With Love from the Inside (15 page)

Sophie's head was in a fog when she woke up the next morning. Eva. Thomas. The party. Her mom. She didn't know which situation to try to process first.

“You believe me about Eva, don't you?” Thomas said as he came back into the bedroom from taking a shower.

“I don't know what to believe.” Sophie pulled the comforter over her shoulders and tucked it under her chin. “I know what I saw.” She wanted him to say more or at least repeat the explanation he'd given her last night: “I only want to be with you.”

Thomas threw his towel on the floor and sat beside her on the bed. “Look at me.”

When she didn't, he kneeled down in front of her. “I've never lied to you. What you saw at my office and heard at the party was all Eva. Eva being Eva. My mistake was asking her to help plan your party. I didn't realize she'd read more into it than that.”

Sophie started to pull away, but the more she looked into Thomas's eyes, the more she believed him. He hadn't lied to her before. That was her thing, not his.

She studied the shape of his mouth when he talked, the curves in his brow. She scrutinized every feature as she would if she were studying a suspected perpetrator in a series of police photos. All while looking for any discrepancy in his story, anything to indicate he'd been unfaithful.
“I'm trying to believe you're telling me the truth. I should've asked you about it weeks ago, after I saw her at your office the first time. I didn't want you to think I was insecure or suspicious.”

Thomas kissed her softly on the lips. “You are a little insecure and suspicious,” he replied, picking up his towel and tossing it at her. Sophie didn't catch it or laugh.

“Too soon?” Thomas said.

“Way too soon!”

Thomas pulled on his scrubs and then checked for messages on his cell phone and pager. Sophie watched his every move from their bed, gauging how empty her life would be if he wasn't in it.

He noticed her staring and sat down on the bed beside her. “When are you going to get it through that thick skull of yours,” Thomas said with a smile that made her feel good all over, “you're all that matters to me?”

—

S
OPHIE ARRIVED AT
S
TARBUCKS EARLY
to clear her head before she talked to Mindy. A breakfast, they'd both decided last night, was needed. Sophie wanted a closer friend, but she needed a confidant. While ordering her coffee she contemplated how much to let Mindy in.

“A low-fat Salted Caramel Macchiato, no whip,” she said to the barista behind the counter. Sophie wondered what this girl's story was.
Working her way through college like I did, or taking a gap year to figure herself out?
Sophie studied her as she put the lid on the paper cup. Her name badge had a yellow smiley face on it partly covering up the last of the letters in
S-T-A-C
. Was it with a
y
or an
ie
? Somebody had given the smiley face a mustache.

“Here you go,” the girl said, handing the warm drink to Sophie. Sophie decided she looked more like an
ie
.

She grabbed a table in the corner and pulled out her phone to check her
calendar. Something about being organized and in control helped calm her nerves. Doctor's appointment at ten. She'd almost forgotten. Too much to do. She thought about canceling it, then thought about Thomas (“I'm worried about you. It isn't normal.”). She decided she'd better go.

As she continued to idly scroll through her calendar, she realized she didn't have much time before the fund-raiser.
We're coming down to the wire,
she thought as she counted the days on her calendar. It was only eight and a half weeks away.

And the next day,
she realized, as she scrolled through the month of February,
is the day my mother will be executed.

—

“Y
OU OKAY
?” M
INDY SAID
. She pulled a chair from the table next to theirs and took a seat beside Sophie. “You look like you're deep in thought.”

“Oh, hi,” Sophie said as she tucked her phone into her purse and slid it off the middle of the table. She hadn't seen Mindy come in or order. “A little tired from last night.”

“That was quite a party.” Mindy picked up her coffee and took a sip. “Eva sure knows how to liven things up. I've never seen anyone so skilled at becoming the center of attention.”

“She certainly wants to be Thomas's center of attention.”

Mindy poofed out her lips, imitating Eva. “That may be true,” she said, puckering and panting, “but Thomas woves you.” Her lips returned to normal. “He planned your surprise party for weeks, making sure I'd be there, asking my opinion on your gift.”

Sophie held up the blue topaz ring occupying most of her right hand's ring finger.
Your
birthstone. And a symbol of love and fidelity.
Thomas's words as he gave the ring to her once they'd returned home from the party.

“Thomas does know how to buy a gift,” Sophie said as they both admired her ring.

“Thanks for meeting me here,” she said after a minute. “I'm glad we finally have some time to catch up. I really want to know how you're doing with Stephen being gone.”

“I'm not going to lie—this has been the hardest thing I've ever had to go through. It's devastating for the twins.” Mindy's face turned pale and Sophie thought she was about to cry. “Some days, I'm not sure I can make it.”

This question-and-answer felt foreign to her, but she forced herself to maintain eye contact. “Is there . . . is there any chance for you two?”

