Her Sister's Shoes
Page 6
Just like that, as though a hypnotist had snapped his fingers and brought her mother out of her spell. Five minutes ago she didn’t remember what kind of cake she’d eaten at the party. Five minutes ago she thought her father was still alive.
Faith ignored her mother’s question and drove on. Sam would know what to do.
“Where are we going, Faith? I’m tired, and ready for my bed.”
Faith let out a sigh. “We’re meeting Sam at the hospital.”
“The hospital? Did someone get sick at the party?”
“Yes, Mama. You. You’re the one who got sick at the party.”
“That’s ridiculous. I feel perfectly fine. Now take me home.”
Faith pulled into the hospital parking lot and found a spot close to the emergency room entrance. She turned the key in the ignition. The engine sputtered a couple of times before dying. “If you can tell me what you were looking for in Jackie’s attic, I’ll take you home.”
Her mother’s face paled. “I don’t remember being in Jackie’s attic.”
“Really, Mama? You tore her attic apart like you were Hurricane Lovie.”
“Was I looking for something?”
“That’s what we all wanna know. You told us you were looking for something, but you couldn’t tell us what it was.”
Lovie fingered the antique key she now wore on a chain around her neck.
“You probably had some kind of spell.” Faith wiped away an orange lipstick smudge from the side of her mother’s mouth. “I’m sure everything is fine, but we’d all feel better if the doctor checked you out.”
Lovie gathered her belongings and reached for the door handle. “I suppose you’re right.”
After providing insurance information and a brief description of the evening’s events to the woman at the admission’s desk, a willowy young nurse named Bridget whisked Lovie back to an examining room. “We don’t waste any time when someone presents with your symptoms.”
Bridget handed Lovie a gown, and Faith helped her mother pull her blouse up over her head. “She seems perfectly fine now, but an hour ago my mama was a walking, talking zombie who barely even knew her own name. Do you think it’s strange that she doesn’t seem to remember anything that happened tonight?”
“I’ve seen stranger things in here.” Bridget strapped a blood pressure cuff on Lovie’s arm. “But we’ll get to the bottom of it, whatever it is.” Bridget repeated the blood pressure test three times with the same result—150 over 100.
“Isn’t that really high?” Faith asked.
“I’ve seen higher,” Bridget said. “A lot of times a patient’s blood pressure will spike at the thought of being in the hospital. We call it the White Coat Syndrome.”
Faith took a seat and watched Bridget perform an EKG on her mother’s heart and insert an IV in her arm.
The doctor arrived a few minutes later. She guessed him to be about her age, with sandy-colored hair receding at his temples and thinning across the top. He carried a little extra weight around his middle and in his face, but Faith appreciated a guy who filled out his jeans. Unlike Curtis who didn’t have enough meat on his bones to hold up his pants.
After introducing himself as Dr. Mike Neilson, he turned his attention to the patient, using his stethoscope to listen to her heart and lungs. He asked Lovie simple questions, which she answered correctly. She named the president of the United States and stated the current month and year. But when he asked her about the events of the night, she barely remembered being at Jackie’s party.
“To give you an idea of how confused my mom was earlier,” Faith said, “in the car on the way over here, she asked me why we left my daddy at the party. He’s been dead for five years.”
“Mmm-hmm,” he said, but didn’t appear too alarmed. He checked for other symptoms that might indicate a stroke—drooping face, difficulty speaking, weakness in the arm—none of which she presented.
He studied her EKG. “Your lungs are clear, and your heart appears healthy. But I am concerned about your blood pressure and the confusion. Oftentimes these brief losses of memory are unexplainable, but I wouldn’t rule out the possibility of a TIA.”
“A TI who?” Lovie asked.
“A TIA, which is an acronym for Transient Ischemic Attack, otherwise known as a ministroke.”
Lovie’s eyes filled with tears.
