All acts of pleasure argi-7

by M. R. Sellars

  “No, it’s our problem.”

  “You know, I’m working really hard on making it not happen again.”

  “I know you are, but until we’re certain it won’t, you would be safer without me around.”

  “Dammit, Felicity, that’s a load of crap and you know it.”

  “No, Rowan, it isn’t, and you know it.”

  “Felicity…”

  “No. Stop it. You know I’m right about this.”

  “So, what if you are? What am I supposed to do, honey? Come out here daily and play Parcheesi with you in the rec room?”

  “You could,” she said with a nod. Then, for the first time during the entire drive here, she looked over at me. “But, I’d much rather you do something more constructive with your time.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Find her,” she choked, her voice starting to crack as her eyes moistened with fresh tears. “Find Miranda and make her leave me alone.”

  *****

  “No, Maggie, just slow down for a minute and listen to me,” I said into my cell phone, trying to stay calm while making my voice as stern as I could without losing control. “No one has been hurt. It’s a psychiatric hospital.”

  Of course, I was lying about no one being hurt, but since it was only me, I doubt it would have mattered. Besides, that wasn’t something she needed to know about anyway.

  I had spent several minutes laying out the story in my head, selectively removing unnecessary details, before making the call to tell my wife’s family we wouldn’t be making it to the gala holiday dinner. I hadn’t even been able to get half of it out yet, and we’d been on the phone for almost ten minutes.

  I listened for a moment as she gibbered excitedly on the other end, asking a mouthful of questions while not bothering to stop long enough for me to answer even one. I had been slowly pacing along a six foot or so stretch of the waiting area during the call, just to work off the nervous energy, but now I was feeling tired all over again. I stopped mid-step and planted myself on a plastic chair, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees then I closed my eyes as I continued to listen.

  When she finally stopped to take a breath I said, “Your daughter is not insane, Maggie, no one is saying that. Helen told me it looks like Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.”

  She immediately asked, “Who is Helen?”

  “Her doctor,” I replied. “Doctor Helen Storm. It just happens that she’s also a good friend of ours, so I tend not to be overly formal.”

  I could hear Shamus in the background, cursing and making demands. He wasn’t helping my mood at all, but at least it was Maggie doing the actual talking. She was a far cry from being a fan of mine herself, however, she always went out of her way to remain civil and try to tolerate the “damned and hell bound son-in-law”, which was more than I could say for her husband. In my book, whether she hated me or not, she still showed me a graceful courtesy and I appreciated it.

  “What is her room number, Rowan?” she asked.

  “One twenty-one,” I replied. “But she’s not in there yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “Paperwork and the like,” I said, shrugging out of reflex. “They’re supposed to get her settled in pretty soon though. They gave me a list of what she’s allowed to have, so once she’s in the room for a bit I’m going to run home and pack some things for her because we came straight here from Helen’s office.”

  “Why? Why is this happening so suddenly?”

  “It’s a long story, Maggie. All I can…”

  My sentence was interrupted by a click, and the phone suddenly adopted a hollow tone that told me an extension had just been taken off hook. Confirming my suspicion, a fresh and much less pleasant voice joined the conversation.

  “Aye, what have you done to her now?!” Shamus barked.

  “I’m not going to argue with you today, Shamus,” I replied.

  “Shamus William O’Brien!” Maggie barked, then her voice grew slightly distant as she pulled away from the mouthpiece on the phone. I could still make out enough of the one-sided conversation to discern the fact that she was calling for Austin to go occupy his father.

  A moment or two later, some muted voices and a few curses filled the earpiece but were finally silenced by a second click as the extension was hung up.

  “I apologize for that, Rowan,” Maggie said. “Please understand that he is concerned for Felicity.”

  “Yeah, Maggie,” I replied, surprising myself at being able to remain unruffled. “I know he is. So am I.”

  She paused for a moment then said, “I’ll get Shamus calmed down, and we’ll be there a little later. Is there anything we can bring her, or anything else we can do?”

  I dropped my forehead into my hand and sighed. I really wasn’t relishing the thought of dealing with the family face to face given this new turn of events. However, I couldn’t very well tell them not to visit their daughter. Something like that would definitely give my father-in-law a fresh load of ammunition.

  “I can’t think of anything,” I said. “But I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

  “What about you?” she asked.

  “No, Maggie, I’m fine. As I can be under the circumstances, anyway.”

  “Have you eaten?” she pressed.

  “Not yet, but I’ll grab something later.”

  “Nonsense,” she replied. “I’ll bring you a plate.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Maggie.”

  “I know I don’t have to, Rowan. I want to.”

  I wasn’t going to argue. My mother-in-law was a fantastic cook, and now that it had been mentioned, I took notice that my stomach was actually grumbling.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate it.”

  “Do you think they will let me bring a plate for Felicity as well, then?”

  “I can ask, but I doubt it will be a problem. I’ve seen a few visitors bringing stuff in.”

  “Good,” she replied then asked again, “Now, you’re certain there’s nothing else we can do?”

  I answered her in a tired voice. “I suppose that when you get here, you could convince your daughter that she doesn’t have a sister.”

