Invisible Ellen (22 page)

After a few more minutes, Temerity called Runt back and fastened his leash again. “Let's go home,” she said. “I'm depressed, and you know what I want when I'm depressed?”

“Breakfast?” Ellen asked, hoping she could read minds.

“And lots of it!”

Runt barked to show that he too was psychic.

After visualizing a meal of sweet buns and bacon the whole way back to the loft, Ellen was surprised when Temerity started pulling vegetables out of the fridge. She set Ellen to work washing and slicing tomatoes, green and red peppers, and onions, and then had her whisk four eggs in a bowl while she heated a pan. Ellen stood savoring the smell of the sweet onions with her mouth watering as Temerity sautéed the veggies into a kind of sauce, then added in the eggs and some shredded cheddar cheese and folded it all together. The result, Temerity announced as she slid it from the pan onto a plate, was a Spanish frittata. She cut it into triangular slices like pie and they ate it with their fingers, using dish towels as napkins.

Vegetables, Ellen was discovering, were not just the pile of green pond scum slopped onto a plate in her group home or school cafeteria. Those overcooked frozen vegetables hadn't been something that could be readily carried off to closets to eat while reading. Snack foods wrapped in cellophane had been much easier to secrete away for later, thereby avoiding mealtimes. It came as a surprise to her that vegetables could be tasty and portable, but a good surprise. By the time the last bite had been wiped from their fingers, Ellen's eyelids were drooping. She yawned.

“Sleepy?” Temerity asked.

“Yeah, I haven't slept since yesterday.”

So Temerity took her to what she called the choir loft. The door off the main living area opened onto a short hallway. Next to a double
door, which Temerity opened to show Ellen her own bedroom, was a narrower single door, not much bigger than a linen closet. It opened to reveal a flight of steps. They went up, single file, to a small, long room with a round window at the end. There was a desk, a shelf with lots of books, a lamp, a closet, a bathroom, a queen-size bed, which seemed huge next to Ellen's single mattress, and a pile of pillows that seemed to wink at Ellen, as though they were saying,
Come on, you know you wanna
.

Waiting only long enough to make sure that Ellen had everything she wanted, Temerity said she had to go and practice, and left her alone.

Cautiously, Ellen sat on the corner of the bed. It gave, but supported her firmly. She bounced it a bit, and it bounced her back. She kicked off her shoes, climbed up into the piles of white comforter and cushions, wrapped herself in a nest of them both and passed out.

When she woke, her eyes focused on the charming wall clock. Ellen smiled, feeling no confusion about where she was or why she was here.
How nice,
she thought,
to have something just because it was charming
. It was two thirty. She'd been asleep for only six hours, but she felt refreshed. She decided that this must be because the room had been so quiet and, for the first time she could remember, she had not woken, not even once. A normal day's sleep for her was interrupted more than a dozen times.

She washed her face and brushed her hair, keeping her eyes away from the mirror. She was amazed to find that there was not only everything she needed in the small bathroom's cabinet, but everything she could have wanted. She looked with longing at the actual bathtub, big enough for even her bulk to lie back in, but she knew that Temerity wanted to go visit J.B. before the day was over, so she cautiously promised herself that treat later.

As she made her way down the single flight, she remembered Temerity telling Cindy that maybe her luck had changed, though she hadn't used those words exactly, and Ellen thought,
Me too
. She'd spent her life living day-to-day, hoping for nothing more than to get through each one unnoticed and unscathed. But she'd cooked breakfast with Temerity, had a wonderful sleep and would treat herself to a warm, maybe even hot, bath tonight.

She smiled. It was so much easier to expect nothing and be all right than to expect something and be disappointed. Still . . .

Temerity was sitting in the huge open room in a square of sunshine streaming in through one of the windows. Just sitting. Her face was turned up to the warmth and her palms rested, turned up, on her thighs. She heard Ellen approaching and turned her head slightly, speaking in a lazy, relaxed manner. “Sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you,” Ellen told her. “Did you, uh, practice?”

“Yes, I'm glad it didn't disturb you.”

“Oh, I forgot to ask, how was your concert the other night?”

Temerity smiled and got up. “Fun. We play the same program again next weekend. Some guy's cell phone went off in the middle of the second movement. Antoine was pissed.”

Having no idea who Antoine was, Ellen made no comment.

“I made you a sandwich. Why don't you have it while I find my shoes and get my stuff, then we'll head out. Okay?”

“Sure.” Ellen looked for the sandwich. She saw a plate on the counter, covered with a dish towel. That must be it. She started over.

