Blind Spot (Blind Justice Book 1)

by Adam Zorzi

  Rob was sweating by the time he jumped into the driver's seat. “This is what I mean. You make demands and expect everyone to accommodate you. I'm lugging towels, drinks, and my shoes and socks walking across deep sand and the hot highway while you sit in air-conditioned comfort like a prince. You can't do that.”

  “I can't do anything else, Rob. I can't. That's what Mørk does to me before the meds get to a therapeutic level. I'm in a twilight period. If I didn't take them at all, I'd have killed myself by now.” Tears flowed and he turned his head to the window so Rob wouldn't see.

  “Sorry,” said Rob. “I remember those years you lived at home after college. Not well, because Suzanne and I were newlyweds and you weren't high on our list of priorities, but I remember. Mom and Dad thought you might never get better. They even set up a special needs trust for you.”

  Dan turned his head back to Rob. “They did? You mean like the kind to take care of disabled children should the parents die?”

  Rob looked chagrined when he nodded. “Dan, you were disabled. You couldn't function. Hell, you couldn't even leave your room to go downstairs for a meal.”

  Dan had never thought about Mørk from his parents' perspective. They'd gone through a lot to get him sane. Maybe that's why his father was so opposed to his reunion with Bella. He probably believed she'd drop him again and he'd be back where he was all those years ago except he now had a wife and daughter to consider. Dad couldn't have known Bella would never do that now.

  “You know, Dan, it was easier then. Mørk made you vacillate between being comatose and suicidal. Now, you're enraged all the time. It's not good. Jill handles it well, but nothing fazes her. She's unflappable. Kaitlyn's afraid of you.”

  Hatred rose from his core. “Take that back.”

  “C'mon, Dan. We're not ten and six. Kaitlyn is afraid when you bark and snap and can't be touched. She's hurting because her grandfather died and her dad is acting like he hates her. She avoids you by spending as much time at Mom's as Jill allows. Jill is around, but she's focused on you. She knows Suzanne and I can take care of Kaitlyn while we're here. Mom is going to grieve for a long time, I think, and there's nothing any of us can do. You, I hope, can pull yourself together.”

  Dan let himself cry. He didn't care that Rob saw. He couldn't believe he was so sick he scared Katie. Why hadn't Jill told him? He, of course, knew the answer. She didn't want to make him feel worse than he already did. Mørk made him miserable.

  “I'm going to take you back to your hotel, but I've got to ask. I know you and Dad had an argument before he left Richmond last weekend. Did you get that worked out?”

  “No. He died having said terrible things to me.”

  “That must be rough. Guilt on top of grief.”

  What? He didn't feel guilty. Dad had been wrong. He didn't have any right to interfere with Dan's decision to divorce Jill and marry Bella.

  “I don't feel guilty. Dad was wrong.”

  Rob remained silent for a long time before he spoke. “I think you might want to reconsider that.” He turned the key in the ignition and started the car.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Jill declared Saturday to be family night after the fiasco of the lunch buffet. She'd picked up food from a local Japanese restaurant and handed Katie the plastic-wrapped silverware, napkins, and sauces. “You set the table and I'll unpack the bags. I think they gave us paper plates, too.”

  Jill moved easily and deftly as she unpacked. “Tonight's menu includes avocado, cucumber, and California rolls, seaweed salad, and Hibachi shrimp. Looks like they included six tangerines. Dan, do you feel like eating?”

  “Sounds good.” He didn't have much of an appetite, but he took a seat at the small round table. “Thanks for picking it up.”

  “Not a problem. It was a just a few blocks away. The parking lot was full. That's always a good sign that everything will be fresh and good quality if it's popular among the locals.”

  Katie didn't sit until Jill did. Rob was right. She was afraid of him or at least avoiding him. She passed bottled water to everyone without saying anything.

  “We can make tea after we eat if anyone wants it. There's a nice assortment of tea bags in the pantry. Kaitlyn, try not to have too much soda while we're here. That's all anyone offers.”

