Illusions Complete Series (25 page)

For his part, Ryan was dressed in a dark blue pinstriped shirt and typical Italian mega-dollar suit with his Ferragamo shoes. As usual, he looked like he walked off the pages of GQ.

The receptionist smiled. We no doubt were the best dressed people that ever walked these halls. “Hi, Ryan. And you must be Iris.”

I was somewhat taken aback.
Does everybody in Ryan’s life know about me?  

“Yes, I’m Iris.”

Ryan said “How is she today?”

“Great, actually. She’s still lucid.”

“Wonderful. I hope that there isn’t a relapse.”

“She hasn’t relapsed in awhile. It seems that the drugs she’s on are really working wonders.”

Ryan nodded. Then he turned to me. “Uh, make sure there are no metals in your pocket or anything. Take off your watch.”

I took off my earrings and watch, and threw my keys into a container. Then we walked through a metal detector. The detector went off when I walked through, so I took off my shoes. Sometimes shoes have metal in them. This time, the metal detector did not go off.

Grabbing my belongings, and putting my shoes back on, I joined Ryan in the elevator. We took the elevator up to the 8
floor, and, clutching my hand, Ryan led me to a shared room that had a divider in between. An ancient television was positioned above the two beds. A fortyish woman lay on the bed, her wrists bound with leather straps. I prayed that this wasn’t Maggie, although I was pretty sure that it wasn’t, as this woman looked nothing like the woman in Ryan’s paintings.

“Hello, Rosey. Where’s mom?” Ryan asked the woman.

She looked through us, not seeing us, yet looked right at us. She didn’t speak.

Ryan frowned. “Rosey must not be having a great day. Let’s go to the TV room and see what’s happening there.”

We headed down to the TV room. There was a skinny, red-headed guy with wild hair, shouting at nobody in particular. “Leave me alone!” he shouted, his head shaking wildly. “Mother fucker!” he shrieked, punching the air behind him. Another lady came right up to me. “Roxanne, is that you?” she asked, her hand touching my face. She grabbed my hand. “I’m so happy to see you. I knew that you wouldn’t forget my birthday.” She led me to a chair, and, next to the chair, a fifty-ish, heavy-set man sat in another chair, just staring. “Oh, don’t mind Robert,” said the Roxanne woman. “He doesn’t talk. He hasn’t talked in 20 years.” At that, Robert looked at us, mutely. Then, his eyes got large and he said “Boo!” Then doubled over laughing.

I took a deep breath. I could feel myself shaking just a little bit. Then I noticed that Ryan was no longer by my side. I looked around, and saw him across the room, with a small, dark-haired woman who looked just like a movie star. I could see where he got his green eyes. She looked over at me, and smiled a perfect smile. She gestured for me to come over.

But the Roxanne lady, whose name I later learned was Peggy, had a firm grip on my hand. “You can’t leave yet, Roxanne. You just got here. It has been so long.”

I looked over at the dark-haired lady, obviously Maggie, helplessly. She came over. “Peggy, this isn’t Roxanne. Roxanne is no longer with us. Remember?”

At that, Peggy looked at me, then got a very faraway look. “Oh, right, right. I’m sorry.” Then she turned away and faced the window, while Robert continued to shriek and laugh, and the red-haired man continued to shout “Goddamn, it, I told you to leave me the fuck alone!”

At that, Maggie took my hand, and led me back over to where she and Ryan sat. I looked at her close up. She was around 55, couldn’t be much older than that. Or at least she didn’t look it. In fact, she looked ten years younger than that. Her hair was dark, with a just a bit of grey. Her face was remarkably smooth, even though she didn’t weigh 110 lbs. I always heard that, when you get older, you have to choose between your ass and your face – either you are thin and wrinkly, or you are plump and get to keep your youthful face. Maggie had a small ass and a smooth face. Genetics were kind to this family. Her teeth were perfect, like Ryan’s, and her eyes were the same color of mesmerizing green. She was really a lovely woman.

“I’m so sorry about Peggy,” she said. “She lost her daughter about 20 years ago, and has been here ever since. The poor woman thinks that every red-headed girl who comes in here is Roxanne.”

Ryan nodded. “Peggy is a good woman, but she’s not always med compliant.”

“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” Maggie said. “Ryan has been here every week, and he talks about you all the time.”

