“When he wanted to, he could be so terrific, making me feel I was the only person in the world who was saving him.”
“In some ways you were.”
“What charm, Mom, and it’s real. That’s why he’s so popular on his soap. But it isn’t all there is.”
“Does that surprise you?”
“No, of course not. I remember when he first came back his nose always ran.”
“He got his feet wet and caught a cold, and, yes, his nose ran, and he had a funny little cough.”
“Mom, don’t brood on it. What’s been done has been done. We have to live with it and let it go.”
‘We need to find a pediatrician,’ Camilla said to Mac, holding a tissue to Taxi’s nose and helping him blow.
‘How?’ Mac asked vaguely. ‘Frankie had all her shots and everything in Corinth and Jacksonville.’
Mac was retreating. Not physically. Not running away. But retreating inside himself, which was almost as painful as literal absence. Camilla asked her neighbor across the hall about a recommendation for a pediatrician.
‘Dr. Wickoff’ was the immediate reply. ‘My kids adore her. But don’t you have a doctor for Frankie?’
‘Frankie’s wonderfully healthy. Since we’ve been at the seminary she’s had her shots and checkups in Jacksonville, where Mac’s parents live. It’s so much simpler there. Here in New York she hasn’t had anything worse than a cold, so we’ve never needed to look for a doctor.’
‘You’ll like Dr. Wickoff. She’s calm and reassuring, and I can see that that little boy needs a lot of reassurance. You’re very brave to take him on.’
The seminary was as close a community as Corinth had been. Camilla wondered how much her neighbor knew of Taxi’s history, and how much of what she knew was garbled gossip. ‘He’s our son,’ she said.
‘Would you like me to make an appointment for you? I have to call the office about Jesse’s allergies anyhow.’
‘Thanks. That would be very kind.’
‘Would you like an appointment for your little girl, too? It’s just as well for her to have a pediatrician here in the city.’
‘Thanks. Thanks very much.’
Camilla tried to talk to Mac about taking the children to the doctor, but his eyes barely fócused. ‘I have to grade exams,’ he said. ‘You take care of it, Cam.’
At least he was still at home. At least he still turned to her with passion, both tender and strong in his lovemaking. That affirmation was all that kept her anxiety under control.
Her neighbor made appointments for the children, and Camilla took them uptown on the bus. She was glad that Frankie was included; it would be easier for Taxi if Frankie was along.
When they came to the office door Camilla stopped in shock. There were three names on brass plaques.
JAMES ANSLEY WICKOFF, M.D.
ELIZABETH WICKOFF, M.D.
ANDREW GRANGE, M.D.
How could she have forgotten that Andrew’s wife was Wickoff, and that they were both pediatricians? The names on the door exploded at her. She had been so wrapped up in hurt over Mac’s withdrawal, apprehension about Taxi, about Frankie, that she had not been thinking coherently. She wanted to turn tail and run, but the door opened and a woman came out carrying a baby, and a nurse in a white uniform saw Camilla and the children and beckoned them in. What would it do to Taxi and Frankie if she fled? Taxi needed a doctor.
She looked at him. He could read. He read aloud every sign they passed on the street, showing off. He must have seen the names on the door. They seemed to have made no impression on him, one way or the other. Grange and Harriet had kept him abroad, and he had had little or no contact with Noelle or Andrew, who were a threat to Harriet. And now Red Grange and Harriet were dead. Andrew and his wife had no part in the damage they had done.
Camilla looked at Taxi, who was clutching Frankie’s hand. He was nervous enough. She did not want to add to it further by what would seem irrational behavior. The nurse gave her forms to fill out for each child, and led the children to a large box of toys and a bookcase filled with books and games. Taxi started to put a puzzle together, and Frankie was absorbed in one of the picture books.
When the nurse called Camilla, she said, ‘Let me go in alone for a moment, please.’
Dr. Wickoff’s office was large and pleasant, with bright walls and flowered curtains, and stuffed animals in several chairs, the kind of office designed to set a frightened child at ease.