“I hope you like chicken salad with nuts and apples!” Temerity called out as she passed by the sofa.

Ellen lifted the towel. Underneath was a fat sandwich, but the bread was suspiciously brown and looked like it had seeds in it.
Cautiously, Ellen picked up half and sniffed at it. It smelled surprisingly sweet. She looked at the filling: chunks of chicken, some kind of nut, and little dices of green apple. “I like apples,” Ellen called after her, though she didn't mention that she had only added them in their raw form to her list of eligible foods a couple days ago.

“Oh, and I used nonfat yogurt because we were out of mayo,” Temerity called as she vanished into the hallway.

Ellen took a bite. The bread was firm but yielding; it had more substance than the white bread she usually ate, which mushed immediately into the doughy paste from which it had come. The nuts and the chicken were satisfying, and the apples were crisp and sweet in the light sauce. She took another bite, and then another.

There was a lot more to this food thing than just salty and sweet she decided as she finished off the first half of the sandwich. Temerity had left a glass of cold milk next to the plate, and she drank it, amazed at how well it quenched her thirst.

Ellen patted her stomach with contentment. She felt the luxury of not immediately wanting to eat something else, and it hadn't been, for her, very much of a lunch. Maybe these seeds and fruit and stuff filled you up more; she thought she'd read that somewhere.

“Okay, let's hit it.” Temerity was back, wearing a dark jacket over jeans and boots with thick soles, like she was in the army. They looked both solid and comfortable. Ellen glanced down at her only pair of shoes, the Converse. One lace was dirtier and shorter than the other. “I should get some boots like that,” Ellen said. “I'll bet they last a long time.”

“At least you got some new sneakers. I like them,” Temerity said.

Ellen just grinned. “Me too,” she said.

“Much quieter,” Temerity added. “And a better tread, I'll bet.”

“That's what I was going for,” Ellen told her. Then added experimentally, “Stealth and traction.”

“Your nimbility factor,” Temerity said, “has definitely improved. I told you it would.”

Ellen felt the tingling, pleasant sensation of little bubbles in her chest, like when you drink a soda too fast after you open it. She nodded in agreement, but only for her own benefit. She had somehow known it would too.

T
he guard at the hospital was, thankfully, the same one from before, and he remembered Temerity.
Who wouldn't,
thought Ellen. “Go on through,” he gestured when Temerity and Ellen approached the desk, though, of course, only to Temerity. For a second, his eyes wavered in Ellen's direction, and then he called out to someone approaching behind her.

“I think we should take J.B. something,” Temerity said, pausing near the open doors of the cafeteria. Ellen didn't need to ask how she knew that they were outside the food court because the smell from the hot food was wafting liberally out into the lobby. “What does he like?”

“Cigarettes?” Ellen suggested, her nose wrinkling at the idea.

“No, silly. I mean like some soup, or candy maybe. What do you think?”

“Soup is good for sick people. Right?” Wasn't that what TV moms always gave their kids when they stayed home?

“Let's do it.”

They went in, Ellen filled a to-go container at the self-service line with something thick and creamy that had green flecks in it, then
she gave it to Temerity and they went up to the cashier. “Hi,” Temerity said.

“Hello there, missy. That will be four fifty.” The man, an elderly gentleman, was perched on a stool in front of the register. He watched with kindly eyes as Temerity selected the bills, separated into different holders in a special wallet, and handed them to him. He made change and they started off.

“Have a nice day, ladies,” the man called out.

Ellen froze and turned back, but the checker was already chatting amiably with the next customer, a nurse in Winnie the Pooh scrubs.

Temerity drew in a breath. “Did he see you? Did you drop something or bump into him?”

“No,” Ellen said. “He looked in my direction. People do that sometimes, but he didn't stop smiling or look shocked. When people do have to see me, there's always a reaction. Maybe he was talking to someone else.”

“Maybe,” Temerity said, but she sounded thoughtful.

Across the lobby, Ellen spotted someone that made her draw up short. “What's she doing here?” she asked.

“I'd tell you,” Temerity said, slightly annoyed, “but that would involve my being able to see who you're talking about.”

“It's Susan Newland.” Thoughts and possibilities began to swirl and compete in Ellen's head. Was she here for a different child? Was she ill? Maybe she had found a way to make Cindy give her back the baby. “She just went past the entrance toward the elevators.”

“Change of plan,” Temerity said. “We're going with her.”

“But . . .”

