Just Once

by Lori Handeland

  ‘And that’s all we have time for today, folks.’ Charley grabbed her by the elbow.

  Heath grabbed her by the other and the two of them plowed straight for the door of the office building.

  The loud mouth with the big chin put his hand on Charley’s chest and shoved.

  Charley released her. ‘Go!’

  Hannah would have stayed, but she didn’t like the way some of the demonstrators were staring at Heath. She allowed him to think he was pulling her inside.

  ‘You have every right to your opinion,’ Charley said. ‘And to protest. But you have no right to impede the path of a patient to their doctor.’

  ‘She ripped my sign,’ the elderly guy whined.

  ‘I’m sure you have another. Excuse me.’

  Hannah and Heath reached the door. Hannah opened it and urged Heath through.

  Charley held his finger on the motor drive button of his camera, fanning the lens back and forth along the line of protestors, like Al Pacino in Scarface.

  Say hello to my little friend.

  ‘You can’t just take pictures of us like that,’ Big Chin said.

  ‘Actually, I can.’ Charley took advantage of their shock to walk toward the building. ‘Public demonstration is fair game. Don’t even need a release to use these all over the place. But you wanted publicity, right?’

  Several of them nodded.

  Hannah didn’t think they wanted the kind of publicity she hoped they got, but at least they weren’t chasing after them like a pike-carrying mob.

  Charley ducked inside and Hannah let the door close.

  ‘You get people to back off quicker with your camera than most could with a gun.’ Heath pushed the up arrow on the elevator call buttons.

  ‘Why mess with success?’

  The elevator opened and they stepped inside.

  Heath hugged her. ‘You were amazing. I never … I can’t believe …’

  ‘That I had it in me?’ Hannah was kind of surprised herself.

  ‘You could have gotten hurt,’ Charley said. ‘What if that guy popped you in the mouth when you tore up his sign?’

  ‘Then he popped me in the mouth. I couldn’t take it any more.’

  ‘There’s going to be a lot more to take, Hannah.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Losing your temper isn’t going to help. People like that won’t change.’

  ‘I know,’ she repeated.

  But it had felt so good not to sit there and take it for once that she couldn’t be sorry. She wasn’t sorry. She was so jazzed she was having a hard time keeping herself from bouncing up and down.

  The three of them stood in the elevator and watched the floors light up on the monitor.

  Two. Three. Four.

  ‘Wasn’t she the most spectacular thing you’ve ever seen?’ Heath asked.

  ‘Pretty close.’

  In Charley’s eyes she thought she saw admiration, respect, maybe even affection, though that was probably going a bit too far. What she was certain of was that today he was not only looking at her but seeing her too.

  Hannah lost her bouncy feeling pretty quickly once they got into the doctor’s office.

  ‘Your white cell count is elevated, Heath.’

  Heath’s doctor, Thomas Beattritt, an infectious disease specialist whose father was one of their father’s best clients, had agreed to take Heath on as a patient even though his practice was full.

  And wasn’t that just a kick in the head? The AIDS doctor’s practice was full, and Beattritt’s wasn’t the only one.

  ‘What does an elevated white cell count mean?’ Hannah asked as Charley took pictures as unobtrusively as he could in a ten-by-twelve feet exam room the shade of jaundice.

  Beattritt, an unassuming little man with an iffy toupee, paged through his notes.

  ‘It could mean Heath’s fighting off an infection.’

  ‘That’s good, isn’t it? Fighting things off?’

  ‘It would be better if he didn’t have an infection to fight. Have you been taking the AZT?’

  ‘Yes, though it gives me a headache, a backache too.’

  Heath also had to take the drug every four hours – day and night – which contributed to his fatigue, another side effect of AZT.

  Dr Beattritt nodded. ‘It can do that. Aspirin help?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I’ll give you something a little stronger.’

  ‘Got anything a little stronger for the AIDS?’ Hannah asked.

  ‘Hannah, please.’ Heath sounded so tired he scared her.

  ‘As a matter of fact,’ Beattritt said, ‘the FDA is considering approving DDI for use in AIDS patients.’

