She brightened, a flush of excitement replacing the concern of seconds earlier. “You mean I can stay home from school?”
“I do. We need your help, sweetie. Let the dogs out. Feed the horses and flush the water bucket, feed the cats in the barn and house, and throw some feed to the chickens. Can you do that for me?”
She rose to the challenge, so happy to get out of school, any amount of chores seemed light. “Of course, Dad. And I’ll practice my singing, too.”
I grabbed a backpack from the mudroom to stow the books, food, and some bottled water. No hospital food for us.
Mrs. Pierce thrust a box of cereal bars at me as I hurried past her. “Take this, too. You might be there a long time.”
I thanked her and stuffed them into the nylon bag with some apples and bottled water, then ran to the VW and jumped in.
“You got everything?” Camille said, unhitching the brake and shifting into first gear.
“All set. Let’s go.”
During the forty-minute drive, I filled Camille in on the details, and called Maddy to arrange for teaching assistants to take over my classes. With a start, I remembered Kip was still at Rochester Memorial. I hoped I’d get a chance to visit with him while we waited for Lily.
Camille gestured to the back seat. “I brought that new little CD player and those Bella CDs. I thought you might like to have something to listen to while we wait.”
A swell of affection surged through me. “Thank you, hon.”
She glanced my way before taking the hospital exit, and her radiant smile melted my insides. Her hair, freshly washed and brushed, hung in a loose ponytail on her shoulder. I reached over to run the back of my hand along her creamy cheeks. She nuzzled my hand for a second, then snapped her attention back to the traffic.
Emotions coursed through me, conflicting and confusing.
Gratitude for this splendid, strong woman overwhelmed me. I knew facing the hospital was just as hard for her as it was for me. She’d spent countless hours in the ER, recovering from beatings given by her ex-husband. And now, she avoided doctors and hospitals, just like I did.
Laced beneath my love for Camille, unpleasant memories tightened my stomach. Most of the thoughts had to do with Elsbeth, and many of them because of her suicide attempts. The psych ward loomed ahead, dreadful experiences intertwined with every floor tile and waiting room chair. I also faced feelings of sadness hitting me due to my father’s passing three years earlier. The cancer ward was another wing of the hospital I hoped never to visit again.
Camille pulled into the parking garage and found a spot near the elevators on the second floor. We collected our things and memorized the floor and parking space number. She linked arms with me and offered a brave smile. “Okay. Let’s go up.”
We headed inside.
***
The box of cereal bars stood half-empty on the table between Siegfried and Camille. I tossed my apple core in the trash and swigged the rest of my water. I’d finished my book an hour ago, and was feeling antsy. Lily had been processed, but it took four hours to get her through the initial examination and into the operating room.
“Multiple fractures,” was the first diagnosis. “We’ll deal with the depression after her leg is addressed,” the bearded doctor said. We’d seen so many doctors, nurses, and technicians, they blurred through my mind in a porridge of clipboards, stethoscopes, and scrubs.
The surgeon, I remembered. Tall and anemic-looking, the wide-shouldered Nordic blond looked like she needed a good meal. But her steady demeanor was reassuring, and her confidence contagious. She’d talked about titanium screws and plates, and a long recovery time.
Siegfried had been confused by the jargon, and I explained it to him. Now at four in the afternoon, I’d begun to wonder if she would ever get out of surgery. She’d been in there for hours.
I reached inside the backpack and pulled out the last apple. “Anybody want the last one?”
Siegfried reached over and took it. “Danke.” He mechanically chewed, looking into the distance with weary eyes.
“You’re welcome,” I said with a chuckle. Camille and I had eaten one each, and Sig chomped on his fourth.
She reached over to pat him when he let out another long sigh. “She’ll be out soon. I’m sure of it.”
We’d expected the Nordic surgeon, but were surprised when Rebecca Kwon entered instead.
“Hi, folks. How are you holding up?” She sat beside Siegfried and touched his hand.
