by Tom Bierdz
Giving me the evil eye as she passed, she arranged herself on the edge of the sofa, looking tense.
“Let’s start from the beginning,” I said, working hard at modulating my tone. “This whole therapy thing was for Sasha’s benefit. Now that she’s gone there’s no need for these sessions.”
“You didn’t cancel.”
“Cancel! It’s self-evident!”
“Maybe this was the only way I could get you to be there for me.”
“Be there for you? I’ve been there for you!” I was shouting. I lowered my voice. “I needed my space. I needed to be alone.”
“Bobby said you went to the Mariner’s game.”
“Yes.”
“You were alone with thirty-thousand others.”
“Cut that shit out, Megan. I was alone in a crowd. You know perfectly well what that’s about. You’ve been there.”
“I do know what that’s like, but I buried my sister yesterday. I needed you there.” She pleaded like a child abandoned by a parent.
“You wanted to play tennis! That didn’t seem very needy to me.”
Anger stiffened her voice “So mister almighty shrink, you’re going to sit there and judge me? You, of all people, should know there’s no one way for people to handle emotions.”
She was right about that, but there were patterns, usual responses that were expected, that fell within the normal bell curve. Playing tennis after burying your sister was not one of them. But arguing the point was not productive. “Okay, I’ll give you that. I’m sorry that you feel I abandoned you, but people march to different rhythms. I was stressed out. I needed my space.”
“You could have called and told me. I couldn’t reach you. You had your phone off.”
“You’re right. I could have. Should have. I guess I didn’t think you’d understand. I wanted to, needed to, avoid a confrontation like we’re having now.”
She was wagging her foot, her stylish Ferragamo heel loose and dangling. “There’s more you’re not telling me.”
“Yeah, I suppose.” I ran my hand down the edge of my desk “It’s all jumbled up in my mind. I feel I failed with Sasha...”
“You didn’t fail. You made it clear right from the beginning that you couldn’t help her from a distance. If anyone failed it was me.”
“You can’t blame yourself. You can’t control the behavior of another.”
“Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?”
“Yes. Intellectually I know I couldn’t control Sasha or Kevin, yet emotionally I share some guilt. But it’s more than that.” I opened the lid on the box, let the suspicions out. “The bruises on Sasha’s arms. Nick didn’t seem like a killer.”
“You don’t know Nick, but Sasha wasn’t murdered. She committed suicide.” Her eyes narrowed. “Wait! Are you thinking I gave Sasha the bruises? That I had something to do with her death?”
“No, no!” Still, I couldn’t shake Nick’s warning out of my head. “Like I said it’s all jumbled up.”
She started swinging her foot again, the heel of her shoe slapping the heel of her foot. “Right now I’m doing everything I can to restrain myself from punching you for even having those thoughts about me. I’m trying to understand where you’re coming from.”
I shook my head, clenched my lips together. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. It’s just that so much has happened in so little time. Sometimes, I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.”
“Well, I’m not the bus driver. I had nothing to do with Kevin’s suicide.”
Ouch! “Wow! You’re blaming my reaction on Kevin’s suicide?”
“I’m not saying your other concerns aren’t valid. But I think your son’s suicide is putting you over the edge.”
I sent her a half dismissive, half curious look.
“That’s not a slam, Grant. Your emotions are still raw. It’s understandable. Sasha’s suicide...through no fault of yours...stirred up the pot, making you extra sensitive.”
“You think I’m overreacting?”
“I do. Everything’s extreme. Exaggerated.”
Maybe she was right. Maybe I was seeing mountains where there were molehills. I did have a tendency to go to extremes. My womanizing and excessive drinking that led to my DUI were cases in point. I flashed to the game Carrie, Bobby and I played attributing falsehoods to the Noble Company, due to behavior we chose to identify as extreme or nefarious. Was I doing the same thing to Megan, casting doubt on behavior I didn’t see or understand? Playing the game was innocent fun and didn’t harm the Noble Company. Falsely accusing Megan was damaging. I had these thoughts with my head in my hand, my eyes fixed on the floor. I looked up to see Megan wiping tears from her eyes with a tissue.
