Shadow of Death

by Patricia Gussin

  The closed compartment, the horrible chamber in her mind that contained violence and darkness: killing Johnny Diggs, even though in self-defense; grabbing a bottle of Dilaudid off a pharmacy cart. Someday she’d be caught, wouldn’t she? They kept such tight restrictions on narcotics. Someday there’d be an investigation, and she’d be found out. She’d end up in prison, or at the very least, barred forever from practicing medicine. She tried to keep this chamber tightly closed, and only when she was physically and mentally exhausted did her efforts fail and the nightmares break through her defenses. Each time, Laura ended up in jail, separated from her children and her bitter, horrified husband. Poor Steve. Her nightmares didn’t even wake him up anymore.

  A third compartment: David. She rarely allowed herself to open it, but when she did, she could actually hear his voice, feel his every sensuous touch. She found herself letting this compartment open up that one hour a week when Steve watched the kids so she could attend Mass at the Church of the Precious Blood. Sacrilegious, she supposed. But she could only hope that God would forgive her as she relived every detail of her night with David. At the closing hymn, Laura clamped shut that forbidden compartment and left the church to return to her family. It gave her comfort that David had once been a Catholic.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  SEPTEMBER 1970

  Patrick David Nelson arrived right on schedule at City Hospital. It was a relatively uneventful delivery in comparison to his twin sisters’. Laura was on a psychiatric rotation, meaning no night call, and she’d been uncommonly relaxed.

  When her three best friends organized a catered dinner on her last night on the maternity ward, Laura was delighted. She’d just finished breastfeeding when Rosie arrived, followed by Susan, both with baby gifts galore. In spite of the stress in all their lives, tonight was a night for celebration. Would Laura’s friends notice the hint of hazel flecks in her baby’s eyes? Steve’s eyes were a light blue and hers were green, but David’s were brown with those same distinctive hazel flecks. It would be some time before she could tell if Patrick’s eyes would lose the blueness common to newborns, and that was when those brown hues that seemed so obvious to her now might raise questions. Also, all the other children had had fuzzy blonde hair as infants. Patrick had lots of hair, too, but his was chestnut brown.

  Vicky arrived last, just as trays laden with an array of scrumptious-looking food were wheeled into the narrow hospital room.

  “You just missed little Patrick,” Rosie announced as Vicky breezed into the room.

  “He’s so adorable,” Susan added, shaking her head. “But how are you going to manage one more baby, Laura?”

  Laura just laughed. “Vicky, I just want you to know, my baby has lots of hair.”

  “Alecia’s hair is still in the fuzzy phase,” Vicky said, reaching into her purse for a stack of pictures of her one-year-old daughter, “but she’s madly adorable anyway.”

  “What do you do, hire a photographer to follow the baby around all day?” Rosie laughed.

  “Very funny. I guess Raymond goes a little crazy with the camera,” Vicky grinned. “Oh, speaking of Raymond, he unloaded a juicy tidbit of gossip at dinner last night.”

  “And?” Rosie encouraged. Vicky and Raymond were socially connected. Rosie liked to say that Vicky’s news often predated the Detroit Free Press.

  “Well, girls, it seems quite a scandal is developing out in California. You remember Ruth Davis, Raymond’s law partner?” Vicky paused for effect. “Well, she’s come out of the woods, or the closet, or whatever you call it. She’s a lesbian.”

  “Really? That must have caused quite a stir in that conservative firm,” Susan remarked.

  “It did. But get this. Her lover is none other than Cynthia Monroe! Yes, Dr. Monroe’s wife. Now Ruth has moved to California to be with Cynthia.”

  “Mama mia,” Rosie interrupted, “that’s unbelievable.”

  “Cripes,” Susan said. “Where does that leave Dr. Monroe?”

  Laura didn’t say a word.

  “On his own,” Vicky continued. “Raymond had offered to take some paperwork for Ruth to sign since he was going to California. Anyway, he couldn’t get her on the phone, so he went to the address she’d given the firm, and Cynthia Monroe actually answered the door.”