“We're going where she goes,” Temerity insisted. She held up the bag with the soup container. “This should keep for twenty minutes or so, and there's always more where this came from.”

Resistance, as Ellen had noted before, was useless. So they fell in behind Susan, who seemed uncertain of her destination. She kept referring to a piece of paper in her hand. Eventually they found themselves in a large, very busy waiting room. On the door it said
PEDIATRIC CLINIC
.

Susan went straight to the receptionist and murmured something they couldn't hear. The young man checked his computer while Ellen and Temerity took a seat just inside the door in the large waiting room, which was filled with thirty or so members of various families. The receptionist told Susan, “We'll call you.” Looking decidedly nervous, Susan sat, clenched her hands firmly in her lap and watched the door.

They didn't have to wait long. Within five minutes, the door opened and Ellen looked up to see Cindy and Janelle coming in. With them, a tall, handsome man was holding a detachable car seat with the baby inside. Ellen assumed this must be Janelle's husband and told Temerity as much.

“She's scrunching up her face,” Cindy was saying as she peered anxiously at the baby. “Do you think something is hurting her?”

“No. All babies scrunch up their faces,” Janelle said with a laugh. “It's not like they—” Her words died midsentence as she spotted Susan rise to her feet and start toward them.

Her husband followed her look and immediately placed himself between the two women, handing the carrier off to Janelle. “This has to stop,” he said calmly but firmly. It was clear he had the same class and self-possession as his wife. “Please don't make me file for a restraining order. Your husband has already—”

“I know, and I'm here to apologize for that,” Susan said quickly, laying a gentle hand on the tall man's wrist to disarm him. “I'm so sorry. I wanted to tell you that I didn't have anything to do with that.
I didn't even know anything about it. When I found out, I—well. He won't bother you anymore. I'm sorry,” she said again, as though repetition would underline it. Her eyes were moist, and she could barely keep her voice steady.

“How did you know we'd be here?” Janelle asked. The question was stern but gentle.

“The hospital hasn't corrected the records yet. I got a call to confirm Samantha's blood test. That's how I knew. Is she all right?” She sounded so genuinely anxious that Janelle visibly relaxed.

“She's fine. There was a tiny bit of jaundice, and they just want to make sure it's all cleared up.”

“Oh thank God.” Susan exhaled. “I was so worried. I know it's not my . . . well. I'll go now. I just wanted to tell you that you won't be hearing from Edward anymore.” She said this last to Cindy. “And I'm so sorry that he put you through that.”

The girl smiled at her. “Thank you,” she said. She reached out and took Susan's hand. They held on like sisters who had been separated for a long time. “I could see how much he wanted this, for you, I mean, and I know it's hard for some men when they can't control something. You know what I mean?” Susan looked so grateful, but she only nodded and Cindy went on. “My dad was like that, he got mean and angry when he was really scared. I want you to know that I'm really sorry too about how things worked out, I mean for you,” Cindy said. “I know you'll be a great mom someday. You and your husband will have a family.”

But Susan's eyes had dropped at the word “husband,” and her mouth, lips pressed tightly together, quivered. She cleared her throat and spoke. “That's very kind of you to say, but Edward and I have separated for good this time.” She shook her head, closing her eyes
for a moment. “That's why he overreacted. He thought maybe I would stay if he could fix it . . . but . . . well, this whole situation, I saw a side of him that . . .” She paused. “. . . that I guess I knew was there, but I pretended wasn't, or that I convinced myself was something else before. I can't . . .” She broke off again, squeezed Cindy's hand and then released it. “But enough about me.” She laughed awkwardly. The other three were all watching her with sympathy. “You've got your hands full. Take good care of her. And be happy,” Susan said, forcing joviality that clearly wasn't in her grasp at that moment. Then she turned and walked toward where Ellen and Temerity were sitting next to the exit.

Ellen felt a rising panic. This was wrong. Something needed to happen that wasn't happening. This woman shouldn't leave this way. She meant well, and she was really hurting. Someone needed to help her. In a flash, it came to Ellen.

“Stop her,” she whispered to Temerity. “You have to stop her.”

“What?”

“Just do it!” Ellen couldn't remember ever giving someone an order in her life, and it didn't come easily, but somehow she felt a part of her would die if she let Susan Newland walk out of this hospital alone and broken. “Please?” she added.

“Okay, then.” Temerity jumped up. Turning her back to the room, she pulled the soup from the plastic bag and loosened the cap. “Say when,” she whispered to Ellen. Susan came level with them and Ellen gave Temerity a little shove in the small of the back.