The doctor patted her arm. “Millions of people have TIAs every day, most of them undetected. The danger, however, is that a major stroke will follow. With your permission, I’d like to keep you overnight so that we can monitor your vitals and run some additional tests in the morning.”
Lovie smiled. “Whatever you think is best, Doctor.”
He patted her arm again. “I’ll be back in a minute. I’m going to check on the availability of a room for you.”
Faith followed him into the hall.
“Excuse me, Dr. Neilson. Can I talk to you for a minute in private?”
“Certainly.” He took her by the elbow, pulling her aside as a team of EMTs rushed past with an elderly woman on a gurney. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”
“I’m Faith.”
“Faith.” The single syllable rolled off his tongue in a lazy Southern drawl. “I find inspiration in names like Hope and Faith,” he said, as he fixed his pale-blue eyes on her.
Faith’s left thumb searched for her missing wedding band. Her engagement ring with the diamond chip and matching wedding band had provided groceries for a week with enough left over for Curtis to buy booze for a three-day bender.
“Mama’s been acting kind of strange lately, and I’m worried it might be related to this spell she had tonight.”
“Can you give me some examples of this out-of-character behavior?”
“Well … my mom is kind of a neat freak, and I haven’t been to her townhouse in weeks, but earlier this evening, when I picked her up for the party, I found the place a shambles.” Faith paused, taking in a deep breath. “And, not only that, she keeps asking the same questions over and over again. We tell her the answers, then three minutes later, she asks the question again.”
“Many people her age experience short-term memory loss. The tests I’ve ordered might give us some indication of what’s going on. Our neurologist, Dr. Baugh, is not on call tonight, but I’ll pass your mother’s case on to him first thing in the morning and have him stop in to see her on his early rounds.”
When he saw her look of frustration, he added, “Doctors have a process to go through, Faith. We eliminate possibilities, then consider others. Sometimes it takes weeks, maybe even months. Other times we get it right the first go-around.”
“I understand. Thank you for taking care of her.”
“Don’t you worry. Your mother is in good hands,” Dr. Neilson said before heading to the nurses’ station.
Sam appeared suddenly at her side. “How’s Mom?”
“Better.” Faith filled her sister in on the latest developments, about how their mother had snapped out of her spell and about everything the doctor had said.
“Why don’t you go on home. I’ll stay here with Mom. When I left your trailer, Curtis was passed out on the sofa.”
“In that case, I should get home to Bitsy. But first, let me go in and say goodbye to Mama.”
The sisters crowded around their mother’s bed. “How’re you feeling, Mom?” Sam asked.
“Like I’m ready to go home,” Lovie said, her eyes bright with hope.
“You heard the doctor,” Faith said. “You have to stay here overnight, so they can finish running their tests. I’m going home to check on Bitsy, but Sam’s going to stay with you.”
“You should both go home.” Lovie smiled over at her nurse, who was typing something on a laptop computer. “Bridget will take care of me.”
Bridget looked up from the laptop. “At least until they move you to your room. They’ll assign you another nurse upstairs. She’ll attend to you during the night.”
Lovie appeared frigh
tened, and Sam said, “I’m not going anywhere, Mom, until I know you’re settled in your room.”
Faith kissed her mother on the forehead and gave Sam a quick hug before wending through the maze of corridors to the lobby. According to the clock above the main entrance, she had five more minutes until she turned into a pumpkin.
Faith seldom went out at night, and hardly ever alone. Driving down her long dark driveway, she imagined shadows in the trees waiting to jump out at her. Curtis’s bike wasn’t in its usual place in front of the trailer, and for the second time that night, goose pimples broke out all over her body. Surely her husband wouldn’t leave their daughter alone.
Faith unlocked the door and entered the dark trailer, tripping over the coffee table as she groped for the lamp.
She heard what sounded like muffled cries coming from her daughter’s room. She found Bitsy trembling under the covers in her bed, her teeth chattering. Faith wrapped the child in her arms and held her tight. “Hush now, baby. Mama’s here.”
