The Immaculate Deception (26 page)

A knock on the door prompted me to say, “Come in.” Bad decision. Next time I’d rethink that stupid polite reflex. The door flew open. I groaned. “Do you wear that robe everywhere,
Judge
?”

“
Shut up, Oh-Donna. I received an emergency message to race to the hospital. I had to recess a murder trial. Apparently you aren’t quite at the grim reaper’s lair.”

“
Sorry to disappoint you, brother dear. Who called anyhow?”

“
An ER nurse. She said Dr. Goldfarb had brought you in and that I should get here now. So what crawled up your butt necessitating emergency surgery?”

“
What? Eww…stop being gross, Perry.”

Dr. Goldfarb hobbled into the exam room. I sat up. He and the judge exchanged pleasantries. My sister Tammy sashayed in.

I rolled my eyes and ran my fingers through my disheveled locks.

Dr. Goldfarb said, “Oh good, you made it.”

Tammy kissed him on the cheek. He patted her back.

Dr. Goldfarb said, “Donna, I’m afraid you’ve suffered some damage to the pons area of your brain.”

Perry demanded, “How?”

Dr. Goldfarb said, “When the buck hit her car.”

Perry said, “What?”

Dr. Goldfarb said, “Her car accident. What don’t you understand?”

Tammy said, “Oh-Donna, you never told me nothin’ ’bout a car accident.
You didn’t wreck Mom’s Corvette, did you
?”

Perry interrupted. “So that’s what you meant when you told me you needed a car, you’d totaled yours. Why the frick didn’t you go to the hospital after the accident?”

I said, “I was impaled on a buck’s antlers and thrown from my SUV. They MedEvac’ed me to Fairfax Hospital where I spent four days.”

Tammy said, “I think I might hurl…” She turned her back and walked to the window.

Perry said, “When did this happen?”

I said, “The Thursday that Daddy called me telling me that Momma was trying—” I stopped. I didn’t want to admit what he’d said in front of Dr. Goldfarb, he might not understand. They were pals. And I certainly didn’t want to say it to Perry and feed into his obsession that Momma was a murderess.

Perry said, “Well. Okay.”

Dr. Goldfarb said, “Donna collapsed at work today, fell into a deep sleep. I brought her in for testing.”

Tammy said, “Yeah…it all adds up now… I found her sleeping in the walk-in closet at Little Mount Vernon. Then she fell asleep again, I had to throw water at her.”

I said, “I did not fall asleep again. I fainted. When I saw the coffin.”

Tammy said, “Whatever. And your face was all cut up.”

Perry said, “I found her sleeping on the couch at Dad’s house. Couldn’t make enough noise to rouse her.”

Dr. Goldfarb said, “I’m going to place you under the care of Dr. Singh, the neurologist on call. She’ll admit you for testing. We need to monitor your circadian rhythm, REM and—”

I hopped down from the exam table. “No way. I’m fine and I’m leaving.”

Perry said, “Oh-Donna, you’ll do no such thing. You need help, listen to the man. Your employer pays your medical expenses anyhow, so you might as well do it. And you might be able to get some extra money since it was related to an auto accident. Virginia is a no-fault state.”

As I stormed down the corridor and waited for the elevator, I heard remnants of their conversation. “I knew it. She’s brain damaged. Well, we can’t have a retard as executrix of Daddy’s will. Perry, you get an injunction or whatever you call it and stop that. Now I’d say she needs a guardian to oversee her finances…”

~*~

I took a cab back to work. It was nearly seven p.m. before it deposited me at Daddy’s old gold Chrysler. It was the only vehicle left in the lot. I drove through a fast food restaurant on the way and picked up two regular roast beef sandwiches for dinner. I splurged carbohydrate wise and used two packs of sauce on each. But I didn’t eat the buns. I’d gotten good at eating bunless while driving.

