He wasn’t there when I woke up again. There was so much activity around me that I couldn’t have slept much longer anyway. Bandages were being changed and IV bags replaced. The blood pressure monitor was annoying. Maybe it was because of my head injury, but the beeps sounded louder. I wanted to rip everything off, bandages included, and detach anything I could. Despite my leg and other injuries, I thought I could hobble out. As my frustration grew, I could feel myself getting angrier.
When they were finished, a new nurse arrived, bringing me some soft-boiled eggs to eat. I saw her name was Lila Rubin. She was much younger than the first nurse, but she seemed quite capable and efficient. Maybe it was her youth or simply the positive energy I felt coming from her, but I thought I could trust her more. I calmed myself and then looked around as much of the area outside of mine as I could.
‘Is the gentleman visiting me still here?’ I asked. I didn’t think I had slept that long and imagined he had to leave my bedside when they began to do their work on me.
‘No,’ she said. Then she smiled and asked, ‘Do you mean your husband?’
‘No,’ I said.
‘Oh, because he did stop by this morning.’
‘This morning? It’s morning?’
‘It’s morning,’ she said, smiling. ‘You were asleep and he didn’t want to wake you. He said to tell you he would come by on his lunch hour. Maybe you were aware of his presence. You know, it’s a kind of semi-conscious state. Nothing to be alarmed about,’ she added. ‘People can be that way even without a head injury.’
‘No, I don’t mean him. I meant someone else.’
She kept her smile, but I could see the wheels turning. I hadn’t said brother or referred to Lancaster in any way that might suggest he was a relative. Without asking anything more, she helped me start to feed myself. I asked her for some bacon and toast. She said it was a good sign that my appetite had returned, but for now I was still on soft food. She offered some Jell-O. I took it because there was nothing else.
Now that I was awake and beginning to feel better, time seemed to drip minutes and hours at the rate the drops were coming out of the IV bag. I could almost time my heartbeats to it. The doctors returned, which was my only distraction. I hesitate to say amusement, even though they seemed so pleased with how I was reacting and laughed at some of my complaints. I was told the only reason I was being kept in ICU now was room availability. The moment one was free, I would be moved.
On his lunch hour, Ronnie arrived. He looked like someone who had just wandered in off the street. His face had that vague, distracted-by-something-else kind of look he could take on in the middle of a conversation I might be having with him. The sight of me pitched up in the bed a bit more had the effect of someone snapping fingers right in front of his face. His eyes brightened and he hurried over to kiss my cheek and to pull a chair close to the bed.
‘They’re getting ready to move you in a little while,’ he said. ‘You’ll have a television and a phone. Let me know what magazines you’d like me to bring after work.’
‘I don’t want any magazines and don’t let anyone know I have a phone,’ I warned.
‘No one?’
‘My father, your parents and Kelly, of course, but no one else. I don’t want to entertain my vapid friends with details I can’t remember.’
He nodded.
‘Maybe you should try to remember.’
‘Maybe I should try?’
‘I mean really make an effort. One of the guys at the company, Tony Woods, had a cousin who suffered temporary amnesia after falling off a roof. He remembered nothing about falling; he didn’t even remember being on the roof. His psych-iatrist had him go back in time and begin recalling earlier things as a way to bring him to the present. He said it worked.’
‘Psychiatrist? He needed a psychiatrist for that?’
‘It was a complicated situation. I had the impression that Tony’s cousin tried to kill himself, so after he was made to recall what had happened, they could go after the causes of his depression.’
‘You think that was what I did – try to kill myself by deliberately getting hit by a truck?’
He raised his hands. ‘Why should I? Although there are plenty of stories out there about people who missed some signals and didn’t see someone they were close to slipping away.’
‘Slipping away?’ The words were resonating in my mind. Did I just say something similar to someone or did someone say it to me?
