All That Lies Within

by Lynn Ames

  Doctor Emanuel cleared his throat again, and Dara realized that he seemed profoundly uncomfortable. Although she had only met him the day before, he didn’t strike her as the nervous type.

  “I want you to know…” He continued to fiddle with the IV line. “I want you to know how deeply angered I am personally.”

  “I’m sorry,” Dara withdrew her hand from her mother’s. “What are you talking about?”

  Doctor Emanuel looked at the other man, and then at Dara for the first time since he’d come into the room. “You don’t know?”

  “Know what?”

  “About the photos and the article.”

  Dara’s heart sank. “What photos? What article?” For the first time, she noticed that the other man held a newspaper folded under his arm.

  “This is Gerry Nuland. He is the Vice President of our hospital’s Quality Assurance Committee.”

  The man stepped forward and handed the newspaper to Dara without comment.

  The first thing Dara saw was the shot of her at the airport yesterday and the big, banner headline. Her heart flipped. She opened the paper to the next page and felt the bile rise in her throat as she spied the shot of her mother in the hospital bed. She dropped the paper on the floor. “Who?” Her voice shook. “Who took this?”

  The doctor started to answer, but the other man interrupted him.

  “We deeply, deeply regret this incident, but we are not at liberty to discuss confidential personnel matters. This hospital does not tolerate such breaches. Rest assured that this matter has been investigated and dealt with swiftly and decisively.”

  Dara felt sick. She knew she shouldn’t do it, but she picked up the newspaper again and read the brief article. With each word, despair at the indignity to her mother threatened to bring Dara to her knees. She was used to the loss of privacy for herself, but the picture of her mother on her deathbed…that was a violation of basic human decency.

  “As I said, we are very, very sorry about this,” Doctor Emanuel said. “It never should have happened, and I assure you, it will never happen again.”

  “It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?” Dara mumbled, as much to herself as to the two men.

  “The full committee will meet this afternoon to discuss this matter and evaluate how and where protocols might have been compromised. If there is a determination that changes should be made to our current systems, they will be instituted immediately.”

  “That’s all well and good…Mr. Nuland, is it? But it’s not going to give my mother back her dignity now, is it? Or me my privacy?” It was so rare for Dara to lose her temper that the heat rising in her chest frightened her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, praying for patience and control. So many things were happening at once and her emotions were on overload. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be difficult. I’m normally pretty even-keeled. Everything is just a bit much for me right now.”

  “Of course it is,” Doctor Emanuel said.

  “I’m sure you and the hospital will take all necessary and appropriate actions.”

  “What happened is regrettable. I wish it hadn’t happened. I assure you, I would change it if I could, Ms. Thomas.”

  “I know you would.”

  “Do you have any questions, Ms. Thomas?” Nuland asked. If not, I’ll leave you and Doctor Emanuel to discuss your mother’s condition.”

  “Honestly, right now all I want is to focus on my mother.”

  “Very well. If you decide later on that there are questions you’d like to ask specific to this…unfortunate…situation, here is my card.”

  Dara took it.

  “Again, I’m sorry for the lapse and I’m sorry about your mother.”

  After he left, Dara and the doctor stood awkwardly facing each other.

  “Well, then, let’s talk about your mother.”

  As if on cue, Dara’s mother groaned, and Dara took her hand without thought. “Is she…?

  Doctor Emanuel shook his head. “Vocalization is a common occurrence.” He removed the stethoscope from around his neck and conducted his examination.

  When he’d finished, Dara asked, “Any change?”

  “Not of the kind you’re looking for, I’m afraid. Her breath sounds are more shallow and her lungs are filling with fluid.”

  Dara felt the tears well again in her eyes and she willed them not to spill onto her cheeks. “I suppose… I suppose it’s only going to get worse from here, right?”

  Doctor Emanuel nodded.

  “And if I authorize you to remove all life support now…”

  “I can’t say for sure.”