‘Dr. Wickoff,’ Camilla said, ‘I ought to have recognized your name when you were recommended to me, but I didn’t—’
Dr. Wickoff picked up the chart the nurse had placed on her desk. She sat back comfortably, her white coat open over a plaid skirt and red turtleneck. Her hair was brown and curly, and her brown eyes were smiling and inquisitive. For a moment her fingers tightened on the chart. ‘Mrs. Xanthakos! Oh!’
The two women looked at each other.
‘I didn’t want to upset Taxi by rushing away, but if you think it’s inappropriate for him—’
‘No,’ Dr. Wickoff said. ‘If it’s all right with you, I’d like to see him, and then we can make a decision.’
‘Okay. Good.’
‘Poor tyke, he’s been through more than any kid should have to endure. Perhaps the fact that I know what has happened to him will help me to treat him in the most effective way possible.’
‘Yes,’ Camilla agreed. ‘And I want the best for him.’
Dr. Wickoff spoke into the intercom. ‘Bring the Xanthakos children in, please.’
She was easy with them, showing them the stuffed animals. ‘See that giraffe, with no fur on its neck? That was mine when I was a little girl. And that elephant, with its trunk stitched up? That was my very favorite, and my brother tried to tease me by skating on it.’ As she chatted, Taxi visibly relaxed. ‘Now, Frankie,’ Dr. Wickoff said, ‘will you help me unbutton your blouse so I can listen to your heartbeat? You can listen, too, Taxi, it’s fascinating.’ Whatever had to be done, she did to Frankie first, and Taxi did not even murmur as she drew blood from one of his fingers.
There was no question that she was a good doctor and that Taxi liked her. When she was through with her examination of the children she asked the nurse to take them back to the waiting room, then turned to Camilla, her face tight and strained.
‘Was that a cigarette burn on Taxi’s back?’
Camilla nodded. ‘Accidental, I think.’
Dr. Wickoff sighed. ‘He’s underweight. Do you have a good psychiatrist for him?’
‘Luisa Rowan has recommended a Dr. Hayes.’
‘Yes, he’s good. If it’s all right with you, I think I can help Taxi and that feisty little girl of yours.’
‘Thank you,’ Camilla said. ‘Taxi trusts you, and his sense of trust has been pretty well battered.’
As Camilla was leaving with Taxi and Frankie, she saw Andrew come out of a door at the back of the waiting room, tall, slightly stooped, as though from bending down to his small patients. His red hair was muted by streaks of silver. His white coat flapped about his legs. He squatted down before a little girl, who pressed her face against his chest.
This was not the time to speak to him.
That night, after the children were in bed, Camilla called Luisa and told her what had happened. ‘Was I nuts to walk into that office once I saw Andrew’s name on the door?’
‘Both children were with you?’
‘Yes.’
‘What would be the least upsetting for them?’
‘To act naturally. If I’d fled—’
‘Yes?’
‘They’d have known I was fleeing, but they wouldn’t have known from what. And Taxi needed to see a doctor. Dr. Wickoff’s the pediatrician everybody at the seminary uses. I didn’t know anybody else. I called you a couple of days ago, but you were at some conference in Philadelphia—’
‘Who are you trying to convince, Camilla? Me? Or you?’
‘Not you. What I want to know is if I should lo
ok for somebody else now. Taxi really liked Dr. Wickoff, and he doesn’t trust easily.’
‘What does Mac say?’
‘What?’
‘What did Mac have to say?’
Of course it would have been the normal thing for her to have talked with Mac. But Mac had come home to take a shower and change his clothes, and told her he had a meeting with the dean. He took only a cursory look at Frankie’s new painting, and didn’t even see the hurt on his child’s face. ‘He had a meeting tonight. We haven’t had a chance to talk.’
Luisa swore. ‘He’s walked out again, hasn’t he?’
‘No, Lu, he’s here, he’s just gone to a meeting.’
‘He’s walked out on you psychologically.’
‘At least he’s here. He’ll come back when he’s got it all absorbed. He always does.’
‘Have you got it absorbed?’
‘No, of course not. I’m taking it day by day, minute by minute. What I wanted to ask you about was Dr. Wickoff. I liked her. She gave me suggestions for a diet to help Taxi’s allergies, and a couple of prescriptions. I thought she had an intuitive understanding of him. Of both of them. When she had to do anything that might be at all scary, she went to Frankie first, so Taxi would be less frightened.’
