Read The Missing Year Online

Authors: Belinda Frisch

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Medical, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Contemporary Fiction

The Missing Year (19 page)

BOOK: The Missing Year
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CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

 

“Go.” Ruth pointed her bony finger out the door.

Ross walked to the car with his head down, ashamed for being harsh with an elderly woman who had endured enough loss for several lifetimes. He hadn’t meant to go so far, but something about Ruth’s cruel demeanor and her attack on Lila had his hackles up. A dull headache settled in at his temples as he slid into the driver’s seat.

“That is one pissed off old lady.”

“Not now, Camille.” Ross didn’t feel up to the banter. He connected his phone via Bluetooth and searched for Mark’s cell phone number under Contacts.

“What happened in there?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Ross glanced at the radio, tilting his head until he read the time on the clock washed out by the sun.

It was almost one in the afternoon.

He hit Send and the phone rang through the car’s speakers.

A gruff male voice answered. “Hello?”

“Mark, it’s Ross. I need a favor.”

“If I had a nickel for every time I heard that. How did things go in Edinburgh?”

“I can’t talk about that now. I’m on speakerphone. Listen, I’ve got a bit of an emergency in Chicago. I’m on my way back to the center now. It’ll take me probably two and a half hours or so, but I don’t have a lot of time to waste. I need you to get Lila to my office for four o’clock. Can you do that?”

“What about lunch?” Camille said, pouting.

“Sorry, but it’s drive thru or nothing.”

“Dr. Reeves, you’re breaking up,” Mark said. “Did you ask me to go to the drive thru?”

“That wasn’t for you, Mark. Lila. Four o’clock. My office. Can you handle that?”

“Will do. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Ross hung up the phone. “We’re going to have to hurry,” he said to Camille. “If we hit traffic, I’m going to be late.”

“I hear you, but—” Camille crossed her legs, bouncing a bit in the seat.

“But what?”

“I
really
have to go to the bathroom.”

 

* * * * *

 

Ross made the drive in record time, despite several pee breaks and two convenience store runs. Camille observed the institution of travel snacks with a vengeance. Ross dropped her at her place and arrived at Lakeside in just under three hours.

The parking lot was unusually crowded. Two navy blue cars with government plates caught his attention.

“What is going on here?” Ross said.

Chelsea glanced at him as he entered the lobby.

Two suited men stood in front of her desk. One wouldn’t stop talking. The other chewed the end of his pen. It wasn’t difficult to guess who they were or why they were there. They could only be state workers come to investigate Joshua’s case.


Psst
. Dr. Reeves.”

Mark waved from behind a door on the other side of the room.

Ross hurried to meet him.

“What’s going on?” he said.

“The state visit we were worried about came early,” Mark said.

“I was afraid of that. How did we become a priority? These things usually take weeks.”

“Joshua’s family pushed. Who knew they were politically connected?”

“I need to talk to Lila, Mark.”

“What you need to do is lay low. They’re looking specifically for you.”

“Why? I didn’t shove the screwdriver in Joshua’s ear.”

“No, but you helped him afterward.”

“And?”

“Your credentialing file is incomplete. No license.”

“Guy brought me on in a hurry. That’s easy enough to clear up.”

“Without your license, a malpractice coverage certificate was never issued.”

That
, Ross knew, would take longer.

“So what’s the bottom line?”

“Technically,” Mark said, “you don’t work here. If you talk to the investigators, they’ll tell you you’re off Lila’s case, at least for now.”

“I can’t let that happen. I’m leaving for Chicago tomorrow. There isn’t time for this.” Ross leaned against the wall, considering his options. Sometimes curses were blessings in disguise.

“I’m afraid of that look, Dr. Reeves. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking there’s another way. What’s Lakeside’s policy on checking patients out for visitation? What would I need?”

“To leave a copy of your driver’s license and a signed contract stating you’ll take responsibility for the patient.”

“That’s it?”

“We’re a voluntary admission facility.”

“Then get me the paperwork.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea after what happened at the lake.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her, Mark. We’ll be back by lights out, before anyone realizes she’s missing. Trust me.”

“I want to, but there’s a catch.”

“What?”

“Lila has to
agree
to go with you.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

 

Mark distracted the men at the reception desk long enough for Ross to sneak up to Lila’s room. Lila sat at the cramped built-in, reading by the white glow of the desk lamp. Her tangled hair looked as if it hadn’t been brushed in days and she wore wrinkled pajamas. Her head whipped around when Ross shut the door behind him.

“Dr. Reeves, you’re back.”

“Listen to me, Lila. We don’t have a lot of time. I need you to get dressed.”

“Dressed, why? Where am I going?”

“I’m not sure, but we can’t stay here. We have to talk.”

“About?”

Mark ducked inside the room and pulled the shade.

“What’s going on?” Lila said.

Ross didn’t answer her. “Mark, did you get the paperwork?”

Mark handed him a stapled packet. “I need a copy of your driver’s license.”

Ross wrestled it out of his wallet and handed it to him.

“Where am I supposed to make a copy up here?”