  “If she was your mother, what would you do?”

  “I can’t make this decision for you. Only you can do that.”

  Dara tried to read something, anything in the doctor’s expression. All she saw was compassion. “There’s no chance for improvement?”

  “No.”

  “Okay.” Dara entwined her fingers with her mother’s. “Let’s do it, then. I authorize you to remove all life support.”

  Doctor Emanuel nodded. “Do you want to be here for that? It will take about half an hour or so.”

  As much as Dara wanted to say no, she felt that she owed it to her mother to bear witness. “I’ll stay.”

  “Very well. I’ll call the nurse and she’ll take care of gathering the respiratory therapist and the rest of the team, and we’ll get this done right now.” As Doctor Emanuel was about to leave the room, he turned around. “I promise you that we’ll continue to provide your mother with morphine for the pain and anything else she needs to keep her comfortable.”

  “Thank you, doctor.”

  “Do you want me to call the chaplain for you?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Very well then, I’ll start the process right away.”

  When it was done, Dara sat alone with her mother. The door was closed to give them some privacy and the room seemed so much more peaceful without the noise of the machines. In the quiet, the sound of her mother’s labored breathing seemed so much louder.

  Dara took her mother’s hand again and held it loosely. Perhaps it was her imagination, or maybe wishful thinking, but her mother seemed more at ease now—more peaceful and serene, despite the rattling breath sounds.

  As the hours passed, Dara’s eyelids began to grow heavy. The restless, memory-filled sleep last night, combined with all of the emotion of the past two days, was taking its toll. Still, she wasn’t ready to leave her mother’s side. No one, not even her mother, deserved to die alone. So Dara scooted the chair a little closer and laid her head on the side of the bed. If she could just rest her eyes for a few minutes, she could rally again. Within seconds, she was asleep.

  The angel was large and luminous and light radiated everywhere around him. Dara watched as he effortlessly lifted her mother in his arms. “It’s time, Dara. It’s time for your mother to go home.”

  Dara felt a comforting hand on her shoulder. She smiled, enjoying the dream. Then someone squeezed her hand and her eyes popped open. She lifted her head in time to see her mother looking at her. She was certain that she must still be sleeping, but her mother squeezed again. This time, Dara squeezed back and covered her mother’s hand with her other hand.

  Her mother mumbled something, and Dara leaned in closer. “What, Mother?” She put her ear right next to her mother’s lips.

  “I’m…glad…you came.”

  “Me too.” Dara’s eyes watered.

  “You…were…right.”

  “Right? Right about what?”

  “There really…are…angels.”

  At that, Dara cried. She watched as her mother left her body. Indeed, the radiance of the large angel Dara saw in her dream enfolded her mother. She wanted to say something, but the words, “I love you” wouldn’t come. Instead, she said, “Goodbye, Mother. Safe journey.”

  And then the hand holding hers went limp. Dara looked back to her mother’s face. It was peaceful. She w
as gone.

  “How was your reunion?” Natalie asked Rebecca as they passed the Morgan Horse Farm on their way up the hill.

  Should she share about the night with Sharon? What would Natalie think of that? Unconsciously, Rebecca picked up the pace. “It was…interesting.”

  “Oh. Cryptic. Interesting in the cluster fuck sense, or interesting as in you met someone and are madly, deeply in love, or at least in lust.”

  Again, Rebecca stepped up the pace. She took satisfaction in hearing Natalie struggle to breathe. Maybe it would keep her from asking any more questions. “Interesting, as in interesting. As in, not boring.”

  “I remember when you used to be fun, you know that? And are you trying to kill me, or what?”

  “Or what. Although the thought does have some appeal,” Rebecca joked. “Crazy killer kilometers kill popular professor. It has a nice ring to it.”

  “Well done, but you’re obfuscating. You met someone, didn’t you?”

  “I met a lot of people.”

  Natalie growled in frustration. “Why are you being so difficult about this?”

