by Elle Casey
The nurse glances up at me and we share a look of sadness together. This is not good, her expression says.
“Maybe you’ll change your mind tomorrow,” I say, holding back my sorrow. My brother doesn’t need my pity right now, he needs my strength, so that’s what he’s going to get — like it or not.
“Tomorrow I’ll be outta here, and fuck you for putting me here.” He’s growling as he strains against his bindings.
“You’re not going anywhere tomorrow. You’re on a forty-eight hour hold and I’m going to see about making it fifteen days.”
Jeremy’s body arches up off the bed at that little bit of information, and then he just starts screaming.
“I think maybe you should just step outside for a bit,” says the nurse, pushing on my arm. It’s only because I’m a physician with privileges at the hospital that I’m allowed in here at all, so I take her advice and leave the room.
Once we’re outside the door and it’s shut, she looks up at me. “He just needs to detox and then he’ll be more in the mood to talk.”
“Hopefully,” I say, speaking the words I know are in her head.
“Yes, hopefully.” She rests her hand on my arm. “These things take time. You did the best thing for him. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”
“Oh, trust me, I’m not.” Not really. Maybe a little.
The nurse’s hand moves up towards my elbow, stroking me a little. “I’m here for you, if you have any questions or concerns about his meds. I know you’re not the attending, but you’re family and I know you understand what we’re doing here.”
I take a step back, knowing the next step will be her giving me her personal cell number in case I want to get in touch with her after hours. This happens all the time, but I’m a big believer in keeping business and personal lives separate. Hospital drama is notorious for making people miserable and I’ve already got a corner on the market for that emotion.
I glance at her name tag, not personally familiar with the nurses in the psyche unit. “Thanks, Jennifer, really, I appreciate it. You can let Jeremy know I’ll stop by tomorrow when he’s feeling better.”
She nods. “I will. Would you like my number? In case you need to talk about his care after hours?” She gives me that knowing look, a simple invitation that part of me hates myself for turning down. I could lose myself in some hot sex right now, I really could. But maybe I’m already lost enough as it is.
“No, that’s all right. I’m going to let things take their course and not interfere.”
“Okay, suit yourself. I’m here if you change your mind.” She turns to head down the hall, leaving me there alone.
As I make my way to the elevator, I wonder how I’m going to bring this up with my sister. Jana already has so much shit to deal with. Do I really want her freaking out about Jeremy? Coming to visit him with Cassie on her hip?
Then I imagine her expression when she finds out after the fact that I’ve had Jeremy committed and he’s been in the hospital for a while, when I turn a corner and almost run into someone.
“Whoa, sorry about that,” she says, jumping to the side, barely avoiding plowing me over.
As soon as I see her scruffy hairdo and crazy bag, I recognize her. The Bag Lady.
“You,” I say, blinking a few times to be sure I’m not hallucinating. “I can’t believe it. Are you stalking me or something?” As if I didn’t have enough on my plate that I’d need to deal with a crazy stalker. Jesus, what next?
She stands there for a few seconds with her mouth hanging open and her hair flying all over the place. Then her hand goes to her hip and she sticks her jaw out.
“Excuse me, but I’m here to see a patient.” She suddenly has an accent I hadn’t noticed before. She must be from Boston. “What’s your excuse for almost knocking me over again?” She points at my suit and then my tie.
I’m confused enough that I’m lost for words. But that doesn’t affect her in the slightest. Before I can think of a response, she’s off and running again.
“Never mind,” she shouts out. “I totally don’t care.”
I spin around in time to see her jump into an elevator and the doors slide shut behind her.
I stand there staring at the wall and blinking. What in the hell just happened? Am I being stalked or do I just have the worst luck in the entire world? I’m starting to wonder if getting rid of that ring had any effect at all. I’d thought it was a bad talisman, but maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m the walking embodiment of bad luck. Maybe I’m to blame for crazy people stalking me and covering me in god-knows-what. Fountain water? Rain water? Sweat?