  “On his own?” Laura whispered so low that no one heard her.

  “Well, Ruth told Raymond outright that she was living there with Cynthia. Things hadn’t worked out in California for Cynthia with her husband. He moved out to some condo or apartment or something, and then Ruth moved in with her.”

  “How cozy,” Rosie said, swallowing the last of her Vernor’s ginger ale.

  “I have to say my husband is not very perceptive.” Vicky was enjoying herself. “He didn’t think anything of it. He just left the paperwork for Ruth’s signature and said good-bye. But by the time Raymond got back to his hotel, there was a message from Ruth saying that she had to talk to him.”

  “Get to the point, will you?” Rosie demanded between bites of smoked salmon.

  “Hey, these little round black things, very tasty,” Susan cut in.

  “The little round black things are caviar,” Vicky explained. “Have a little vodka with it.”

  Rosie’s pager went off, interrupting the chatter. “Damn, gotta go to the delivery room,” she announced, standing up. “I hate obstetrics. No offense, girls, but I’m never having kids, it’s just not for me. Vick, finish the story so I can answer this page.”

  “Well, here’s the bottom line, girls. They met for dinner, and Ruth told Raymond that she was a lesbian. That she and Cynthia were ‘involved’. That was the word she used.”

  Rosie sat back down.

  “It’s hard to believe,” Susan said. “Cynthia Monroe?”

  “As you can imagine, Raymond’s firm wants no hint of scandal. So girls, not a word of this outside this room. I’m only telling you since we all know Dr. Monroe so well.”

  “Whew!” Rosie got up. “Later, girls, I gotta go pop a baby out.”

  Laura arranged the cutlery on her tray, not looking up as three sets of eyes observed her with curiosity.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  DECEMBER 1970

  By December, Laura Nelson, the twenty-six-year-old senior medical student, and Stacy Jones, the seventeen-year-old high school senior, were quite close. The ominous cloud of Snake Rogers darkening their lives had dissipated. Laura would drive over to St. Mary-of-the-Woods Academy and pick up Stacy about once a month. They’d have dinner, usually at a nearby Chinese restaurant, or sometimes they’d go for pizza or pasta, but never once had Stacy returned to the Nelson home on Puritan. Occasionally Laura would bring Mikey and Kevin, and sometimes they’d include Sharon, Stacy’s younger sister, who was now a freshman at the Academy. But usually it was just the two of them, enjoying each other’s company away from the stress of the hospital and kids for Laura, and the Academy’s advanced placement classes for Stacy. Tonight, they were eating at Café Italiano.

  Stacy had maintained a near perfect grade point average during her years at St. Mary’s. There was little doubt she’d receive a college scholarship, and Stacy and Laura talked at length about the opportunities ahead. Much to Laura’s delight, Stacy was still interested in med school. They talked of college options, and they talked about racial issues, trying to come to grips with the prejudices that were everywhere. Today, a Thursday in early December, they talked about the future.

  “Laura, you know I’ll really miss you after you graduate.”

  Laura smiled. “Hey, maybe you’ll end up in Florida when I’m an intern there. We’re going down this year for Christmas. Finally the kids will get to spend time with their grandparents.”

  Laura counted the days until she left for Florida. Snake would not be out of jail for 18 months, and every day she began to feel less scared that the Dilaudid that she’d given him would be traced to her. If only Stacy and her sisters could get out of Detroit too.

&nb
sp; “That’s great. I did include University of Miami on my list of applications,” Stacy said.

  “Well, I’m betting on University of Michigan for sure, with a good shot at Harvard and Georgetown. And what were the others we talked about?”

  “Cornell, UCLA, and Case Western Reserve,” Stacy said.

  Laura took a bite of her primavera. “You’ll have lots of choices, Stacy.”

  “I hope so. Mama will pressure me to go to Harvard or Cornell if I get in, but I’m leaning toward U of M so I can be close to home.”

