A Doctor's Watch

by Taylor, Vickie

  On second thought, that was the second-to-last thing she needed. The last thing she needed was a doctor who was more interested in getting inside her body than inside her head.

  Slumping down into the squeaky chair behind his desk, he lifted a pencil from the blotter and twirled it in his fingers.

  One more day, he told himself. Barring a major breakdown before then, Mia would be released tomorrow. Even if he did suspect she was just telling him what he wanted to hear, her seventy-two-hour observation period ended without incident. He would recommend some ongoing counseling—with a different physician. He wouldn’t see her again.

  He’d lost his flipping mind.

  Chuck Campbell shrugged, stretched against the back of his desk chair and cracked his sugar-free gum. He’d like to have the real stuff, but his dentist would give him hell if he came in with another cavity.

  His shift had ended two hours ago, yet here he sat pecking away at the computer. He had to admit, he understood what intrigued Ty about Mia Serrat—and he didn’t mean her looks, although they were plenty intriguing. Despite Ty’s denial, Chuck didn’t doubt that his old friend had noticed that, too.

  She had a way of roping a man into her story, making it sound plausible.

  It would probably turn out to be a wild-goose chase, just like he’d accused Ty of setting up, but what the hell. His wife was at one of those ladies’ parties tonight, Tupperware or some such. He had a few hours to kill.

  Maybe he’d just poke around a little more. See if someone out there really did have reason to want Mia Serrat dead.

  Chapter 7

  “Do you have your recommendation?” The Kaiser spoke without looking up from the yellow pad he was jotting notes on with hard, slashing strokes. The mahogany desk he sat behind was as dark as the man’s expression. Everything in Karl Serrat’s office was dark.

  Ty pushed the folder across the desk, but Karl didn’t look interested. Odd, since the patient file in question belonged to his own niece. Soon she would have completed her seventy-two hours of observation. It was decision time.

  “Well, go ahead, then.”

  “Sir?”

  “Your recommendation, Doctor.” He swirled his pen in the air. “Let’s hear it.”

  “I recommend she be released, sir.”

  Finally Karl Serrat looked up, met Ty’s gaze with eyes deep-set in a square face wrinkled by time. “You’re sure about that?”

  “I’m sure,” he said.

  “She has a young son, you know.”

  “Todd. He’s all she talks about.”

  “If you’re wrong, you’re putting them both in jeopardy.”

  Ty swallowed hard. He realized that. Still the bastard had to point that out, knowing Ty’s history. As if it wasn’t enough that a terrific young woman’s life—not to mention his career—was at stake. And to up the stakes even more, Karl cast a pointed look at Ty’s right forearm. The one with the scars.

  Fury burned in Ty’s chest. “I realize that,” he said tightly. “Of course I recommend continued supervision. She should be under the care of a good therapist, someone to keep an eye on her.”

  Karl returned his attention to his legal pad. “Good, see that you do.”

  Huh?

  “Do what?”

  Karl looked over his glasses at Ty without raising his head. “Keep an eye on her.”

  Ty’s stomach dropped. “Me?”

  “Eternal is a small town. There aren’t exactly doctors with your qualifications on every street corner.”

  Was that a compliment?

  “Are you saying you aren’t willing to continue her treatment?”

  Oh, hell. Now what? Tell the Kaiser that he wasn’t qualified to treat his niece because he wanted to jump her bones?

  Buck up, Hansen. You’re supposed to be a professional.

  “No, of course not.”

  “Good. Recommendation approved. File the release paperwork.”

  Dismissed, Ty shuffled off down the hall to break the news to Mia.

  “Pack your bag, you’re going home,” he told her.

  She literally jumped for joy, spinning in the air and clapping her hands. When she finally came down, she was breathless. It was very becoming.

  “My bag is already packed. I just need to call Nana to come pick me up.”

  “Whoa there.” He checked his watch. “The court order was for seventy-two hours of observation. Technically that’s not up until 5:00 p.m. You’ve got two and a half more hours.”

