Honey and Leonard (23 page)

"Oh, that's a good one," Leonard said. "I'd better write that one down."

Dr. Laughlin came walking down the hall with three nurses and introduced them to Honey and Leonard. "Leonard, you'll be going with Susan and Laura here, and Honey, you'll be going with Sandra. I'm sorry to break up this little party. I'll get you back together before lunch."

As the doctor spoke, Jack Crumbo came walking down the hall, unescorted.

"Hello, Jack," Dr. Laughlin said. "How'd you get in without a pass? Not that I'm not happy to see you."

"People let me in anywhere these days," Crumbo said. "It seems everybody knows I'm with Honey and Leonard. Hi, guys. You look cute in your little hospital gowns. How's it going?"

"It's a little breezy," Leonard said. "What brings you to the hospital? Is everything all right?"

Crumbo looked at the doctor as if requesting permission to proceed. Once Dr. Laughlin nodded approvingly, Crumbo said, "I thought you ought to know that Gretchen has checked herself into rehab. She's less than an hour drive from here."

"Good Lord," Leonard gasped. "Is she okay?"

"She's better than ever," Crumbo said. "She hasn't had a drink that anybody knows about for 24 days. It looks like she'll be checking out in four more days."

"Can we go see her?" Leonard asked, looking to Dr. Laughlin for an answer.

"You could go tomorrow," he said. "Your testing will be completed and I'm pretty sure they allow family visits. She's at Mapleton, right?" he asked Crumbo.

"That's right," Crumbo said. "Nobody knows it yet. I called her attorney, Alice Chambers. She wouldn't confirm it but she wouldn't deny it either. She knows Gretchen is in trouble about your money, Leonard. And she knows rehab might help her client's position. She just doesn't want to break the story herself."

"How did you find out?" Honey asked.

"She called me one night in a big drunk and let it slip that she was in a hotel in Warsaw, Indiana. She wanted to set the record straight about how incompetent her Uncle Leonard was and how the evil Honey had him under her spell."

"What did I ever do to make her hate me so?" Honey asked.

"You stole her Uncle Leonard," Crumbo said. "You should have heard her on the phone. She was spitting fire."

"So how did you find out about the rehab?" Dr. Laughlin asked as his nurses listened in wide-eyed amazement.

"I tracked her to the hotel; there's not that many in Warsaw. Then I found a maid who was mad about the mess she left without leaving a tip. Sure enough, the maid overheard her talking with a woman who came to pick her up. She said they were talking about going to a hospital called Mapleton."

"Did you tip the maid?" Leonard asked.

"A hundred bucks, but don't worry about it. I'll put it on your bill."

"So who talked at Mapleton?" Dr. Laughlin asked. "That place has pretty high confidentiality standards."

"It just so happens," Crumbo said, "that one of my fellow reporters, who shall remain unnamed, happens to be a guest at the same facility. The reporter is female and she's even had a conversation with Gretchen. She says Gretchen is doing quite well with her program of recovery. It might be a good time for you to go see her."

"Why do you say that?" Leonard asked.

"She might be ready to make amends," Crumbo said. "From what I understand, that's a pretty important part of rehab and recovery."

"That's not why we would go see her," Honey said. "We'd go see her because we want to help any way we can."

Everybody stared at Honey like she had just suggested something completely crazy.

"Oh, so you don't think I should go. Is that it?" Honey surmised what they were thinking.

"Wherever I go, Honey goes," Leonard said.

"Well that settles that," Dr. Laughlin said. "When are you going to break the story?" he asked Crumbo.

"I'd like to file it today, but I thought I would talk to Honey and Leonard first."

"Why don't you wait until we can talk to her," Leonard said. "I don't want her to feel like we've got her cornered."

"That's a good idea, sweetie," said Honey. "I want to show her we can still be friends and stop all this nonsense. Now that Leonard and I are married, she is technically my niece too."

"She's the one who wants to get your marriage declared illegal," Crumbo said.

"We'll see about that," Honey said.

Leonard stood up to face his most terrible fear. He was losing his mind. He had no idea what he was doing in front of a judge. The two men who stood up with him were apparently his attorneys, but he couldn't remember their names or why he had hired them.

He looked around behind him at the crowded gallery and saw Honey in the first row. She was crying. He could tell. She kept dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

Judge Fee took his seat behind a raised wooden desk in front of a marbled wall. The artistic backdrop had pillars and bas-relief sculptures of soldiers fighting Indians in one panel and having peace talks in the next. Leonard couldn't help but notice another panel to the far left depicted a single pioneer being burned at the stake by a crowd of dancing Indians. That's how he felt. Like he was being burned at the stake.

The Indiana flag was on one side of the judge's bench with the United States flag on the other. A court reporter sat at a smaller desk in front of the judge, recording the proceedings. The witness stand was between the judge and the jury box. There was no jury. Leonard racked his brain, trying to remember how he had gotten into this predicament. And why was there no jury?

The judge had a gavel but he didn't bang it on his desk before taking charge of the hearing with a booming voice. The nearly 200 people in the large room with a 30-foot ceiling could all hear him well.