I padded over to her, sat down beside her on the sofa. “I’m sorry I failed you. I got caught up in my own little world. And you just lost your–“
She put her hand over my mouth, smiled at me with moist eyes, and then bent her head so that our foreheads were touching. Then she kissed my neck, my chin, eased her tongue inside my mouth as her hand moved sending electricity between my legs. Our clothes fell away. Our bodies tangled on the couch, until we were spent in exhaustion and lay wrapped in each other’s arms
19
There’s something about sex that’s healing and revitalizing. I violated one of my cardinal rules–-to never have sex in my office-–and was not bothered by it. Sex with Megan had shattered the wall building between us, re-establishing our closeness. I felt like I was connected to someone, that I was part of something bigger than myself. I cast away my doubts, blaming them on my vulnerability due to Kevin’s suicide. I felt lighter like I had dropped one hundred pounds. It was awesome. Everything seemed brighter, new and refreshed. Walking to work I felt grounded, more connected to my little part of the world, mindful of how the rising sun illuminated my environment, lighting up an oak tree, a maple, a dogwood; casting a show in brilliant cinematography simply for my pleasure.
Bobby was in the office when I arrived and had already brewed the coffee. He brought me my cup. “Everything go all right yesterday? I heard some shouting between you and Megan--” He made a point of saying he couldn’t hear what was being said, just the loudness of it. “--When I left you were still in session.”
Making it on the couch, I thought, sipping my coffee. Being in a good mood, I took it head on. “We had a heated disagreement, a misunderstanding. Once we aired it, we resolved it rather quickly.”
“She seemed loaded for bear when she popped in here. Real antsy. Usually she spends time with me. Not yesterday.”
“Her showing up at her usual appointment after Sasha’s death is what pissed me off. I told you to fill that appointment time.”
“I tried.”
“How did she know I’d be free at that time?”
“She called.”
“Bobby, you have to tell me when she calls like that. Prepare me. I don’t like surprises.”
“You were with patients.”
“Poor excuse. Catch me in-between.” I started to go to my office, turned toward Bobby. “Megan will not be coming in any more now that Sasha is gone. Hopefully, that’s the end of it. But if not, fill me in.”
“Okay.”
I treated a couple of patients, then, sometime around mid-morning, Bobby said, “There’s a call you want to take.”
I pictured Megan on the other side of the line, her face glowing. I picked up the phone, answered with a lilt in my voice, “Hello.”
“I’m glad Bobby put me through,” Hanna said. “I was wanting to take you out to lunch. I have something I want to discuss with you.”
Hanna’s call threw me. I felt myself retreating. Her words seemed so far away. “Lunch? Today?”
“Yes, if you are free and can get away.”
“I think so, “I said, still disconcerted. I scanned my calendar. I had a two hour gap between appointments. “Yeah, that works. Pick me up at noon.”
I went into my next appointment
wishing I’d asked Hanna what she wanted to talk about. I had to brush it from my mind several times during the interview to concentrate on my patient.
Dressed casually chic in a Kelly green ensemble that I hadn’t seen before, Hanna arrived early to huddle with Bobby, then drove me to a trendy Irish restaurant. Cool but sunny, we sat outside in the courtyard, under a patio heater protected from the wind by fencing and trees.
As soon as our wine was in hand, Hanna said, without preface, “I’ve been dating Hank Gentry.”
I shouldn’t have been stunned since Hanna had forewarned me, asking for my opinion of Hank, but I was. Maybe it was the intimate setting, the two of us sitting across from one another with a glass of wine in a restaurant. I was enamored with Megan, yet I felt a pang of jealousy. I smiled. Waited.
“I don’t know if you remember but Hank’s son, Chip, was on the same baseball team as Kevin...”
I nodded. I remembered him as a real hustler full of energy, the kind of kid that could spark the team.
