Chapter 5
"Really, Dear.I'm so sorry I frightened the little girl last night. Timmy and I were just enjoying a moonlit stroll."
Charity smiled sweetly at the old woman. "Tabitha.Tessa's fine. Aren't you?"
Tessa didn't answer.
Tabitha averted her eyes from her cool blue gaze. The child unnerved her. "I should be going on my way now."
"Don't leave. Stay for breakfast. We would love to have you."
Miguel set a glass of orange juice in front of Tessa. "Stay."
"Timmy's hungry."
"I don't care if you're hungry, Lad," Tabitha hissed.
Charity's blond head peeked around the refrigerator door. "I'm sorry. Did you say something, Tabitha?"
"That sounds lovely! I think I will," she beamed. Taking a seat in the chair Miguel offered.
"Mmm. Mmm. Timmy loves blueberry pancakes."
Miguel's brows shot upward, and his forehead crinkled as Tabitha stuffed a napkin in the collar of the doll's shirt.
Odd didn't even begin to describe the old woman.
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She gripped the steering wheel tightly. Her fingers bloodless and white as she maneuvered the car up the winding coastal road. She didn't dare look down. She had a deep-seeded fear of heights.
An image of her own broken, battered body surging against the craggy shoreline with the breaking waves assailed her.
"Not now, Gwen. Don't do this now. You're almost there," she told herself. She took a shaky breath.
The arching wrought-iron gates loomed ahead.
"Good morning, Ms. Hotchkiss."
"Hi, David," she said pleasantly. Showing him her i.d.
The buzzer sounded, and the great gate heaved open. Slowly.
"Have a nice visit."
"Nice visit," Gwen muttered sarcastically as she slammed her car door shut. "A nice visit at this place. What a concept."
She wobbled on her expensive Italian heels. "Damn," she swore. Kicking the loose stone in irritation.
The sign on the front door read The Anderson Cooper Facility.
Her heels clicked against the tile floor as she followed the nurse.
Streaks of gray in her strawberry hair betrayed her age. Her blue eyes stared forward blankly.
Gwen's heart felt heavy.
"Hello, Mother."
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Ivy pulled the jade satin sash tighter around her waist and crept down the stairs.
Silence. It was too quiet.
A note tacked on the refrigerator caught her eye. A tiny smile played at the corner of her lips as she read Sam's familiar scrawl. He wanted her to meet him at Lighthouse Park at noon.
She stood on tiptoe. Reaching into the cabinet. Manicured fingers searching.
Coffee dripped steadily in the pot.
"Finally," she breathed. Gripping the porcelain handle. "Sugar.sugar.where did Jessica move it this time?"
She straightened up when she heard someone rapping on the door.
Pilar's worried face in the window startled her. "You're early, Pilar."
"I can't stay, Ivy. Luis called. He wants me to keep an eye on Sheridan and Danielle today."
Ivy's blue green eyes softened. "Another episode? Poor Sheridan. I feel so badly for her."
Pilar wrung her hands unconsciously. "Things have been difficult for her. I only hope Julian's release."
"Julian wouldn't dare," Ivy said haughtily. "Anyway.we're all here for her. Hurry along, Pilar. Sheridan needs you more."
The door clicked shut.
Ivy ran a hand across its smooth surface.
Yes. Sheridan DID need Pilar more.
She gasped when she heard a crash in the kitchen.
The orange tabby's tail whisked back and forth, and green orbs watched her boredly.
"Ginger," Ivy scolded. Wincing as she cut her finger on one of the mug's jagged edges. "See what you made me do? Oh no. Ginger," she whispered as a realization left her paralyzed.
Her blood stained Grace's disjointed image.
The words "We love you, Mom" jumped out at her and made her cold. She sank to the floor beneath her.
Would it never cease?
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He rested his chin on her bare shoulder. Holding her as close as humanly possible.
Sunlight streamed in through the curtains, and a bird chirped happily outside the window.
"Oh, Baby," he uttered. Tears in his golden brown eyes. "I wish I could make you happy-whole-again." He kissed the freckles on her tanned shoulder. Then her cheek. Only to find it wet with new tears.