"You may be seated."

The courtroom resonated with the creaking and rumpling of people taking their seats. The old, wooden chairs were attached to each other in long rows. A wooden railing separated the courtroom proper from the spectator section.

Leonard was at a table right in front of the judge's bench. To his left, he could see his niece, Gretchen, seated at opposing counsel's table. She would not return his gaze.

"We are here today in the matter of the Petition for Guardianship over Leonard Atkins," the Judge said. "Are counsel ready to proceed?"

Gretchen's attorney, Alice Chambers, was first to speak since she had filed the petition. "We are, your honor."

Leonard grabbed his attorney's arm and whispered into his ear, "If this is about my guardianship, I'm not ready. I'm having a really bad moment here. I can't remember my own name."

Michael McNamara was a New York City attorney with 30 years of litigation experience. Never had a client put him in such an awkward position. Nonetheless, he barely missed a beat before saying to the court, "Excuse me, your honor, but my client informs me he is having a medical emergency."

"Shall I call for emergency services?" the Judge asked.

"May we approach the bench, your honor?" McNamara asked.

"Please do," the judge said.

As the attorneys talked to the judge, Leonard looked around the courtroom. He could see reporters and people he knew he should recognize but could not. He did know Honey, who gave him a weak, thumbs-up signal. And then he saw something he thought he would never see again. There, in the third row on the left, sat his long-deceased, only daughter. She smiled and waved happily.

At that point, Leonard knew he was in serious trouble. He was having visions.

The lawyers finished talking to the judge and came back to their respective tables and talked some more. Leonard heard their voices but he couldn't understand what they were saying. He was in a daydream he could not shake. The world shifted into a fuzzy slow motion. It felt like he was sliding backwards, down a tunnel, with nothing to help regain his footing. Once again, he wondered what he was doing in a courtroom in front of a judge. He heard his name called and his attorney had to help him take the witness stand. Leonard had become so disoriented it was difficult to walk.

"Are you able to proceed, Mr. Atkins?" the judge asked.

"I think so."

"Very well, raise your right hand."

Leonard raised his left hand.

"Your other right hand," the judge said.

The judge waited until Leonard's correct hand was in the air. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I'll do my best," Leonard said. The room had fallen completely silent. He felt like everyone could see he was disoriented to the point of being in a daze. Leonard felt suffocated by their attention. He tried to breathe deeply to regain his bearings. It didn't help.

"Please state your name for the record," Attorney Chambers moved in for the quick kill. She had planned to make her case with testimony from the nursing home doctors, but once she saw Leonard's condition, she decided to call him as her first witness.

Leonard looked to the judge for help. "I can't remember it right now, your honor, but I'm just having a bad moment. I'm not always this bad."

"Mr. Atkins," the judge said. "I can't help you answer the questions. Just do your best. If you don't know the answer, just say you don't know."

"My name is Mr. Atkins," Leonard answered. Nobody laughed at the fact the judge had helped him answer the question.

"We know that," Attorney Chambers said. "The judge just told you that. But I want to know your full name; first, last and middle."

Leonard thought about being cute. That wouldn't work. He wasn't thinking very well at all. He couldn't remember his own name. It was humiliating. Losing your mind isn't usually too hard because you don't know what's happening. But now, Leonard was being made keenly aware of his memory deficit. He hung his head in shame.

"I can't remember it right now," he said.

"Do you know where you are?" Chambers asked.

"I'm in a court of law."

"And what are you doing in this court of law?"

Leonard looked helplessly at the judge, who made a hand gesture for Leonard to return to the question.

Leonard took a big sigh and said, "I don't know why I'm here."

As he spoke, the silent courtroom rumbled into a collective murmur of disbelief and pity. Honey jumped out of her chair and ran to the witness stand, grabbed Leonard by the shoulders and tried to shake some sense into him. The bailiff grabbed her from behind. Leonard held on to her arms. Other officers rushed in to assist in the human tug of war. Leonard cried out in anguish as they pried Honey's arms out of his grasp. It felt like he was losing her forever. He heard himself beginning to sob. It was awful to be crying in front of so many people.

He could see Honey being taken away, but at the same time, he could feel her shaking him. How could that be?

"Leonard, wake up," Honey said. "Wake up. You're having a terrible dream."

Leonard came out of his troubled sleep with a massive snort. He looked at Honey, trying to get his bearings. His cheeks were wet with tears. It took him several seconds to recognize her. "Oh, Honey, thank God it's you. I was having a terrible dream. I was losing my mind in a court of law. I couldn't remember my own name. I was losing you. They were dragging you away. You were trying to save me."

"There, there, sweetie. You're with me now. You know who I am, don't you?"

"Of course I do, pumpkin. And I know my name is Leonard."

"So everything is fine."

"No, everything is not fine. I am losing my mind, slowly but surely. The dreams remind me all the time. It won't be long before this damned Alzheimer's takes me away from you. It's not fair to you and it's not fair to me. It's not fair at all."