  “Difficult? Who’s being difficult?”

  “You are. You had all that angst trying to decide whether or not you wanted to go, and now you won’t even talk about it?”

  Rebecca frowned. Natalie was right, of course. She’d spent weeks agonizing about attending the reunion, and Natalie had been with her every step of the way—literally, since it had been on their runs that they hashed through the pros and cons. Surely she deserved a real answer.

  “It got off to a rough start. The first person I ran into was the one I least wanted to see.”

  “The moronic bully you told me about?”

  “Yes. Him. Took him all of three seconds to revert to childhood.”

  “Maybe he never left.”

  “Probably. Anyway, he was predictably inappropriate, gross, and disgusting.”

  “But you stood up to him, right?”

  “I did.”

  Natalie squealed and clapped her hands. “Excellent. See? I told you you could do it. I’m proud of you.” After a beat she added, “It was probably lost on him, though, huh?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Please tell me the night got better from there.”

  “Okay. The night got better from there.” Rebecca smiled as Natalie grunted in exasperation. “I met a woman—”

  “I knew it!”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “Oh, how disappointing.”

  “I mean, it is what you think, but it’s not.”

  Natalie laughed. “For someone as eloquent as you are, you seem to be having a hard time articulating, Professor.”

  “It’s complicated.” Was it? When Rebecca thought about Sharon and what happened, it really seemed rather simple. So she explained about the brief encounter and her reaction to it. What she didn’t expect, was to be met with stone-cold silence. “You’re not saying anything.”

  “I’m busy seething at Cynthia.”

  “Oh.”

  “That woman screwed you fifteen ways to Sunday. I’d love to put my little hands around her neck and—”

  Rebecca shook her head. “She doesn’t deserve the energy you’re giving her by thinking about it.”

  “I may be giving her the energy, but you’re giving her power by letting her stand in the way of you and any potential love interest that crosses your path. How long are you planning to let that wench control your life?”

  Rebecca started to object then stopped herself. Natalie was right. Even in her absence, Cynthia cast a long shadow. It was time to stand in her own power. Hadn’t that been the problem growing up—that she’d let everyone else determine how she felt about herself and how she lived her life? Well, that time was over.

  “No more.”

  “I’m sorry? I couldn’t hear you.” Natalie playfully put her hand to her ear. “A little louder and with more authority, please?”

  “No more,” Rebecca shouted, her words echoing in the stillness of the summer air.

  “That’s more like it. So, do you have Sharon’s digits?” Natalie waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

  “I do not. It wasn’t that kind of connection. I mean, don’t get me wrong, she was gorgeous and nice, but…”

  “But not the kind of girl you bring home to Mother?”

  Rebecca pondered the question. “Nah. It’s not really that. I mean, I wouldn’t bring her home to my mother, but then again, I wouldn’t subject any woman to my mother. Still, I suspect Sharon would hold her own in most settings.”

  “So, what’s the deal with her.”

  “It’s the intangibles, you know?”

  “Nope. Clueless.”

  Rebecca searched around for what she was trying to say. “Whoever is next for me, I want her to be ‘the one.’ Does that make any sense?”

  “You mean like some idealized, romanticized image from one of the novels you teach? A love to exceed all others.”

  “Something like that,” Rebecca agreed. “Let me guess. You think that’s nothing but a bunch of literary rubbish.”

  “Hey. I may not be the most romantic woman in the world, but I can agree that it’s possible for others to find that one, perfect match.”

  They finished the run in silence. But Rebecca found that her thoughts were anything but still. For reasons she knew she’d never share with Natalie, the enigma that was Constance Darrow filled her mind to overflowing.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “I have something that’ll cheer you up,” Carolyn said, as she helped Dara sift through her mother’s papers. They were sitting at Carolyn’s dining room table three days after Dara’s mother passed away. Carolyn had no trouble convincing her best friend to check out of the hotel and come stay with her and Stan, especially after the press outside the hospital mobbed her. Apparently, after the National Enquirer story, every newspaper, tabloid, and entertainment magazine and several syndicated television shows staked out positions in front of the hospital and hotel.

