One of the elderly patients had wandered out that door; Yvonne had him by the sleeve, and Elizabeth could hear her clearly say, “Now, Mr. Mohr, come back in. You wouldn’t like living in town with Mrs. Perry. You two don’t even get along!”
“We don’t?” Mr. Mohr frowned and walked in a circle to head back into the facility.
Catching sight of Elizabeth and Garik, Yvonne added, “And if you leave now, you won’t get to meet Charles Banner’s children.”
“I would like to meet them.” Mr. Mohr waved at them.
Garik waved back, and headed over to shake his hand. “Good to meet you, Mr. Mohr. Beautiful day, isn’t it?” He took over from Yvonne, chatting cheerily as he led the patient inside.
Yvonne fell back to walk with Elizabeth. “Is that Garik? My God, I haven’t seen him in a month of Sundays. You have a very handsome husband.”
“Ex-husband.” Elizabeth corrected her automatically. But she was right. Garik was handsome, although his jeans were baggy in the rear, and his arms were without a single ounce of fat to soften the impact of his heavy muscles.
“A tragedy, that divorce. You two look good together.”
Elizabeth glanced down at herself.
Unlike Garik, she wasn’t wearing her own clothes. She had on a flowered summer dress that was a little too tight across her breasts, and a pair of metallic gold sandals with big colored rhinestones. Not her style at all, although she supposed she should be glad to have them. “Thank you. But looking good together is hardly a criterion for a successful marriage. But we did look very good in our wedding picture.” And this morning, on the way to the care facility, every time Elizabeth shifted her bare legs, Garik had noticed.
Elizabeth would not say that she frequently moved on purpose. But she felt triumph in knowing she could still keep him enthralled with an incremental adjustment of her hem.
Yvonne gestured toward the moving van. “Mrs. Perry’s relatives are taking her home until the facility has been inspected and the damage fixed. We found more damage than was immediately visible, and recommended families come for their relatives. So far four have left. Unfortunately, a lot of them don’t have families, or nobody who can or will take them.” She sighed wearily.
Elizabeth thought Yvonne looked exhausted. “Have you been home at all?”
“Yes, once, to change and pack a bag. It’s thirty minutes north of here … a lot of trees are down on the acreage, but they missed the house, thank God. Last night, my husband managed to get through to me on the phone, and he told me he’d take care of everything when he gets home. But he’s a trucker, and it’s going to be a while before he can get his semi over the roads.”
Elizabeth noted that Yvonne seemed sincerely fond of her husband, even though he hadn’t been here to help her through the crisis. “You’re working too much. You need more sleep.”
“We got two more orderlies back to work today, so I’m going home tonight.” Yvonne clasped her hands at her chest. “I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed. How’s your hand?”
Elizabeth showed her the bandage. “Okay. It hurts and the stitches pull, but it’s okay.”
“When Dr. Frownfelter gets here, I’ll send him in to look at it.”
“Okay.” It wasn’t logical, but as they stepped across the threshold of the care facility, Elizabeth’s nerves tightened and her breath got short.
“I hear you’ve had a bit of a shock, too,” Yvonne said.
“What shock?” Elizabeth found herself looking around for a ghost.
“You found your mother’s body yesterday.”
“Yes. That. That’s why we’re here.” Elizabeth inhaled deeply. That didn’t help; the hospital smell reminded her of that moment when she’d come awake to see Charles Banner standing over her bed. “We want to talk to my father about Misty, to see if the news that she’d been found would have an effect on him.”
Yvonne started to say something, then shook her head as if she changed her mind, and said, “He’s been quiet since you left. He mentions you, calls you Misty, then he corrects himself.”
Garik shook Mr. Mohr’s hand, introduced him to an orderly, gave him a wave, and walked back to join Elizabeth.
Sweat had sprung up at the back of her neck and now trickled down between her shoulder blades. Since the earthquake, she had become a bundle of neuroses; she was afraid to walk into the Honor Mountain Memory Care Facility.
As if Garik knew it, he took her hand and held it between both of his. Smiling, he said, “Hello, Yvonne, you’re prettier than ever.”