“I don't think he's coming back.” Mindy scratched at her empty ring finger. “Stephen hasn't been happy in a long time. Not happy with me, the way I look, the words I say. He says we've grown apart.”

“If it matters, I think Stephen has lost his mind.” Clearly something one friend says to another when she doesn't have a clue what's actually going on, but it was all she could come up with.

Mindy fiddled with a straw wrapper that had fallen underneath their table.

“I want to be there for you.” Sophie scooted her chair back, reached over, and put her hand on Mindy's arm. “I'm not very good at giving advice, but I am a good listener. I'd love to be a closer friend.”

Mindy put her hand on top of hers, closed her eyes, and nodded.

“Enough about me,” Mindy said, patting Sophie's hand in gratitude before reaching for her coffee. She crossed and then uncrossed her legs before asking, “What, besides Evil Eva, is going on with you? You looked quite upset the night I saw you at the hospital.” Mindy picked off a piece of her cranberry cookie.

All the tables around them were getting filled, making intimate conversation more difficult. A mother with her hair in a banana clip sat
in the last open seat closest to them and started feeding her toddler small pieces of her lemon scone. “More, Mamma, more!” Sophie tried to decide how much of herself she was going to reveal.

“I just had a bad day all around,” she said, choosing to test the waters with the less traumatic of her choices first. “I thought Thomas was cheating.”

“With whom?” Mindy tried to ask before completely swallowing her sip of coffee.

“You know with whom.” Sophie handed her a napkin to wipe away the liquid trailing down the side of her mouth. Mindy wiped and then laughed.

“Don't mean to make light of your concern, but I know for a fact that is not true. I've seen Thomas around her when she ‘happens to stop' at the hospital while he's doing rounds. Strictly business.”

“I believe that now—I think—but when he asked her to help plan my surprise, she took the invitation to mean more than talking to the orchestra about playing me the birthday song.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Thomas asked me to help him, too, although I'm afraid I wasn't much help. There were two meetings at his office: one I was late for, and the other I got called in to work.”

“The meeting he had at his office last week with her—when I came to the hospital crying?”

“Yes, that's the one. It sucks, keeping secrets from you.”

Sophie's heart instantly lightened. She'd done her best to believe Thomas, but nothing felt as good as having confirmation. “He's been so busy lately.” She moved her chair closer to the table because the noisy room made it difficult to hear. “Kind of distant.”

“I know he's been sick about that little girl's death. Questioning what he did or didn't do. He talked to me about it last night.” Mindy exhaled and put her fisted hands in her lap. “I have, too. I've lost a lot of sleep over
this one. The hospital bigwigs have summoned the charts. I think the family is going to sue.”

“Oh, no!” It was Thomas's nightmare.

“Not that I should be talking about any of this with you,” Mindy said, side-glancing to see if the banana-clip lady was listening. “The board has been meeting with each of us, asking us what we did, what happened, things along those lines.”

“What did you tell them?” Sophie wished she could take the question back the moment she saw Mindy's face. “I mean, do you think Thomas did anything wrong?”

“I don't know.” Mindy sucked in her cheeks, then blew out. She put the rest of her cookie back in its bag. “I don't.”

“The girl was being bullied. She wanted the surgery. Her parents insisted.”

Sophie didn't actually know how insistent her parents had been. Thomas had felt sorry for her, but they'd had to sign a consent for surgery, hadn't they?

“The autopsy showed the girl died of malignant hyperthermia.”

“What's that?”

“It's a severe reaction to anesthesia. Rare, but when it does happen it's usually in the OR, not post-op, like it was in this case.”

“Wouldn't the anesthesiologist be at fault, then?”

“Maybe, but Legal is asking questions to all of us. How long did you monitor the child in the OR? What was her pressure in recovery? Every person who cared for her will be questioned.”

“Thomas doesn't miss details like that,” Sophie said, feeling the need to defend her husband from something he may or may not have done from someone who wasn't the one accusing. “Does he?”

“I don't think anyone did anything wrong.” Mindy lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper. “The anesthesiologist, the surgical post-op
nurse; I even examined the patient. This reaction just presented in a way that no one could've expected.”

Sophie slid back in her chair while trying to process what Mindy was saying. “Maybe the nurse should've called Thomas earlier, or maybe he should've stayed at the hospital longer.” She stopped talking and picked up a napkin. She started rolling it between her index finger and thumb. “We can all second-guess ourselves to death.”

I didn't sleep well last night. Every time I'd doze off, I'd hear the warden say, “We need to get this one right.” Then I'd feel cold hands roll up my sleeves while examining my forearm. “This one here looks like the best vein.”

