late. The anticipation of seeing him mixed with a rush of conflicting emotions. As much as she cared about him and as much as she wanted to see if they could make a go of their relationship, she was worried about the panic attack he’d had last night and that he’d been so unnerved by it he left rather than stay with her. He kept so much locked away from her.
But the ultimate truth dawning on her was that she was going to have to create her own destiny rather than depend on a man — any man — to “save” her.
“Hey, there.”
She jumped when Ben spoke suddenly behind her. She hadn’t heard or seen him enter the emergency room. Spinning around, she forced a smile as he came toward her, his arms upraised to embrace her. The look of intense sympathy in his eyes touched her heart. Any doubts she might have entertained about him — at least at that moment — evaporated in an instant. They hugged in the middle of the room and then kissed, long and passionately, clinging to each other. Julia couldn’t help but feel self-conscious, knowing that everyone in the room was probably watching them and wondering what their personal little drama was.
“How you holding up?” Ben asked as he broke off the hug and looked down at her up-turned face. His eyes sparkled like chips of blue diamond, but his mouth was set in a grim, straight line.
“Okay, I guess … I’m okay,” she said. She eased out of his embrace and then, hand-in-hand, they walked over to two empty chairs and sat down.
“So tell me … What happened?”
Julia shuddered and blinked her eyes rapidly to hold back the tears.
“I had … I had fixed him lunch, like I always do, and we were eating in the living room … with the TV on. He likes to watch the noontime news, and then he … he … Oh, Ben. It was really scary. He started acting so weird.”
“Weird? Like how?”
“I asked him a question. I don’t even remember what it was now, and he started to stutter and then … then, when he tried to pick up his sandwich, he couldn’t get his left arm to move.”
“Good God,” Ben said as he cupped her hands and gave them a strong, reassuring squeeze. “Sounds like —”
“— like a stroke. I know. They’re checking him out now, but I have no idea what’s going on. Nobody’s told me anything.”
Ben glanced at the person — an elderly woman with short, gray hair — who was sitting at the desk behind a glass partition. The overhead lights reflecting off the glass made it difficult to see, but he thought it was Edna Anderson, who lived on Bay View Road.
“You want me to ask?” he said as he made a move to go to the front desk.
“No … no.” Julia grimaced and shook her head. “I —” She faced Ben and, freeing one hand from his grip, slid it up his arm and around his neck. “I’m glad you came. I was feeling so alone.”
Ben smiled and nodded.
“You’re not alone anymore,” he said, but even as he pulled her close and hugged her again, she sensed that something was different. His body was wire-tight with tension, and he didn’t yield to her the way he usually did.
They held each other in silence for a long time, breathing into each other’s ear. Julia fought hard to control the sobs and tremors that kept rippling through her. They both jumped when the doors to the examination rooms slammed open, and a young man dressed in hospital “greens” stepped into the corridor. His thick, dark hair looked like it needed a good washing. He had small, dark eyes and a sallow complexion, and looked entirely too young to be a doctor. He couldn’t be more than a year or two out of med. school.
He looked around the waiting room, his gaze quickly landing on Julia.
“Miss Meadows?” he said, raising his eyebrows as he started toward her.
Julia’s legs felt too weak to support her as she stood up and nodded. She tried to speak but couldn’t. Ben stood up slowly beside her and slipped an arm around her waist. The support was amazing, and she thought to herself that she could never have faced this without Ben here.
“Would you come with me please?”
The doctor had a small plastic badge that read: DR. ROBBINS pinned above the pocket of his hospital shirt. He looked at Ben and, frowning, said, “Are you family?”
Before Ben replied, Julia said, “Yes. He is,” and tugged him along with her as she moved forward.
They followed Doctor Robbins down the brightly lit hallway to a closed door. He opened the door for them, stepping to one side so they could enter first. Inside the small room was a desk. It was covered with multi-colored folders and reams of computer printouts. Next to the desk were two metal chairs with padded seats, seatbacks, and arm rests. The green vinyl was worn and cracked with use. Julia wondered how many people had sat in these very chairs and heard the bad news that a loved one had died.
“Please,” Dr. Robbins said, indicating the chairs with a quick sweep of his hand like he was brushing away cobwebs. “Have a seat.”
