In a Doctor's Arms

by Lisa Mondello

  “Roma is a terrific cook, too. I wasn’t kidding about the bread. She makes this maple bread to die for.”

  “I take it you like to come here often.”

  He shrugged. “A couple of times a month. I’d come here more, but the café’s so much more convenient when I’m at the clinic. I like to come here when I can, though. It’s home cooking that I don’t get by myself.”

  “Or not at all, since you don’t cook that often.

  “Exactly.”

  “I have to say though that you didn’t do too bad with the chicken fajitas the other night.”

  His slight grin showed he was pleased at her compliment. “They would have made Cammie proud.”

  She chuckled and looked at the menu. After they ordered, they settled in with sliced maple bread and warm apple cider. The fire felt soothing and brought thoughts of curling up in an overstuffed sofa with a good book. But Teresa enjoyed the company she was in right now. It made it hard for her to broach the subject she knew was not going to be pleasant.

  “Frank Dulton was pretty upset earlier,” Teresa said.

  Dennis nodded, his large hands wrapped loosely around his stoneware mug.

  “Something tells me it’s more than just me seeing Benny for counseling that set him off.”

  “You mean his animosity toward me.” Dennis said the words more of a conclusion than a question.

  She tried to be as delicate as possible. “It’s hard to ignore…from both of you.”

  Dennis shrugged with a slow sigh.

  “I never said I was perfect.”

  “I don’t expect you to be.”

  Dennis leaned back in his chair and looked around the small dining room, avoiding her gaze. But only for a moment.

  “I told you earlier that Frank and I weren’t always like this. But something changed. Things have been hard on them. Frank didn’t grow up in a family where people talked about their feelings where Karen is just the opposite.”

  It was beginning to make sense. “That’s why it’s hard for him to understand why Benny needs some professional help?”

  “Right. Only I’ve suspected that it goes deeper than that. Things have been difficult for them financially. As you saw, Frank is a proud man. I can understand his pride making it hard for him to talk to outsiders about his situation, but he doesn’t really talk to Karen, either.”

  “Did she confide in you?”

  “A little. And only after I press. We’ve always had a good relationship, but I’ve long suspected since I came back from Iraq that Frank wasn’t happy that I returned. He didn’t mind our relationship being so close when I was in med school or during my residency I suspect because I wasn’t around. But when I came back—”

  “You were in his face.”

  He shrugged. “Or so he perceived. My sister was thrilled to have me back, but I didn’t receive the same warm reception from Frank. I got the feeling he liked it better when I was somewhere else and only called or wrote occasionally.”

  “Maybe it made it easier to pretend that things were okay.”

  “You mean easier to hide. Karen only told me about Benny’s depression when I came home.”

  “That must have been quite a shock for you.”

  “Yes, and one filled with some measure of guilt. I feel like I should have been here. Pastor Balinski had been seeing Karen in church and counseling the family, but slowly Benny stopped attending services with her. Frank, not at all.”

  Teresa thought about it a moment. “Do you think it’s jealousy?”

  “With Frank? Could be. But I’ve long believed Frank had his own issues that needed to be dealt with. He just gets angry if Karen brings it up.”

  “I’m sorry things are so difficult with your family. Family issues can bring such stress. For what it’s worth, Frank really needs you to step in and be strong where he can’t be. I’m sure he’d hate that I said that, but after that display in your office, I’m sure there is more fear and frustration driving him than anger.”

  Roma returned to the table before long and delivered their meals. As Dennis said it would be, the meal was cooked to perfection and was nothing like anything Teresa had eaten in a while. Because of time, they skipped coffee and headed back to the clinic.

  There were several cars in the parking lot when they climbed out of Dennis’s SUV. Dennis pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and checked for messages. “It can’t be too bad. No one called me in from lunch early.”

  “Do you think Cammie is back from lunch?”

  “Her car is here. She’s probably just getting in.”

  “Good.”

  Dennis held Teresa back with his hand. “Now may not be the best time to talk with her.”

  “Why?”

  “They made the preparation for Molly’s funeral this morning. I’m going to go out on a limb and say she’s probably not up to doing much talking this afternoon.”

  “Oh, you’re right. Perhaps another day when she’s had some time. Besides, I think it can wait.”

  Teresa pulled her car keys out of her purse and turned to walk over to her car.

  “You’re not coming in?” Dennis asked.

  “No, I’m done for the day, and I have an important errand.”

  His eyebrows drew together. “What do you have, a hot date?”

  She chuckled teasingly. “Yeah, with the chief of police.”

  She left Dennis standing there with his mouth open. She climbed into her sedan and fired the engine as she watched him shake his head and walk into the clinic. She liked teasing Dennis. He could be so serious about his work and the things he was passionate about. But there was a playful side of him that she enjoyed.

  “I’m afraid there isn’t much here that we didn’t already know,” Mac said, handing Teresa the police report he’d just received from the state police.

  Teresa sighed. She was hoping—for what, she didn’t really know. She handed the report back to Mac.

  “Sorry it wasn’t more help to you,” he said.

  “Me, too. But I appreciate the help.”