Bitsy sobbed even louder.
“Shh, now. Try to take a deep breath.”
Whimpering, the tiny girl buried her face in her mother’s chest. “I got up to go to the potty and you weren’t here.”
“I know, baby.” Faith stroked her daughter’s hair. “Remember, I had to take your grandmama to the hospital.”
Bitsy pushed away so she could see her mother’s face. “Is Lovie going to be okay?”
Faith wiped a damp strand of hair out of the child’s eyes. “She’s better already, much more herself.”
“Why’d you leave me alone?” Bitsy asked, her lip quivering.
Faith reached for the lamp on her bedside table. “Daddy’s here with you, isn’t he?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
Bitsy shook her head. “He was asleep on the sofa when I went to bed, but now he’s gone.”
Faith imagined Bitsy in the dark house, going from room to room and window to window looking for her mama and daddy. Anger boiled inside of her. What kind of man leaves his six-year-old daughter in the middle of the woods in a trailer alone?
Faith held her daughter close and rocked her back and forth. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I promise it will never happen again.”
When Bitsy finally dropped off to sleep, Faith tucked her daughter in tight and turned out the light. Removing the shotgun from the closet in their bedroom, she loaded two shells in the barrel and settled on the sofa to wait for Curtis.
Her father had tried to teach his three daughters to hunt. Sam took to it right away, eventually becoming their daddy’s favorite hunting partner. Although Jackie and Faith had never demonstrated much interest in killing birds, they’d learned to shoot a gun—a skill Faith never thought would pay off.
Nothing had turned out like Faith had hoped. She and Curtis once had dreams of buying a house on the creek. Faith wanted Bitsy to experience growing up on the water, to watch sunrises and sunsets, to learn to ski and sail and drive a boat. None of it was likely to happen with Curtis constantly out of work. She was stuck in a backwoods shack with a no-good husband. To make matters worse, she’d let Curtis force her into doing criminal acts that were morally wrong just so they could make ends meet. Even if no one ever found out, she’d never be able to forgive herself.
Curtis had never hit her, because she’d always avoided his temper. He lost his cool over the smallest things—when she was late fixing his dinner or she hadn’t washed his favorite Harley T-shirt. She’d seen him provoke fights in bars with beastly men four times his size. But tonight she didn’t care. Tonight she was angry enough to put a bullet in him.
Her husband came staggering in around three. Faith switched on the lamp beside the sofa, nearly blinding him with the bright light.
“Damn, woman.” His hand clutched his chest and he stumbled backward. “You scared the hell out of me.”
She aimed his shotgun at him. “If you ever leave my daughter at home alone again, I will shoot you dead.”
His eyes were slow to focus on the gun. “You don’t even know how to load that gun, you dumb bitch.”
When he took a tentative step forward, Faith pumped the gun, loading the shells into firing position. “You forget who my daddy was.”
He held his hands up. “Just calm down now, Faith. I would not have left Bits alone if I didn’t think she was safe. Nothing’s gonna happen to her way out here in the woods.”
When he tried to grab the gun, Faith rammed it in his belly.
He jumped back, crying, “All right, already. Just put the gun down. I won’t ever leave her alone again. I promise.”
“Consider this a warning, Curtis. I will not give you a second chance.”
Seven
Jacqueline
At half past midnight, only two couples remained on the dance floor, swinging to what the band promised would be the last song. The caterers cleared tables and the bartenders packed up their glasses while Jackie reveled in the success of the evening.
Even though Julia had failed to show, the crowd of nearly a hundred, based on Jackie’s estimate, seemed to enjoy themselves. The wannabes in attendance—the younger women on Jackie’s new tennis team and their tanned, broad-shouldered, golf-club-swinging husbands—would make sure the word spread. Jacqueline Hart’s fiftieth birthday party rocked.
The song ended, but when the lead singer saw Jackie standing on the edge of the dance floor, he launched into a slow, sexy version of “Happy Birthday.”