Elizabeth couldn’t believe it when Yvonne blushed and preened. “You’re as delusional as some of my patients. Have you come to meet your father-in-law?”
“We’re not married,” Elizabeth said. What was it with these people? Did they not understand the meaning of the word
divorce
?
Garik winked, and smiled. “We’d like to visit with Charles, if it’s okay.”
Elizabeth wanted to slap him. He was feeding this myth that they had an ongoing relationship. Didn’t he want to move on?
She did. Whether or not he was nice to sleep with, whether or not he sympathized about her nightmares … she really, really did want to move on. It was the only sensible thing to do.
“Okay.” Yvonne spoke to Garik. “Down this hall, room three-two-three, he’s usually working this time of day.”
“On what?” Garik asked.
Yvonne walked with them. “Right now, he’s working on the earthquake and what he expects the scientific community to find. For all that he’s an Alzheimer’s patient, he still has quite a following online among the geologists.” She sounded proud, as if his admirers gave her prestige.
“You have Internet?” Elizabeth was astonished—and excited. She had a video to upload.
“It’s blinked on a couple of times. But no. Not yet. If we had Internet, the patients’ families wouldn’t be so worried. My husband wouldn’t be so worried.” Yvonne looked to Garik as if he could fix the situation.
A typical guy, he responded as if he could actually cure the problem. “The power will come first. The Internet will be back soon. Then they’ve got to fix the roads.” He rolled his eyes.
“Rumors say the DOT is working Highway one-oh-one as hard and as fast as they can,” Yvonne said. “I hope it’s true.”
“I’m sure the state officials will not want to leave us without power and water for long,” Elizabeth said.
Yvonne snorted. “State officials only care about Seattle. They’ll get to us folks in the country after they get the important city folks fixed up.”
“Cynical.” But Garik sounded as if he agreed.
Room 323 had the door closed.
Yvonne put her hand out to stop them. “Listen, Elizabeth, I tried to call you yesterday and couldn’t get through. This is not good news. Your father had a seizure.”
Elizabeth swung to face her. “What?”
“Late in the afternoon, in the rec room, he stiffened, fell out of his chair, started shuddering, was unconscious, and when he revived, he was unable to speak or move for about thirty minutes.” Yvonne gave her report in a cool tone that belied the anxiety in her eyes. “The nursing staff took care of him, and when Dr. Frownfelter came in last night to make rounds, he examined him. Your father seemed rather distracted and as if he was looking for something. But he’s fine.”
Elizabeth swayed.
Garik caught her arm. “Is this the first time this has happened?”
“That we know of.” Yvonne spoke to him, but kept an eye on Elizabeth.
“Is he in danger?” Elizabeth asked.
Yvonne opened her mouth, sighed, and nodded. “For a man his age, he’s not in the best of health. Prison, the stress of losing his family, the beatings he’s taken … Dr. Frownfelter doesn’t think there’s any immediate danger. We put a monitor on him, so if he seizes again, we’ll know immediately. But there’s a good chance this is his first seizure. There’s a good chance he’ll never have another. Try not to worry. He’s doing fine today. It seems sometimes the mind chooses what it can bear. Your father usually doesn’t remember his years in prison.”
“Twenty-three years are gone?” Elizabeth asked.
“For the most part. When he does remember, he’s agitated, unhappy. So we like it better when he remembers you and your mother. It’s a gentler, happier memory for him, and he likes to tell us about those times.”
“He’s told you about meeting my mother?”
“Yes, that she was his student and made all the moves on him.” Yvonne chuckled. “Which doesn’t surprise me; it fits his personality, I think.” She looked down at her pager, turned, and hurried away. She called over her shoulder, “I’ve got to go. We’re still short-handed. Don’t worry!”
“Don’t worry?” Elizabeth repeated to Garik. “I almost didn’t come back to see him.”
He put his arm around her. “We’re here now. And we’ll keep coming back for as long as he needs us.”
For no reason, without ever meeting her father, Garik was taking responsibility. So Charles wasn’t merely her charge, but also Garik’s, and sharing the burden made her relax a little, feel as if life could be within her control.
Garik opened the door.
She walked into room 323.
Charles sat at his desk, typing on his aging laptop.
“Hello, Father.”