‘Did it frighten Frankie?’
‘No. Dr. Wickoff was completely reassuring.’
‘She has a fine reputation, Camilla. She is, as far as I can see, not the problem. Did Taxi see Andrew?’
‘He was in the waiting room when we left. I don’t think Taxi knows him at all. I mean, Grange and Harriet had Taxi in Europe all the time, I don’t think he’s even met Noelle or Andrew. I’m not sure he even knows they exist.’
‘What about you?’
‘I certainly don’t blame either Andrew or Noelle for their father. You know they did everything they could to help us—’
‘Red Grange’s kids are better than he deserved.’
‘About Dr. Wickoff—’
‘I think what you want me to say is what I’m going to say. Stick with Elizabeth Wickoff. If she’s established a good rapport with Taxi, that’s enough to keep you from looking for anybody else. And the fact that she knows Taxi’s story will help her in understanding his problems. Your kids won’t see much of Andrew when they go to the office, if they see him at all. He has a full patient load of his own, and he’s a tactful guy and won’t want to give you any more pain.’
‘Thanks, Lu. I feel better.’
‘Just don’t expect Liz Wickoff to do miracles. You have a wounded little boy and it’s going to be hard.’
Raffi said, “I’m glad Dad had Liz and Andrew as his doctors.”
“Mostly Dr. Liz,” Camilla said. “He’d have seen Andy only if Liz was away.”
“I adore Dr. Andy,” Raffi said.
Camilla looked at her in surprise. “I thought Dr. Liz was your doctor.”
“Oh, she was, and like I said, I was a healthy kid and didn’t see much of her other than to get my shots. But one day when I was maybe nine I was skating in the park and I fell and broke my wrist. Mom took me right to the office. I mean, she knew I’d broken it, the bone was actually sticking out, it was horrible.”
Camilla shuddered. “I remember.”
“Mom was wonderful, promising me it was going to be all right, and not all falling to pieces herself, which some mothers might have done.”
“Yes, your mother’s a wonder.”
“It was my right wrist, and of course I’m righthanded.”
“You learned to write with your left hand.”
“I still can, when I want to. Anyhow, Dr. Liz was away, and Dr. Andy was there and he took care of me. He was so gentle, so calm, he even got me laughing. I was scared, really scared, to see my actual bone. And he was so matter-of-fact, and his hands seemed to take away the pain. I remember burrowing my face in his white coat, and having him put his arms around me, and at the same time he was so quick. And Mom, despite her calm—I think she was as scared as I was—and he was wonderful with her, too, making her know everything was going to be all right. I suppose he makes everybody feel special, one of my friends had a terrific crush on him, but he really did make me feel special. As though he really cared.”
Camilla replied slowly. “I think that’s part of his job, what makes him such a good doctor.”
“Yeah, but it seemed to me more than that. He went to the hospital with us, and stayed with me.” She held up her wrist. “See? There’s still a tiny scar. I suppose Dr. Liz would have been just as good, but it happened to be Dr. Andy. And then when I went home what I remember is being read to. Dad read to me from a book of funny poems and there was something about an elephant who tried to use a telephant. Anyhow, he had me laughing my head off. And later, when I couldn’t sleep, you read to me, one of Aunt Frankie’s books, and then Jack and Jill, and a sledding accident, and Jill was really hurt, and it made me feel better and I went to sleep. So it really isn’t a bad memory. It’s more good than bad.”
“I’m glad. I’ll certainly never forget it.”
“And Aunt Frankie called me from Seattle, just me, personally. I wish she didn’t live all the way across the country in Seattle.”
“So do I.” Camilla’s mouth tightened briefly. As she had lost Rafferty as a father when Taxi came, so, in a sense, had she lost Frankie. Frankie, who had had the wisdom to get out of the way. Not to run away. Not to walk out. Just to get out of the way so that she could have her own life.
Raffi was sprawled out on one of the sofas in front of the fire, which she had built up. “Last week, after your award bash, which was so terrific, Dad laughed at some of Aunt Frankie’s marvelous kids’ books.”
