You Again

by Peggy Nicholson

  “You were expecting the SWAT team?” Raye Talbot laughed as she glided past.

  “Something like that.” Sam lowered his voice to a murmur and tipped his head warningly toward the bed. “I had a little set-to with my ex-brother-in-law.”

  “I know.” Raye touched his shoulder.

  Sam let out a hissing breath. “Word travels that fast ’round here?”

  “Fisher called me, Sam. Your brother-in-law has informed him that you are not family and that you have no say in Jessica’s treatment, and he wanted Fisher to tell you so. Also, that if you tried to interfere in any way, then Fisher was to call Security. So Fisher called me to do his dirty work. That’s part of my job, you know—liaison between patients, or patients’ loved ones, and the staff.” She touched his arm again. “I’m sorry. I know this is hard.”

  “It’s hell.”

  No, it was hell watching this. Jessica fought down the growl in her throat. If Raye didn’t know she was here, then now was not the time to announce her presence. What’s your game, Raye?

  Sam walked to the window and stood there, staring out. He rested one hand on Jessica’s carrier. “You know what Myles wanted?” he whispered as Raye joined him. When she nodded, he sighed and curled his fingers into two of the breathing holes in the bag. “What’s really hellish is, I have to ask myself if maybe he’s right?”

  He’s not! Inside the bag, Jessica kissed his fingers, and he brushed her cheek in blind response.

  Sam drew a shaking breath. “I have to ask myself if I’m being selfish wanting to keep her…keep her alive. If maybe she’d rather die, if this is the alternative.” He jerked his chin toward the bed. “Lord knows, I know which I’d choose for myself. So do I have any right to ask Jess to…”

  “Yes. You’ll have to think.” Raye’s voice was a length of black velvet, dragged slowly across skin. “And there’s something else you must consider.”

  “What?” Sam said, his tone both breathless and flat.

  “Did you ever stop to think how all this started, Sam? The fire?”

  Oh, you bitch! Jessica clamped her teeth to swallow a cat scream.

  “They said an accident, a candelabra knocked over,” Sam muttered. “That she’d apparently had a drink, maybe been clumsy. What are you—”

  “It’s the first thing you learn as a psychiatrist, Sam. There’s no such thing as an accident. Or at least, they’re much rarer than you’d think.”

  “You’re saying Jess—” He cut himself off and glanced toward the bed.

  Raye touched his shoulder again, then rested her hand there. “This is hard for me, too, Sam. Not as hard as it is for you, I know, but Jessica was my friend, too.”

  In her bag, Jessica’s hair stood on end, her nails stabbed into the flooring beneath her. You liar. You barefaced, psychopathic liar!

  “But because Jessica was my friend—your love—then it’s we who must ask. What did Jessica want? If that’s what she was setting out to do, and her attempt…miscarried, then don’t we owe it to her to…respect her wishes?”

  He swung to catch the hand she’d laid on him. “Did she say anything, do anything, that would make you think she…” He glanced toward the bed. “Look, we can’t talk about this in here.” Plunging toward the door, he towed her behind. Raye tripped over her high heels, laughed when his hand effortlessly bore up her weight and hurried after. He swung the door wide, put his fingers to the small of her back to sweep her through, then pulled it shut behind them.

  It happened so fast Jessica’s first yowl of protest sounded just as the door clicked shut. “Sam, come back here! Don’t trust her. She’s a lying, murdering, two-faced—ooh!” She spun around in her bag, her tail lashing, her claws slashing at its sides. Oh, I can’t believe you’d—Just because she looks like that, talks like…walks like…She lifted her chin and yowled. “Come back! Don’t listen!”

  But if Sam wasn’t listening to someone, it was her. Five minutes of yelling achieved her nothing but a fair case of laryngitis. Perhaps they’d moved away from the door? She turned her attention to the zipper and broke two claws—it wasn’t as easy as it had looked. She’d just succeeded in shoving it an inch down its track and thrusting one paw into the light when the door opened. Oops. She yanked it back and pressed one eye to her peephole. A nurse’s aide entered the room pushing a wheeled cart. She placed it to one side of the bed, then stooped to remove a bag of IV fluid from beneath.

  Sam stalked into the room, his face grim, his hands jammed in his pockets. He stood glowering, answering only when spoken to, while the aide finished her chores.