Siegfried gave her a blank stare.
I jumped in. “We’re doing okay, but worried it’s taking so long. Any word?”
“Yes. That’s why I’m here. They just wheeled her into recovery.”
Siegfried shot to his feet. “She is okay?”
“Her leg will be fine. But we need to work on her emotional state, as I’m sure you know.”
Siegfried nodded, but looked unsure of himself. “I do not know why she jumped,” he said.
She stood and beckoned to us. “You can see her in a few hours. But for now, come with me. I have something to tell you. Before surgery, I spoke with Lily. She’s agreed it’s okay for me to share what Thom told me. She feels awful that you had to rescue her, and wants you to understand what drove her to it. She told me to tell you, Siegfried, that she loves you very much, but that she felt unworthy of your affection after learning about her history. And she wishes she would learn English faster, so she could discuss it with you.”
We stood as one. I gathered our things, zipped up the bag, and we followed Dr. Kwon to her office on the fifth floor. She’d arranged three chairs on the other side of her desk. The office, homey and neat, seemed unusually comfortable. We sat in padded armchairs between potted plants, listening to a countertop waterfall unit, surrounded by shaded lamps. Leather bound books lined the shelves and cotton curtains hung in the window.
She sat behind her desk and folded her hands. “So. I’m going to recount what Thom Kim told me before he died. I need to warn you—it’s not pretty.”
Camille spoke up this time. “We understand, Rebecca. But if it can help us help Lily, we need to know. Siegfried, most especially, needs to find out what’s troubling her so he can support her.”
“Of course,” she nodded. “So let me begin without further ado. First of all, Thom and Lily came to the States when she was twelve to escape.”
“Escape?” I said.
“Yes. From a most horrible situation.” She shifted in her seat, looked out the window, and continued. “When their father’s best friend died, certain papers were found. Papers that proved Mrs. Kim and this man had an affair—twelve years earlier.”
Camille drew a sharp breath. “So Lily was illegitimate?”
“Yes. Word spread fast in the village, and finally reached Lily’s father. He went insane, humiliated by his wife and horrified that the family name had been besmirched.”
I interrupted. “Did they have access to any DNA tests or whatever, to be sure about it?”
She shook her head. “No. They didn’t bother with that. Her father had been out of town on business for most of the year the affair took place, and he’d always wondered about Lily’s birth. The new information just clinched it.”
Siegfried sat and stared.
Dr. Kwon continued. “That wasn’t the worst of it. The evening of the discovery, Mr. Kim murdered his wife, and forced his son to help. Thom blocked her egress while Mr. Kim stabbed her, multiple times. Thom watched and tried to convince himself that it was just. The entire village knew about the murder. They condoned it. To tell you the truth, I’m surprised they didn’t stone her to death, after hearing about the ancient culture in which they lived. Adultery by a woman,” she frowned with disgust, “was considered grounds for death. Of course, it was expected when the men fooled around, and simply ignored.”
Camille sat back in her seat. “Thom saw his father murder his mother? And had to act as though it was okay?”
“Yes. And then the f
ather started to turn on Lily.”
Siegfried sucked in his breath.
“That’s when Thom stood up to him. The father tried to kill Lily, because she was the product of the affair. He called her a bastard, and went after her with the same knife that killed her mother. But Thom stopped him. Conflicted by rules he’d grown up with and his innermost conscience, which told him Lily was not to blame, he stopped the murder. But in doing so, he accidentally killed his father.”
“Oh my God,” Camille and I said in unison.
Siegfried’s mouth dropped open.
“Thom took the money from his father’s safe and fled with Lily to be with their aunt in the Bronx. They stayed with her until she died, about five years ago. Of course, their mother’s sister was most sympathetic to their cause.”
She paused for a moment and I recounted the story, as if to make myself believe it.
“Lily was illegitimate. Her father found out. He killed his wife with his son watching, turned on his daughter, and was subsequently killed by Thom.”