  “C’mon now, we’ve talked about this before. You need to move on, get more experience, more exposure,” Laura counseled. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but you need to push yourself. Put Harvard, Georgetown, and Cornell as priority choices and the others as back-ups, okay?”

  Stacy smiled. “Okay, Doctor Laura. You know, I feel that I have a real advantage over the other girls because of you. The counselors at the school are okay, but you know exactly what I need to do. Common sense stuff.”

  They laughed. “I don’t know about that. But I do know that you’re talented and that it’s you, nobody else, who must set your course. You’ll do so much for your family and yourself if you push yourself hard enough. Look at the impact you’ve already had on your sisters. They want to be just like you.”

  Stacy beamed. “I’m so proud of them. The nuns were telling me just yesterday how well Sharon was doing. It’s tough to be one of only two black girls in a class of fifty.”

  “I’m sure that’s true,” Laura answered.

  “How many black girls in your med school class?”

  “Just one out of 150 students. She’s my best friend. But you know what, Susan is tough.”

  “Not surprising if she comes from a neighborhood like mine, right?”

  “At least Sharon’s had you as a role model. By the way, Steve tells me your mom is planning to move.”

  “She is so excited about it! The girls are a little scared, especially Rachel. She’s twelve, and our neighborhood is the only one she’s ever known.”

  “But the violence is still there, it’s dangerous to stay.”

  “I know. Mama told me that she’s almost saved enough to put a down payment on a house out in the northwest, maybe somewhere around where you live. The sooner, the better. We all thought that things would get better after they cleaned up from the riots and put up some new buildings, but things only got worse and worse. Nobody I know from school goes downtown to shop or to concerts or anything.”

  “It’s just so sad,” Laura said slowly, “to see a city die. It’s like those riots beat the life right out of it.”

  “And out of some people, too,” Stacy added.

  “It’s Christmas Eve and eighty-five degrees. Doesn’t that seem weird?” Laura said to Steve as they sat soaking in the Florida sun, wriggling their toes in the warm white sand of Anna Maria Island. The gulf was calm and the water reflected the glorious blue of the sky. “Palm trees and beaches instead of ice and snow.”

  The children played among the lapping waves as Mikey recruited help for his sand castle.

  “Honey, are you really okay with moving down here?” Laura asked. “My interviews went well, and I think I’ll get matched to my first internship choice. Matter of fact, Tampa was pushing me to commit right away.”

  “Whatever’s best. You decide.”

  “But what about you? I feel so selfish. Moving to Florida, close to my parents. What are you going to do?”

  “Find a job.”

  “You think it’ll be that easy?”

  “They need social workers everywhere, right? Besides, I can’t wait to get out of Detroit, even though I actually think I did some good. Leona Rogers and a few others, was proof of that.” He paused. “She was like my gauge. If I could help her navigate the system, I knew I was on the right track. And she’s okay, even though that Snake kid of hers is in jail. Some of the others are more than okay, so I’m okay too. I’m not worried about work. Matter of fact I was thinking about going into something else, my old major, communications, maybe.”

  Laura cringed at the mention of Leona’s son. She hadn’t even heard Steve’s last remark. She just had to get out of Detroit while he was still in jail. Once she was far away from that city, all her nightmares would surely cease.

  “Do you mind that we’ll be so far from your parents?”

  “My parents?” Steve shot a sidewise look at his wife. “Are you kidding? How often do we see them anyway? It’s your parents who’ll help us out with the kids.”

  Steve pointed to the baby gurgling in the portable crib they’d taken to the beach. “Look at the little one. He’s going to love growing up in Florida.” Steve leaned over and kissed Laura again before pulling himself up and out of the beach chair. “Kevin, come on over here. Let’s help your brother build a big sand castle!”

  Once they moved to Florida everything would be different. She would make a point to spend more time with Steve. Go out with him without the kids on a regular basis. She marveled that something had happened to Steve after Patrick was born. Even though he had not been pleased with her last pregnancy, he ended up paying more attention to her youngest son than he had to any of the kids. It was like Patrick was a new lease on life.