What could I say? Ryan talked about her, some, mostly in generalities. I didn’t think that he was exactly ashamed of her, but I didn’t know too much about her, either.

“He, uh, talks about you too.”

She smiled slyly. “Oh, I doubt that. Ryan never knows what to tell people about me.”

“I hear that you’re a great singer.”

“Well, yes, I would hope so. I used to fill houses in Ireland when I was younger. When Ryan was very young.”

At that, she started singing. Humming, really. Bach’s
Air on a G String.
I loved this piece, and her voice was hypnotic. Ryan smiled, and I could see his face relax.

After that song was over, she looked at me and asked me if I had any requests. Before I could answer, however, she launched into a pitch-perfect
Fur Elize
on the piano. A gorgeous Beethoven piece, it was breathtaking to hear such a perfect rendition. This was something, considering that the piano was old and, no-doubt, second-hand. Yet Maggie played it like it was a baby-grand. Then she started playing Rachmaninoff’s
Theme of Paganini.
Then some Tchaikovsky music from
The Nutcracker,
but also his Second Symphony. Then, out of nowhere, came the Gary Jules version of
Mad World,
with Maggie and Ryan both singing harmony on this. Then
Christmastime is Here
from the Charlie Brown Christmas special. Then
Wrapped Around Your Finger
by the Police. Ryan had a huge smile on his face the entire time.

He moved over to me. “Maggie is in her element.” I smiled, but I noticed that nobody was paying us much attention. The woman was giving a concerto, and nobody really cared. I was guessing that everybody was, literally, in their own worlds.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ve been indulgent. I guess I wanted to show off for Ryan’s special lady.” She smiled knowingly. Ryan was blushing. “Now, you were saying – what would you like to hear?”

“Well, it’s Christmas. My favorite Christmas standard is
O Holy Night.
”

At that, Maggie launched into an elaborate version of this familiar tune. Ryan and I joined her in singing. After that, we sang one Christmas song after another – including John Lennon’s
War is Over.

I was treated to this special performance for a few hours, and I was in heaven. I loved every tune that she played. However, at some point, she had to stop. She looked at me and said “Oh, heavens, I have been playing and singing for hours. I really should stop, so that I can get to know you, Iris.”

But first, she launched into one more song – Michael Martin Murphy’s
Wildfire.
One of my favorite songs. By the time she ended the song, I was crying. She finished the song, then smiled angelically at me. Ryan was silently watching the interaction between us, his arm around her. I noticed him playing with her hair, which was always his loving gesture.

Maggie got up from the piano, and took a seat on the other side of the room. She gestured to Ryan and me to join her.

“So, Iris. How was your Christmas?”

“Oh, it was fabulous. The best ever.” I meant that, and it had zero to do with the elaborate gifts.

She smiled. “Mine, too. I have a wonderful son.”

I wondered about Sarah, where she was. Maggie went on. “And a wonderful daughter, as well. Alas, she’s out of the country this Christmas, with her husband. I wish that you could meet her, but, I guess, some other time.”

She continued. “So, I guess you have family in town?”

I nodded.

“You saw them last night?”

“Yes, we went over there to visit last night.”

“You’re very lucky. From what Ryan tells me, you have a great family.”

I realized she was right. My family was financially broke, but they were intact, and we all loved one another very much. Ryan might have love with his mother, but his father….not so much.

“And you have a career.”

“Such as it is.”

“Don’t give that up. Women always need to have skills, and support themselves. You just never know when your support might be cut off.” I knew that she referred to her own situation, but I didn’t think that she was cut off financially. But maybe she was.

But she didn’t seem bitter. She still smiled angelically. And I realized that, even though she fought mental illness, her overall demeanor was very similar to Ryan’s. Laid-back, happy, seemingly optimistic. I couldn’t imagine this woman violent, even though I knew what she had done.

She turned to Ryan. “And what is your news for me?”

“Well, Sheldon says that you can probably get out early next year. I’m arranging a group home for you to live in for when you get out.”

She sighed, and looked a little sad. “I was hoping I could live on my own.”

“I hope so, too, eventually. But you have to transition.”

“Yes, yes, of course, of course. It’s just that those group homes are so depressing.”

“Well, let’s see how you do, and how you stay on your meds. Maybe you can live on your own after a year or so.”