Dr. Kwon nodded. “That’s it. In a nutshell.”
“Wow,” I whispered. “But there’s one thing I don’t get.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
I leaned forward in my chair, exchanging glances with Camille. “Why did Thom beat Lily? The lacerations on her back were fresh. We’re pretty sure he abused her.”
She bit her lip and shifted in her seat. “He implied he’d hurt her, but I wasn’t sure what happened. Apparently he blamed her for being the cause of his father’s accidental death. Some sort of guilt transference, I guess. He thought of her as a lowly being—because of her illegitimacy—but couldn’t stand by and let his father kill her when it came down to it. But apparently for years and years afterwards, he drank. Excessively. And when he drank, his anger emerged. He took it out on her.”
Siegfried finally spoke, his voice thick with emotion. He bent his head into his hands. “My poor Lily.”
I patted Siegfried’s back. “It’s okay, buddy. She has you, now.” I looked at Dr. Kwon. “So, that explains it. But frankly, it’s unbelievable.”
“That’s the whole story. And now you can see why Lily feels so…desperate.”
Camille chimed in. “Of course we can. The poor woman probably feels responsible for the death of both parents. And maybe she feels worthless, because of her illegitimacy. My God. What a burden to bear, especially with no family or professionals to talk with.”
Dr. Kwon stood up. “If you’d like to sit here for a while to talk, it’s okay. I’m due on the floor in five minutes.”
Siegfried stood. “Nein, danke. We will go back. I want to be there when they call me.”
We thanked her and followed her out of the office back to the waiting area, preparing to wait more. But this time, we had a nightmarish story to whir in our brains. I offered another cereal bar to Siegfried, who accepted it, but let it lay listlessly in his hand. He’d need some time to process this disturbing news.
I dug through the bag for the CD player.
“Honey?” Camille asked. “Why don’t you use this time to visit Kip? We know she’s okay, and it’ll be a few hours until we can visit her.”
I looked at her uncertainly. “You sure? You two will be okay here?”
“Of course. Go see Kip.”
I kissed her cheek, squeezed her hand, and stood. “Okay. I won’t be long.”
Chapter Thirty-two
The drawn shades in Kip’s room cast a gray-blue hue on the white sheets and linoleum. He lay tucked into the bed, both hands resting at his sides. The neighboring bed lay empty, stripped of sheets.
I went inside and pulled up a chair by the windows.
Kip looked smaller, now. Frail.
I swallowed hard and tried to control the surprising emotion that hit me.
Why am I so attached to him?
I missed my own father dreadfully. Is that why I’d grown so fond of this man who could have been my father? His love of music made it perfect, and his general outlook on life matched mine.
I sighed and watched him. The machines on his left monitored his heartbeat.
After a few minutes, a nurse padded into the room, her uniform swishing lightly as she rustled by the machine and pumped up the blood pressure cuff. She acknowledged me with a slight nod.
“How’s he doing?” I asked.
She wrote something in the chart and hesitated. “Are you family?”
“Yes,” I lied. I knew Kip or Curtis wouldn’t mind.
“His fever is down and his vitals are normal. Whatever this thing was, it wasn’t a typical flu. It came and went too fast. We’re still looking into a reaction to his med change.”
I nodded. “That’s what I thought. It happened to Kip and most of the patients in the home the day after they switched meds.”
“Uh huh.” She’d stopped listening and wrote some more on the chart. Kip stirred and mumbled.
“It’s good to talk with him, even though he’s regressed. If he wakes, try to hold a conversation. And don’t be disappointed if Mr. Sterling doesn’t know you.” She flashed an empathetic glance my way.
“Thanks,” I said.
Kip’s eyes fluttered and he looked around the room as if surprised. “It’s so dark in here,” he said, sitting up to reach for his water.
The nurse handed him the pitcher and turned the straw toward him. “Here you go, Kip. Look. You have a visitor.”