  ‘I heard they hadn’t done enough trials yet.’

  Beattritt glanced over his shoulder at Charley as if he’d forgotten he were there. Charley took the opportunity to snap a photograph of the man’s face. Beattritt had not only agreed to let Charley record the appointments, but he’d signed a release for his image to be used in any way to further a discussion on the AIDS epidemic.

  ‘They haven’t, but we’re getting handed our asses with this disease. If we don’t put a lid on it soon …’

  ‘Epidemic isn’t going to be just a word,’ Charley finished.

  ‘I was thinking apocalypse, but that works.’

  ‘The FDA is going to let you give a drug to your patients that hasn’t been tested enough?’ Hannah asked.

  ‘What difference does it make?’ Heath asked. ‘We’re dying.’

  ‘You need to quit saying that.’

  ‘Not saying it won’t make it less so. When can I try this stuff?’

  ‘I’m hoping by fall. Until then keep taking your AZT. Eat well. Sleep. Try to avoid places with a lot of people and all their germs. Try to avoid germs.’

  Charley laughed, then stopped when the doctor frowned. ‘You were serious? How does he avoid germs?’

  ‘Wash his hands obsessively. Try not to kiss anyone.’

  Heath rolled his eyes at Hannah.

  ‘Here’s a box of surgical masks.’ Beattritt plopped it down on the exam table next to Heath.

  ‘I’m not—’

  ‘Thank you.’ Hannah plucked up the box. ‘Are you giving him anything for the elevated white count?’

  ‘So far his body is doing its job and fighting off the infection, hence the elevated count. But if he comes down with something, even a cold, call me. Barring that, I’ll see you again in six weeks.’

  ‘Is there anything you can do about the protestors?’ Hannah asked.

  ‘I think you did something about the protestors,’ Heath said.

  ‘Not enough.’ If it had been enough they’d have scuttled off, never to return.

  ‘Are they out there again?’ The doctor sighed. ‘We’ve called the police, but they’re within their rights. You can leave by the doctors’ entrance, which comes out to the rear of the building.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Hannah said.

  The rear of the building spilled into a dank alley. Without any consultation, the three of them turned in the opposite direction from the one they’d arrived. As exhilarating as the confrontation with the protestors had been, no one wanted a repeat performance.

  ‘We can catch a cab back to the apartment, then Charley and I will walk to the office,’ Hannah said.

  ‘Sorry, I have to head to the airport.’

  Disappointment flooded her. ‘Didn’t you just get here?’

  He flashed a quick, absentminded smile. ‘I promised the kid we’d go to the zoo tomorrow. She likes to watch the big cats.’ His face took on the expression it always did when he talked about his daughter. Dopey devotion combined with surprise. He couldn’t believe he adored her as much as he did. ‘And I like to watch her watch the big cats.’

  ‘Don’t you have to meet with Ray?’ Hannah asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘You came to town just for the appointment?’

  ‘I said I would.’

  Heath laid his
hand on Charley’s arm. ‘You didn’t have to do that.’

  ‘If I hadn’t I’d have missed Amazing Hannah.’ He grinned at her. ‘And the protestors.’ His grin faded. ‘Assholes they were, but the pictures are perfect.’

  With Charley, it was always about the pictures.

  ‘Do you take pictures of your daughter?’

  ‘All the time. I’ve got thousands. She’s a pretty good subject.’ Charley’s face went dopey again. ‘But most kids are.’

  ‘You have any in your wallet?’

  Behind Charley, Heath spread his hands in a ‘What the fuck?’ gesture.

  Wasn’t it common to ask someone who talked about their kid like the second coming if they had a picture? She was pretty sure it was.

  ‘I don’t,’ Charley said as if he’d never realized it before that moment.

  Apparently no one else had ever asked to see one. Maybe she was being weird.

  ‘I take a lot of slide film. The black and white shots that I like I print at eight by ten. I’ve got a box of them at home. She likes to page through.’ He shrugged, sheepish. ‘So do I. They’re better than the school pics, which are creepy. Every kid appears the same. Stepford Kindergarten. You know?’