‘Yeah,’ Ronnie said, nodding. He had his legs crossed and was sitting back. There was something about his demeanor now that annoyed me. He was taking too long between sentences. It was as if he was watching for some sort of reaction in me to whatever he had said.
My eyes went to a figure moving just outside my area. It looked like Lancaster. He glanced in and walked quickly away. Ronnie turned to look in the direction I was looking and then turned back to me.
‘Anyway, why don’t we try that technique?’
‘You think you’re a psychiatrist now?’ I asked.
‘I’m only trying to help you get better. So let’s see if you can recall something relatively recent.’
‘I’m really not in the mood for games, Ronnie.’
‘It’s not a game,’ he said, really trying to sound casual about it. Trying too hard, I thought. ‘It’s a technique. I only want to help you, Clea. If you don’t make an effort to help yourself, you could be like this for quite a while. At least, that’s what I was told.’
We stared at each other a moment. I was half listening to him. I was really wondering what Lancaster would do now. Would he wait outside the ICU for Ronnie to leave and then come in? Or would he leave the hospital and return perhaps when I was moved into a room?
‘So let’s start.’ He leaned toward me. ‘Flora Anthony,’ he said.
‘Who?’
‘Your old dorm mate, Flora Anthony, the one you met for dinner at Gianni’s not long ago. Any memory of that?’
‘No,’ I said quickly. Why bring up that memory? He was really annoying me now.
He widened his eyes. ‘That’s an amazing coincidence.’
‘What is?’
‘Not remembering dinner with Flora Anthony.’
‘How is that an amazing coincidence?’
‘She has no memory of having dinner with you,’ he said. ‘In fact, she hasn’t seen you since college.’
My first reaction was, Why in hell did I use a real person? Why didn’t I invent someone from the past? It was my father’s fault. He was the one who convinced me always to use some truth when telling a lie. My second reaction was outrage. Why was he behaving like some trial attorney, cross-examining me and trying to trap me?
‘When did you see or speak to Flora Anthony?’ I asked.
‘A few days ago. I spoke to her on the phone. It wasn’t difficult to find her. You’ve got a great alumni association. She lives in upstate New York, by the way, a small village called Centerville. She married not long after we married, and she has two children a few years younger than Kelly. Her husband’s family has a big residential gas company so they moved there because he’s in line to take it over. They have a twenty-five-acre property, and because I mentioned I was in commercial real estate insurance, she had to tell me how many times they were offered millions for it. Once I got her on the phone, I couldn’t get her to shut up. She seemed starved for conversation. Was she always like that?
‘Oh,’ he added before I could respond, ‘she wishes she had met you for dinner. Apparently, she always admired you and thought you would end up a fashion model or a Hollywood movie star. So, does that help any with your memory? Do you remember the restaurant?’
‘I was there, at Gianni’s. I needed to get away and be by myself.’
‘I know you were there. You weren’t waiting for anyone else?’ he asked, sounding and looking more and more like an Agatha Christie detective. Ronnie did love imitating movie characters. He looked as if he was enjoying himself, and at m
y expense.
‘No,’ I said sharply.
‘Are you sure? You told the waitress you were. She remembers you almost as well as Flora Anthony remembers you. You must have looked terrific that night. She, too, thought you were possibly a Hollywood movie star. Oh, and remember Kelly saying something about a friend whose parents had stopped there and saw you in the bar?’
‘How could the waitress remember me? I didn’t tell her my name. What, did you bring a picture of me to the restaurant like some detective?’
‘Insurance investigators are really detectives.’
‘You’re not an insurance investigator and you’re not a detective, Ronnie. We’re not in one of your movies. Anyway, why did you start investigating me?’
‘It’s like I said. I’m trying to see if I might have missed some signals,’ he said. ‘You know … like Tony’s cousin’s family might have missed. I did tell you that you seemed different to me lately. Remember my saying that?’
‘So?’
‘I felt you slipping away.’
‘Stop saying that. Stop saying slipping. I’m not walking on ice.’