I eased the car into the garage, closed the door and checked the mailbox. Empty. So I carried my dinner trash inside and threw it away in the kitchen. I checked the message machine. It wasn’t blinking. What, did I really expect a New York editor to call me and offer to buy
Hundred Dollar Bill
? Sure I did. It was a very fun read. What was wrong with all those agents and editors? Were they too scared to take a chance on a newbie?

I was feeling kind of woozy. So I slumped onto the kitchen floor. The golden oak hardwood slats felt interesting under my body. So I stretched out and pressed my hands over the grooves. The music commenced. Percussion and strings. An old-time rock-’n’-roll ballad. I hummed along. Yes. I recognized it now. The same song as when I fell asleep at work. Bobby Vinton’s “Take Good Care Of My Baby”. It had been one of Momma’s favorite songs. The pretty sap green sparkles propelled me backward this time. It was a pleasant flight, like a magic hardwood floor ride.

~♥~

And there he was.

I said, “Hey, you. Step on back into my dream.”

“
Are you sure you want me to?”

“
Of course. Why would you even say that?”

“
Because you’ve been actin’ funny lately.”

“
Funny?” Hey, this is supposed to be a good dream. Why must I argue with everyone today?

“
At the Fontainebleau. You wouldn’t go down to the beach with me.”

I huffed. “Is that what you’re off about? I’m sorry. I mean, good grief, did you even process anything that we observed in our last dream, at the hospital?”

“
Yep. Your father was a physician and he consulted with a patient before surgery.”

“
Not just your regular Janie Doe patient.”

“
Yeah, so it was America’s favorite sex kitten. She’s entitled to medical treatment.”

“
He conspired to do a Frankenstein operation with her ovaries!”

“
Well, it was consensual.” He put his hands on his cheeks and roughly rubbed them over his face and through his hair. He said, “I’m sorry. I just don’t know where I stand with you anymore. You intruded in on someone else’s dream.”

“
Hey, that wasn’t my fault. I can’t control which dreams I get sucked into. If I could, I would spend every hour sleeping. With you.” I caressed his hand and smiled as I traced lines from his wrist as far up his arms as his short white shirt sleeves allowed. His breathing deepened.

I asked, “You are my mate, right?”

He nodded.

“
Well, and then Bob’s your uncle and Fanny’s your aunt.”

He grinned. “That’s an English expression.”

“
And you are my dreamy English mate. So enough of this talk.”

He kissed me. Oh boy, did he kiss me. He whispered, “When you sigh…it makes me want you more.”

I trembled. A little ecstasy was just what the doctor should have ordered.

I heard an intercom. “Paging Dr. Payne. Dr. Nathan Payne to the fourth floor, stat.”

Dream boy offered his arm. “Hook a wing.”

I did. “To the fourth floor.”

We found the hospital stairs. It looked like it might have been the same one, what was it, Good Samaritan? From the previous dream. Darn, I was sick of hospitals.

We missed him. He had gone into surgery before we arrived. So we sat in the family waiting room. We kept an eye on the operating room door across the hall. When the patient was wheeled out, we followed her. It was Momma.

I paced invisibly in her room until Daddy arrived. Momma was groggy from the anesthesia. He said, “Well, I was able to save about one third of your left ovary and that fallopian tube. I had to remove the right set.”

Tears streamed down her face. “So much for me having a baby.”

“
Don’t give up hope. You might well still produce an occasional mature egg. But I cannot guarantee anything.”

I wanted to hug her and tell her, “It’s all right, Momma. You’ll have a baby. Me.” But she couldn’t see or hear me. I guess my mate was right. Seeing me would just be too upsetting for either of my parents. Would probably throw the whole space-time continuum, or however you called it. Darn it, there was that annoying song again. The “Donna” song.

~*~

I felt a draft and heard clunking. When I opened my eyes, there squatted Officer Dick Fiddler, he had one hand on top of my left leg, one under it and he palpated down to my ankle.