My feet are finally working again, so I let them take me to the front of the hospital. I’m headed for the doors, but then take a quick detour to the welcome desk. An older woman I recognize as one of our most decorated volunteers smiles at me.
“Hello, Doctor Oliver. What can I do for you today?”
Her dentures are almost blue they’re so perfectly white.
“Hello, Esther.” I give her my panty-dropper smile. It works like a charm on the older ladies especially. “I was just wondering if you could tell me about a visitor here. Someone who just left your desk probably.” Normally I wouldn’t be allowed access to this information, but I’m kind of an expert at getting ladies to break the rules. And yes, I’m proud of that.
She frowns, maybe a little confused. “A visitor?”
“Yes, a woman who has this crazy kind of hair…,” I make motions above my head to indicate a halo of frizz, “… a skirt and a big purse? She was coming to visit a patient, she said.”
Esther’s smile comes back and it has a sneaky edge to it. “Ohhhh, so you want to know her name, is that it?”
“Yes, and the room she’s going to, if that’s not too much trouble.”
I have no idea why I’m asking for this woman’s information. I’m telling myself it’s because I want to make sure I’m protecting myself from a potential stalker, but I really cannot picture her being a danger to anyone. Not with that hair. Not with that skirt. She looks like a gypsy reject. A cute one if I’m being honest. The kind that drinks a lot of wheat grass. Not that I care.
“Well, it says on my clipboard here that her name is Leah Wallace and she’s visiting her father in room four-oh-eight. She mentioned something about her husband having tuberculosis? From Zimbabwe?” Esther waves a hand in the air in front of her. “I don’t know. She seems kind of looney to me.”
“And so she is.” I knock the top of the counter. “Thank you, Esther. Have a wonderful day.”
“You too, Doctor Oliver. See you again real soon.”
“Yes, indeed,” I say as I walk away.
Yes, indeed. Now that my brother’s been committed here, everyone will be seeing me way more than I would like.
I let out a long sigh as I put my hand up out on the curb. Time to catch a cab and head over to my attorney’s office. My work as big brother never seems to be done.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
I’M BACK IN BROOKLYN AGAIN, but this time I’ve brought Chinese food with me from the city. My sister forewarned me that she wasn’t in the mood to cook.
When I walk in the door the first thing that hits me is the smell. It’s like the bottom of a trash can. I remember then that I promised to get a housekeeper in here and I pause to grab my phone and tap out a text to my secretary. She should still be in the office.
Veronica, get a housekeeper scheduled to come to my sister’s place in Brooklyn 3x a week starting tomorrow. Bill it to the office.
I close my phone and slide it into my pocket. Problem solved.
“Jana, where are you?” I call out, cocking an ear to listen for the answer.
I get nothing.
Grabbing clothing and toys as I walk up the stairs, I follow my nose. It leads me into Cassie’s room and a plastic garbage pail overloaded with dirty diapers. Snagging it, I hold it at arm’s length and leave the room. I pass by three other bedrooms and find them
all empty, all a shambles. It looks as though my sister hasn’t run a vacuum in here in weeks. Our dearly departed mother would have had a heart attack at what I’m seeing. I’m pissed at myself for not getting help out here sooner.
Knowing Jana’s probably outside with the baby, either taking a walk or sitting on the back stoop, I make myself busy with emptying trash cans, piling up dirty clothes, and throwing toys into a basket in the living room. Jana insists Cassie needs the visual stimulation, despite the fact that I have reminded her often that she’s only three months old and probably can’t see past the end of her nose yet. But what do I know. I’ve never had a kid, never even been around one for more than a few hours at a time.
That thought reminds me that I have to take responsibility for this mostly blind, pooping machine very soon. I need to figure out exactly what day it is so I can buy some things. I pause in my housekeeping to send another message out by text.