Julia sat down, poised on the edge of her chair with her knees pressed tightly together. The cold, winding apprehension in the pit of her stomach was almost unbearable. She shot a quick glance at Ben but then looked back at the doctor, not wanting Ben to see how scared she was.
“Well, as we suspected when he first arrived, your father has suffered a stroke,” Dr. Robbins said without preamble.
Before he said anything more, Julia blurted out, “How bad was it?” Horrible images filled her head of her father as a pale, drooling invalid.
The expression on Dr. Robbins’s face froze, and a heavy curtain dropped behind his eyes as though he was cutting himself off from what was really happening here.
“A bad one, I’m afraid,” he said.
“How …” She gulped. “How bad?” She heard her voice as if someone else was speaking in another room.
“He’s …”
Dr. Robbins blinked his eyes rapidly a few times as he glanced up at the ceiling. He looked as though he was wishing he was doing something — anything else besides having this conversation.
Julia wondered if it was his youth and lack of experience or the severity of her father’s conditions, but something was making it difficult for him to tell her exactly what was going on. Anger flashed inside her like the glint off a honed knife blade. All she wanted — right now, damnit! — was the truth, no matter how bad.
“He’s in a coma, and while it’s impossible to predict what will happen next, I would say the prognosis is not very encouraging.”
“Not very encouraging,” Ben muttered, as if he were the doctor’s echo. Julia winced as his grip on her hand tightened painfully. She shot him a quick look that said: Leave this to me.
“When will you know?” she asked.
“We’ll have to conduct a battery of tests to determine the extent and exact nature of the damage and the possible outcome, but for now I … I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Miss Meadows, but I don’t hold out much hope for a full recovery.”
“Aren’t you being a little too pessimistic here?” Ben said. His voice snapped in the air like a bullwhip. Julia was taken aback by his reaction, and she looked at him, puzzled.
“Beg pardon?” Dr. Robbins said, leaning forward, his hands folded on a stack of papers on the desk in front of him.
“I mean — if it’s too early to tell, like you say, and you need to do more tests, I’m not sure it helps the situation here to be telling us you have no idea what happened and that you don’t hold out much hope that he — her father — that Mr. Capozza will recover.”
Ben’s tone was stinging, and for a heartbeat or two, Dr. Robbins looked flustered, unable to speak. He raised his right hand to his mouth and pinched his lower lip while staring blankly straight ahead.
“At this point, there’s no way of knowing. I simply wish to prepare Miss Meadows for what might prove to be a negative patient outcome,” Dr. Robbins said.
“’Negative patient outcome?’” Ben almost barked the words, and Julia looked at him, wide-eyed. “Jesus Fucking Christ! Is that what you call it now? A ‘negative patient outcome?’ What happened to good old-fashioned words like ‘death’ and ‘dying’? Cut to the chase, will yah Doc?”
Dr. Robbins let his shoulders drop as he took a breath, held it for a few seconds, and then exhaled slowly between his teeth. His eyes had a distant glaze as he focused on — or past — Ben.
“As I said — it’s entirely too early to tell, but I can assure you that the stroke your father — Is he your father?” He nailed Ben with a steady stare.
Neither Ben nor Julia replied, and after a brief silence, Dr. Robbins continued as if he hadn’t asked the question.
“I can assure you that your father has had a serious stroke and that you have to prepare yourself for a very long and difficult recovery.”
“I … I understand that,” Julia said. “Is there … Did he suffer any brain damage?”
“We need to do more tests to determine that, but I’d say — yes. The stroke appears to have been massive.”
Julia moaned as she cast a quick glance at Ben. Ben looked like he was coiled and ready to spring out of the chair and throttle Dr. Robbins. Still, she had to appreciate the way Ben was trying to get Dr. Robbins to cut the legalistic medical mumbo-jumbo and tell them in plain English what was going on.
Say what you will about people from small Maine coastal towns, she thought. They sure don’t tolerate bullshit of any flavor, color, or aroma.
“For the time being,” Dr. Robbins said, “I’d suggest you both go home and try to relax. Your father’s in intensive care, and you won’t be able to see him for some time yet. We’re doing everything medically possible.”
The Cove Page 29