  The joy ran out of her like bathwater down the drain. “Five o’clock? But Todd’s school is having its Christmas pageant today. He’s in the play. It starts at three.”

  Crap.

  He had to do this by the book. “I’m sorry.”

  “But—”

  The pain instilled in the single word tore at him, but he steeled himself. He was her doctor, not her friend. “The order was signed by a judge, Mia. I have to follow it.”

  She took a deep breath, her head bowed. When she raised it, her green eyes blazed. “Fine. I have an idea. You take me to the pageant.”

  “Mia, I can’t—”

  “Seventy-two hours of observation, the order said. You’re the primary observer. You can observe me there as well as here.”

  He rocked back on his heels. Technically she was correct. He had the authority to take her off the grounds if he deemed it beneficial to her mental health, and there was no doubt that being present for her son’s pageant would do worlds of good for her psychologically.

  Right back between the rock and the hard place.

  He nodded and she beat him to the door, packed bag in hand.

  They got to Bridge Elementary just as the choir’s first carol ended, but found seats and settled in just in time for a screeching first-grade rendition of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.”

  Mia tried not to wince as she looked over at Ty to see if he’d stuck his fingers in his ears to save his hearing yet.

  She felt bad for dragging him here. He didn’t wear a wedding ring. She assumed he didn’t have kids, although she didn’t have any facts other than there hadn’t been any pictures on his desk to base that assumption on. Bachelors didn’t tend to be big on kiddy functions. He really was a good sport for bringing her, even if it was his fault for nitpicking the whole seventy-two-hour observation thing to begin with.

  He leaned over and yelled in her ear to be heard over the din. “I thought you said this was a play.”

  “It’s a pageant. There’s singing and dancing and a play.”

  “Oh.” He smiled stiffly and winced when the soprano soloist hit a particularly painful note. “Great.”

  Obviously not great, but he gamely turned his attention back to the stage anyway.

  Mia scanned the crowd, and found Nana and Citria on the other side of the auditorium with pretty much the same expression as Ty’s on their faces. She tried to catch their attention by waving, but got a gruff “Down in front!” from the large man with the camcorder behind her.

  The room was alight with the smiles and beaming faces of proud parents. Flashes popped and cameras whirred. Fingers jumped up and pointed as moms and dads cried out, “There’s Jimmy,” or “Bobby,” or “Katie.”

  Mia could hardly wait her turn. The play was last on the program, and though she enjoyed all the kids’ performances, she couldn’t wait to see her son.

  More importantly, she couldn’t wait for him to see her. To know that she hadn’t let him down. That she’d kept her promise, was here to see him. That she was home.

  Nervous energy vibrated in her veins. Her foot bounced on the floor and her hands gripped the arms of her chair with enough force to leave dents.

  After what seemed an eternity, the dancing swans left the stage, the choir came back on, but stayed half to each side. The house lights dimmed, and the choir began butchering the theme to “Frosty the Snowman” as the curtain opened. Todd was playing the magician who lost the top hat that brought Frosty to life
. She’d helped him learn his lines.

  “There he is!” Mia moved her death grip from the arm of the chair to Ty’s arm, pointing with her other hand.

  How handsome he looked in his black pants, crisp white shirt and black jacket with tails. She and Nana had come up with the idea of adding tails to his Sunday suit to make it look more like a tuxedo themselves. They did add an air of magical mystery to his costume!

  The choir was still singing. The play hadn’t started yet, but the stage lights were slowly coming up. Once they did, Mia knew Todd would be blinded, unable to see her in the crowd.

  She strained upward, not quite standing, but trying to make herself taller. He was scanning the crowd, probably looking for Nana. If he’d just turn this way a little farther…

  “Hey lady, down in front!” the man behind gruffed again.

  She threw a look over her shoulder at him. “Just a second. That’s my son! The magician.”