Veronica, I’m watching Cassie one day in a week or so. Find out the date and order me some stuff on Amazon, delivered to the apartment.
The cell goes back in my pocket and I walk to the back of the house, looking out the windows to try and find my sister.
“Jana?” I push open the back door.
“Shhh, we’re out here,” she says.
She’s sitting on a bench near the small fountain Jeremy built, rocking Cassie gently in her arms.
“She sleeping?” I whisper as I go down the stairs into the micro-sized back yard that’s divided off from the neighbor’s places by a bamboo fence.
She nods.
“The housekeeper will be here tomorrow,” I say softly. “Sorry it wasn’t today.”
She shrugs. “No big deal.”
It’s tempting to say it’s a very big deal, that no one should live in such a mess, but I keep my comments to myself.
“Got you some Chinese,” I said.
Jana yawns. “Excellent. I could use a little MSG pick-me-up.”
I hold out my arms. “Let me have her.”
“No, she’s sleeping.”
I walk over and take the baby anyway. “My turn. Go brush your teeth or something.”
She slaps me on the arm as she walks by. “Rude.”
I smile down at my niece. I know exactly how to get rid of my sister. She’s probably all paranoid now, thinking that I’ve seen something green in her teeth, and she’ll floss for ten minutes over it.
“Don’t ever tease your Auntie Jana about her teeth,” I whisper to Cassie. “She hates that. She also hates when you tell her that her butt looks big in jeans. Only use that comment when you want her to run away screaming.”
“I heard that!” Jana says from the back stairs.
I stand up and turn around, cringing when Cassie’s eyes open a little and roll up into her head. I find myself holding my breath until her lids close again.
We follow Jana back into the house and I sit at the table while my sister takes the food out of boxes and puts it onto plates for us. She uses the paper ones that were in the bag, I suspect because all her regular ones are dirty. The sink is full.
“I talked to the attorney. He’s getting the paperwork done.”
Jana sighs heavily. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” She pulls two sets of chopsticks out of the bag and rips the paper from around them.
“It’s the best idea we have. You need the legal power to care for Cassie.”
“But Jeremy’s going to get upset.”
“Jeremy is not going to get upset, because if he does get upset, I’m going to punch him in the face.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yes I do. I’m tired of his shit.”
“No cussing in front of the baby.”
“Okay, fine, I’m tired of his doo-doo.” I smile down at the baby who smiles back in her sleep, her lips winking up at the corners a few times. I’m definitely her favorite. I’ll wait until later to brag about it to Jana.
“He’s just hurting.”
“He’s just self-destructing. I had him committed today.”
She slams down a box of moo goo gai pan. “You what?!”
When I respond I say it to Cassie, not Jana. I can’t look at my sister’s angry face right now. It might cause me to doubt myself. “I got a call from a police officer who arrested him for public intoxication. They said they could put him on a forty-eight hour hold over at Bellevue, so I told them to go ahead.”
“And how did Jeremy take it?” she asks, her temper somewhat more subdued.
“As you could imagine. He flipped.”
“Did he leave?”
“He can’t.” I move the baby off to the side so I can set myself up to eat. Jana has dumped half of all the food boxes onto my plate and their contents have all bled together. I’m not going to complain, even though this violates my number one rule of eating, namely that no one food should be touching another until I say so. Jana knows this about me, and this is her way of telling me she’s pissed.
“Why because you say so?”
“No.” I grin up at her. “Because he’s tied to the bed.”
Her jaw drops open. “You aren’t serious.”
I lose my smile. “I sure as hell am.”
She’s sputtering, but I cut her off.
“Listen, Jana, do you have a better idea? Because I’d love to hear it.”
“Yes, I have a better idea!”
I sit back and gesture at her with my chopsticks. “Okay, then, let’s hear it. I’m all ears.”
“We could get him into treatment.”
“Not when he’s wasted. He refuses treatment. We have to get him sober first.”