  Why I said it was anybody’s guess. I suppose it was just an aberration born of fatigue, concern, the situation, and everything that I’d been told over the past few hours. Either way, the words tumbled out at a nonchalant cadence, and even after I’d spoken them, I didn’t pay the comment any serious regard.

  I sat for a moment and realized that Maggie had not responded at all.

  “Maggie? Are you still there?”

  “Why did you say that, Rowan?” she finally asked, a thin tremor in her voice.

  “What?”

  “Why does Felicity think she has a sister?” she pressed, her tone still off key.

  “It has something to do with the DNA tests the police did,” I replied, intrigued by the trepidation I was detecting. “The sample from the killer matched so closely with hers, the lab says she must have a sister.”

  The charged silence continued on the other end.

  I finally asked, “What’s wrong, Maggie? Is there something we should know? Does Felicity actually have a sister?”

  “I’ll be leaving Austin and Shamus here, then,” she replied slowly, the vocal tremor still in full force. “I should be there in thirty minutes or so. We need to talk.”

  CHAPTER 30:

  “Fourteen days?” I asked, the tone of my voice betraying both my confusion and surprise.

  “Yes, Rowan,” Helen replied. “A seven to fourteen day observation is fairly standard. I would rather err on the side of caution, hence fourteen.”

  My mind had been churning ever since getting off the phone with Maggie, and I had once again been checking my watch far too often in anticipation of her arrival. I actually welcomed the fistful of mundane paperwork as a distraction when Helen presented it-right up until I read this most recent paragraph.

  I shook my head
and raised an eyebrow as I looked back at her. “So you’re telling me that if I sign this, my wife is stuck here for a minimum of two weeks with no way out?”

  “No,” she replied. “I am saying that you are admitting her for fourteen days of therapy and observation within the confines of the hospital.”

  “You see it’s that word ‘confine’ that’s giving me the problem.” I stroked my finger beneath a paragraph on the sheaf of papers. “And, then there’s this legalese about not being able to leave the hospital grounds? Not to mention…Wait a minute, what do you mean I’m admitting her?”

  “It is simply a legal formality for her own safety.”

  “Break it down for me,” I urged, placing the pen carefully on top of the pages and folding my hands. “Because now I’m definitely not sure I care for the way it sounds.”

  “It is very simple, Rowan,” she explained. “By admitting Felicity in this fashion, she will be unable to sign herself out of the hospital. That can only be done by you, or by me.”

  “Me alone or you alone. It doesn’t take both of us?”

  “No. Either one of us can sign her out individually; although I would prefer you speak to me before doing something rash.”

  “Uh-huh. So, she can be signed out at any time?”

  “Yes, Rowan, at any time.”

  “Like, if I want her out of here tomorrow, I can come get her and we’re done. Finished. No ambulance with men in white coats chasing after us?”

  “I would not recommend that you do so, but yes, that is how it works. If you or I sign her out, she is free to leave. Rowan, stop being paranoid, this is not a prison, you know that.”

  “Yeah, I heard that somewhere before.”

  I stared back at her for a moment, not saying another word. I knew that she, of all people, wouldn’t lie to me about something like this, but I felt like I was perched on a very unstable precipice right now. I didn’t want Felicity to do this to begin with, but there was no talking her out of it. And, now it was somehow becoming my personal responsibility. The thing that kept going through my mind was that I was standing here committing my wife to an asylum. Though I knew that to be a somewhat archaic take on the situation, I guess I needed all of the assurances I could get.

  With a heavy exhale, I finally picked up the pen and scrawled my name on the admitting form, effectively placing my wife in the hospital’s hands for the next two weeks. I had a definite feeling that my notebook computer was going to be logging some serious hours because I was going to have work to do, but I also didn’t plan on straying far from this place if I could help it.

  “By the way,” I offered as I slid the papers along the countertop toward her. “My mother-in-law should be here any minute.”

  “Do you feel like that is going to be a problem?” she asked.

  “No, not necessarily. The reason I mentioned it, though, is that I was on the phone with her a little while ago, and she started acting weird when I brought up the sister issue. In fact, she is purposely coming down without the rest of the family and ended the conversation with something like ‘we need to talk’.”

  “Really?” she asked, her tone thoughtful. “Do you think there might be some family history that Felicity has somehow repressed?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know,” I said with a shake of my head. “Or maybe some she never knew about at all. All I can say is Maggie is a fairly unflappable type unless she thinks something dire has happened, but she started getting seriously flaky the minute I told her about the DNA tests. In fact, the sister thing was obviously what prompted that last ominous comment about needing to talk, so there’s something that’s been hidden away in a closet somewhere. I’m sure of that.”

  “So, is that all she said?”

  “Yeah, I’m afraid it was.”

  “Well, even if there is some sort of revelation regarding a female sibling, I do not believe it will be a panacea for Felicity’s mental state. She has been through far too much.”

  “It might help, though, right?”

  “It might,” she said with a nod. “But, then again, depending on what is divulged, it could be harmful instead.”

  “Not what I wanted to hear, Helen.”

  “You would prefer that I lie?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Then stop complaining.”