  Thank God! Jessica sat and rested her aching head against the side of the bag. Raye Talbot was nowhere to be seen. I hope you told her to take her slimy insinuations and—No, you’re a gentleman. Oh, if I were only human, I’d scratch her eyes out.

  The aide left, leaving the cart pushed against the wall by the bed. Sam crossed directly to the windowsill. “The cat wants out of her bag?”

  “Does she!” She vaulted up into his arms—nose touch. “What did Raye tell you?”

  But he wasn’t saying. He wasn’t talking at all. Sam had withdrawn to some hurting center, where she couldn’t reach him. He didn’t even blink when she laid a paw on his cheek. He simply stood, hugging her, staring out through the glass at the tired old mills and factories beyond the elevated freeway until their windows turned bloody with the setting sun. When the freeway was a rush-hour river of lights and glinting chrome, he sighed, checked his watch, then bent to tuck Jessica into her bag.

  He carried her slowly to the door, then stopped, one hand flattened on its surface. “You aren’t even going to say goodbye?” she asked timidly. God, you believe Raye, don’t you? What did she tell you?

  Sam set her bag down and swung back to the bed. Sinking onto the mattress, he leaned over her body. “Jessbabe?” He slid one hand under her neck to cup the back of her head. “Babe? Somebody told me…Somebody suggested that the fire wasn’t…an accident, that you set it, and that…that you might have done that because you were upset…depressed ’bout my coming to town, my insisting on seeing you, when you wanted nothing to do with me.”

  “No, Sam!” With a sly twist of a fact here, an ugly suggestion there, Raye had shredded the gossamer fabric of their trust. How evil could one woman be? “No! That’s all a crock of lies!”

  Sam didn’t turn his head. “Babe, if that’s so, I don’t…I don’t know what to do now. Should I stay here, knowing I caused this, knowing no apology I could ever make would make this up to you? I’ve no right at all to be here if you were that desperate to avoid me in the first place. I mean, I knew you didn’t want to see me, you made that plain enough, but I’d thought—hoped—that maybe there was some misunderstanding, that we really had something to talk out, if I could just get you to talk with me.”

  He dipped his head till their foreheads touched. “Goddamn bull in a china shop, Jess, that’s me, but this time, stomping on Ming vases…If I did this to you, babe, I swear I’ll—”

  “You didn’t, Sam! Oh, Sam, would you listen?”

  He shook his head, his lips caressing her eyebrows. “So I’ve no right to stay, but if I go, then…who fights for you, baby? Who’ll be here, when…” His voice choked off on a hoarse intake of breath.

  “Sam, ask me what I want.” She beamed every ounce of her will into that demand. “Ask me.”

  “You know, it’s funny,” he whispered. “But sometimes I swear I can almost hear you. I know you’re tryin’ to reach me. So tell me now, babe, tell me what to do, what you want. Do I stay, or should I go?”

  If heart and soul could be channeled to one laser beam of desire, aimed, then fired at another heart, then… Closing her eyes, Jessica gathered herself, then loosed her cry. Stay! I love you, Sam, stay. Be here for me, as I would be for you, now and for always.

  Jessica opened her eyes as Sam let out a laughing sob that ended with his lips touching her body’s lips. “You…” He kissed her mouth, he
r cheeks, her eyelids, her mouth. “Jess, Jess, okay, then, babe, if that’s what you want, it’s me and you…me and you and your crazy cat, and the devil take who stands in our way. I’m here, babe. And here I stay.” He kissed her one last, lingering kiss, then straightened with a crooked smile.

  In the bag, Jessica sank till her belly fur brushed the flooring, then she fell to her side. Whatever fueled the spirit, she’d spent hers and Cattoo’s to the last drop, but one. But in a good cause, she told herself as Sam lifted the bag. For the only cause that ever could matter.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  AS SAM CARRIED HER, she drifted in and out of sleep, opening her eyes once to the sickening fall of the elevator, then closing them again as they walked, somewhere still in the hospital, by the sounds and the smells. She curled a paw over her nose and drifted away. Home, take me home.