  “Hmm?”

  “What are you reading that has you so engrossed?” Carolyn peeked over Dara’s shoulder. “Your mother kept old love letters between her and your father?”

  “So it would appear.”

  “How romantic.”

  “Remarkably, they are. I didn’t think either of them had an ounce of passion in their souls. I was wrong.”

  “Something came in the mail for you today.” Carolyn dearly wanted to make some clever connecting quip as a segue, but she feared it would call attention to something she was sure Dara wasn’t seeing…yet.

  “It did?”

  “Uh-huh. Another letter from your favorite Am Lit professor.” And there it was. Dara looked up and smiled. It was brief, but Carolyn caught it. Over the past few months, Constance Darrow and Rebecca Minton had exchanged no less than a half dozen letters. Since Carolyn was the conduit, she bore witness to both sides of the correspondence. In the past couple of letters, Carolyn noticed that Dara had begun to soften and allow glimpses of her wicked sense of humor to shine through. That was a first with any admirer, not to mention the fact that this now qualified as the longest-running correspondence Dara and/or Constance had maintained with any one fan.

  The last time Dara let her guard down was with that witch, Sheilah. In the ten years since, Dara hadn’t so much as looked at another woman.

  When Sheilah first came on the scene, Dara was so filled with joy, and Carolyn was grateful. Dara had led such a lonely, solitary life. That she should find great happiness was everything Carolyn hoped for her friend. Then Sheilah broke Dara’s heart and Carolyn’s heart broke for her. She watched the wariness slip back in and the light go out of Dara’s eyes.

  Until now. That was what Dara hadn’t yet recognized. Rebecca’s letters breathed new life into her. Without realizing it, Dara had begun looking forward to them. Carolyn didn’t know where, if anywhere, the correspondence would lead, but she loved seeing the ligh
t back in Dara’s eyes. For now, that was enough.

  She handed Dara the unopened letter. As anticipated, Dara’s expression was quizzical.

  “You didn’t review it?”

  Carolyn tried out her best nonchalant one-shoulder shrug. “I figured by now it was safe to leave you two adults unsupervised.” She held her breath, hoping the implication wouldn’t send Dara running from the room.

  “You, trusting someone enough not to run interference? That’s a switch.”

  “I vetted her. She is who she says she is. Her résumé is solid and she doesn’t seem to have an agenda beyond being a really good Constance Darrow geek. I see no harm. Unless you want me to…”

  “No. That’s okay. I checked her out too.”

  “You did?”

  “Of course. You don’t think I’d keep answering her otherwise, do you?”

  “I just figured you trusted my judgment.” Carolyn gave a mock pout.

  “Well, that too. Did you catch her last lecture? She had the kids wrapped around her little finger.”

  Carolyn hid a huge grin. She had seen the lecture. It was a great piece of theater. Before she could answer, Dara prattled on.

  “I can’t believe they record the lectures and put them on YouTube like that. And from several camera angles too. Then again, it might just have been a student-led effort.”

  Carolyn badly wanted to ask whether Dara found Rebecca attractive, but she held her tongue. Carolyn certainly thought Rebecca was. Not just attractive. She’s gorgeous. “I’m glad you’re participating in your own security. I’m proud of you—knowing who you’re talking to and all.”

  “Uh-huh. Don’t patronize me.”

  “Me? I would never. Hardly ever.” Carolyn winked. “I’m going to go start dinner. Join me in the kitchen when you’re done in here.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  As Carolyn walked out, she watched out of the corner of her eye as Dara turned the envelope over and over in her hands. Yes. This was going quite well.

  “No. Absolutely not.” Dara jumped up from the visitor’s chair and went to gaze out the window at the New York skyline.