Читать книгу I Need More - Kimberley White - Страница 11

“You look like hell,” Ginnifer said. She was the buxom nurse-practitioner working with Erika at the internal medicine clinic. She’d been a find, and Erika knew she couldn’t have handled the expanding volume of patients without her. Besides being an excellent employee, Ginnifer was a great friend. She lived an unconventional lifestyle, sharing a home with two lovers. She was smart and dynamic, and all the patients and staff loved her sense of humor. She had been the first shoulder Erika cried on when Brock walked out of their marriage.

“You look like hell,” Ginnifer repeated. “And I’ve had to correct three of your orders this morning.” She flopped down in Erika’s office. “What’s going on with you?”

“I didn’t sleep much. Brock and I are fighting.”

Ginnifer closed the door to Erika’s office and then returned to her seat. “About what?”

“I filed for divorce.”

“No kidding?”

“He didn’t take it well.”

“He left you.”

“I know. He won’t give me a divorce. And he wants to move back in.”

“He wants to get back together?” Ginnifer was delighted, always having liked Brock.

“Not as far as I can tell. He just wants to live back at the house.”

“That sounds crazy.”

“The whole situation seems crazy to me, and I don’t want to try to figure it out anymore.”

Nothing was crazier than the day Erika came home and found Brock packing his bags. The action was so incongruent, it took her an extraordinary amount of time to process what was happening.

“Do you have a convention this month?”

“No,” he answered, pointedly not looking at her.

“Has something happened to one of your brothers?”

“No.”

“Why are you packing? Did I forget something on your schedule?”

He stopped fiddling with the suitcases, straightened his back, turned to her, and shattered her world. “I’m leaving you, Erika.”

She laughed. “Stop playing around. Where are you going?” She moved down the private corridor connecting the master bedroom to the master bath. She stepped inside her walk-in closet, flipped on the light, and began removing her suit. Even today she remembered every silly action, the sound of the light switch, the indentations left in the carpet from Brock’s shoes.

“Erika.”

If she could have stayed in the closet and never, ever have turned around, she would have. She froze, recognizing the serious, unwavering tone of his voice. If she didn’t look at him, it couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t leave.

“I’m sorry,” he’d said, as if that explained it all.

“Why are you leaving?”

She heard his soft steps approach. “I have to.”

“Is there someone else?” Her voice was even. If there was another woman, it made sense. Somewhere deep inside she hoped there was another woman. She couldn’t stand thinking he’d leave her because she hadn’t loved him enough. He was her world and everything in her life was about loving him.

“No,” he answered softly, his voice full of compassion.

“You don’t love me anymore?” Her voice cracked then because she couldn’t stand it if he’d fallen out of love with her. She needed him to love her as much as she loved him.

Brock laid his hand softly on her shoulder. “I love you. I’ll always love you.” He tried to turn her to face him, but she wouldn’t move. “I can’t be married to you anymore.”

“Did something happen? Did I do something wrong?”

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

She wanted to smack him then. She deserved better than a cliché. “Then let’s work on you. Let’s make you better.”

“I have to go now.” He leaned in close and kissed her cheek from behind. His hand lingered on her shoulder for a moment before he turned away.

Erika remained in the closet for hours. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. She was terrified of going back into their bedroom and finding Brock gone.

“Erika? Are you all right, Sugar?” Brock’s mom was waving a hand in front of her tear-stained face. “I’ve been calling you for ten minutes. I’ve been standing here for five. Are you all right?”

“Brock?” Erika screamed, running from the closet. She dashed next door to his walk-in closet, frantically flipping on the light and counting his suits. If he didn’t take his suits, he would be back.

“Erika?”

“Seven are missing.”

“Seven what are missing?”

She dropped to her knees in a heap and cried for what seemed like another hour. Brock’s mother held her, rocking her and trying to calm her enough to find out what was wrong.

“Mom, Brock left me.”

His mother laughed.

“He’s gone.”