“I thought the song you just played was the last song,” Jackie shouted.
The music tapered off and the lead singer made a grand bowing gesture. “One more special song for you, pretty lady.” He signaled to his musicians who began playing Jackie’s favorite classic melody, “The Way You Look Tonight.”
Bill appeared from nowhere on the dance floor. “May I have the last dance?” he asked, holding his hand out to her.
She took a tentative step, realizing it would not only be the last dance of the evening but their last dance as a couple. This was their song. They’d danced to it on their first date, and they’d danced to it at their wedding reception. They’d made a stunning couple back then, with their bodies molded together, perfectly in sync.
Resting her chin on his shoulder, Jackie thought back to all the dances they’d shared over the years—their friends’ weddings, the endless benefits they’d attended, drunken New Year’s Eve parties at Julia’s. Now all those good times were coming to an end. Yet, as mad as she was at her husband for sleeping with another woman, Jackie knew she’d forgive him if he got on his hands and knees and begged. For the sake of their family, she would sacrifice her own feelings, demand he go to a marriage counselor, and find a way to move on with their lives. Not only to save face but to avoid having to face the future alone.
The song ended, and she blew the band a kiss.
“Let’s walk out on the dock,” Bill said. “I hate to waste a minute of this full moon.”
She allowed him to take her by the hand and lead her down the gravel path. They walked to the end of the dock and leaned against the railing, staring up at the moon. If the sick feeling in her gut was any kind of premonition, the moment she’d been dreading for weeks had come.
“You outdid yourself tonight, Jack. Everyone seemed to have a good time.”
“Everyone except my family. They left without saying goodbye.”
“That’s because of …”
She turned to face him. “Because of what?”
“Sam didn’t want to spoil your party, but I think you have a right to know. Your sisters took your mother to the emergency room. The doctors have reason to believe she may have suffered a ministroke.”
“Oh no.” Jackie’s hand went to her mouth. “I hope they are keeping her for observation.” As a cardiologist’s wife, Jackie understood the risk of a major stroke following a TIA.
“They are. And to run some tests in the morning.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
She snatched her hand away. His bedside manner no longer worked on her. “Why would Sam call you and not me? Lovie is my mother, not yours.”
“For obvious reasons, honey. I’m a cardiologist. Sam asked me to speak to the doctor on call, to make certain they are doing everything they can for Lovie. Which they are.”
“I should probably go to the hospital,” she said, making no move to leave.
“There’s no reason to go rushing over there tonight, Jack. Sam is with your mother. She will call us if she needs us.”
He sat down on the wooden bench, pulling Jackie down beside him. “I need to talk to you about my trip to the mountains.”
A chill that had nothing to do with the damp night air traveled Jackie’s spine.
“What about it?” Their plan had been in place for weeks. Bill would drive up with the boys on Saturday, spend the night in Asheville, and return Sunday after he delivered them to camp.
“The boys and I have decided to head up first thing in the morning. I want to spend a couple of days with them, alone, before I drop them off at camp.”
“But they haven’t finished packing.” She’d hardly seen Cooper and Sean since they’d gotten out of school. Selfishly, she was looking forward to spending the next two days with them before they headed off for three weeks.
“They’re doing that now. Carlotta is helping them.”
“But they had plans to go fishing with friends tomorrow.”
“Trust me, they are excited about going up early. I’ve made arrangements with a fly fishing guide for Friday.”
“Well … I suppose, since you’ve got it all worked out …”
“I was going to wait until tomorrow to tell you”—Bill glanced at his watch—“but what the hell? Technically, it is tomorrow.” He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. “I won’t be coming home from the mountains, Jack. I mean, I’ll be coming back to Prospect. I just won’t be coming back here. To this house.”
Jackie wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders, surprised at how calm she felt. She’d anticipated the moment for so long, she’d practiced over and over what she would say. “What you really mean is, you will be coming back to your new home, the one you’ve created with your blonde bimbo.”