  Laura smiled as Kevin came running over to grab the red pail that Steve held out. Such a charming child that strangers would come up just to pat his curly head. He adored the attention so much he was on the verge of being quite spoiled, but Laura didn’t mind. He was in that deprived middle child position. Trying to keep up with six-year-old Mikey was hopeless, and his younger twin sisters were also tough competition, and now there was Patrick. She watched contentedly as Kevin happily filled the pail with the powdery sand, and Nicole rushed to bully her way into the center of the boys. That left Natalie alone along the shore until she toddled over to the empty chair beside Laura, who scooped her into her arms. If only Steve could conquer his demons and allow himself to open his heart to Natalie and Nicole. As the months passed, Steve’s detachment from them was getting more and more noticeable. All due to that fateful day when a pair of ten-year-old twin boys squabbled over their dog.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  SUNDAY, MAY 30, 1971

  Graduation day. The culmination of four years of grueling effort. Laura Nelson, graduating with honors, was near the top of her class.

  A perfect Michigan spring day, the sun bright, the air a gentle warm. The university garden would be resplendent with magnificent color, a haven of beauty within the tumultuous inner city; the garden a rare place of tranquility among the remains of the burntout, still ravaged surroundings. The ceremonies would take place outside under a big white tent with the usual pomp and circumstance: the doctoral robes with the traditional hoods that displayed the rich green school color, the recitation of the Hippocratic Oath, the students’ friends and family congratulating them.

  At the Nelson’s everyone had finally arrived: Laura’s parents; both siblings, Ted and Janet; and even Steve’s parents. Thanks to her mother and sister, all five Nelson children were dressed and ready to go. This gave her a few moments alone. For Laura the impossible had been accomplished. Four years. Three babies. The internship of her choice. Her dream was coming true. By this afternoon she would be a physician. So why did she feel so unsettled? So horribly incomplete? In the midst of the gaiety in the Nelson household, Laura felt as if her world was falling apart.

  She would see David today, that was it.

  David would be the keynote speaker at graduation. He was also scheduled to receive an honorary doctoral degree. For the past two weeks, Laura had known she would see him, and she had tried to suppress the swirl of emotions, to bury them deep down somewhere. Until now, she’d succeeded. As she stood in her bedroom preparing to change into her graduation outfit, her feelings collided violently. She was deeply torn by a desire to see him alone, if only for a few minutes, and by an absolute dedication to her family on this special day.

/>   Thankfully, there were enough relatives around to handle and dress the children. Everyone was bustling about trying to help. Laura overheard both her mother and her mother-in-law asking Steve if she was okay. They were concerned that she seemed so distant, and as her mother put it, so “un-Laura.”

  “Just exhausted,” Steve answered. “What with final exams and parties and getting ready to move.” The others murmured in agreement, though the concerned expression on Peg Whalen’s face belied her mute acceptance.

  Laura sat at the edge of her bed. Over the past year, she’d received a bulletin from Stanford in her mail slot each week. Tucked inside the back cover was always a single typed page: David’s schedule. If he was to be away from Palo Alto, his itinerary was also included. Nothing more, except for his signature at the bottom. So Laura had always known just where David was and how to contact him. Sometimes the longing to do so had been so strong that her fingers started dialing.

  She had never completed a call. They had not spoken since that day at Sinai Hospital, but Laura knew the silence must break between them today. It was only through Vicky that Laura knew of his separation from Cynthia. What would he say when they saw each other face-to-face? In public, she reminded herself, not in private.

  Would his wife be there with him? She didn’t know. She hoped not. She knew they were separated. Yet that was not public knowledge in Detroit, so she might come just to deter rumors. Detroit’s socialites would expect her to appear beside her husband as he delivered the keynote graduation speech, wouldn’t they? No, Laura told herself. David would not allow her to be with him today. Not today.

  “We’re going to be late!” Steve called. With a slight start, she pushed her thoughts into the chasm inside her, rose from the bed, and ran a brush through her hair.

  “I’ll be ready in a minute,” she called back, as much to herself as to Steve.