He felt her small hands link with his own, and his throat grew tight. He could barely breathe. "Don't. Please don't. I can't bear it when you cry. Come on, Angel. Sheridan.tell me what I can do."
"Just hold me," she whispered. "Until the ache fades."
He buried his nose in her soft golden curls and closed his eyes. And held on tight.
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"Good morning Harmony on this beautiful day! The temp is a pleasant 75. But look out folks! Today's going to be another scorcher with highs in the upper 80's. Get out! Have some fun! This is Chad Harris, and you're listening to Harmony's best music station."
Eve smiled. More like Harmony's ONLY music station. But Chad was good at his job. Excellent, in fact. Sheridan knew exactly what she was doing when she handed the reins over to him. She twisted the knob on the small radio. Lowering the volume.
"Dr. Johnson? Mr. Bennett would like to have a word with you."
"Thank you, Alice."
Sam met her outside Room 13. "Eve."
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Sam. How is she?" she asked. Peeking through the small window. Grace looked somewhat bewildered. But happy. Surrounded by her children.
Sam rubbed his palms against his denim pants. "Great. Perfect. Except for one thing. It's like she's never been gone these last nine years, Eve. She doesn't remember anything."
Eve frowned.
"What? Do you think it's permanent?"
"I don't know. She'll need more tests, of course. But Sam.the clinic's ill- equipped for those sorts of tests. Or Grace remaining here."
"What are you saying, Eve?"
"I'm saying you should take Grace home."
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His head throbbed. And the day was only beginning. "Come in," he called. When he heard a gentle, hesitant tap on the door. "Whitney," he sighed. Pushing his chair back from his desk and standing up. "I wasn't expecting you."
Whitney cleared her throat nervously.
"What do you wish to see me about? The Masters' case? Is Bloodsworth harrassing you again?"
"No," she said quickly. "This is not about work."
He locked the door and turned around to face her once more. "Then what is it about?" he asked curiously. Dropping the case file in his hands on top of the mountain of paperwork and perching on the edge of his desk.
"I think you know," she whispered. Her head lowered. Her nails picked at imaginary lint on her conservative gray skirt. "Theresa. It's about Theresa. And your marriage to her."
"Really, Dear.I'm so sorry I frightened the little girl last night. Timmy and I were just enjoying a moonlit stroll."
Charity smiled sweetly at the old woman. "Tabitha.Tessa's fine. Aren't you?"
Tessa didn't answer.
Tabitha averted her eyes from her cool blue gaze. The child unnerved her. "I should be going on my way now."
"Don't leave. Stay for breakfast. We would love to have you."
Miguel set a glass of orange juice in front of Tessa. "Stay."
"Timmy's hungry."
"I don't care if you're hungry, Lad," Tabitha hissed.
Charity's blond head peeked around the refrigerator door. "I'm sorry. Did you say something, Tabitha?"
"That sounds lovely! I think I will," she beamed. Taking a seat in the chair Miguel offered.
"Mmm. Mmm. Timmy loves blueberry pancakes."
Miguel's brows shot upward, and his forehead crinkled as Tabitha stuffed a napkin in the collar of the doll's shirt.
Odd didn't even begin to describe the old woman.
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
She gripped the steering wheel tightly. Her fingers bloodless and white as she maneuvered the car up the winding coastal road. She didn't dare look down. She had a deep-seeded fear of heights.
An image of her own broken, battered body surging against the craggy shoreline with the breaking waves assailed her.
"Not now, Gwen. Don't do this now. You're almost there," she told herself. She took a shaky breath.
The arching wrought-iron gates loomed ahead.
"Good morning, Ms. Hotchkiss."
"Hi, David," she said pleasantly. Showing him her i.d.
The buzzer sounded, and the great gate heaved open. Slowly.
"Have a nice visit."
"Nice visit," Gwen muttered sarcastically as she slammed her car door shut. "A nice visit at this place. What a concept."
She wobbled on her expensive Italian heels. "Damn," she swore. Kicking the loose stone in irritation.
The sign on the front door read The Anderson Cooper Facility.
Her heels clicked against the tile floor as she followed the nurse.
Streaks of gray in her strawberry hair betrayed her age. Her blue eyes stared forward blankly.
Gwen's heart felt heavy.
"Hello, Mother."