When the sun rose, I decided to get up. I hadn't looked at the papers they gave me, but I couldn't forget about them, either. The manila envelope bullied me—three feet away and perched to suffocate me at any moment.

I took a deep breath and turned on the lamp. The
Woman's Day
calendar recommended making shrimp-and-broccoli stir-fry for dinner tonight. If I closed my eyes, I could smell the shrimp sizzling in the hot wok as I threw them in. Paul loved stir-fry.

I picked up the November calendar and used my index finger to count back—it had been three weeks since I'd seen my attorney. I needed to call him when we got to use the phone this week to see if he could help with the forms. I picked up the envelope and poured out the contents.

Sophie's report cards used to come in a similar envelope.
Pleasure to have in class. All A's, honor roll.
Great class participation in English.
Paul and I treated her to a root beer float. William scrunched up his nose when Sophie swiped her finger through the whipped cream and into his mouth. “If you get good grades, you can have more of this,” she whispered in his tiny ear.

A year after my incarceration, Paul visited without her. He did that sometimes when we needed to talk. He held Sophie's report card up to the glass
.
Seems withdrawn. Poor participation. Missing work. Suggest counseling to deal with isolation and angry outburst.

“I'm doing the best I can,” Paul said, his skin blotchy around his eyes and mouth. “She won't talk to me. I'm losing her.” He stooped over and put his elbows on the ledge as he held the phone.

“She loves you, Paul.” I tried to encourage him, but I felt helpless. I closed my eyes for a second so I could feel his scruffy face against mine. “One second at a time. She'll come around.”

“I'll get her to talk,” he said, reassuring himself as well as me.

I knew my legal bills had wiped out our bank account. We couldn't afford to pay for a counselor for Sophie.

“Don't worry about us.” He rubbed his chest with the palm of his hand. He was heartbroken, and I think the rest of him was now broken, too.

I shook my head, willing away the painful memories
.
I couldn't think about the pain I'd caused them. I had to get this paperwork done. The thought of being reunited with William and Paul didn't make leaving Sophie more bearable.

I pulled out the five sheets of paper and laid them side by side on my bed.

The first was headlined
LAST MEAL REQUEST
.
Food allowance can not exceed $15.00 and must be purchased locally. Requests for alcohol will be denied.

The TV announcer's words played in my ears:
“Walter Mayberry chose to forgo his McDonald's options and instead ate what the rest of the inmate populations dined on . . . beef stew with diced potatoes and carrots, cornbread, and an eight-ounce glass of sweet tea.”

I slid that paper underneath the rest. I wasn't ready to hear what the reporter had to say about me just yet. I picked up the next sheet.

EXECUTION WITNESS LIST.

My mom, the only grandparent still living at the time of Sophie's birth, had traveled four hours to be in the delivery room. She kept asking the nurse questions as I started to push. “Is she in much pain? Can't you do anything about her pain?” Paul held my hand with one arm and steadied her back with the other as we witnessed the first of our two miracles.

I didn't expect another. If Sophie did show up, I'd never let her see me be put to death. I checked the box that said
No Request for Witnesses
and signed my name. My going-away party would be small, but my homecoming celebration would be grand. I wondered if William was still a baby in heaven or if he was now full-grown.

APPLICATION FOR EXE
CUTIVE CLEMENCY
.

I needed to talk to Ben about that one. Should I continue fighting? Only if it would buy Ben more time to find Sophie, I decided. That paper went to the back of the pile.

DISP
OSAL OF PROPERTY
and
DI
SPOSAL OF REMAINS
.

Name and address of family member designated to coordinate remains: ______________________ .

I'd always thought I'd be buried next to Paul and William. Didn't think I'd have to provide my own transportation there. Maybe Ben could arrange this?

LAST WILL & TESTAMENT
.

Ben had all of that on file. Everything went to Sophie. I'd make sure he knew to give a copy of my will to the warden.

This was all too much to think about when I'd gotten so little sleep. I stared at the papers again. The bold-print letters made my heart pound.
What sounds good to eat before the needle goes in? Who'd you invite to watch you die?
The cinder-block walls moved in closer.

I gathered all the papers together as quickly as I could and shoved them back in the envelope, pushing through and spreading the bronze clasp forcefully to shut up their words before they could taunt me further.

Deep breaths,
I reminded myself. An exercise Ms. Liz practiced with me when my anxiety got the best of me. “Count to ten,” she told me. “Now take yourself away from here.”

I did what I did when I couldn't stand this place any longer. I closed my eyes and pictured Paul kneeling in front of me. His wavy cinnamon-colored hair curled around his forehead and he smelled like cut grass. “I cannot take another breath without you.” He opened a red velvet box he'd hidden in the side pocket of his black trousers. I thought he might cry. “You are home to me. Please say you'll be my wife.”