  “Do you mind my asking what exactly you were hoping to find?”

  Teresa leaned back in the chair. “I guess a timeline. Benny is feeling an enormous amount of guilt. It’s not uncommon after an accident but strange in that he’s taken on the burden for the entire accident as if he caused it. Yet, he said that he saw Molly’s Bronco already in the water when he drove into the bridge.”

  “There was a gaping hole left in the side of the bridge after the Bronco tore through it. Molly must have been driving fast or have gone into quite a spin to break through that way.”

  Teresa thought a moment. “Was there any damage on the other side of the bridge? I mean, if she did spin, you’d think she would have careened against the rail on the other side.”

  Mac looked at the report and then pulled out another file with notes written on it. “The highway department only noted fixing one side of the bridge.”

  “That doesn’t mean there aren’t markings.”

  “True. But I still don’t know how it would matter to Benny.”

  Teresa leaned back in the chair and let a slow breath escape her lips. “I’m grasping at straws. I’m looking for an answer that points definitively to a reason for what he’s feeling, and there may not be one here at all.”

  She looked up at Mac, who now seemed somewhere else. “Will you be going to Molly’s funeral?”

  He looked at her then, his eyes sad. Then he nodded. “She was a friend.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Me, too. Will you be there?”

  She hadn’t thought about going, but now that Mac had broached the subject Teresa decided she may consider it. But would it be too awkward?

  “I’m not sure. I never knew Molly, and I don’t want to be the out-of-towner who crashed the party.” She kept to herself her fears that it might be too emotionally draining for her, her first funeral since Mariah’s.

&nb
sp; He nodded. “There’s no hope for either of us on that front. I just wondered, um, if you need anything else, just let me know.”

  “There may be one thing.” Teresa thought a minute. “Do you mind doing a little experiment with me?”

  Mac sat down on the edge of his desk. “What type of experiment?”

  “I’d like to take this report and go out to the bridge myself so I can walk through the steps of the accident.”

  “What would that prove?”

  “I don’t know.” She sighed. “Like I said, I know I’m grasping at straws. I just feel like I’m missing something.” She released a sigh full of frustration. “Maybe I’m losing a battle that I never had a hope of winning.”

  Mac smiled then. “There’s always hope.”

  Teresa had thought that at one time, too. As she left Mac to his work and drove the distance back to Dennis’s place, she wondered if figuring this out would get her any closer to feeling that way again.

  Chapter Ten

  “Aren’t you done grilling me yet?”

  Benny stared at Teresa with the typical boredom of a seventeen-year-old who wanted to be anywhere other than where he was. It had been a week since the accident and a few days since Molly Peterson’s funeral. Now that the teenagers were back at school, Teresa wanted to know how Benny was handling the pressure.

  From his reaction to her question, she guessed it wasn’t going well.

  This past hour with Benny had Teresa’s head throbbing. Although they’d made progress and Benny wasn’t just staring at her through the whole hour, what he did contribute to the session left her with more questions than clarity. She could only imagine how he felt.

  One thing was clear: the root of Benny’s problems didn’t lie with the New Year’s Eve accident. Sure, it certainly contributed to his current state of mind, which at best would be deemed by any professional as shaky. But there were other problems he’d been battling long before that night.

  She tried to focus on the positive.

  “I spoke with Chuck’s mother this morning. His condition has been upgraded from critical to serious.”

  There was a flicker of interest in Benny’s dark eyes. Still he kept his slumped-back position in the chair. “Is there a difference?”

  “Absolutely. I don’t want to lie to you. He’s got a long road ahead of him. But his mom was told his condition has improved. He’s a strong kid.”

  The news should have come as a relief to Benny, and she’d expected at least a little reaction. A smile. A mutter of thanks. But he just stared out the window.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  Benny shrugged. “He’s still in a coma, right?”

  “Yes. But it’s a drug-induced coma now.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means his doctor has given him medication to keep him comfortable so he can heal. When he improves a little more, they’ll stop giving him the medication and he should wake up just fine.”

  It was clear that to Benny there was no difference at all, and he wasn’t pleased. Where she had felt encouraged by the news she’d received earlier this morning, Benny sighed and slumped his shoulders. As long as Chuck remained lost in a coma, unable to talk, Benny wouldn’t see his friend’s progress as any progress at all.

  “I’m not trying to bowl you over, Benny. I just want to help—”

  She was rewarded with an exasperated sigh and a roll of his eyes. Nothing she hadn’t seen before. “I don’t need a shrink.”

  She’d heard this type of reproach before and quickly countered it. “Shrinks are psychiatrists, and I’m not a psychiatrist. I’m a child psychologist.”

  “So?”

  “There’s a difference.”

  “I thought you said you were a doctor.”

  “I didn’t go to school quite as long as your uncle did, but I do have a Ph.D. in child psychology. Your uncle did his time in med school, not me.”

  He stared at her skeptically for a brief moment. “Well, it’s all the same to me if you’re trying to get into my head. Ain’t gonna change things one way or the other, you know. You’re wasting your time.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that. But why don’t you enlighten me. Why is this a waste of time?”