  “Mom, I can't resist Dr. Brown's cream soda. I've never seen it at home.”

  “I'd forgotten about that, Kaitlyn. I like it, too. Where did you see that?”

  “At Gran's.” She lowered her eyes. “Granddad kept a six-pack in the refrigerator, but he limited himself to two a week. It was his favorite drink. Gran said it had too many calories to drink more often.”

  “Maybe we can find a store in Richmond that carries it,” Dan said. “I'd like to have one once in a while. Can we add that to the shopping list, Jill?”

  “Of course.” She put her hand in his and squeezed lightly. “I'm going to impose the same restriction as Gran. Soda is not a healthy drink. Too much sugar. It's only a treat.”

  “Whatever you say as long as I can have one occasionally.” Dan took a few bites of his California roll. He left the cucumber and avocado ones for Jill and Katie. “What's the movie tonight, Katie?”

  “Apollo 13,” she said into her plate. “Granddad and I liked to watch it. Gran said I could borrow it tonight. I wish there were more movies about space travel. Star Trek is lame. Apollo 13 is really scary because it's true.

  “Granddad said he remembered when it happened. The whole country held its breath. Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch the splashdown on TV. He said seeing those three parachutes come into view was one of the scariest and happiest things he'd ever seen. “Katie finished an avocado roll and took a bite of shrimp. “How far is Cape Canaveral from here?”

  Jill looked to Dan to answer. “About two and a half hours, I think. Is that something you want to visit?” Katie nodded. “Maybe on our next visit. Christmas?”

  “Negative on that, Delta Dan.”

  They both looked at Jill. “Sorry, I promised two weeks at Christmas to my parents when I cancelled the Thanksgiving trip.”

  Katie looked like she was going to burst into tears. “But Granddad died, Mom. It's not like we're on vacation. We didn't mean to miss Thanksgiving. Two weeks with Grandmother and Grandfather Carter? Mom, we can't stay two weeks.”

  Two weeks with Jill's parents? No way. Dan pushed his plate away. Nausea had returned.

  ***

  Dan didn't make it to the end of the movie. Between the tension at his mother's lunch, his afternoon with Rob, and the effects of his meds, Dan fell asleep within the first fifteen minutes. Jill sent him to bed. She and Katie stayed up to watch.

  He woke around two in the morning and got up to take a scheduled dose of three different pills. Looking at the tiny sleeping form of Jill, Dan marveled that he'd been given such a gift. She'd slipped into bed without a sound and slept as far from him as she could so as not to irritate his skin. The notepad on her nightstand contained a schedule of his medications, telephone numbers for his doctors and department head at work, and directions to the local hospital. His health was her priority.

  Everything she'd done since they'd received news of his father's death had been to make his life bearable. She was accustomed to Mørk making a short appearance in the fall. Compounded with his father's death, Dan doubted he'd survive without Jill's care.

  Although Jill kept an eye on his mother and Katie, she focused her attention on him. She made his excuses when he needed to rest at the hotel and avoid receiving condolence calls. She let him cry unabashedly. She anticipated his needs and guarded him fiercely.

  He could hear his father's voice as he watched her sleep. Liar. Cheat. Liar. Cheat.

  By the time they left Florida Monday afternoon, Dan was still sick with Mørk. The side effects of the medications had abated, but he didn't feel better. At least Katie didn't seem as skittish around him. When he looked at his mother, all he saw was disapproval. Just before he
left, his mother patted his hand and whispered, “Do the right thing.”

  She was his father's spokesperson on earth. Offering no comfort for his loss, his mother echoed his father's words of shame and disappointment.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Dan burrowed himself deep into the house. Although Katie went back to school Tuesday, he took the entire week off. Travelling back to Richmond Monday exhausted him. Jostling crowds, voices and shouts, and bright lights of the airport terminals overwhelmed him.