  “Well whoop-dee-do-la. That’s my daughter, in the rabbit suit, and you’re blocking my shot.” He gestured at her with the digital camera in his hand.

  She shrank down in her seat another inch, but still strained to catch Todd’s eye. The choir fell silent. It was about to begin when he finally scanned her area.

  She waved frantically, her heart throwing itself into its rhythm with the same joyful exuberance with which the first-grade choir had belted out their tunes.

  She knew the moment her son recognized her, and her heart went still. Frozen.

  Instead of the happiness she longed to see on his face when he realized she was there, his features pinched. His lips clamped shut and his eyes went narrow.

  Mad.

  His little hands clenched at his sides.

  The crowd rustled restlessly in their seats, waiting for the play to begin. Todd had the first lines.

  A teacher finally leaned over the edge of the stage and whispered something to him, probably thinking he’d forgotten his lines, but Todd’s gaze never wavered from hers. It was as if he were sending her a message with a look.

  You’re not welcome here.

  And her frozen heart shattered.

  Ty watched Mia’s expression change from one of motherly pride and the purest joy he’d ever seen to horror. Before he could ask what was wrong, Todd threw his top hat down and ran off the back of the stage, fumbling for a moment to find the break in the curtain.

  Mia was after him before the crowd could gasp, and Ty was out of his seat and on her heels a heartbeat after that.

  “Todd?” Mia called out backstage. “Todd, please!”

  Both of them checked behind doors and down hallways, but there was no sign of the kid.

  A bad feeling weighed on Ty’s shoulders.

  Mia ran down a corridor that led to the gymnasium. “Todd!” Her voice grew more frantic each time she called her son’s name. She stopped at the intersection of two hallways, looking right.

  Off to the left, Ty heard the slap of small footsteps, running. He tugged on the sleeve of Mia’s shirt. “This way.”

  A door slammed, and they followed the sound to the boys’ locker room. Mia charged through without even slowing down. The room smelled of bleach and socks, sweat and mildew.

  It wasn’t hard to find Todd. All they had to do was follow the sniffles.

  Against the cold orange tile in a corner of the shower room, Mia’s son huddled pitifully, his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs.

  Mia went to him, but slowed when he visibly drew back and pressed his face tighter against his knees.

  She crouched in front of him, not touching him, but her hand hovered in the air above his head. “Todd, baby, what’s wrong?”

  He lifted his head. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot. Tear tracks shone on his cheeks.

  “Why did you come? You made me mess up in front of everybody.”

  “Todd, I came to see you. I wouldn’t miss your—”

  “You ruined it!” he shouted, practically spitting in his vehemence. “You ruined everything, just like you always do!”

  Just as the kid finished, two more pairs of footsteps padded across the shower floor. Ty glanced over his shoulder to see Citria and Nana Serrat. When Todd saw them, he scrambled to his feet, then, taking a wide berth around Mia, flung himself into his grandmother’s arms.

  Mia rose on wobbly legs. Pain carved deep grooves around her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  Todd seemed not to hear her. “I wanna go home, Nana.” He buried his cheek against her bosom. “Please. I wanna go home with you.”

  Nana Serrat kissed his forehead and stroked his hair. “It’s all right, baby. I’ll take you home.”

  Misty-eyed herself, the older woman gave Mia an apologetic look. When she turned to shuffle out of the locker room with Todd glued beneath her arm, Mia started to follow.

  Ty held her back by the elbow.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Let him go, Mia.”

  “Let him go? He’s upset. He needs me.”

  He tightened his grip on her arm when she tried to pull away. “He needs some time to cool off, and to process the fact that you’re back. You just surprised him is all.”

  “I thought he’d be happy to see me,” she choked.

  “He didn’t know when you were coming home—probably had some doubts whether you would ever come back at all. We should have called and let him know we would be here.”