  A door shut nearby, then a woman’s voice murmured warmly in her dreams. Then Sam, saying something about changing his mind, that he was very grateful for the offer, but he’d decided he could handle his problems himself, that therapy just wasn’t his—

  “I’m not suggesting therapy, Sam,” Raye Talbot protested on a note of laughter. “Think of it as a valuesclarification session. Just a chat to help you sort out your options. Maybe help you reach some sort of…acceptance.“

  Sam snorted, then turned it to a sneeze. “That’s very kind of you, Raye, but on this, I reckon I’ll make up my own mind. Fact is, it’s made up. I’ve accepted that I’m goin’ to the wall, if I have to. They unplug Jess over my dead body.”

  “If that’s what you’ve decided, then good for you, Tex.”

  Right, Jessica thought groggily. What’s wrong with this picture? She was too tired to sit up, but her tail was puffing to a furry exclamation point. Danger, danger, don’t believe a word she—

  “There’s just one slight problem,” Raye continued. “I didn’t exactly…fib, this afternoon, but I did, umm, finesse you on one point.” She chuckled ruefully. “I thought I’d get away with it since you promised you’d come and have a chat.”

  “I know I said that, but—”

  But here it comes, Jessica thought, clutching after her scattered wits. Here it comes. She struggled to her feet.

  “What I didn’t tell you before, since it didn’t seem necessary, is that Fisher and Myles were really…disturbed by your outburst this morning. Fisher’s a bit of an old woman.”

  He’s not, Jessica thought. Anything but, from what I hear.

  “And I’m sure Myles blew the argument out of all proportion, but I guess you really rattled his cage. Anyway, they’re worried about malpractice suits, possibly outright violence…” She laughed, and Sam attempted to join in, but it ended as more of an embarrassed growl.

  “I know, I know, it’s perfectly ludicrous,” Raye agreed, giggling. “But still, the upshot is, Fisher wants me to evaluate you—assess that you’re not dangerous to anyone on staff. That you’ll abide by hospital rules…”

  Sam snorted. “Of course I will. That doesn’t mean I won’t bring in a go-for-the-jugular lawyer and sue his ass from here to Hawaii if he writes DNR on her chart, but he’s physically safe—till all else fails.”

  “I think I’ll do some heavy editing before I pass that statement on.” Her heels tapped with teasing deliberation as she moved closer. “But I’m afraid that doesn’t quite solve my problem. Fisher wants you barred from his ward till I’ve certified you harmless. And professionally speaking, I can’t pretend to have held a session with you if I haven’t.”

  She’s lying, Jessica realized. I wonder if Fisher even called her?

  Sam blew out a breath. “And so, to satisfy Fisher, we go through the motions—is that what you want?”

  “Putting it bluntly, that’s exactly what I want. Come in for an hour and lie on my couch. Tell me your life story, or dirty jokes, or whatever you—”

  “No!” Jessica screamed at the top of her lungs. “Stay away from her couch! Sam, listen to—”

  “What the hell is that?” Raye’s voice came from the far corner of the room. Stripped of all coquetry, it sounded almost ugly. “That’s not a—”

  “It’s just Jess’s cat, here in this bag. Fisher didn’t tell you? I’ve been bringing her in, thought maybe she could reach Jess.”

  “Jessica’s cat? But…” Raye laughed incredulously. “But—”

  “Let’s get out of here!” Jessica yowled. “Now, Sam. Please! Now!”

  “Hey!” Sam dropped to his heels. “Hey, what’s with you, you freaking fur-ball?” He curled a finger into a breathing hole and waggled it comfortingly. “Don’t know what’s gotten into her. She’s been crazy off and on all day— nearly took my ear off a while back. Do cats ever get PMS?”

  Jessica bit him.

  “Yowch! Okay, okay, joke in very poor taste, you grouch. It’s been a long day. Would you hush?”

  “What color is that cat?” Raye demanded.

  “She’s…” Sam paused. “She’s Jessica’s cat.”

  “If you say so, but what color—” Raye stopped.

  “That’s right,” Jessica yelled. “If you were my best friend, you’d know what color my cat was, wouldn’t you?”

  “I mean…I guess I’m just surprised,” Raye blurted. “I thought Jessica’s cat…burned. I don’t know why I assumed …” Her laugh was shaky.

  “Apparently she was outside when the fire started. Hush, now. Hush your cat mouth, babe. We’re in enough trouble around here as it is.” He nudged the bag with his toe. “Getting back to us, Raye, when do you want to schedule this mandatory headshrink? I know you said to stop by after hours, but it’s pretty late.”

