Lacy's End

by Victoria Schwimley

  “After-party?”

  “It’s what he wants,” Taja had said. “And I don’t think I’ll be in any condition to organize it after his passing, so I’m doing it now.”

  Brenda had been shocked and uncomfortable, but when she spied the expectant smile on Richie’s face, she nodded. “I’d be honored to do it, but I won’t take any money for it.”

  Taja laughed. “Good, because I ain’t got money.”

  All three of them had roared with laughter. Brenda spent the rest of the visit asking Richie about his favorite foods. She wanted to make sure she included all of them in the menu.

  Brenda sighed at the memory and picked up her platter of goodies. She headed for the front door, eager not to be late for her volunteer shift. With the holidays so close, volunteers were in short supply.

  Struggling to open the door, she set down the platter on the grass and eased open the car door. As she did, her side mirror caught a glimpse of someone sprinting across the lawn behind her. Her heart skipped a beat when she thought she recognized Peter.

  Quickly, she threw open the door, grabbed the platter and jumped into the car, slamming and locking the door behind her. She turned in her seat, scanning the premises for any sign of him—nothing. She craned her neck to get a better look and sat perfectly still for several minutes. Nothing happened. She didn’t hear any cars start, no tires squeal, just the pounding of her own heart. She laughed uneasily. “You’re getting paranoid,” she scolded herself.

  She put the car in gear and pulled out of her parking space. Every so often, as she drove down the road, she would glance in her rearview mirror, looking for any signs that someone followed her. She began to breathe easier.

  She greeted the security guard with a big smile and a chocolate brownie. “Morning, James,” she said.

  He returned a hearty chuckle and a pat to his protruding midsection. “Good thing I’m working out,” he said good-naturedly.

  Brenda imagined he had a wife at home, cooking gourmet meals for him. “That’s great, James. You’re looking good.”

  James waved her through with a hearty chuckle and a flick of the wrist. “Go on now, Mrs.… I mean, Brenda, and go make those kiddies smile.” She hesitated a moment. “Was there something else?”

  She bit her lower lip, hesitated to ask her question, not wanting to come off as some paranoid lunatic. “Say, James, you haven’t seen my husband around, have you?”

  He shook his head. “He’s been in here a couple of times with one of his deputies.” He chuckled. “He said something about bringing along a witness to do police business, so you couldn’t accuse him of harassing you.” He shrugged. “I had to let him in.”

  She gave him a warm smile. “It’s fine. I was just wondering.” She inched forward. “Have a good day.” She saw him wave in her rearview mirror.

  She found a spot in the parking garage and got out of the car. She looked around with a new awareness. It unnerved her to know Peter had been on the hospital grounds without her knowing it. She slung her purse over her shoulder and bent in to retrieve her package.

  As she began to stand, she heard movement behind her. She swung around, eager to confront Peter and put a stop to this madness—even if she had to die in the process. Then three feet ahead of her, she saw a mother clutching her little boy’s hand tightly.

  He was singing a song and hopping on one foot. She walked on as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

  Brenda smiled, laughed lightly at her over-dramatic imagination and moved on. A few feet more and she heard footsteps rushing behind her. She whirled again, her mouth half-open in preparation to do battle. She clutched the mace can Allen had bought her tightly in her hand. She would not let Peter lay another hand on her—ever! She let out her breath. It was only a little man, clutching a bouquet of flowers, hurrying toward the elevators that would take him to the lower floors and into the hospital.

  While she knew well enough this man was no match for Peter, she felt better with the knowledge that another person was nearby. She rushed forward. “Hold the elevator, please.” The door began to close. “Please!” She called again, picking up the pace.

  The man reached out and put his foot in to stop it. Brenda nearly fell through the door. She probably would have if the man hadn’t reached out with his empty hand to steady her. “Whoa there,” he said, “You got demons chasing you?”

  She laughed nervously. If he only knew. “I’m late for a shift, that’s all,” she said, but she glanced back over her shoulder.