“Lots of people think kids’ books don’t count, and Taxi seems to be in a putting-down mode right now.”
“Did you do psychiatrists for my dad and all that stuff?”
“Yes, Luisa was very helpful, recommending good doctors. But a psychic wound isn’t like an inflamed appendix. You can’t open the body and cut it out.”
“Surgery on the soul. Why didn’t you send him to Dr. Rowan?”
“She’s much too close, Raffi, like a member of the family.”
“Yeah, I had to talk her into it. Seeing me.” She looked warily at her grandmother. “Do you mind?”
“Anything but. I’m delighted. Has she helped?”
“Has helped. Is helping. I guess she’s pretty important, isn’t she? She keeps being called away on consultations and meetings and stuff.”
“Lu’s a good doctor.”
“Grandmother, does my mom know all this, what you’ve told me about Taxi being taken away from you for three years and all?”
“Yes. She knows. Your mom and I’ve talked a good deal. Thessaly’s a very compassionate person.”
“Maybe that says something about why she hasn’t left my dad, long ago. But why didn’t they tell me?”
“Your father was very deeply hurt. He made it clear he didn’t want to talk about it. I think that was probably a mistake. Your Aunt Frankie thinks it was. I don’t know, Raffi. We do wrong, with all the best will in the world. And sometimes we do right without even knowing it.”
“How much do you think my mom can take?”
“We don’t know anybody’s breaking point. But I don’t think she’s going to leave. She loves your father.”
Raffi rolled onto her back. “So do I. I wish all this made me feel better.”
“Give it time, Raffi.”
When Raffi had gone Camilla called Frankie. Frankie was secure enough now so that Camilla felt freer with her than she had when Frankie had first married and moved to Seattle.
“I’ve been talking with Raffi again. Telling her.”
“Good. You know how I’ve felt about all this secrecy.”
“I know. It’s so complex. Red and Harriet tried to change his name. They called him Tommy. Tommy Grange. He had forgotten he was Taxi.”
“I’d forgotten that.”
“You were only a child.”
“I remember it now. I wonder why I blanked it out?”
“When he referred to himself as Tommy you shouted, ‘Taxi! Taxi! You’re my Taxi!’ And that was that. More or less. His doctor advised us to call him Taxi, that it would help bring him back into the family.”
“Did it, Mom?”
“When Taxi was taken away it was like—it was like an amputation. Something of the original Taxi was amputated.”
“So,” Frankie asked, “we had to settle for a prosthesis?”
“Yes.”
“I remember you took us to the beach, with Aunt Luisa, and later just us.”
“For spring vacation. Yes.”
“Dad wasn’t with us. Where was he?”
Away. He had been asked to give a series of talks in California, and he went.
‘I hate to leave,’ he said, ‘but these talks are important enough to be published. I’ve had only a couple of articles accepted recently, and you know all the publish-or-perish stuff. I’ll be gone only a couple of weeks. You can manage for that long, can’t you? Things seem pretty stable.’
‘Sure.’ Everything Mac said was reasonable, comprehensible. But she didn’t want him to go.
The seminary community was as curious and gossipy as a small parish in Georgia. People stared at Taxi. Whispered. Stole covert looks whenever Camilla appeared with the children.
Art was retired, and he and Olivia were living at the beach. While Mac was away the children were better off in Florida with their grandparents than at the seminary.
‘It’s all right.’ Camilla sat with Olivia and Art on the veranda, resting her eyes on the ocean. The children were asleep upstairs, in beds that were familiar, in a room that was their own, in a beach house they loved. ‘We all have a breaking point, and when Mac leaves, it’s not forever. He always comes back.’
‘Not everyone would be as forgiving as you are,’ Olivia said.
Camilla mouthed back everything Mac had said to her. Then, ‘Oh, Mama.’ A slow shiver moved through her body. ‘I get angry. I feel betrayed. If you and Papa weren’t always here to put my pieces back together, I don’t know what I’d do.’
‘And yet’—Art rubbed his hands slowly across his face—‘it was I who caused Mac’s breaking point. For an eight-year-old to walk into church and see his father and—’
A Live Coal in the Sea Page 25