She nodded. “Hey, maybe I can meet a guy like John Nash in there, and live happily ever after. As long as both of us stay on our meds.” Then she laughed gaily. “Oh, could you imagine? Me and a mathematics genius?”

“Well, of course. I’m confident that you could keep up with anybody,” Ryan said. “You always kept up very well with my Harvard buddies.”

“Oh, yes. How is Nick these days?”

I felt a bit funny.
I wonder if she knows.
I shook my head.
Of course not. Why would she?

“He’s great, great. Spending Christmas with his family in Switzerland.”

“Oh, they’re back in Switzerland? Wonder why they want to live there?”

“I think that they go there every year to ski. Nick, his mother and father, and Nick’s wife and kids.”

“Oh, ok, they aren’t living there. Well, I know why they would want to visit. That’s a gorgeous place.”

“Yeah. Nothing like skiing the Alps.” At that, I groaned inwardly. My own skiing was not progressing apace, and I despaired of ever getting off the Snow Creek slopes. Let alone ski in the Alps.
Ryan will have to take his ski trips without me, if he wants to go in the future.

“Right,” Maggie said. “Ah, remember skiing when you were little? We stayed at that little Italian ski chateau?”

“Of course.”

“You were on the Black course by the time you were ten. You were really a natural.”

Ryan blushed.

Maggie went on “Well, maybe we can go skiing together when I get out of here and I’m well. I’d love to try the double black diamonds with you again.”

“That would be great, mom. I can’t wait for that.” He gestured to me. “Iris is learning to ski. Maybe she can join us?”

“Of course! That goes without saying!”

I kept quiet, not telling her that I had never actually been skiing, except on the baby slopes of Snow Creek, which was the skiing park just north of Kansas City. Even those little slopes scared the living crap out of me.
Oh, well, they can ski their double black diamonds. I’ll stay behind at the lodge and get drunk.

The day went along like this, as I chatted with Maggie and Ryan. She was an exceedingly sweet woman, talented, beautiful and smart. Just like he described her.

We had dinner there with her, as well. The food there was not as good as the food where Ryan stayed. However, because it was Christmas, they tried to provide something special. It was mashed potatoes that tasted like they came from a box, cranberries from a can; and turkey gravy. The yams also came from a can, although they had little marshmallows on them, which were not completely melted. Their rolls, however, were divine. Absolutely divine. They reminded me of the rolls that I used to get in grade school and high school. My schools served the worst food ever – orange meat, wilted greens, tough ham, mystery food. However, when it came to rolls and breads, nobody did it better. Nobody. The rolls here reminded me of that. I found myself wishing that I could make a meal consisting just of bread.

I thought about my father, who was in the hospital with heart surgery all those Thanksgivings ago. On Thanksgiving Day, they served him chili mac that looked like it had been sitting around for more than a week. So, I figured that the spread that we were getting here was pretty good, considering.

Ryan looked more than pleased to be in Maggie’s presence. And mine, too. I caught him looking at me many times during the meal, and I could tell that he was happy. I must’ve been doing ok.

And Ryan dug into his food like he hadn’t eaten all week. Ryan, in general, was kind of a health food guy – he pretty much ate organic fruits and vegetables, very little processed food, and free range chicken. He, like myself, was well-versed on how crappy food is today, and how many chemicals and preservatives are added into everything, how much pesticides are on our fruits and veggies, and how many antibiotics and hormones are given to our meat producers. I was pleased to know that about him, because I always wanted to go organic, but never could afford to. He could afford to, and he truly believed, so it was the best of both worlds. Yet, here he was, digging into the processed crap like it was the best thing ever. I supposed to him, it was. Because he was spending Christmas with his mother. And with me. He was like – well, he was a like a kid on Christmas morning.

Around 10 o’clock, we had to leave. I was feeling that I had truly a magnificent time. Maggie was a fascinating woman – besides the fact that she could play piano like Rachmaninoff, and sing like Maria Callas, she truly had a great personality. She was witty, intelligent, well-rounded, and warm. For her Christmas, Ryan had brought her a slew of non-fiction and fiction books which were on her list. Among these books were the entire series of
Girl With the Dragon Tattoo
books, the new Rachel Maddow book, an autobiography of Keith Richards, a biography of Kurt Cobain, the newest book by John Irving, and many books that I’d never heard of. I had to get out more.