  He knew he needed another full week before his medication would allow him to function. He might be able to tolerate one-minute conversations, focus on topics in thirty minute increments, and maybe answer emails in small batches next week. His experience as a project manager was by the time he received a third email on the same topic, the problem had been solved or no longer mattered.

  His narrow attention span and slow reflexes prohibited him from driving. He'd have to rely on Jill to drive him anywhere just as Katie did. He trusted Jill to make arrangements so he wouldn't be stuck in a car with a trio of ten-year-old girls going to and from St. Margaret's.

  He'd start work for half days the first week and return to full time the following week. What he thought or guessed or planned didn't matter. Mørk would decide; Mørk dictated his life.

  He now sat in Dr. Spellman's office discussing Mørk. Dan tried to concentrate on the young doctor's questions. Yes, he understood he was here because Dr. Spellman didn't like to prescribe such strong medication without seeing the patient immediately upon return to town. He recited his symptoms and, described the lingering side effects No, he didn't have any questions.

  Wait. He did. It would break through his consciousness any minute now. Katie. Yes, something to do with Katie. “Dr. Spellman, my daughter is afraid of me when Mørk appears.”

  “You've never mentioned this during past episodes,” was the placid response.

  “I never noticed it. My brother told me when we were in Florida. After he mentioned it, I watched for signs. He was right. She's afraid.”

  He got the look psychiatrists perfect to mean he should continue even though every word was a chore to find in the cotton that was his brain and then force it out of his mouth between aching jaws and over his dry tongue.

  “My brother said I was irritable, demanding, and rude. I shouted and snapped. My daughter responded by avoiding me. She wouldn't sit with me alone. She waited for her mother to initiate conversation between the three of us. She sat on the aisle seat with her mother between us on flights.”

  “All normal reactions for someone close to a man who acted as you described. Your daughter was grieving, too.”

  “Yes. I hadn't realized how intensely she feels things. I knew she had some of my moodiness, but mostly she's very much like her mother—extroverted, fun to be around, and sweet. I'm worried she's inherited depression from me.”

  Dr. Spellman refocused his eyes to the painting to the left of Dan's head. “Depression runs in families. We haven't discovered a specific genetic marker to track. At ten, her brain is immature. Even if I were to examine her, I wouldn't be able to give you a definitive diagnosis.

  “It sounds like you were bad-tempered, focused on your own grief, and unaware of anything around you. All normal for a grieving person. Textbook for someone whose depression is as bad as yours. Had she ever witnessed you with such a severe episode?”

  Dan shook his head.

  “Her response was normal and healthy. You, along with your wife, need to explain the nature of your illness. Make sure she understands that you have an illness that disturbs your thoughts and actions and lasts about two to three weeks with medication.

  “Your wife is quite attuned to your symptoms and my suggestions when we've spoken. She seems to have a firm grasp of your condition. She's never expressed fear for her safety or that of your daughter. She's unusually accepting. Realistic with some optimism.”

  “Unflappable is the word my brother used.”

  He nodded. “I agree with your brother.”

  Great. Everyone agrees Jill is perfect. Next question.

  “Why do you refuse do discuss your father's death?”

  He didn't have the energy to lie. “The last time we spoke, we argued. Intensely. He said he was ashamed I was his son.”

  “That's quite strong.”

  “He'd been saying it for more than a year. He was angry he couldn't control me.”

  “Why would your elderly father believe he could control you?”

  He wasn't going to argue that his father wasn't elderly. He didn't have the strength.

  “Dad and I never had any real conflicts. Growing up, I wasn't a kid who got into trouble. My parents were my caretakers during my first experience with depression. My brother told me this weekend my parents were so worried about my ability to recover, they established a special needs trust. They're relieved I live a normal life. They like my wife. They love Katie.”

  “Why would your father believe he could control you?” Spellman repeated.

  “We disagreed on one issue. He thought his opinion was morally superior. He thought I should defer to that.”

  “This thing is?”