Charles looked hard at her, adjusted his glasses, and said, “Hello, dear, how good to see you.”
Elizabeth braced herself. “I’m Elizabeth, your daughter.”
“I know.” He sounded slightly irritated, as if she was stating the obvious.
Elizabeth leaned in to kiss his cheek.
“Before she left,” he said, “Misty explained all to me.”
Elizabeth pulled back. He’d had a seizure. She knew he was delusional. But those delusions made her feel sort of itchy, as if someone—Misty—was stroking ghostly fingers across her skin. “Mother left?”
“Yes, but don’t worry, she said she would be back,” Charles assured her.
Elizabeth did not feel measurably reassured.
From the doorway, Garik watched her. “Won’t you introduce me, Elizabeth?”
Charles looked at him, broke into a smile, pushed his chair back, and stood. “I recognize you. Elizabeth’s husband, Garik Jacobsen. Margaret Smith forwarded me a photo when you two got married.”
Which explained a lot.
“Good to meet you!” Charles offered his hand.
Garik took it. “You’re looking well, sir.”
Charles adjusted his glasses. “I’m feeling well, too. I wish Misty was here to meet you, though.”
“I wish that, too.” Garik scrutinized Charles, then said softly, “Elizabeth and I found Misty’s body yesterday. Did you know?”
“No, but I’m not surprised.” Charles turned to his daughter. “I did ask if you’d found the bones, you know.”
“I know.” Her lips felt numb, and she was sweating again. “That’s why I wanted you to tell me more about how you and Misty met and got married.”
Charles chuckled softly and collapsed into his desk chair. “Marrying Misty was the best thing I ever did.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Charles waited in the lobby of the hotel, nervously tugging at his suit and wishing Misty would hurry up.
If she had a fault, it was that she was always late. Although in her defense, she was always late because people stopped her and talked to her.
Men told her she was pretty, and she smiled and thanked them. Women asked her about the color of her lipstick or how she made her eyes appear so big, and she smiled at them, too, and talked to them as if her makeup tips would help create full lips or large eyes. She charmed everybody, and that took time, so she was always late.
He hated the late part, but he always waited without reproach. He couldn’t urge her to ignore the people who spoke to her. If she did that, she wouldn’t be the Misty he adored.
Right now, though, they needed to get to the chapel on time or they’d have to wait another day to get married. This hotel was full, and he didn’t have enough money to stay another day in Las Vegas. Not with a baby on the way.
A baby on the way.
He felt almost faint with terror and pride. He was going to be a father.
He stood facing the outer doors, worrying that he wouldn’t be able to get a cab in time, when he heard that particular hush fall across the lobby, the hush that meant Misty had finally made her appearance. He turned … and there she was, the most beautiful woman in the world.
She wore white; she had somehow managed to come up with a dress that looked like a fifties-era prom gown, with a wide, crisp gathered skirt, a fitted bodice, and cap sleeves. Her satin heels were low, and her little hat had an attached veil. She held a bouquet of white roses, and she smiled at him as if he was the only man on earth.
He swallowed.
She walked toward him across the lobby, floating, incandescent with joy. At marrying him? It seemed impossible. But he had to believe the truth in her blue eyes.
She loved him.
“Darling.” Her low, warm voice sent chills up his spine. She slipped her hand into his arm. “Are you ready? Because I can’t wait any longer to marry you.”
He nodded, mesmerized, like everybody else, by her glow. “I’ll get a cab.”
Of course, he didn’t have to do anything.
Misty smiled at the doorman, and prettily explained that because she had taken so long getting into her gown, they were late for their own wedding, and could they cut the taxi line?
The next cab was theirs.
The doorman helped her in, and when she waved, the people in the line waved back and called out congratulations. She enchanted them as much as she enchanted Charles.
Charles heard one guy say, “He must have money.”
And he wished everyone would stop looking at him as if they knew what he’d done to a girl who was almost young enough to be his daughter.
He leaned forward and told the cabbie they wanted to go to the White Shoulders Wedding Chapel, and quickly.
The cabbie nodded, hit the gas as hard as he could, and Charles slammed back against the seat. “Crazy driver,” he muttered.