Temerity took a confident stride forward, right into Susan Newland, and the still-hot soup went careening all down the front of Susan's perfectly pressed white blouse and gray slacks. Susan gasped and tried to swipe off the hot soup with her bare hands.

“Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry,” Temerity said, using her own hands to feel for Susan's bent-forward position. “I didn't see you.”

Susan was gazing down at the wreckage with her mouth agape. She shook some lumpy bits off her hands and said almost hysterically, “How could you not see me? I mean, you walked straight into . . .” She looked up at Temerity's blank eyes and her admonition throttled itself with a gulp. “I'm sorry. It's all right,” she said, the tears in her voice choking her now. “I'm sorry I was rude. It was an accident. I'm just having a really, really, really bad day.”

“I'm really sorry to hear that,” Temerity said. “Let me help you. There must be a restroom nearby.”

“No, no, I'll find it. Thank you, though.”

“I insist,” Temerity said. “And I'm going to pay for your clothes to be dry-cleaned. It's my fault. Blindness is no excuse for throwing a perfectly good chowder at someone.”

In spite of herself, Susan laughed a little and then moaned, “And I've got to be back in court in forty minutes. What else can go wrong today?”

“Are you a lawyer?” Temerity asked as though she was both surprised and impressed.

Susan was looking down the hall. “Oh, there's the restroom. I really need to . . . go pull myself together.” The last thread restraining her fragile grasp on self-control snapped and she broke down completely, covering her face with her cream-of-broccoli-saturated hands.

Temerity said softly, “Come on, let's go clean this up and you can tell me about your really, really, really bad day.” She grasped Susan's arm with one hand and stroked it reassuringly with the other.

“That would be nice,” Susan said in a muffled sob. She sounded like she was four.

Excellent,
thought Ellen. Temerity would work her personal magic and Susan would feel better before she left. On top of being smart and funny and caring, Temerity had the incontestable benefit of reminding people to keep a sense of perspective. It was like the universe put a dialogue bubble over her head that read,
Sure, you have soup on your Armani, but I'm blind. Wanna trade?
Ellen turned to see if Cindy and the others had noticed the collision, and saw them at the reception desk. Only Janelle was looking back at Temerity, a suspicious frown on her face, as the two women sort of helped each other out the door.

Oh boy,
Ellen thought. But at that moment, the door to the procedure rooms opened and a child's loud wail commandeered the room. Everyone turned toward the commotion and saw a young dad coming out, making shushing noises to his toddler. Seeing so many eyes on him, the boy buried his head in his father's shoulder. Then he snuck a peek at the Band-Aid on his arm, where, no doubt, he'd received a shot, and fresh howls of hurt and betrayal ensued. “You promised it wouldn't hurt!” he wailed. Ellen fell in behind the treacherous father and his loud, unwitting victim as they left the waiting room.

She went to the restroom door and listened for a moment. The voices inside were muffled, but she could make out enough to know that Temerity had gotten Susan to give her a summary of her recent trials and she could hear Temerity soothing and reassuring her. “They say it's always darkest before the dawn. Noon is dark for me, of course, but I get the point. It sounds like you're due for at least six months of daylight. Maybe you should move to Alaska.”

Pushing the door open a crack, Ellen could see the women at the sink with their backs to her. Temerity was wetting a paper towel and she held it out to Susan, who had exhausted quite a pile
in an effort to expunge the soup. Her blouse and the front of her pants were damp, but the cream and broccoli bits were no longer apparent.

“Maybe I should,” Susan said. “I just don't know how much more of this I can take.” She sobbed once, but got it under control. “You've been very kind. I'm sorry to dump on you like this.”

“Hey now, who dumped on who?” Temerity asked. “I'm the one who's walking out of here soup-free.”

Susan laughed, sadly at first, but it grew into genuine amusement. “Oh, thank you,” she said. “I really needed to laugh at myself. What a mess I am.”

“I'd laugh at you too, probably, if I could see you. I bet you look funny.”

“I do,” Susan said. In the mirror, Ellen watched Susan study Temerity. “What do you do for a living?”

“Oh, I'm a violinist, with the symphony.”

“Really?” Susan paused in her wiping, genuinely impressed. “I remember you!” she exclaimed. “I have season tickets.” Her face fell. “Or I
did
. I guess we'll have to find out who gets them now.” She frowned severely.

“How about this?” Temerity put her hands on her hips. “If you give me a card, I'll leave you some tickets, good ones, at will-call for this weekend, and then you won't have to ask . . . What did you say his name was? Dickhead?”