"Life's not fair. We both know that. The only thing fair is the State Fair. Come to think of it, after the big stage collapsed at the Fair and killed all those people, I'm not even sure the State Fair is fair anymore."

Leonard couldn't help but chuckle at her sense of humor. It always picked him up. He got out of bed and got dressed. They were still in the hotel near the hospital. It was almost 6 a.m.. They went out for breakfast and found some great waffles at a hole-in-the-wall diner.

"Let's go see Gretchen," he said as the waitress poured him a second cup of coffee.

"Are you sure you're ready?" Honey asked.

"After dreams like I just had, it feels like the sooner I go see Gretchen, the better off we'll all be."

"What are you going to say to her?"

"I don't know. That depends on what she has to say to me."

Gretchen wanted to run to her Uncle Leonard and throw her arms around him and hug him like the long-lost love he was. But Honey was sitting right next to him at the round table in the back of the recovery center cafeteria. Gretchen wanted to throw her arms around Honey and slam her to the floor like the bitch that ruined her life.

Still conflicted, but twenty-seven days sober, Gretchen breathed deeply in an effort to appear relaxed as she approached her visiting couple. They looked much younger even than their newspaper photos. They looked happy together. They were holding hands on top of the table.

Yes, I can see your wedding rings. You don't have to rub it in.

"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Atkins," Gretchen said, extending her hand to Leonard.

"No, no. That won't do. Come give me a hug," Leonard said. "And congratulations, yourself. You're doing what I could never get your father to do. We're very proud of you."

Gretchen hugged Leonard warmly and then Honey more formally. "They told me I had visitors, but I never dreamed it would be you two. You're famous now. How did you get in here without a mob of reporters following you?"

"We made arrangements with the management here. We told them what car we'd be driving and they let us in through the loading dock behind the kitchen," Leonard said.

Gretchen waited for him to continue. Honey remained silent.

Leonard looked into Gretchen's eyes as though searching for her soul. Gretchen couldn't help herself. She started crying and sat down at the table. Leonard took her hands in his and let her cry.

Gretchen finally looked up and asked, "Can you forgive me, Uncle Leonard?"

She could see her uncle was having trouble holding back his own tears so she continued, "I'm sorry for spending your money like it was my own. I started out small and always meant to pay it back and then I got mad about Honey and I started spending it to hurt you and I don't know why I did all the things I did. I am so, so sorry."

Leonard wrapped his arms around her and gave her the kind of hug he always gave her as a child. They were both crying. Honey was crying too.

They were both laughing in embarrassment by the time the hug came to its emotional conclusion.

"Of course, I forgive you," Leonard said. "What kind of uncle would I be if I couldn't forgive my favorite niece? But there is one thing I need to know."

"What's that?" Gretchen asked.

"What about the farm?"

Gretchen wasn't quite ready to take complete responsibility for her actions. She had been lying to herself so long she almost believed herself when she said, "The farm? You told me to sell the farm. You said it was too close to town and the highway. You said it would only stand in the way of progress."

Gretchen watched her uncle's response. This was her private test of his competency. He might think his memory had gotten so bad that he had forgotten what he had said to her.

Leonard looked at her sternly. His eyebrows formed a deep furrow of a frown but his mouth was slowly developing the first signs of a sarcastic smirk. "Gretchen . . ." he said in a warning tone.

"No. You wanted me to help find a buyer for the farm. That's why you signed the Power of Attorney in the first place."

Gretchen studied her uncle's eyes. He obviously knew he had the moral high ground. His steady gaze pierced her heart. She knew the truth and now she could see he remembered the truth as well as she did. She lowered her head. She couldn't look him in the eyes. He said nothing, waiting for her to come clean.

"I know I shouldn't have done it," she confessed. "It started when you were in the nursing home. Most of it happened while you were away. I finally went through with the deal when everybody was saying you were dead."

"What about after they found out we were alive?"

Gretchen lowered her head again and said, "I am so, so sorry. I know what I did was wrong.

Leonard said nothing. The silence was deafening.

Finally, Honey couldn't take it anymore. She had to speak. "We can fix all this, you know."

"You stay out of this," Gretchen said without raising her head.

"Gretchen," Leonard said. "Honey is my wife now. You're going to have to get used to it. I don't want her staying out of anything. But us getting married doesn't mean I don't love you as much as I always did. Come on, look at me." Gretchen raised her head. "You're still the little girl I taught how to ride horses and drive tractors."

"No, I'm not. I'm the drunk who stole your money and sold your farm."

"Come on now, Gretchen. It's only money. Nobody got killed. What the hey, I got married out of the deal. Who knows? Without you churning up the butter, Honey and I might never have run off to France."

Gretchen looked at her uncle in amazement. Then she looked at Honey, who was smiling back at her hopefully. Gretchen felt the world turning inside her head. She looked Honey in the eyes and saw kindness. She felt like she'd just fallen off a tall tightrope and been saved by a sagging, safety net. As she sighed deeply in relief, Honey and Leonard joined hands with her.

"So, how can we fix this?" Gretchen asked.