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
Ivy pulled the jade satin sash tighter around her waist and crept down the stairs.
Silence. It was too quiet.
A note tacked on the refrigerator caught her eye. A tiny smile played at the corner of her lips as she read Sam's familiar scrawl. He wanted her to meet him at Lighthouse Park at noon.
She stood on tiptoe. Reaching into the cabinet. Manicured fingers searching.
Coffee dripped steadily in the pot.
"Finally," she breathed. Gripping the porcelain handle. "Sugar.sugar.where did Jessica move it this time?"
She straightened up when she heard someone rapping on the door.
Pilar's worried face in the window startled her. "You're early, Pilar."
"I can't stay, Ivy. Luis called. He wants me to keep an eye on Sheridan and Danielle today."
Ivy's blue green eyes softened. "Another episode? Poor Sheridan. I feel so badly for her."
Pilar wrung her hands unconsciously. "Things have been difficult for her. I only hope Julian's release."
"Julian wouldn't dare," Ivy said haughtily. "Anyway.we're all here for her. Hurry along, Pilar. Sheridan needs you more."
The door clicked shut.
Ivy ran a hand across its smooth surface.
Yes. Sheridan DID need Pilar more.
She gasped when she heard a crash in the kitchen.
The orange tabby's tail whisked back and forth, and green orbs watched her boredly.
"Ginger," Ivy scolded. Wincing as she cut her finger on one of the mug's jagged edges. "See what you made me do? Oh no. Ginger," she whispered as a realization left her paralyzed.
Her blood stained Grace's disjointed image.
The words "We love you, Mom" jumped out at her and made her cold. She sank to the floor beneath her.
Would it never cease?
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
He rested his chin on her bare shoulder. Holding her as close as humanly possible.
Sunlight streamed in through the curtains, and a bird chirped happily outside the window.
"Oh, Baby," he uttered. Tears in his golden brown eyes. "I wish I could make you happy-whole-again." He kissed the freckles on her tanned shoulder. Then her cheek. Only to find it wet with new tears.
He felt her small hands link with his own, and his throat grew tight. He could barely breathe. "Don't. Please don't. I can't bear it when you cry. Come on, Angel. Sheridan.tell me what I can do."
"Just hold me," she whispered. "Until the ache fades."
He buried his nose in her soft golden curls and closed his eyes. And held on tight.
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
"Good morning Harmony on this beautiful day! The temp is a pleasant 75. But look out folks! Today's going to be another scorcher with highs in the upper 80's. Get out! Have some fun! This is Chad Harris, and you're listening to Harmony's best music station."
Eve smiled. More like Harmony's ONLY music station. But Chad was good at his job. Excellent, in fact. Sheridan knew exactly what she was doing when she handed the reins over to him. She twisted the knob on the small radio. Lowering the volume.
"Dr. Johnson? Mr. Bennett would like to have a word with you."
"Thank you, Alice."
Sam met her outside Room 13. "Eve."
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Sam. How is she?" she asked. Peeking through the small window. Grace looked somewhat bewildered. But happy. Surrounded by her children.
Sam rubbed his palms against his denim pants. "Great. Perfect. Except for one thing. It's like she's never been gone these last nine years, Eve. She doesn't remember anything."
Eve frowned.
"What? Do you think it's permanent?"
"I don't know. She'll need more tests, of course. But Sam.the clinic's ill- equipped for those sorts of tests. Or Grace remaining here."
"What are you saying, Eve?"
"I'm saying you should take Grace home."
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
His head throbbed. And the day was only beginning. "Come in," he called. When he heard a gentle, hesitant tap on the door. "Whitney," he sighed. Pushing his chair back from his desk and standing up. "I wasn't expecting you."
Whitney cleared her throat nervously.
"What do you wish to see me about? The Masters' case? Is Bloodsworth harrassing you again?"
"No," she said quickly. "This is not about work."
He locked the door and turned around to face her once more. "Then what is it about?" he asked curiously. Dropping the case file in his hands on top of the mountain of paperwork and perching on the edge of his desk.
"I think you know," she whispered. Her head lowered. Her nails picked at imaginary lint on her conservative gray skirt. "Theresa. It's about Theresa. And your marriage to her."