  “You sure you’re okay?” She nodded in response.

  When she saw him eyeing the platter of cookies, she extended it to him. “Have one.”

  His eyes lit up, but he shook his head. “That’s not necessary. It looks like you’re on your way to a party.”

  The elevator bell chimed and started to open. She peeled back one side of the plastic wrap. “Consider it payment for rescuing a damsel in distress.”

  He chuckled as they stepped from the elevator. They were on the ground level now. She could see the parking attendant and let out a breath of relief. “Well, if you’re going to put it that way.” He lifted one cookie from the tray and took a bite. “Mmm, mmm, these are fantastic,” he said. His eyes wandered back to the tray.

  Brenda laughed. “Thank you. Here, have another.” She peeled back the wrap again.

  He smiled. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

  “I’m pleased you like them so much.” She nudged the tray in his direction.

  He took a brownie this time and started to turn to walk away but turned back. “May I be so bold as to beg one for my wife? She’s awfully down about being in the hospital over the holiday, and I think this might be the thing to cheer her up. Her nose will be a bit out of joint that someone else bakes better than she does, but I won’t tell her that.” He grinned and winked. “She’s pretty smart, though. I think she’ll figure it out.”

  They both laughed as she handed him a brownie. “Tell her to get well soon, and I hope you have a happy holiday.”

  “Same to you,” he said.

  Brenda’s heart melted at the thought that this would be the first holiday season she looked forward to since her mother’s death.

  She watched him take a few steps and then turn back. “You might want to be careful about wandering around up there by yourself. One of the docs got his tires slashed, and I don’t think they’ve found the person who did it.”

  Brenda frowned. “When did this happen?”

  “Last night, I think. It’s a shame people have to be so mean. You know what I’m saying? Everyone should bake brownies.” He smiled and started walking.

  “Do you know who the doctor was?”

  He stopped, shook his head. “Naw. I never pay attention to that kind of stuff. My wife has so many doctors working on her that I lose track. It’s a Mercedes, is all I know. I walked by it right after it happened.” Brenda’s blood froze. Allen owned a Mercedes, but surely, he would have said something to her. Wouldn’t he? “He was a young guy—fighting mad, he was. Not that I blame him—all four tires slashed like that.” He shook his head, and she watched him walk away.

  She ran to find Allen. He was standing at the nurses’ station and turned his head when he saw Sheila nod in her direction. He caught sight of the tray and ran to help her.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” he said, easing the tray out of her hands.

  “The hell she didn’t,” Sheila said and ran to snatch the tray from Allen’s hands. “What good is it to have a master baker on staff if we can’t reap a little of the benefits once in a while.” She leaned toward Brenda for a hug. “Thanks, Brenda.”

  Brenda giggled and threw an arm around Sheila’s shoulder. “You’re welcome. Just make sure you save some for the night shift.”

  Sheila raised her eyebrows in a challenge. “Let them find their own damned baker. You’re ours.”

  She trotted off to the staff lounge, taking the tray with her, dashing an
y hopes Allen had of getting a sweet treat. Allen shrugged and held up his arms. Brenda smiled. “I figured something like that might happen.” She pulled a tin from her bag and handed it to him. “Your own personal stash.”

  He pulled her mouth to his and kissed her with purpose. “I knew I could count on you.”

  They started toward his office. She grew serious. “Did someone slash your tires last night?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “A patient’s husband told me. We shared an elevator ride. He warned me they hadn’t caught the person yet. Do you think it was Peter?”

  “Probably. I’ve seen him lurking around, but he hasn’t violated the restraining order. I can’t very well bar him from the hospital.”

  She frowned. “I guess not.” She kissed him quickly. “I have to get up to the ward. Taja’s probably waiting for me. She said she had an errand to run but didn’t want to leave Richie alone.”

  “Lunch later?” he asked.

  “If you can wait until two.”