I walked to the windows and opened the shades. “Is that better?” I asked.
He shot me an interested glance. “Yes. It’s too nice a day to keep the sun out.”
I smiled and sat on the chair. “Sure is. How are you feeling?”
“Are you a doctor? Dressed rather informally, aren’t we?”
I laughed. He’d said something similar to me the first time I met him. I remembered the comment about my church attire. “No, I’m not a doctor. I’m a musician. Name’s Gus.”
He held out a dry hand. I shook it gently, but his expression changed. Eyes wider, lips compressed, his eyes searched mine. “You’re a musician? Do you know her? Have you seen her?” His voice rose in pitch with the last few words.
I looked straight into his eyes. “Yes. I know Bella. She’s coming to visit you Monday. Just a few more days, Kip.”
He relaxed and a sense of calm washed over his face. “You know my Bella?”
I leaned back in the chair and unbuttoned my shirt cuffs, rolling up my sleeves to get more comfortable. The hot room felt stuffy, in spite of the whirring air conditioning unit in the wall. “I do. Matter of fact, I have something for you to listen to, right here.” I rummaged in the bag and pulled out the CD player. “Here it is. Three CDs by Arabella Dubois. You just put these little things in your ears, and then push play. Right here. See?”
I handed him the headset and player. He looked at them as if he’d never seen such a contraption, but followed my directions. “Like this?” he asked.
I nodded. “Uh huh. Now, let me turn down the volume before I hit play, just in case. Don’t want to startle you.”
“Huh? What’s that you said?”
I pushed play. He looked puzzled, so I turned up the volume very slowly, until he nodded and held up one hand.
“That’s good,” he practically shouted. His face transformed. Wonder turned his features soft and he flashed a brilliant smile. “It’s my Bella,” he yelled, pointing to the player.
“I know.” I mouthed the words.
He tapped his fingers to the beat. His feet moved, too, to the slow, saucy music that captured him years ago. “I remember this one,” he said, pulling one earphone out to talk to me. He popped it back in and laid back against his pillows.
“I’m glad.” Somehow, this simple act of connecting with my friend made me ridiculously happy. He may not remember me, but right now, it didn’t matter, because without wasting a second, he’d remembered Bella, nor was he surprised when I’d called him Kip.
For
the first time all day, I relaxed. Kip closed his eyes and listened to Bella with a languid smile of delight.
***
I returned to the waiting room to find Camille and Siegfried parting with the surgeon. The lanky blond doctor tucked a clipboard under her arm and nodded to me, pushing through swinging doors leading back to the operating rooms.
“She’s awake. They put her in room 220,” Camille said, gathering her things.
Siegfried’s drawn face flooded with relief. “I can see her now?” he said, as if to confirm the idea in his own mind.
Camille led the way to the elevators. “You sure can, sweetie.”
A nervous smile strayed over his lips. “Can I stay with her?” he asked. “I don’t want her to be alone.”
We reached the elevators and I jabbed the up button. The lights overhead showed it descending slowly from the fourth floor. “I’ll find out, buddy.”
He flashed a grateful look. “Danke, Professor. And how is Mr. Kip?”
“Kip is out of danger. His fever’s down, and he looks good. And at least they’re calling him by his real name, Kip Sterling. No more of this John Smith stuff.” The elevator arrived and the doors creaked open slowly. “He didn’t remember me, though.”
Camille and Siegfried entered the elevator. I held the door open and followed them inside. She pushed the button for the second floor.
“He didn’t remember you?” she asked, eyes flooded with sympathy.
“No. But I connected with him, just the same. We talked about Bella and I gave him the CD player with her music. He was listening to them all.”
“Did he forget everything again? His name? His history?” she asked.
I nodded. “I think so. But he wasn’t too surprised when I called him Kip, so I don’t think the memories are as far flung as they were when I first met him. There must be a tenuous connection there.”
Lady Blues Page 18
