Cathryn went back to her seat by Michelle’s bed. “Why hasn’t Charles called?” she asked herself forlornly. Several times she had decided to call him at the institute, but each time, after picking up the phone, she changed her mind.
Gina had not been much help at all. Rather than being supportive and understanding, she’d taken the crisis as an opportunity to lecture Cathryn repeatedly on the evil of marrying someone thirteen years her senior with three children. She told Cathryn that she should have expected this kind of problem because even though Cathryn had graciously adopted the children, Charles obviously thought of them as his alone.
Michelle’s eyes suddenly opened and her face twisted in pain.
“What’s wrong?” asked Cathryn, anxiously leaning forward on her seat.
Michelle didn’t answer. Her head flopped to the other side and her slender body writhed in pain.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Cathryn was out the door, calling for a nurse. The woman took one look at Michelle’s squirming body and put in a call to Dr. Keitzman.
Cathryn stood by the bed, wringing her hands, wishing there was something she could do. Standing there over the suffering child was a torture. Without any clear idea why she was doing it, Cathryn rushed into the bathroom and wet the end of a towel. Returning to Michelle’s bedside, she began to blot the child’s forehead with the cool cloth. Whether it did anything for Michelle, Cathryn had no idea, but at least it gave her the satisfaction of doing something.
Dr. Keitzman must have been in the area because he arrived within minutes. Skillfully he examined the child. From the regular beep on the cardiac monitor, he knew that her heart rate had not changed. Her breathing was nonencumbered; her chest was clear. Putting the bell of the stethoscope on Michelle’s abdomen, Dr. Keitzman listened. He heard a fanfare of squeaks, squawks, and tinkles. Removing the stethoscope, he put his hand on the child’s abdomen, gently palpating. When he straightened up he whispered something to the nurse who then quickly disappeared.
“Functional intestinal cramping,” explained Dr. Keitzman to Cathryn, with relief. “Must be a lot of gas. I’ve ordered a shot that will give her instantaneous relief.”
Heavily breathing through her mouth, Cathryn nodded. She sagged back into the seat.
Dr. Keitzman could see the woman’s tormented appearance and her harried expression. He put a hand on her shoulder. “Cathryn, come outside with me for a moment.”
Looking at Michelle, who’d miraculously fallen back to sleep after Dr. Keitzman’s examination, Cathryn silently followed the oncologist out of the room. He led her back to the now familiar chart room.
“Cathryn, I’m concerned about you. You’re under a lot of stress, too.”
Cathryn nodded. She was afraid to talk, thinking her emotions might all surface and overflow.
“Has Charles called?”
Cathryn shook her head. She straightened up and took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry that this has happened the way it has, but you’ve done the right thing.”
Cathryn wondered but kept still.
“Unfortunately it’s not over. I don’t have to tell you because it’s painfully obvious that Michelle is doing very poorly. So far the medicines that we’ve given her have not touched her leukemic cells, and there is no hint of a remission. She has the most aggressive case of myeloblastic leukemia I’ve ever seen, but we will not give up. In fact, we’ll be adding another drug today that I and a few other oncologists have been cleared to use on an experimental basis. It’s had promising results. Meanwhile I want to ask you if Michelle’s two brothers can come in tomorrow for typing to see if either one matches Michelle’s. I think we’re going to be forced to irradiate Michelle and give her a marrow transplant.”
“I think so,” managed Cathryn. “I’ll try.”
“Good,” said Dr. Keitzman, examining Cathryn’s face. She felt his stare and looked away.
“That is quite a shiner you’ve got,” said Dr. Keitzman sympathetically.
“Charles didn’t mean it. It was an accident,” said Cathryn quickly.
“Charles called me last night,” said Dr. Keitzman.
“He did? From where?”
“Right here in the hospital.”
“What did he say?”
“He wanted to know if I would say that benzene caused Michelle’s leukemia, which I told him I couldn’t do, although it’s a possibility. Unfortunately there is no way it could be proven. Anyway, at the end of the conversation I suggested that he should see a psychiatrist.”
“What was his response?”
“He didn’t seem excited about the idea. I wish there were some way to talk him into it. With all the stress he’s been under I’m concerned about him. I don’t mean to frighten you, but we’ve seen similar cases in which the individual has become violent. If there’s any way you can get him to see a psychiatrist, I think you ought to try it.”
Cathryn left the chart room, eager to get back to see Michelle, but when she passed the lounge opposite the nurses’ station, her eye caught the pay phone. Overcoming all of her petty reasons for not calling Charles, she put in a call to the institute. The Weinburger operator plugged in Charles’s lab and Cathryn let it ring ten times. When the operator came back on the line she told Cathryn that she knew Ellen, Charles’s assistant, was in the library, and she asked if Cathryn would like to speak with her. Cathryn agreed and heard the connection put through.
“He’s not in the lab?” asked Ellen.
“There’s no answer,” said Cathryn.
“He might be just ignoring the phone,” explained Ellen. “He’s been acting very strangely. In fact, I’m afraid to even go in there. I suppose you know he’s been dismissed from the Weinburger.”
“I had no idea,” exclaimed Cathryn with obvious shock. “What happened?”
“It’s a long story,” said Ellen, “and I think Charles should tell you about it, not me.”
“He’s been under a lot of stress,” said Cathryn.
“I know,” said Ellen.
“If you see him, would you ask him to call me? I’m at the hospital.”
Ellen agreed but added that she had her doubts that she’d be seeing him.
Cathryn slowly hung up the receiver. She thought for a moment, then called Gina, asking if Charles had phoned. Gina said there hadn’t been any calls. Cathryn next tried to call home but, as she expected, there was no answer. Where was Charles? What was going on?
Cathryn walked back to Michelle’s room, marveling how quickly her previously secure world had collapsed around her. Why had Charles been fired? During the short time Cathryn had worked there, she’d learned that Charles was one of their most respected scientists. What possibly could have happened? Cathryn had only one explanation. Maybe Dr. Keitzman was right. Maybe Charles was having a nervous breakdown and was now wandering aimlessly and alone, cut off from his family and work. Oh God!
Slipping into Michelle’s room as quietly as possible, Cathryn struggled to see the child’s face in the faltering light. She hoped Michelle would be asleep. As her eyes adjusted, she realized Michelle was watching her. She seemed too weak to lift her head. Cathryn went over to her and grasped her warm hand.
“Where’s my daddy?” asked Michelle, moving her ulcerated lips as little as possible.
Cathryn hesitated, trying to think of how best to answer. “Charles is not feeling too well because he’s so worried about you.”
“He told me last night he would come today,” pleaded Michelle.
“He will if he can,” said Cathryn. “He will if he can.”
A single tear appeared on Michelle’s face. “I think it would be better if I were dead.”
Cathryn was shocked into momentary immobility. Then she bent down and hugged the child, giving way to her own tears. “No! No! Michelle. Never think that for a moment.”
The Hertz people had graciously included an ice scraper with the packet of rental documents, and Charles used it on the inside of the front windshield of the van. His breath condensed and then froze on the windshield, blocking his view of the Weinburger entrance. By five-thirty it was pitch dark save for the ribbon of lights on Memorial Drive. By six-fifteen everyone had left the institute except for Dr. Ibanez. It wasn’t until six-thirty that the director appeared, bundled up in an ankle-length fur coat. Bent against the icy wind, he hunched over and made his way to his Mercedes.