“Now, that’s absurd.” Disbelieving, she climbed to her feet and limped out of the closet. A little while later she returned to where she’d left Erika. “He’s not answering his phone. We’ll wait until he gets home. He’ll clear this all up.”

“He packed his bags.”

“You must have misunderstood. You know he’s always going to some conference or another. You got your signals crossed is all.” She gathered Erika in her arms. “We’ll just wait a little while and call him back so he can explain.”

They waited hours, but Brock never answered his phone.

“We’ll talk to him about this over breakfast,” Mom said, sounding less sure as the hours rolled by.

They waited seven months of breakfasts, but Brock never cleared it up.

Brock’s announcement last night was as sudden as his leaving seven months ago. He wanted to move back in, but he never said he wanted to put their marriage back together. He was clear divorce wasn’t an option, but what was he offering? She reran the dinner scene over and over in her head, making it through the day on autopilot. It was no wonder she was distracted and made a mistake that could have caused her to be harmed.

It was a relief when the nurse announced her last patient of the day. Erika wanted to go home and take a hot bath before climbing into bed and hiding underneath the covers. She didn’t know if she would find Brock at the house, which was another source of anxiety. She didn’t think she could make it through another dinner with him. Her emotions were all over the place, hating him one moment, but still loving him all the others.

Danny had become her patient on his nineteenth birthday on referral from his pediatrician. A year later she suspected a new onset of schizophrenia and referred him for psychological testing. The last year had been hard for Danny, trying to weather the growing pains of being a teenager while finding a healthy balance of medications to control his behavior.

“He’s out of control again,” Danny’s mother said when Erika entered the exam room.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here!” Danny jumped down from the exam table and began pacing the room, mumbling under his breath. He was disheveled, his clothing soiled and wrinkled. He smelled as if he hadn’t washed in weeks. His overly long blond hair was stringy and matted. When Danny went into crisis mode, his appearance was always the first thing to go.

“Dr. Johnson is trying to help you, Danny.” His mother looked haggard and scared. His father left soon after Danny was diagnosed, and she’d been carrying the entire parenting burden. “He’s been seeing things again,” she said to Erika.

Danny continued to pace, mumbling rapidly.

“Are you taking your medications?” Erika asked him.

He whirled on her. “Those medicines make me feel sleepy all the time. And I can’t hear the warnings.”

“What warnings?”

“God tells me when the evil angels are coming,” he answered, his pacing becoming more rapid in the tiny exam room.

“We should talk about other things we can do to help you feel better,” Erika offered.

“You want to put me away again. I’m not going back to that hellhole.” He began yanking drawers open, disregarding his mother’s frantic pleas to calm down. Finding what he wanted, he grabbed a scalpel and turned on Erika and his mother. “I’ll kill you if you try to put me back in that place! There are too many evil angels there! The devil is waiting for me!”

The scene quickly became chaotic. Ginnifer overheard the disturbance from the exam room next door, astutely realizing she should call for help before she tried to intervene. Erika pulled Danny’s mother into the corner, huddling together while a scalpel-wielding Danny blocked the door.

She tried to console the mother because her wailing only seemed to upset Danny more. Her attention was divided between the two as she scolded herself for being so distracted she’d been careless. She’d witnessed Danny’s violent tendencies before—in the form of his mother’s broken arm. She’d seen the signs in Danny before, knew how violent he could get, yet she’d allowed herself to be placed in a vulnerable position. There were methods of verbal deescalation, of talking him down that had worked in the past, but Erika’s mind was so scattered, she couldn’t recall any of them now.

Bradley was the first security officer through the exam room door. He was a hawking man with an intimidating physique and a heart of gold. A retired police officer, he’d had to take early retirement because of a nasty excessive force lawsuit. He was older now, but still in good shape. A handsome man with a thick beard he used to hide his age lines, he was sweet on Ginnifer.