  Why didn't Spellman just bring out the rack? This was torture. He'd spell it out, but he spoke as if by rote.

  “My first long depression was triggered by the break-up with my girlfriend, my soul mate, in graduate school. We'd been together five years. We had an accidental encounter last year and have been having an affair for a year. My father knew it and asked me to stop. The last time I saw him, I told him I planned to divorce my wife to marry this woman. She's a widow. He disapproved from a moral perspective and a practical one. He considered me a liar and a cheat. He also believed this affair wouldn't last, the woman would drop me just like she had when we were young, and I'd have ruined my family for no reason.”

  “You disagreed that it wouldn't last?”

  “Yes. I've loved her since I was seventeen. Not many people get a second chance. We have. I don't want to lose her again.”

  “And now?”

  “Now, I realize I underestimated the effect a divorce would have on Katie. She was devastated by the death of her grandfather. She's sensitive and emotional like me. I thought she was as sunny and optimistic as her mother. I can't imagine how she'd cope if her parents divorced.”

  “What about the woman?”

  “I haven't spoken to her.”

  “About what? Since when?”

  Wasn't it time for the session to be over? This was agony.

  “She and I planned to spend the long Thanksgiving weekend together and had rented a vacation house. My wife and daughter were flying to visit her family in Charleston the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. I'd written a letter to my wife asking for a divorce that I planned to put in her checked baggage at the airport. She wouldn't read it until she arrived in Charleston. My girlfriend, for lack of a better word, was coming Wednesday morning. I'd have told my wife about the divorce and have a guilt-free weekend with her.”

  Spellman looked at his notes.

  “Your father died Tuesday.”

  Dan nodded.

  “How did your girlfriend take that news?”

  “I didn't tell her.”

  “How did you explain the change in plans?”

  “I didn't.”

  Spellman looked at him directly. “You haven't spoken to this woman you profess to be your soul mate since your father died? You didn't tell her there'd been a change in plans? Did she come to Richmond from wherever she lives?”

  “New York.”

  “You've gone into radio silence with this woman?”

  Dan looked down at his hands. This was like talking to his father except Spellman was taking Bella's side.

  “Has she tried to contact you?”

  “I don't know.”

  “Dan, you suffer from depression not stupidity. Your judgment is clouded and medication causes sleepiness, but you're able to understand fact
s. Has this woman contacted you?”

  “If she has, she would have called my office. We used burner phones. I keep mine at the office. I left it there when I went home for lunch Tuesday and learned my father was dead. I haven't been to my office since then.”

  “And out of the sheer courtesy you would have shown any houseguest, you didn't inform her there'd been a change of plans? You didn't share what was one of the most emotional events of your life—the death of a parent—with someone you call a soul mate? In particular, the father who knew about the affair?”

  Dan kept his eyes on his hands and shook his head.

  “Your boss was informed, I presume. He knew not to expect you at work. Correct?”

  “Jill called him.”

  “At your request.”

  Enough. “I couldn't very well ask Jill to call her and cancel, could I?”

  “I suppose Jill made arrangements regarding the dog, newspaper and mail deliveries, and your home security company. “

  “Yes.”

  “Yet, you didn't make this one phone call.”

  Dan gave up. He had nothing to say.

  Spellman swiveled in his chair to his computer. “I'm adding another medication to take first thing every morning with food.” He tapped on his keyboard. “Still using Raintree Pharmacy? They deliver?

  “Yes,” squeaked Dan. His voice was shot with this much conversation. Two mouse clicks. Spellman stood. “Dan, I suggest you think about that behavior before I see you next week. The same time. Call me if you have any problems with your meds.”

  Spellman held the door open for Dan to leave.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  After the exhausting appointment with Dr. Spellman, Dan slept the remainder of Tuesday. Jill and Katie ate dinner alone. He slept most of the week, but he was always awake for dinner with his wife and daughter and at least an hour afterward. He encouraged Katie to talk about school, sports, and her friends in an effort to ease their relationship back to normalcy.