  Hannah nodded, though she didn’t know. She hadn’t seen a children’s school photograph since her own, and she hadn’t thought they were creepy. Then again, her parents had never carried one in their wallets either.

  Charley hailed a cab. It sped right past without slowing down.

  ‘I never wanted kids,’ he said, as if to himself. ‘I’d seen so many horrible things.’

  Heath mouthed Vietnam when Charley wasn’t looking.

  You think? Hannah mouthed back as Charley tried to hail another cab without any more success.

  ‘It seemed like everything I saw was bad.’ His lips tilted up just a bit. ‘Until I saw her.’

  Heath cast Hannah a glance. Why did he keep doing that?

  ‘My wife said our kid might change the world. She certainly changed mine.’

  A cab pulled up to the curb at last. Charley opened the door and motioned them in.

  ‘You can take this one,’ Hannah said. ‘Don’t you have a plane to catch?’

  ‘I’ve got time and …’ His blue eyes studied Heath’s face, then flicked to Hannah’s. He gave a tiny jerk of his head toward the cab.

  Heath did appear exhausted.

  She climbed in and Heath followed.

  Charley shut the door, then waved as the cab pulled into traffic.

  Hannah turned so she could see him out the back window. Another cab pulled over and he hopped in. DC traffic swallowed them up.

  ‘Hannah, it’ll never work.’

  ‘You need to give AZT more of a chance.’ She faced front. ‘And this DDI sounds promising.’

  ‘I’m not talking about my meds; I’m talking about Charley.’

  ‘Charley?’

  ‘Yeah, Charley.’ He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. ‘The guy you’re falling in love with.’

  ‘I … What?’ Her heart thundered again. She’d started to breathe too fast.

  ‘I’m your twin. I know when you’ve got it bad.’

  Her cheeks felt on fire. Her tongue felt too thick for her mouth.

  ‘Not only is he head over heels for his kid, he’s one of the few guys I’ve ever met who is genuinely, always and forever in love with his wife.’

  ‘I know.’ Her voice sounded as if someone had turned its speed to slow-mo.

  ‘You gotta stop falling in love with him.’

  She wasn’t falling; she’d already fallen. But she kept that to herself.

  ‘Is it that obvious?’

  The only thing worse than Heath knowing would be Charley knowing.

  ‘Not to him, honey, just to me.’

  She let out her breath in a rush.

  ‘But if you aren’t careful, he’ll figure it out. If he wasn’t a man, he’d have figured it out already.’

  ‘You’re a man,’ she muttered.

  ‘But I’m special.’ He put his arm around her and tugged her close.

  She leaned her head on his shoulder. ‘You are. Very.’

  ‘What would you do without me?’ he asked.

  ‘Panic,’ she whispered.

  Frankie

  Dr Lanier returned, his nose buried in a chart. It wasn’t until he sat behind his desk and glanced up that he realized there were only three of them in the room, where before there had been four.

  Charley hadn’t noticed at all.

  ‘Where’s Mrs …?’ Lanier paused. ‘Uh, Hannah.’

  ‘I don’t know where she went,’ Frankie said.

  ‘Is she coming back?’ Lanier asked.

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Yahoo.’ Charley gave a fist pump.

  ‘Uh …’ Lanier glanced at the door.

  ‘Tried that already,’ Frankie said. ‘Wishing doesn’t make her appear.’

  And that she might ever wish for the appearance of Hannah Blackwell was so out of this world that Frankie felt … out of this world.

  Dr Lanier emitted a soft sound of amusement, straightened and got down to business.

  ‘We’ll start daily radiation immediately. My reception desk can help you schedule that. This afternoon would be good, tomorrow at the latest.’

  ‘I can’t …’ she began, then saw again the same two words on the note Hannah had left.

  Lanier fixed her with a glare. ‘Join me in the hall for a moment, Francesca.’

  Charley had started examining a Time magazine he’d found on an end table and didn’t seem to notice or care when they left.

  ‘If he’s to have any chance at all we need to jump right on this with both feet,’ Lanier said.

  ‘I understand, but I’m not his wife.’