  “Yeah, right, and you believe that miracle will happen when?”

  She offered a thin smile. “Never.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, at any rate if we’re talking about a living, adult sibling, then I’m sure the police would be interested too.”

  “Undoubtedly, given what you have told me.”

  “Either way, I thought maybe I would see if she’d be willing to talk to both of us when she arrives.”

  “That certainly would not hurt.”

  “To be honest, I’m not sure if she will, but I’m going to try to talk her into it. Just do me a favor?”

  “What is that?”

  “If she agrees, try not to mention anything about the Lwa possession or anything else that went on last night, okay? It probably wouldn’t be a real good thing to lay on her.”

  She gave me a knowing nod. I knew that from my own sessions with her, at the very least, she was fully aware of the score when it came to my in-laws.

  “I believe that information would be covered under doctor-patient confidentiality anyway, Rowan,” she said. “You need not worry.”

  *****

  “I honestly hadn’t ever expected to be having this conversation,” Maggie said, shifting in her chair. She had calmed considerably since the phone call, but I could tell there was still a nervous streak underscoring her tone.

  Looking at my mother-in-law, it was easy to see from which parent Felicity had inherited her looks. Maggie was slight, just like my wife, and sported a shoulder-length coif of chestnut hair, although it was rapidly giving itself over to grey. Still, it softly framed her smooth, delicate features and bright eyes to form a pleasing and deceptively youthful visage. In fact, discerning her true age simply by looking at her would be no easy task. A box of hair dye from the corner store would instantly shave off a dozen years. And, though she was still extremely pretty, she had been an absolutely stunning sight in her youth. In fact, I had seen hard evidence of it from old family photos.

  “It’s okay, Maggie,” I replied. “I think that pretty much goes for both of us.”

  “Yes, I suppose that would be true, then,” she agreed. “Although for different reasons, I’m sure.”

  “If it would make you more comfortable, I will be happy to leave you two alone to talk,” Helen offered.

  “No,” Maggie replied hesitantly. “I think it may be important that you hear this.”

  “Yes, I will admit that any insight you can provide is most welcome, however, Rowan can fill me in later if you wish.”

  “No. You should hear it from me.” My mother-in-law paused, and her tenuous composure faltered for a moment as she suddenly blurted, “Is my daughter going to be all right?”

  “Yes,” Helen replied. “She is going to be just fine. She has simply dealt with far too much strife in a very short period of time.”

  It was the truth. It was just missing all of the gory details.

  “Maggie,” I started. “I hate to sound impatient, but I’m really looking for answers here, and I got the feeling when we were on the phone that you just might have one or two.”

  “It’s understandable, Rowan. You’ve dealt with more than your share of this, and we’ve given you little support where that is concerned.”

  “That’s not important right now. I’m hanging in there.”

  She grew quiet and looked down at her hands where they were resting in her lap. Her right was absently fiddling with her wedding set, twisting the rings in a circle. Every now and then she would pull them up the length of her finger, almost to the tip, then slide them back on and begin twirling the interlocking gold bands yet again.

  “I suppose I sh
ould give you a bit of background if this is to make any sense,” she said as she looked up, casting her glance between Helen and me, though her fingers continued to toy with the jewelry of their own volition. “To begin with, and this you may already know, Rowan, I am an identical twin.”

  I nodded. “Felicity mentioned it, and I think I’ve seen a picture or two in the photo albums.”

  “Yes,” she replied. “She may also have told you that, Caitlin, my twin, passed away many years ago. In fact, Felicity was very young.”

  I simply nodded.

  “Actually, the story the children were told was that their aunt was killed in an accidental car crash, but, that is only partially true.”

  She stopped and stared off into space for a long moment then shot us both an embarrassed glance before lowering her eyes to her lap once again.

  She continued. “That was nineteen seventy-two. One would think I could have come to terms with it by now.”

  “If you have been hiding painful details for all this time,” Helen offered, “then it is unlikely you could actually come to terms with the event, as you have not allowed yourself to do so.”

  “Yes,” Maggie replied without looking up. “I suppose you are correct. But it was necessary. We simply didn’t feel a need to burden the children with the embarrassing truth.”

  “You said Felicity was very young. Austin isn’t that much older,” I observed. “Would they have even understood?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “But they both adored Caitlin. Especially, Felicity. I believed then that our decision in sheltering them was correct, as I would now were it not for this turn of events.”

  I nodded then offered, “But, they aren’t children any more, Maggie. They grew up.”

  She looked up at me with a soft smile that held a small hint of pity. “Yes, Rowan, they are still children. I know it sounds cliche, but they always will be, no matter what their ages. But, one must be a parent to truly understand that.”

  “I’ll give you that,” I replied.

  Any other time I would have taken the comment as a diaphanously veiled reference to the fact that so far, neither Austin nor Felicity had produced a grandchild. Of course, I had a valid reason for the assessment because we had all heard the contentious remark several times in the past, though I’m certain they would prefer a set of genes in their pool that didn’t belong to me. However, I could easily tell by her tone that this time she was sincere in what she had just said, and no goading or malice was intended.