  He snapped the lid off the tin of sweets and bit voraciously into a brownie. Through a mouth full of food, he mumbled, “I can wait.”

  She was halfway down the hallway, and he stood watching her back as she departed. She turned and threw him a kiss. “Eyes open,” he shouted after her.

  “Always,” she shouted back.

  When she arrived on the ward, she went straight to Richie. Taja waited anxiously. “Did you hear?” Brenda shook her head. “Richie’s going home for Thanksgiving.”

  She grinned with pleasure, wondering why Allen hadn’t mentioned it. “That’s great, Taja.”

  “I’m going to go and get him checked out. Will you stay with him?”

  “What about your errand?” she asked.

  “Not necessary now that my boy is coming home.”

  Taja’s errand was to go to the costume shop, dress up as a giant turkey and sing songs with her boy all day long on Thanksgiving. In all honesty, she didn’t feel Taja had all that much to be thankful for that year.

  Brenda watched her run off, her heart heavy with sadness. She knew the only reason Richie would be going home for the holiday was either he was improving drastically or it was nearing the end for him, and his wish to die at home was being granted. She knew from conversations with Allen the former was not the case. She admired Taja for her strength. For all her problems, losing a child to social services didn’t compare to the grief and hopelessness Taja surely must be feeling.

  She took a large book from her bag and sat down next to Richie. Several of the kids who were ambulatory gathered for the story. Those who weren’t able to join the group story patiently waited for her to read to them individually. Fortunately for her, there were only three currently bed-bound, and their beds were close enough together for her to read to all of them at the same time. She guessed this was cleverness on the part of the nurses.

  It was almost two by the time she finished reading the story. She looked up to find Allen standing in the doorway with a big smile plastered on his face. “You should have had more children,” he said. “It suits you.”

  Her smile dropped. “I couldn’t even care for the one God gave me. I don’t deserve another.”

  He let the comment go. No amount of protest on his part was going to assuage her guilt. He walked over to her and held out his hands. “My turn kids,” he said, pulling her into a standing position and kissing her lightly on the lips. Several cries of, “Yucky,” followed by giggles escaped the mouths of the kids. Just for fun, he kissed her again. This time, she giggled.

  “It’s meatloaf in the cafeteria. We’d better hurry before it’s all gone.”

  “By all means,” she said, grimacing, “you aren’t really going to subject a successful, gourmet chef, such as myself, to hospital meatloaf, are you?”

  “I could offer you an alternative of chicken noodle soup,” he said.

  “I’ll take it.”

  She waved goodbye to the kids, promised to be back soon. They were walking through the door when Taja reappeared.

  “Sorry I took so long,” she said. When she spied Allen, she broke out into a huge grin. “Hey there,” she said. “Did you hear the news?”

  Allen looked down at the floor. He had never been good at delivering bad news. “I heard. I don’t want…” He saw the expectant look on her face and didn’t have the heart to go on. He smiled. “I hope your family has the best holiday ever.”

  She beamed at him. “Oh, we will! I’m sure of it.” He ushered Brenda out the door.

  They rode in silence to the main floor, continuing their silence until they were seated at a table. Allen had the meatloaf with mashed potatoes. Brenda had chicken soup and half a cheese sandwich.

  “You were going to say, ‘don’t get your hopes up,’ weren’t you?”

  Allen put down his fork and looked Brenda in the eye. “They will have a much better holiday if they spend it in oblivion.”

  “Or they might cherish it more if they know it’s his last.”

  Pain softened Allen’s eyes. He looked down at his plate. He picked up his fork again. “That’s a hard decision to make.”

  Brenda lifted her spoon and ladled a mouthful of soup onto it. “I’d want to know if it was my last holiday with Lacy.” She put the spoon into her mouth.

  “I don’t think I can tell her that her son is dying this soon. She’s not strong enough for that.”

  “But he is, and she knows it. It’s the doctors who are keeping her hopes up.”