Bradley crashed into the room, striking Danny with the door and putting him off balance enough to wrestle the scalpel away. Once Bradley had the weapon, three more officers crashed in, subduing Danny. Danny fought with the strength of ten men while shouting curses at his mother for condemning him to the wrath of the evil angels. They handcuffed him because they had no other way to control him. He was wiry and strong, completely possessed by an irrational need to escape in order to save his life. As the three officers pinned him to the floor, Bradley called for another officer to bring a stretcher so Danny could be transported to the emergency room in the main building of the hospital.

“Everyone okay?” Bradley asked, his eyes trained on Ginnifer.

“We’re good. Thanks for getting here so fast.” Ginnifer joined Erika in picking Danny’s mother up from the floor.

“I’m so sorry, Dr. Johnson. He’s such a handful. I try to make sure he takes his medicine, but—”

“It’s okay,” Erika assured her. “You have a lot to deal with.”

“They’ll keep him?” she asked, referring to the inpatient psych unit.

“You’ll have to fill out the papers.”

Danny’s voice rose over every noise in the room, shouting colorful curse words at his mother, threatening her if she had him committed again. Seeing how distraught it all made her, Erika ushered his mother out of the tiny exam room, leaving Ginnifer to work everything out with security.

“I saw security running for your office. Are you all right?” Mark rushed up to her.

“We’re all okay,” Erika answered, hoping his concern didn’t appear too focused on her. No one knew they were dating, and she wanted to keep it that way for now. Things were complicated enough with Brock to add her relationship with Mark to the mix.

“My receptionist thought—” He exhaled deeply. “I’m glad no one is hurt.”

Erika handed Danny’s mother over to the clinic nurse, who hauled her away to meet with the psychiatric staff.

“I have a situation here,” Erika told Mark.

“Yeah, right. I’ll let you get things under control.” He peered over her shoulder in the direction of Danny’s loud protests.

Ginnifer appeared, ushering the last patients of the day back into their exam rooms. The ruckus had them peeking out of their rooms. The security officers’ radios were squawking, heightening the scene.

“It’s crazy,” Erika told Mark. “I’ll explain later.”

He dropped his voice. “You’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” Still a little shaky, she offered a weak smile. “Really. Don’t worry.”

He watched her, reluctant to go until the scene had been cleaned up.

Two security officers burst through the door of the clinic, pulling a stretcher along with them. They made a racket, hitting furniture as they navigated through her waiting room. The room was filled with tables and chairs and other comforts. It wasn’t designed for driving stretchers with uncooperative wheels through it. It wasn’t until Erika and Mark started moving the chairs out of the way that she noticed Brock standing near the door.

“I’m glad you all are all right,” Mark said, immediately going into concerned colleague mode. “I’d better get back to my patients.” He left, acknowledging Brock with a small nod.

Brock stepped up to her. In the middle of all the bedlam, he made the chaos go quiet. His controlled presence brought calm, helping her to manage her emotions. Immaculately dressed as usual in dark blue slacks, off-white shirt, blue tie, and crisp lab coat, he loomed over her, wearing an expression of curiosity and concern. Watching the rough treatment necessary to get Danny controlled made her heart break.

“Security told me about the call,” he said evenly. “Did he hurt you?”

“No.”

“Danny again?”

“He stopped his meds. His mother brought him in.”

“Erika,” he breathed. He had told her to transfer Danny to another physician. One who could physically handle him when he became violent.

“I should get back. Security will need help getting him to emergency.”

“And you’re going to lift him?” Brock raised a brow.

“I want to medicate him so he’ll calm down.”

“You’re shaking.” He gripped her shoulders, letting his hands cascade slowly down her arms. The gesture relaxed her, despite the noises projecting from the back of the clinic.

“He’s scared.”

Brock watched her, his eyes going soft behind the gold rims of his glasses. His shoulders shifted as he exhaled. He knew how much she cared for her patients, and Danny’s erratic behavior didn’t change her feelings. “C’mon, I’ll help hold him while you give him the injection.”