Fox River. Emilie Richards

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СКАЧАТЬ had two choices—to perch on the couch’s edge like a child in the principal’s office or settle back and appear completely defenseless. She was sure the stage had been set that way. She settled.

      Dr. Jeffers sat forward, cupping his hands over his blotter, and nodded sagely. “So you don’t believe this is the right place for Mrs. Warwick?”

      Maisy glanced at her watch. It was an insubstantial rhinestone-and-pearl encrusted bauble, and she wore it with everything. Now she wished the hands would move faster.

      “This is my daughter we’re talking about. No one knows her better than I do, which is not the same as saying I know everything about her. But I do understand this. She’s a private person. Her strength comes from within. She will not want to share those strengths or any weaknesses with a stranger. You are a stranger.”

      “And she’ll want to share them with you?”

      “I do wish you’d stop putting words in my mouth.”

      “Correct me, then, but I’m under the impression you think you can help her and I can’t.”

      “Being with people who love her will help her. I know she’s desperate to see Callie—”

      “You can’t possibly know these things, Mrs. Fletcher. Perhaps you’re projecting? Your daughter’s spoken to no one except her husband since she arrived.”

      “I know she’s desperate to see Callie,” Maisy repeated a bit louder. “Are you listening or aren’t you? She’ll be frantic to see her little girl. If you think a frantic woman is a good candidate for therapy, then you need to go back to medical school.”

      “There is only one frantic woman in this clinic, and she’s sitting across from me,” he said with his pseudo-grandfatherly smile.

      With some difficulty Maisy hoisted herself to her feet, but before she could say anything the telephone on his desk rang. As he picked up the receiver, he held up a hand to stop her from leaving. When he’d finished, he glanced up and shrugged.

      “It seems you’re not the only frantic woman in this clinic, after all. Your daughter knows you’re here.”

      Maisy waited.

      He rose. “She’s demanding to see you. Her room is upstairs. Follow the corridor to the end, turn left, and you’ll see the staircase. At the top, make your first left, then a right. Her room is at the end of the hall. But just so you know, it’s my responsibility to notify Mr. Warwick that you’ve visited Mrs. Warwick against medical advice.”

      “Dr. Jeffers, are you a psychiatrist or a spy?”

      “Dear lady, you have some mental health issues you need work on yourself.”

      It was a testament to her mental health that she left without responding.

      

      Julia knew her mother had come. Maisy and Jake’s pickup had a bone-jarring rattle as audibly distinct as the belching of its exhaust system. For years Bard had tried to convince Jake to buy a new truck, but Julia’s stepfather always refused. He was a man who would do without comfort rather than spend money foolishly, not a stingy man, simply one who believed in taking care of what he owned.

      At the sound of the truck in the parking lot, Julia had found her way to the window to confirm her suspicion. She wasn’t sure what she expected, a sudden lifting of darkness, a sneak peek at a world she hadn’t seen in weeks. She felt the cool glass under her fingertips, traced the smooth-textured sill, the decorative grids. But she wasn’t allowed even the pleasure of an afternoon breeze. The window was locked tight.

      She had realized then that she had to ask for help. Practical help, not the kind she had supposedly checked herself in to receive. After the first day she had realized that the Gandy Willson Clinic was the wrong place for her and that her sessions with Dr. Jeffers would be nothing more than a battle of wits. She would hide her feelings, and he would subtly berate her for her lack of cooperation.

      Luckily there was at least one staff member who seemed genuinely interested in her. Karen, the nurse on duty, agreed to call Dr. Jeffers and relay Julia’s demand. If Maisy Fletcher had come to see her daughter, he was not to send her away. If he did, Julia would be the next to leave.

      When Maisy turned into the hallway, Julia knew her mother was coming by the bustling of her footsteps. Maisy was always in a hurry, as if she had somewhere important to go, although, in truth, destination was never a priority.

      “Julia?”

      “In here, Maisy.”

      The door swung open, a welcome whoosh of fresh air followed by a gentle bang.

      “Sweetheart.”

      Julia heard and smelled her mother’s approach, and in a moment felt Maisy’s soft hands against her cheeks. Then she was wrapped in the overpowering fragrance of violets and the soft give of her mother’s arms around her.

      Julia slipped her arms around her mother’s waist as Maisy joined her on the bed.

      “How did you know I was here?” Maisy said.

      “I heard the pickup. I guess it’s a good thing Jake hasn’t gotten a new one.”

      “That’s not what I was thinking on the way over. I almost left it by the side of the road. Darn thing has never liked me.”

      “That’s because you push it too hard.” It was the story of Maisy’s life.

      “How are you?”

      Julia straightened and folded her hands in her lap. For once Maisy seemed to take the hint and moved away a little to give her daughter breathing room. “No better, no worse,” Julia said.

      “Dr. Jeffers is an officious little bastard who probably couldn’t cure a hangnail.”

      “Don’t be so easy on him.”

      Usually at this point Julia would have gotten up to roam the room. Only now, that particular escape was fraught with danger. She had carefully memorized the layout, but she wasn’t sure she could navigate it with her mother watching. For a moment her heart beat faster and her breath seemed to come in short gasps. The world was a black hole sucking at her, threatening to pull her into its void forever.

      “What are you doing here, sweetheart?” Maisy asked.

      Julia willed herself to be calm. “One place is exactly like another when you can’t see.”

      “That simply isn’t true. You need to be with people who love you, in a place you know well. Not with strangers.”

      “Look around. It’s almost like home. I have my own fireplace, a room full of antiques—so I’m told. The view is undoubtedly priceless.”

      “The only priceless thing in this room is my daughter, and she doesn’t belong here.”

      Julia’s sightless eyes filled with tears. She rose. It was safer to risk butting up against the furniture than her mother’s love. “Bard thought it would be best for everyone.”

СКАЧАТЬ