  A flash of anger crossed his face. “Look, Brenda. I don’t mean to shut you out of this, but he’s my patient, and I don’t think he or his mother is ready for the truth.”

  She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. “Are you sure it isn't you who's not willing to face the truth?” When he looked away, she touched his face to bring it back to hers. “You got too close to this little boy. I get it. I got close to him, too—and Taja, but they need to know it’s almost over. I know you wanted to cure him, but God has other plans.”

  “But all my research—”

  “Will help another child,” she finished. “Don’t give up. It’s just not ready for Richie.”

  He nodded, pushed away his plate. “I’ll tell her.”

  They stood and walked from the cafeteria, headed toward the oncology station. Suddenly, Brenda pulled Allen into a hallway. “He’s here.” She gestured around the corner.

  Allen slowly stuck out his head and peered around a corner. He yanked it back swiftly. “It’s Peter.”

  “Yes, that’s what I said.”

  “He can’t hurt us.”

  “He can,” she argued.

  She pulled his hand and led him down the hallway, away from the direction of where she saw Peter. She could hear Peter raise his voice to a nurse. “I have every right. I am still the sheriff in this town, and I demand respect. Now page Dr. Lover Boy or I’ll tear apart every room in this hospital looking for him.”

  “Perhaps I should see what he wants,” Allen said.

  “Bad idea,” Brenda said.

  “He’s going to disturb all the patients.”

  “I have a better idea.” She grinned at Allen and intentionally made a noise that distracted Peter’s attention. “Run,” she said, drawing Peter away from the nurses’ desk. She could see Sheila pick up the phone and hoped she was calling security.

  Peter took off on a run, screaming her name behind her. “Brenda! You disobedient bitch, you’d better stop this minute, or I swear I’ll hunt you down.”

  They ran through a pair of swinging doors that read AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY but weren’t surprised to see Peter burst through them.

  Allen turned right, pulling Brenda behind him, withdrawing a card from his pocket as they ran. He swiped the card, and they squeezed through a door as it opened. They prayed it would close fast enough but didn’t wait to see if it did.

  When they heard it slam against the wall, they knew Peter had also made it through. They
ducked behind a large palm tree. “Where is security?” Brenda whispered.

  “We don’t exactly employ a large police force here.”

  They made their way from the tree to a set of double glass doors that led to a solarium. There were patients scattered about—some talking to visitors, some reading a book, some just sitting. Brenda grabbed his arm, pulling him back through the door. He looked down at her hand on his arm. “Not in here. There are too many people.”

  He nodded and led her in the opposite direction. From a short distance down the hallway, they saw Peter enter the solarium and start yelling at patients. Allen was on the verge of turning back when Brenda said, “Wait. He’s coming back this way.”

  Peter turned just in time to see them go around the corner. They heard his feet thunder down the hallway. Up ahead there were two doors. One door led to an emergency exit and was plastered with stickers demanding people not to open unless there was an emergency. Allen headed straight for it. “No,” Brenda said. She pointed to the sign for the emergency exit.

  He glanced sideways at her as they were running. “This is an emergency.” He pushed open the door. Immediately a siren blared. Brenda covered her ears against the noise. Allen grabbed her arm and yanked her through the other door and slammed the door shut behind them.

  Brenda looked and saw clean linens, extra toilet paper, paper towels, stacks of pillows, and various other cotton supplies. “The housekeeping staff is terrible about remembering to lock supply closets—despite numerous reprimands.” He grinned. “I’ve never been so glad to have someone disobey orders.”

  “Shh,” she warned.

  They listened as Peter’s footsteps stopped briefly in front of the closet door, and then shouts of “Hey you,” came from down the hallway.

  “There’s your security,” Allen whispered.

  “That’s an emergency exit,” they heard the voice shout.

  Directly from the other side of the door, they heard Peter’s muffled voice. “I’m not stupid. I’m chasing a suspect, and he slammed through this door. You should lock down the hospital before he escapes.”