  He slouched back in the chair, shoulders drooping, and legs spread wide, one boot furiously connecting with the leg of her desk as he repeatedly kicked it in short little bursts. Each motion jarred her, but she kept herself from flinching.

  “Look around you,” he said. “You haven’t been here long, so you still like Stockington Falls. But if you stick around long enough, you won’t anymore.”

  “You don’t like it here?”

  “Nothing good ever happens here. My father lived his whole life in the house we still live in. He never goes anywhere or does anything but work and come home and yell at my mother. It’s like a prison there. And I’ll be in that prison or another one long after you drive out of this nothing town.”

  “Prison? That’s a strong choice of words.” Did he worry that he’d be charged with a crime for the accident?

  Another roll of the eyes. “Behind bars or stuck in Stockington Falls. It’s all the same, ain’t it? It’s just another prison.”

  “Isn’t there anything you like about Stockington Falls?”

  “What’s to like? You think I want to end up like these folks here? People come from out of town to bum on the slopes, and they just look at us like we’re freaks or something. I don’t want to end up working in some dead-end job at Peterson’s Construction like my old man because that’s the only thing he could get. And I don’t want to have to pick up after tourists either. I don’t know why my uncle ever came back here. He was free. He saw something better than this hick town. Here there’s nothing but people passing through.”

  Teresa picked up a dull pointed pencil and tapped it on her blank notepad. She liked that Benny was talking even if she didn’t like what he was saying. Maybe she had a chance to change things to the positive.

  “You told me before that you’ve decided not to go to college.”

  “So?”

  “You say you don’t like it here. Have you ever thought about college as a way to get out?”

  She knew he had. Dennis had told her as much. But about a year ago, he’d stopped talking about colleges, ignoring his uncle any time Dennis brought the subject up. She wanted to hear it from Benny’s mouth why he’d had a change of heart.

  “Why bother? My folks don’t have money for college. ’Sides, my dad doesn’t think I’m worth much as it is.”

  Teresa’s insides burned with fury, but she squashed it down. At a time when kids needed encouragement, it was hard to stomach anyone who’d run them down or take away their dreams. She could see by the look on Benny’s face that Dennis had been right. Benny did want to go to college, if only to get away from Stockington Falls and what he thought was holding him back.

  Whether it was Stockington Falls or the city of Hartford, it didn’t matter. Kids Benny’s age wanted to spread their wings and see what the world had to offer. She had a feeling Benny had a better chance of doing that with his mother’s help. But first, he needed to get over this idea—which he seemed to have gotten from his father—that he couldn’t do it.

  Teresa suppressed a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose before going on. This could very well be the root of Benny’s troubles. Emotional abuse was just as painful as a closed-fisted punch to the face, just as destructive. But it was easier to cover up the bruising until something tragic happened.

  Benny was bruised all over.

  In all thy ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct thy path.

  Dennis said that Benny had stopped going to church services with Karen. It wasn’t uncommon. Many teenagers strayed from their faith, thinking they didn’t need the Lord in their lives. Those same teenagers come back to God when they are ready. But Teresa couldn’t help but think that if only Benny embraced his faith again, he’d find the direction
and comfort he needed in his life right now.

  She leaned forward in her seat, resting her elbows on her knees, eyeing Benny. “For a minute, let’s forget about what your father thinks. If you did go to college, what would you do?”

  A small glint of light flashed in the corner of Benny’s eyes, but his face changed instantly and grew hard, the ray of hope Teresa snatched vanishing. He wanted to go there. She could tell. But he was afraid.

  She wouldn’t push it. She’d wait until he was ready to talk more about it.

  “Well, I won’t be driving a truck for a living.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Come on, doc. I’ve told you the story of what happened on the bridge a ton of times. I’m nothing but a lousy driver. I saw the hole in the bridge and the car in the water. I panicked, and then I slid off the road and hit the tree on the other side. End of story. I can’t do anything right.”

  He went silent, closing himself off.

  “Things were pretty crazy New Year’s Eve, Benny. Maybe you remember something else that could—”

  “They want to pin the accident on me.” Benny unleashed the words with raw emotion. “Don’t you think I hear what people are saying? They all say it was my fault and I was partying, but they’re wrong. I wasn’t drunk. I wasn’t. No matter what my ol’ man says. I wasn’t drunk.”

  Benny bolted up in his seat. His eyes were frightfully wide, reminding Teresa of a rabbit checkmated by a fox.

  “It was the stupid truck plowing right over the bridge coming toward me. It didn’t even have its lights on. What was I supposed to do? Stupid truck caused the accident and I couldn’t— And now that lady’s dead and Chuck’s going to die, too, and it’s because of me.”

  “I told you Chuck is doing much better. It’s just a matter of time before he comes out of the coma,” she said sympathetically.

  No matter what words of wisdom she offered him—no matter what anyone said—Benny couldn’t be consoled.

  “I think maybe it’s time to take a trip to St. Johnsbury,” she said. “What for?”

  “To see Chuck. I think it’s important to see for yourself that he is doing better. How about I talk to your mother about it?”