‘We’re all set,’ we heard and turned to see Lila Rubin and an African American male hospital escort arrive with a stretcher. Another attendant arrived behind them. ‘We’ve got her room set up,’ Lila told Ronnie.
She looked suspiciously at my blood pressure monitor and then at Ronnie.
‘Oh good,’ he said.
‘Yes. Just let us get her organized and you can visit with her in her room.’
‘Sure,’ Ronnie said, standing quickly. ‘I’ll wait in the hall.’
‘We’re going to four-o-one,’ Lila told him. ‘Give us about twenty minutes to get her comfortably settled in. Maybe get yourself a cup of coffee or something,’ she added with a professional smile. She clearly wanted him out of their way and knew how to do it politely, just like a good flight attendant directing passengers to get to their seats. I did feel as if I was on a journey now.
He nodded and took my hand for a few seconds.
‘See you there,’ he said and left. I thought he almost had added, ‘Don’t slip away,’ but choked it back when he looked into my eyes.
It irked me, but all I could think about was his running into Lancaster either in the hallway or in the cafeteria. Right now he looked like a paranoid husband, suspicious of anyone with an abundance of testosterone. Lancaster was too smart for that, though. He wouldn’t strike up a conversation with him or encourage one if Ronnie began to speak to him.
Ironically, however, Ronnie was right about jarring my memory with talk about some recent event. As I was wheeled out of the ICU, I began to resurrect visions of Lancaster in my bedroom, and then I remembered he had called me and I was on my way to see him. It was raining. Something had put me into a panic so I had begun to speed.
After the elevator doors opened, I looked up and down the halls. I was confident that Lancaster would find out my room number. He might already know it and be close by, I thought. There was a strong possibility he and Ronnie could very well confront each other up here. It made me nervous and then, as I was taken into my room and they shifted me comfortably on to my bed, I thought, Let it happen. Let the games begin. I was on my way to start this anyway. The accident interrupted us, but it didn’t end us. It was only a matter of finding the way to confess and make a clean break of it, I thought. Lancaster will help me. He’ll know just how I should do this.
Ronnie was there moments after the new nurse had shown me how to raise and lower the bed and how to call for assistance. She had asked if I wanted the television on, but I didn’t. I didn’t want anything to prevent me from thinking. I even was annoyed that Ronnie had come back so soon. I needed more time. He thanked the nurse as she left.
‘Well, this is a lot nicer,’ he said. He turned on the television, more for himself than for me.
‘Don’t put on the news and sit here yelling at the television set,’ I said before he turned away from it.
He shrugged. ‘You don’t like soap operas or those courtroom shows?’
‘Just turn it off. When I get the urge for babble, I’ll have the nurse turn it back on.’
‘Whatever,’ he said and turned it off. Then he took a chair again and brought it close to the bed.
‘Don’t you have to get back to the office?’ I asked.
‘Everyone understands. I’ve got people covering for me.’ He smiled. ‘You look more comfortable.’
‘I’m not comfortable. I don’t want to be here.’
‘Of course not. Which reminds me,’ he added and took a photo out of his pocket to show me. ‘That’s your car. Looks like it was hit by a bulldozer and not a dump truck. No one can believe you survived. Totaled. Lucky you were hit on the passenger side and lucky no one was sitting there. Anyone who would have been would be dead for sure.’
I stared at the picture a moment more and then pushed it away. Ronnie took it and looked at it.
‘You know this corner. Looks like you were headed south-east. There are no stores close by. Where were you headed? Seeing the picture doesn’t help?’
‘No,’ I said. He put the picture back in his pocket.
‘So let’s get back to it. Why did you want to go so far to be alone that night? Gianni’s. That was a trip. You didn’t have anything to eat either. Why did you make up that story about the food?’
‘I already told you. I wanted to be alone and I didn’t want to be interrogated about it then and I don’t want to be now. Don’t aggravate me, Ronnie. I have enough of a headache as it is.’