  Ty blasted himself mentally for not thinking of that two hours ago, and sighed. “He just wasn’t ready. He was scared. Give him some time. He’ll work it out.”

  “Oh, now you’re Dr. Spock, too?”

  “I know a thing or two about little boys that have been hurt by their mothers, yeah,” he spat back just as sharply.

  Mia didn’t look convinced, but she quit struggling to get away.

  “Let your mother-in-law take him home, put him to bed. I’ll drive you when you’re ready.”

  At the other end of the locker room, Citria opened the door for Nana, throwing a harsh look back over her shoulder at Mia.

  If Ty ever had to describe a broken woman, the vision of Mia Serrat watching her son walk away from her, held under his grandmother’s arm like a baby bird under a wing, would be an image that forever came to mind.

  Chapter 8

  Mia sat at the kitchen table with both hands wrapped around a full mug of green tea that had gone stone-cold, untouched. The chill of the porcelain leached into her veins, into her throat.

  Todd’s outburst played over and over in her mind like a recording on continuous loop. Her fingers trembled. She tightened her grip on the mug.

  Nana appeared in the doorway wearing a blue flannel robe and slippers. “He finally cried himself to sleep,” she said. The red rims around her eyes said she’d shed more than a few tears herself tonight.

  “Thank you, Nana,” Mia said.

  Nana looked from Mia to the space behind her, where she knew Ty still stood, though he hadn’t made a sound, or moved a muscle as far as Mia knew, in the last hour. “Good night, then.”

  “Good night.”

  Mia made no attempt to get up and take herself to bed. She doubted her legs would hold her.

  “Good night,” Ty added.

  Nana ambled out of the kitchen looking a century older than she had just three days ago.

  “It’s late,” Mia said without turning to her guest once her mother-in-law had gone. “What are you still doing here?”

  “Waiting for you to offer me some tea,” Ty deadpanned.

  She unwrapped her stiff fingers from the ceramic and slid her mug down the table. He picked it up, set it in the microwave and set the oven for ninety seconds. When the timer dinged, he pulled the mug out and slid it back to her.

  “I’ll make my own, thanks.”

  He had a steaming mug in his hands by the time she worked up the courage to look at him. “So, having second thoughts about releasing me from custody?”

  His lips pursed t
houghtfully. “No.”

  “Liar. You’d be home in bed by now if you weren’t.”

  He pulled up a chair and sat next to her. Their knees bumped as he scooted himself closer. “You’re pretty upset.”

  “Ha!” The bitter laugh escaped before she could catch herself. “I think I have good reason.”

  “Yep,” he agreed. “That’s why I’m still here.”

  Once again she managed to hold back the tears that had been rising all night. “Just because I’m upset doesn’t mean I’m thinking about hurting myself.”

  “Good.”

  A tremor started in her shoulders and radiated outward until her whole body shook. Her face crumpled. “My son said he hates me.”

  “Yeah, little bastard knew exactly which button to push, didn’t he?”

  Her back instantly stiffened. “Stop it! He’s my son.”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Just making a point. And getting mad is a lot better than getting all weepy, isn’t it?”

  She did feel stronger, all of a sudden. “I guess.”

  “Kids are a lot more tuned in to the adults around them than most people realize. They know our weak spots, and when they’re hurting, they tend to lash out.”

  Mia sighed and sipped her reheated tea. “You really are Dr. Spock.”

  “Aw, come on. I’m a lot better looking than that old geezer.”

  Yes, he was. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

  “So what do I do now? How do I get him back?”

  “I don’t think there is anything you can do to “get” him back. You have to wait for him to come to you. Just be there. He’ll let you know when he’s ready.”

  “Just be there. In other words, don’t kill myself.”

  “Don’t read more into my words than I meant.”

  She took another sip of tea and put the mug down. “Sorry. I’m still pretty raw tonight.”

  Todd’s words still echoed in her head, though the accusations were quieter now. She suspected she’d be hearing his enraged cries in her head for a long, long time.