“Hank asked me to go with him to Chips’ tournament in Bellingham and I wondered what you thought about that?”
“Are you asking me if you should sleep with him?”
Hanna laughed, wine squirting out of her mouth. “Sorry,” she said, wiping it off the tablecloth. “I think I can decide that for myself. No, I was wondering how it would look. I know many of the other parents who will be there. I didn’t want to blemish Kevin’s name.”
“What Kevin didn’t stain by jumping off the bridge, I did with my philandering and DUI. Don’t let that stop you if you want to go. Besides, it’s been well over a year.” Her question struck me as unusual, and for a moment I wondered if she wasn’t throwing her dating Hank up in my face.
She touched my arm. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Her touch felt reassuring, reminding me how much I’d missed that touch that always had a way of lightening my burden when I had come home hurting because something went wrong with a patient, frequently through no fault of mine. But it was easy to forget that touch when it wasn’t there when Kevin killed himself. Then, it was my fault and remained so, if unspoken. Did her reassurance carry over to Kevin’s tragedy too?
The waiter brought Hanna a second glass of wine. I declined since I still had patients to see. As I watched her sip I noticed she looked less gaunt. There was color in her face which had filled a bit, and the patches under her eyes were but shadows of their former selves. “You’re looking good, Hanna.”
She beamed. “You really think so? Some days I look in the mirror and see an old hag.”
I smiled. “So what’s the secret?”
“Don’t look in the mirror!” She laughed from deep down inside.
I couldn’t remember when she laughed so heartily.
“I’ve been walking and trying not to feel sorry for myself. And, I have to say, Hank has been good for me.”
“He’s been a gentlemen?”
“Too much so some time. He’s real old school. Can’t kiss the girl until the third date.”
I felt a little uncomfortable with this girlfriend-like chat. Although it all sounded quite innocent, I didn’t need to hear about her and Hank’s intimate moments. The whole luncheon felt strange. The fact that we could sit down and talk as friendly adults who shared a history was comfortable, but also reminded me what I once had and missed. We were replaying a piece of the past when we admired and believed in one another. I knew we could never go back. Too much had happened to change the core of who we were. There could never be a pre-Kevin, Grant or pre-Kevin, Hanna. That was sad and I mourned my loss.
She must have sensed my reaction because she changed the subject. “Did that boy enjoy the camera?”
“Very much so. He’s into birding, took hundreds of photos. I haven’t seen any yet.”
“I’m glad. It was only collecting dust. Are there any other of Kevin’s items you want because I’m going to box them up.”
“I can’t think of anything now. I’ll let you know.” A couple at a corner table was smooching and caught Hanna’s eye. I followed her eyes and observed. “Young love.”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “Hank thought moving some of Kevin’s things would be good for me.”
Apparently, my earlier suggestions she do that didn’t carry the same weight as Hank’s now.
“I know you wanted me to do that, Grant, but I wasn’t ready then. Hank reinforced it.”
Her remembering my suggestion made me feel better. “As long as the goal is reached.”
She burped. “Excuse me! Just two glasses of wine. We’d better order before I get maudlin. I think of him every day, you know.” Her eyes began to fill. “Rarely, do I go a day without crying myself to sleep. When does it end, Grant? Tell me, when does it end?”
“I don’t know that it ever ends. I think the best we can hope for is that it fades away in time, fails to demand our every waking moment.”
“Does he still haunt you every day?”
“In ways I’m not even aware.” I replayed my recent session with Megan and how Kevin had influenced my thinking.
We moved on to other topics. Talked about old friends and Bobby’s culinary adventures.
20
Confessing she was afraid of Nick, Megan pleaded with me to accompany her to Attorney Christopher Nolan’s office for the reading of Sasha’s will. The office was located in an aging, mid-level building, in downtown Seattle. I could tell Megan expected glitz and was unimpressed by the cookie-cutter, masculine room with dark paneling, forest green carpeting, and a law library. She flashed Nick a look of contempt, put two chairs between them, and had me sit on her right side to screen her from him. The walnut desk smelled of lemon oil and tobacco smoke.