‘Just trying to understand and help you regain your memory, that’s all,’ he said. He waited a moment and then, after what was obviously some serious thinking, he added, ‘The doctors asked me about you.’
‘What do you mean? Asked what about me?’
‘Personal stuff.’
‘Why?’
‘Some medical protocol, I guess. Apparently, you said some things to the neurologist that rang bells. Once you get into places like this, your private life is fair game. You know, psychological things can affect you physically, your recuperation – whatever the excuse for them to take a microscope to your daily life. Lawyers, doctors and priests, they all enjoy that client confidentiality clause. Frankly, I think it’s because their own lives are too boring. What do you think?’
I looked away. I didn’t want to start down this road with him. Was he teasing me? Taunting me? There was something very different about him. I had trouble looking at him. It was as if I was afraid he would be able to read my thoughts.
‘I guess I gotta be honest,’ he said. I turned back to him.
‘Meaning what?’
‘I thought something wasn’t right with you and me for a long time. I was hoping you’d get over it, whatever it was, especially after I had gotten my promotion and the future looked rosier. I was even happy you went back to work, but surprised you decided not to pursue it. It probably would have been good for you.’
‘So what you’re saying is something was wrong with me, not you and me?’
‘I don’t know.’
He sat back and watched when the nurse’s assistant brought in my lunch – again, just some liquid food. I voiced a complaint and she said she would tell the nurse and the nurse would speak to the doctor. The oatmeal was so loose it was unappetizing. And if I saw another Jell-O, I would really puke, I thought. I just drank some coffee.
‘Once you’re back on solids, I’ll bring you some deli, maybe. I know you like that turkey breast with honey mustard on rye.’
‘Thanks for putting it in my head,’ I said, and he smiled.
‘Anyway, I wanted to explain why I was worried about you before all this,’ he continued. ‘And why I behaved like some detective.’
The way he looked at me now told me he knew a lot more, but he didn’t look terribly angry. In fact, he didn’t look angry at all. I couldn’t say he looked very hurt about it either, which really surprised me. Ronnie
could put on that abused look at the drop of a dime. He had used it on his parents his whole life, and pretty successfully, too. Even though I was the one in this marriage who had been an only child, he had been far more spoiled growing up. If anything, right now he looked unusually concerned for me, not for himself.
I had to admit that it threw me off. I struggled with choices. Should I just look guilty like the perennial child caught with his or her hand in the cookie jar and confess immediately, or should I feign innocence and even take on an angry, offended look? Now I was the one who was being abused – and look at when he decided to do this to me, when I’m so physically and mentally vulnerable. What kind of a man would do such a thing to his wife? A selfish bastard, that’s who. I could easily get away with it and make him feel sorry for me. He would apologize until I was sick of it.
The thing was, however, I wanted to be the one to reveal my affair – not have him unravel it and reveal it to me first. When and if he reveals it before I do, I’m at a big disadvantage, I thought. I’m put on the defensive immediately. He becomes the accuser and the victim, and I become the suspect, the villain. That’s a distortion. I’m the victim here, not him. I was the one who was suffering. I was the one who had found a solution and an escape, a way to heal.
I was sure this was the advice Lancaster would give me. ‘’Fess up,’ he would say. ‘Put all your cards on the table. You can’t stand dishonesty anyway and it’s eating at you. Don’t worry about him. Eventually, he’ll just change the channel.’
I really wanted to do that, but Ronnie was the one spilling his guts now. He looked as if he couldn’t stop regurgitating the truth as if he had stepped into the ultimate confessional and would keep the priest there for hours, maybe even until he had to retire from the clergy.
‘I want you to understand and appreciate that what I did, I did for Kelly as much as for me,’ he said.
‘What are you talking about? What did you do?’
The nurse stopped in again to tell me that I had been approved for a solid diet.
‘I can have some toast with jam brought to you right now if you like.’
‘Please do,’ I said.
Lost in His Eyes Page 21