  ‘He thinks you are.’

  ‘People need to stop saying that.’ Frankie rubbed her forehead. ‘I can’t do this.’

  ‘Can’t or won’t?’

  She dropped her hand, curled it into a fist, let her fingernails bite into her palm and prayed for patience. ‘Both.’

  ‘Until you find his wife, a sibling, friend, relative or colleague who’s willing to help him, I’m afraid you’re stuck with him by reason of being stuck with him.’

  ‘Can’t he just go into the hospital and stay there?’

  ‘For radiation? Hardly. Insurance barely pays for things that are necessary; they certainly aren’t going to pay for what isn’t.’

  ‘You said he needed radiation.’

  ‘That they’ll pay for. As an outpatient. As an inpatient … I’m not really sure when they pay for that. But he has to start treatment now. Because of his memory issues, he’s going to require someone to walk him through this. No one’s here but you. Get him to radiation, then make some calls. If you can convince someone to take over, let me know. If we have to transfer his care elsewhere, though I’d rather not, I will.’ He put his hand on her shoulder. ‘OK?’

  It wasn’t, but what could she say? No?

  Well, she could, but she wasn’t going to.

  ‘OK.’

  He patted her shoulder – an atta girl without words – and walked away.

  Just for the hell of it, Frankie dialed Hannah again before she retrieved Charley. This time when the voicemail answered, she left a message.

  ‘You better have gotten hit by a bus. That’s the only acceptable reason for you not to be answering your phone. Call me as soon as they scrape you off the pavement.’ Frankie hit end.

  Then she noticed several of the nurses, and the same medical assistant she’d spoken to, staring at her wide-eyed.

  She waggled the phone. ‘My ex-husband’s wife.’

  ‘Ah.’ They all nodded sympathetically and scurried off.

  Charley was able to get an appointment for radiation in two hours, so instead of driving home they had lunch at Café Hollander not too far from the hospital in Wauwatosa.

  She started to make a mental list of peop
le to call about Charley. His parents had died in 1983, within six months of each other. His dad had a stroke, his mom a heart attack. Charley had been shooting a story on ‘modern’ Cambodia when his dad died. By the time he’d gotten to a phone, the funeral was over. Frankie had been able to beg off going herself because she was pregnant with Lisa.

  His mom had died when Lisa was a month old. At least Charley had been in the States when that call came through and managed to get back in time to join them in Illinois. Frankie had spent the entire funeral feeling guilty that Claire had never seen her granddaughter. They’d meant to visit, but they just … hadn’t.

  Even if his parents were still alive, they’d be in their eighties. What could they do?

  His brothers, however … She’d call them first.

  ‘How are Ben and David?’ Frankie asked Charley.

  ‘Still haven’t talked to them.’

  How could she have forgotten the estrangement that had followed their parents’ deaths? Ben and David had asked for money to help with the farm. Charley had given it to them. Twice. When they asked a third time, Frankie had balked. Charley had agreed. His brothers had stopped speaking to them.

  That was over thirty years ago. Shouldn’t they have made up by now?

  Charley wouldn’t know. He thought the rift was a few years old.

  She should ask Hannah.

  Frankie checked her phone. If only Hannah would call back.

  After lunch, they returned to the hospital. When they called Charley’s name for radiation, she held out her hand. ‘Leave your phone with me.’

  He complied in a very un-Charley-like manner. He’d always wanted to know the why of everything. Today he was just going along.

  Over half the names in his contacts were unfamiliar to her.

  Annoyed, she hit Hannah’s number from Charley’s phone. Maybe she’d answer his call.

  She didn’t, and when Frankie thought about it she knew why. Charley had no idea who Hannah was beyond a supposed friend of Frankie’s. He wouldn’t call her. Therefore Frankie must be calling. And Hannah wasn’t talking to Frankie right now.

  She punched the end button. She’d figure out what to do about Hannah later.

  Frankie found numbers for Ben and David. Who first?

  Ben was at the top. Ben it was.

  He didn’t answer either, and he didn’t have voicemail. Who didn’t have voicemail?