  “It is, but since they won’t let you back on the ward till I’ve done my dirty work…” She laughed. “You know, that cat’s really rattled me. I haven’t liked cats since my mother locked me overnight in a closet with one.”

  Sam swore under his breath and took a step toward her. “Raye!” He stopped. “Oh, you’re kidding…aren’t you?”

  “Joke,” she agreed, “also in poor taste. File it under stupid shrink jokes. All the same, I’ve never cared for cats. They’re so…so sneaky. What I was going to say is, she’s making me so nervous, why don’t we go back to my office? If we shut both doors, we won’t hear her. And then there’s this bottle of scotch that lives in my desk. What do you bet we can make this session just about…painless?”

  “No!” Jessica wailed, but the door to the back rooms was already swinging shut behind them.

  It took her three minutes and two more nails to fight her way free of the bag. Bounding to the door to the inner rooms, she hunkered down, slipped her upturned paws be. neath it as she’d seen Cattoo do, flexed her claws, then pulled. Oof! The door creaked, but it didn’t budge. The times Cattoo had managed this trick, the door had been slightly ajar. Oof! Another nail broke.

  All right, all right, all right, stay calm.

  How could she stay calm? He’d take a drink—he’d had that kind of day—and Sam had no head for drink. If Raye coaxed two scotches down him…Jessica shivered. Lower his inhibitions, that’s what she’s up to. And then a sympathetic chat, perhaps a spot of hypnotism if Sam proved suggestible—and he very well might, brains were no protection. And then?

  She knew what then. Oh, Sam, remember that you love me.

  But for a man, love wasn’t necessarily a guard against sex with another woman. The others. Raye had seduced had loved their wives, too, yet that hadn’t saved them. And Sam wasn’t married, after all. And neither was Jessica available. If you touch him, I swear I’ll scratch your eyes out.

  Stay calm, stay calm. Whatever was happening down in that drowning blue room she couldn’t stop or change. Sam was flying solo—she flinched at the image. But in the meantime, there was the computer.

  Tiffany had again left the glass slider open and the door to the inner hall closed. This time she’d forgotten to switch off the cubicle’s lights. Within minutes, Jessica sat reading the main menu, h
er tail swishing like a metronome. E-mail, e-mail, how do I access e-mail? She’d never been interested enough in the so-called information highway to learn more than a few of its on-ramps and exits, all leading to medical data bases or word-processing functions she needed as a doctor. Drop her down in a different system of software entirely, and she was as good as lost, driving aimlessly along, praying the right signpost would come into view before she ran out of gas, or the Mack truck that was Raye Talbot smashed her flat.

  That looks like—Nooo—Is that? Maybe? Here goes nothing! “Yesss!” she cried as a familiar command appeared on the screen. Enter your password.

  Password, password, obviously it wanted the user’s password. What word would Tiffany choose? Fingernail? Bubblegum? MTV? Wait a minute. Jessica sat back. Why would Tiffany use e-mail? I swear she’d have trouble handling a three-button phone system. She’s probably scheduling appointments, and she might be doing Raye’s billing, though I’d be darned if I’d let her handle mine.

  Therefore, if anyone was using the e-mail functions on this computer, it must be Raye. So this would be Raye’s secret password, chosen by same. Pass, pass, let me pass, you wolf…Wolf! She typed the word in—weoplf—blast these paws! She deleted and typed more slowly, clicking her teeth with frustration as she eked out each letter. wolf

  Invalid password, the computer informed her with an electronic snigger,

  sociopath?

  Invalid.

  Then try it backward—

  htapoicos?

  Invalid.

  Not since her residency days on her rotations in surgery had she felt such pressure—the clock ticking, life dripping, her knife sliding through muscle and flesh, and all the while the need to stay calm, to think coolly and objectively, all emotions ruthlessly suppressed to the moment’s need. Not Annette, not shrink, not stone, not killer, not boat, not bitch. I haven’t a clue to her real birthdate, who she is, what she is…

  Adventuress! She knew, even as she twisted her paw to type it out.

  The screen contracted to a point of light, then expanded—and Jessica blinked at a page full of print, not a blank screen waiting to accept an e-mail message. Some other document file. A dead end on the info highway, no route from here to Sam’s mailbox. She let out a squall of despair, reached to hit the quit key, saw the word bisexual, and paused.