“
What are you doing?” I half-screamed.

“
Oh thank God. I was checking for broken bones. You were breathing and your pulse was good but I couldn’t wake you up.”

“
How’d you get in?” I glared.

He motioned to the French door, leaning inside the house.

“
You took the door off the hinges?” I scrambled up. “How dare you break into my house!” I remembered Mr. Jones telling me Dick was a killer.
Oh my God!

“
Calm down. I saw you slumped on the floor. I banged and banged on the glass and you didn’t move. I was worried you’d been—”

My dream mate had told me to relax, that he didn’t think Dick meant any harm. I exhaled. “I’m sorry, Dick. Thank you for rescuing me but as you can see, I’m fine.”

“
How can you be fine? Come on, you need to lie down.”

“
Stop, okay? I’m fine. I just have this small little narcolepsy problem.”

“
Really? I’m sorry.”

“
Do you think you can put my door back on the hinges before I pay to air-condition the neighborhood?”

He lined the pins up with the hinges and set the door back on. He closed and locked it.

I said, “I’m sorry I yelled at you. Thank you very much for coming to my aid again.”

“
No problem. Just the neighborly thing to do.”

“
Would you like a cup of,” I tried to think of some beverage I had on hand to offer him, “of water or something?”

“
Yes, that would be kind.”

I removed a clean silver-rimmed glass from the cabinet and dispensed crushed ice and cold water from the outside of my stainless steel refrigerator door. I made myself one as well.

“
Thank you,” Dick said.

I motioned for him to sit with me at the kitchen table. He did.

“
So what kind of trouble are you in?” I asked him.

Dick gulped a long pull of water. “I was kidnapped.”

“
Oh my goodness. I’m sorry. Wow. Must’ve been terrifying. How’d you escape? They got the guys? Did they pay ransom?”

“
I don’t know.”

“
Whaddaya mean, ya don’t know?”

He scratched behind his ear. “It’s complicated.”

I uneasily tasted a sip of water and then decided to pace around the kitchen. I listened to his version of what I already knew.

“
They must’ve drugged me with ecstasy or something.”

“
The date rape drug?” This was getting really uncomfortable.

“
Yeah. I don’t know. They might’ve used something else.”

“
Did the cops, your co-workers, find you?”

“
No.”

“
Well, you know they searched your house and interviewed the neighbors.”

Dick stood up and shoved his chair in. “No, I really don’t know about that.”

“
Where were you held?”

“
Miami.”

“
Miami? You were kidnapped and taken to Miami and you escaped and came home in your underwear?”

“
You see, that’s the thing. I really don’t know how I got to Miami or how I got home.”

The phone rang. I picked it up without looking at the caller ID It was my brother.

“
Oh-Donna. Glad you made it home. Listen, just forget about being the executrix. I’ll get the court to appoint someone else. We need somebody with all her faculties.”

“
Oh hello,
Perry
. So good of you to call. But it’s a bad time, I have company.” I hung up.

Dick said, “Well, I’m so sorry to have kept you. Thank you for the water.”

Before I could interrogate him any further, he left through the back door. I locked it tight. I didn’t want people barging into my home just like that. Especially people who seemed to dabble with poisonous plants. There must be some way I could brace the door or something so that didn’t happen again. Maybe I could just take it out of the frame and turn it around, so that the hinges were on the inside? That way no one could break in. I couldn’t believe the Fairfax County building inspector had let the contractor install doors like this.

I thought about what my mate had told me about Officer Dick. How did he fit into my life? There was some obvious connection, I was just too dumb to realize it yet.

~*~

Four more pages. If I could write four more pages every day, just off the top of my head, then I could finish my work-in-progress by the end of September. I hated writing the first draft. It was agony getting the voices out of my head and onto the paper. Unless of course, they started getting naughty and going off on their own little tangents. Then I was just the vessel through which the characters developed. That was a good day when that happened.