“We could get him sober at home.”
“No we can’t. We’ve tried already.”
“I haven’t tried.”
I laugh bitterly. “And how are you going to do that with Cassie on your hip?”
Jana’s face twists up in several directions as tears well up in her eyes.
I don’t wait to hear her defense.
“Just let me handle it, okay?” I put the chopsticks down and lift Cassie a little. “You’re handling this situation, I’ll handle the Jeremy situation.”
“Cassie is not a situation.” Jana drops down ungracefully into the chair across the table from me.
“She is a situation. A cute, gassy, adorable, one, but a situation nonetheless. She needs to be handled, Jeremy needs to be handled, and this guardianship is all a part of that.” I lean over and plead. “Please, Jana, do this. It’s for Cassie and for Jeremy, even if he doesn’t see it that way right now. I promise you, he will in the future.”
“If he’s even still speaking to me then.”
“He will. I swear to you, he will.”
“Or what? You’ll pound him?”
I nod. “Into the ground if necessary.”
She shakes her head as she picks up her chopsticks. “I never understood the way you guys communicate.”
“Sometimes fists speak more effectively than words.”
“If you’re a caveman, maybe.”
“Urph. Goombala goo.” I growl a little for effect.
“You are a complete idiot,” she says, trying to hold back her smile.
“Ba goo doo rah mah boo.” I frown, poking a chopstick out at her.
She laughs. “Keep joking. We’ll see who’s grunting and caveman talking after your weekend with Cassie.”
“Weekend?” My heart seizes up. “Who said anything about a weekend? I thought it was for one evening?”
She smiles even bigger. “Oh, did I say that? Yeah. I meant weekend. Friday, Saturday, Sunday.”
“Friday?! I have patients on Friday!”
“I already checked with Veronica. You’re done at six. You can pick Cassie up at seven.”
I frown at my lo mein and then my niece. “I think I just got bamboozled, Cassie.”
She squirms and farts.
Jana starts snorting she’s laughing so hard.
I sigh deeply a
nd then stab my chopsticks into my noodles. “This is the story of my life,” I say, before stuffing my mouth full of soy-sauced goodness. At least I have Chinese food.
“I recommend you buy a crib,” Jana says, “and a rocking chair.”
I try to say, “And I recommend you buy a nanny,” but she can’t understand a word of it because I have too many noodles in my mouth.
“Caveman,” she says.
I don’t respond. My mind’s too busy panicking over being a single father for two days. I have no fucking clue what to do with a baby for more than fifteen minutes; what am I going to do with one for forty-eight hours? I have a sneaking suspicion that Jeremy’s forty-eight hour commitment is going to be a lot easier to manage than mine.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I SHOULD BE FULL AND completely sated after my meal and dessert at Jana’s, but I’m back at my condo feeling empty inside. I convince myself it’s a digestion issue and pour myself a glass of whiskey.
The night is perfect. Balmy for Manhattan in the middle of summer, with a sky full of stars. I sit out on my terrace, staring at the buildings across the street from me, wondering about the lives of the people who live in there. My vision’s too blurry to be able to see inside their windows.
The evening spent with the girls has made me sentimental. I miss Cassie’s mom. She was such a great girl. The best sister-in-law a guy could ask for. She was cool. She could pop open a beer top with a lighter and drink it down like a champ, but she never over-indulged. She was a great cook, a real down-home kind of girl who loved to cook and have family gatherings. The Sunday dinners were her idea and before she came into our lives, we never felt so close. She changed us all, and now it felt like we were changing back again, back into the separated cold people we used to be when our father ruled the roost.
My phone buzzes and I take it out of my pocket to see who’s there.
I need to come get my things, the message says.
Hilary.
I’ve put her clothing and odds and ends in boxes stacked by the front door. Should I let her come get them now? It feels like a bad idea considering the fact that I’m lonely as hell and halfway to drunk. But I type out the text anyway.