“Just the two of us?” Megan asked, referring to the beneficiaries.
“Just the two of you...,” Nolan said from behind his desk, his chin wattles quivering. His round, ruddy, fleshy face perpetually shone with surprise due to his bushy eyebrows that stood at attention over his large dark eyes. “...and Mr.?”
“Dr. Garrick,” Megan jumped in.
I nodded, smiling.
“Dr. Garrick is here because?”
“I asked him to be,” Megan said.
Eyebrows raised, he turned to Nick. “Is this okay with you, Mr. Kovich?”
“Yeah,” Nick growled.
Nolan smiled at me, then scanned the document before him.
Megan scowled at Nick whose eyes stared past her, out the window, his mind elsewhere, probably on Sasha. He dressed in a long-sleeved, patterned green shirt, and khakis. A gold chain hung around his hairy neck. Megan later told me he dressed inappropriately. Too casual. That was another indication he had never been right for Sasha.
“I think we can begin,” Nolan stated. “First, I want to express my sympathy for your loss. Sasha was a lovely woman. It’s tragic. Such a young life cut short.” He cleared his throat. “Now to the will. I’ll hit the high points, leave you with copies. Sasha leaves $1,000,000 to the Migraine Research Foundation...”
“She suffered so much with the migraines,” Nick said, “We can only wonder what part they played in her death.”
“She also leaves an equal amount, $1,000,000 to be used in the fight against sexual abuse,” Nolan continued, “and enlists her sister, Megan, if she should predecease her, to select the appropriate charity and disperse the funds to them.”
Megan made a face, flashed me a funny look.
“Everything else, all of her assets, liquid and solid, she leaves to her husband, Nick...”
Stunned, Megan sputtered, “Wait! What’s the date of that will?”
“June, 2013,” Nolan said, checking.
“There was a more recent one. I know, because Sasha told me she was leaving me half, somewhere around $5 million.” Gasping, she jumped up from chair, faced Nick. “What did you do with that addendum, Nick? You saw it, didn’t you? Tore it up. Made sure it was never turned in.”
“Shut up, y
ou bitch! I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. You’re loaded. You shit dollars. Why would she leave anything to you?”
“Because you’re a no-good son-of-a-bitch. She told me how you beat her. She couldn’t get away from you. That’s why she killed herself.”
“People!” Nolan shouted, trying to regain control.
“Bullshit! That’s a lie,” Nick retorted, “I never ever hit her, pushed her once when she was in my face.”
“Then why did she have the bruises on her body?” I clamped on to Megan’s sleeve, gently tugged.
“You tell me! I wouldn’t be surprised if you did it. You poisoned her mind, told her lies about me. Tried to push us apart. Maybe you killed her. Yeah, that’s it. She didn’t kill herself. You poisoned her. Made it look like a suicide.”
“Stop it! Both of you!” Nolan said. “Is this how Sasha would want you to talk about her?” Both sat down.
Megan drifted off, sought refuge somewhere in her mind, maintained a thousand-yard stare while the attorney shared some of the logistics.
“Megan,” the attorney called, “you seem to have faded off somewhere.”
“Sorry,” she said, shaking herself alert, “I was reminiscing.”
“I understand. This is a difficult time for you.” He leaned forward. “Look, I have a valid will which I just read and still stands. If Sasha had any intent to make any changes or adjustments, she did not advise me. Miss Wilshire you have every right to contest this, if you like, but you would need legal proof to overturn this”
“Such as?”
“A codicil signed by Sasha that’s been witnessed specifying you as a beneficiary.” He paused, glanced at both Megan and Nick. “If there is nothing else, we’re through here.”
Nick shot her a look that could kill. He hoped to never see her again. He thanked the attorney and left.
Megan lingered behind, keeping her distance. She abandoned any hope of an inheritance. She didn’t need the money. It was payment for the care she had given Sasha over the years. It was now time to move to other items on her agenda.
21