Ross shrugged. “Take a picture with your phone. Email it to yourself and print it.”

“Is anyone going to tell me what’s happening?” Lila said.

“Lila, I need your signature.”

“On
what
? And why?”

“No time to explain.” Ross grabbed a pair of jeans and a sweater from inside one of the drawers. “Sign and get dressed.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Please, Lila, don’t make this more difficult.” Ross turned to Mark. “Where’s Guy?”

“In the conference room with one of the investigators.”

“I need you to get him for me.”

“You
want
him to know you’re here?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong. I need him to understand what’s happening and to let him know I’m leaving after this.”

“Where are you going?” Lila said. “You just got back.”

“Chicago.”

“Why?
When
?”

“I told you we don’t have time to talk about this right now. Mark, please get Guy out of that room and don’t let anyone know that I’m the one looking for him.”

Ross waited for Mark to leave, pleased he had pull off the distraction.

“Get dress, Lila. We have to hurry.”

“You were trying to get rid of him?”

“Yes, and it worked, but if he comes back and we’re still here, the deal is off.”

“What
deal
?” Lila ducked into the bathroom, leaving the door open enough to still talk to Ross while she changed.

“Will you please hurry? I’m trying to help you.”

“I don’t want help, Dr. Reeves. I want my life back.”

“What
life
? Where are you planning to go when Ruth stops paying?”

“She’s
not paying. I am,” Lila said, coming out of the bathroom. “Blake made sure I was well taken care of, not that it’s any of your business. When I leave here, I’ll go home.”

“Where you lived with Blake?” Ross called up the real estate listing bookmarked on his cell phone. “This home?” He showed Lila the screen, the picture as much of the For Sale sign as it was of the house behind it.

“What the hell?” Lila had no way of knowing her house was on the market.

“Did you sign anything when you were admitted?” Ross asked. “Did you maybe give Ruth power of attorney?”

“I don’t think so.” Lila shrugged. “I mean, I don’t know. Maybe?”

“She’s dismantling your life. We have to leave
now
if I’m going to help you out of this.” Ross signed the visitation form and handed Lila the paper and pen.

She signed and handed it back.

Ross scribbled a note to Mark that said, “Sorry. Be back soon.” and left the paperwork on Lila’s nightstand.

“Do you have a jacket?”

Lila nodded.

“Put it on and pull up the hood.” Ross looked both ways before heading into the hallway.

“Dr. Reeves?” Eddie came around the corner wheeling the dinner cart. “Dr. Reeves, wait.”

“What do we do?” Lila said.

“Keep going. Come on, this way.” Ross swiped his keycard, hurried down a flight of stairs, and slammed his palms into the bar of the emergency door that, thankfully, didn’t alarm. “My car’s this way.” Ross fumbled for the key fob and hit the unlock button twice. He had his hand on the passenger’s door handle when Guy came running out of the building, red-faced and out of breath.

“Ross, wait!”

“Lila, get in,” Ross said.

Lila’s hood had fallen off. Her black hair blew in the breeze.

“Ross, please,” Guy said.

Lila got in and fastened her seatbelt.

Ross rolled down the window as he pulled out of the driveway. “I’m sorry, Doc. The paperwork’s in Lila’s room. We’ll be back. Both of us, I promise.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

 

Ross took Lila to the Downtowner, the only safe place he could think of to talk. Round white bulbs illuminated the row of trees out front, reflecting off the metal diner. The parking lot brimmed with Cadillacs, Lincolns, and Buicks, and the room bustled with an elderly early bird crowd.

Fats Domino’s “Blueberry Hill” came from the jukebox.

“I like this song.” Lila swayed to the music while they waited to be seated.

“Can I help you?” A pretty waitress, maybe as young as late teens, with a high ponytail and a round belly greeted them. She wore the same vintage uniform as the older waitresses except for that she also wore a white pocketed apron that was stained, no doubt, where she couldn’t see.

“Two, please,” Ross said. “Someplace quiet if at all possible.” The latter seemed unlikely, but worth the shot.

The waitress took two menus from behind the counter and waved for Ross and Lila to follow her.

“This way.” She led them to a narrow galley between the kitchen and the dining room where only one of four booths was occupied. The couple of men sitting there haggled over tipping percentages, and after settling on an amount, left. “Is this all right?”

“Perfect,” Ross said.

Lila sat across from him. “When are you due?” she asked the waitress.

Ross remembered that Lila had wanted children, but had given up on having them to be with Blake.

The waitress smoothed her hand over her apron. “Three weeks, two days.”

“Your first?” Lila asked.

“Third time’s a charm.”

The waitress looked too young for a single child, let alone
three
, and either she didn’t wear a wedding ring or she didn’t have a husband.

“Wow,” Lila said.

“Wow is right. My mother and I are officially outnumbered.” The waitress’s gaze connected with one of the others, her mother, it seemed, who appeared to be checking up on her. The two exchanged strained smiles before the waitress produced a pen and small pad from her pocket. “My name’s Morgan, if you need anything. What can I get you to drink?”

Lila looked at Ross and then back at Morgan. “I’ll take a glass of Merlot, please.”

“Seltzer with a twist of lime for me.”

“I’ll be right back.” Morgan didn’t so much walk away as she did waddle. Her wide-legged stance and the low position of her belly had Ross wondering if someone hadn’t miscalculated a date somewhere along the line. 

“Merlot?” Ross said.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a glass of wine and dinner that didn’t come from a meal cart?”

“A year, give or take.”

“Then you know why I could use a drink.” Lila unfolded her napkin and placed it in her lap. “Mind telling me what happened back there? I feel like a fugitive.”

“You know I helped Joshua after that incident in the community room, right?”

Lila nodded. “I had heard.”

“Apparently my hire paperwork wasn’t thoroughly completed. I was brought on in a hurry and a couple of things got missed. The screwdriver thing has me on the state’s radar. I’m not in trouble,
per se
, but it is better if I don’t talk to them directly until things get cleared up.”

“Then this is my
fault. You were brought on so quickly because of me.”

“It’s nothing, Lila. Don’t worry about it. I have everything the investigators want, just not the time to pull it all together. I have to go to Chicago.”

“You said. Why? Are you coming back?”

“It’s personal and I’m not sure, which is why I need you to be absolutely honest with me if I’m going to help you. Everything has to be out in the open, and I mean
everything
. Deal?”

“Of course.” Lila said it as though she never lied to him.

“Why did you pretend not to know Jeremy Davis?”

“Who?”

“Jeremy. Davis.”

“I told you. I don’t know who that is.”

Ross slapped the table hard enough to make his utensils jump. “Damn it. You agreed to tell me the truth.”

Morgan had been heading toward them, but turned around.

Lila was stunned speechless.

“I can’t help you if you won’t work with me,” Ross said. “There are pictures of you and Blake with Jeremy all over the internet. Why are you protecting him?”

“I’m not protecting him. There are some things I can’t talk about.”

“Can’t, or won’t?”

“Either. Both.”

“You asked me back at Lakeside how I know about your house being for sale.”

“What does that have to do with Jeremy?”

“I knew you were lying about knowing him. I figured the only way to know for sure was to go to Edinburgh and prove it.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I knew if I didn’t confront you with facts, you’d never open up.”

“You don’t know the first thing about me,” Lila said through clenched teeth.

“I know you loved your husband too much to let him die for no reason. I also know Blake was dying, no matter what choice you made about his life support. You kept that from everyone, including Ruth. I spoke with Jeremy and Ruth, Lila. What neither of them would tell me is why you’re so willing to take the blame for something that was never going to end any other way.”

“You have some nerve.” Lila stood to leave.

Ross grabbed her wrist, hard enough to stop her, but gently enough that she could have easily pulled away if she wanted to. “Please, don’t make a scene.”

“I’ll do whatever the hell I want to.”

“You’re out on visitation, Lila. I’m responsible for you. I don’t want to have to explain to our very pregnant waitress or the police, who she’ll have no choice but to call, where you came from and why. Please sit down.” After a long pause, she did. “That drinking day you told me about, the one when you got hurt. Blake didn’t mean to push you, did he?” He waited for her to answer before continuing. “Huntington’s-induced cognitive impairment affects everything from recall, to concentration, to temper control. But you know that, don’t you? Blake didn’t mean to lash out. He couldn’t help himself. And he was as afraid of that as you were, wasn’t he?”

A tear rolled down Lila’s cheek as she nodded. “Jeremy told you Blake tested positive?”

“Jeremy confirmed it, but that wasn’t how I found out.”

“Blake made us promise not to say anything. He begged us not to tell.”

“There were other things happening, too, weren’t there? Things outside of your control?”

“Nothing
was outside our control.”

Ross knew that particular lie well. “I used to tell myself the same thing with Sarah. Each time a new symptom popped up, it was like we had dealt with so many up to that point, what was one more? We fooled ourselves into thinking we could handle anything, and we
could for a while, until
us
became
me
. When I had to handle things alone—feeding, care, medication, decisions—the pressure took its toll. Everything was on me, and even being a doctor, there are things you never want to have to do to your spouse. Sarah couldn’t talk at the end, but I could see the shame on her face as I changed her colostomy bag.”

“I was going to take care of Blake,” Lila said. “I’m not a doctor, but I had Jeremy if I needed him and I was going to nursing school. We could have handled him.”

“Wanting to do something and having to do it are two different things. I thought I had Sarah handled, too. By the time I realized I’d been lying to myself, I was committed to round-the-clock care, barely able to keep her alive. Terminal illness is brutal, Lila. If you don’t let anyone in, it’s the loneliest, most painful purgatory you can imagine. You become so engrossed in the day-to-day tasks that you are consumed by them. It’s all the life you know. When Sarah died, it was as if I had no reason to keep living. That feeling passed, eventually, as much as I think it’s ever going to. The question is, if you did everything you could for Blake, why do you feel so guilty?”

BOOK: The Missing Year
5.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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