Because of his idiocy, Alice wasn’t speaking to him. He’d tried to talk with her, but she wouldn’t even listen. He’d disappointed her. He wasn’t “her little man” anymore. He deserved to be laughed at by the other children. Tom had tried to reason with her, promising that he would help Gloria that morning, and that as soon as he could he’d rid them of the meddlesome nurse. He promised and cried, but to no avail. Alice could be stubborn.
Getting stiffly to his feet, Tom stretched his cramped muscles. He’d been crouched in the corner without moving for hours, thinking his mother would eventually feel sorry for him. But it hadn’t worked. She’d ignored him. So he thought he’d try talking to her directly.
Moving in front of the chest freezer he snapped open the lock and raised the lid. The frozen mist inside the freezer swirled as it mixed with a draft of moist, warm Miami air. Gradually the mist dissipated, and out of the fog emerged the desiccated face of Alice Widdicomb. Her dyed red hair was frozen into icy tangles. The skin of her face was sunken, blotchy, and blue. Crystals had formed along the edges of her open eyelids. Her eyeballs had contracted slightly, dimpling the surface of her corneas which were opaque with winter-like frost. Her yellow teeth were exposed by the retraction of her lips, forming a horrid grimace.
Since Tom and his mother had lived such isolated lives, Tom had little difficulty after he’d put her to sleep. His only mistake had been that he’d not thought of the freezer soon enough, and after a couple of days she’d started to smell. One of the few neighbors with whom they occasionally spoke had even mentioned it, throwing Tom into a panic. That was when he’d thought of the freezer.
Since then nothing had changed. Even Alice’s social security checks continued to arrive on schedule. The only close call had been when the freezer compressor conked out one hot Friday night. Tom hadn’t been able to get someone to come to fix it until Monday. He had been terrified the guy would need to open the freezer, but he didn’t. The man did tell Tom that he thought he might have some bad meat in there.
Supporting the lid, Tom gazed at his mother. But she still refused to say a word. She was understandably scared.
“I’ll do it today,” Tom said pleadingly. “Gloria will still be on IVs. If not, I’ll think of something. And the nurse. I’ll get rid of her. There’s not going to be any problem. No one is going to come to take you away. You’re safe with me. Please!”
Alice Widdicomb said nothing.
Slowly Tom lowered the lid. He waited for a moment in case she changed her mind, but she didn’t. Reluctantly he left her and went through to the kitchen into the bedroom they’d shared for so many years. Opening the bedside table he took out Alice’s gun. It had been his father’s originally, but after he’d died, Alice had taken it over, frequently showing it to Tom, saying that if anyone ever tried to come between them, she’d use it. Tom had learned to love the sight of the mother-of-pearl handle.
“Nobody’s ever coming between us, Alice,” Tom said. So far he’d only used the gun once, and that was when the Arnold girl tried to interfere by taking him aside to say she’d seen him take some medicine off the anesthesia cart. Now he’d have to use it again for this Janet Reardon before she caused more trouble than she already had.
“I’ll prove to you that I’m your little man,” Tom said. He slipped the cold gun into his pocket and went into the bathroom to shave.
6
March 5
Friday, 6:30 A.M.
As she drove along the General Douglas MacArthur Causeway heading for work, Janet tried to distract herself by admiring the impressive view over Biscayne Bay. She even tried to fantasize about taking a cruise with Sean on one of the dazzling white cruise ships lined up at the Dodge Island seaport. But nothing worked. Her mind kept returning to the previous night’s events.
After confronting that man in her bathroom, Janet wasn’t about to spend the night in 207. Not even Sean’s apartment seemed a safe haven to her. Instead, she insisted on moving to the Miami Beach unit she’d rented. Not wanting to be alone, she’d invited Sean to come with her and was relieved when he accepted and even offered to sleep on the couch. But once they got there, even Janet’s best resolutions fell to the wayside. They slept together in what Sean described as the “Platonic fashion.” They didn’t make love, but Janet had to admit, it felt good to be close to him.
Almost as much as the intruder’s break-in, Janet was troubled by her escapade with Sean. The episode in the administration office the previous night troubled her deeply. She couldn’t stop thinking about what would have happened had they been caught. On top of that, she’d begun to wonder what kind of man Sean was. He was smart and witty, of that there was no doubt. But given this new revelation of his past experience of thievery, she questioned what his true morals were.
All in all Janet felt profoundly distraught, and to make matters worse she was facing a day in which she was expected to obtain deceitfully a sample of medicine that was highly controlled. If she failed, she faced the possibility of Sean packing his things and leaving Miami. As she neared the hospital Janet found herself thinking longingly about Sunday, the first day she was scheduled to have off. The fact that she was already thinking about vacation time at the start of her second day on the job gave an indication of her level of stress.
The bustling atmosphere of the floor turned out to be a godsend for Janet’s troubled mind. Within minutes of her arrival, she was swept up in the tumult of the hospital. Nursing report gave the oncoming day shift a hint of the work ahead of them. Between diagnostic tests, treatments, and complicated medication protocols, all the nurses knew they would have little free time. The most disturbing news was that Helen Cabot had not improved overnight as the doctors had hoped. In fact, the night nurse taking care of her felt she’d actually lost ground, having had a small seizure around four A.M. Janet listened carefully to this part of the briefing since she’d arranged to be assigned to Helen Cabot for the day.
Regarding the controlled medicines, Janet had concocted a plan. Having seen the type of vials they came in, she’d made it a point to obtain similar vials that were empty. Now all she needed was some time alone with the medicine.
After report had concluded, Janet launched into work. The first order of business was to start an IV line for Gloria D’Amataglio. It was Gloria’s last day of IV medication on her current chemotherapy cycle. Having shown an early facility with venipuncture, Janet was in demand for the procedure. During report she’d offered to start Gloria’s IV since there had been some problems doing so in the past. The nurse scheduled to care for Gloria for the day had readily agreed.
Armed with all the necessary paraphernalia, Janet went into Gloria’s room. Gloria was sitting on the bed, leaning against a bank of pillows, obviously feeling better than she had the day before. While they chatted nostalgically about the beauty of the pond on the Wellesley campus and how romantic it had been on party weekends, Janet got the IV going.
“I hardly felt that,” Gloria said in admiration.
“Glad to help,” Janet said.
Leaving Gloria’s room, Janet felt her stomach tighten as she prepared herself for her next task: getting to the controlled medication. She had to dodge several gurneys, then did a kind of sidestep dance to get around the housekeeper and his bucket.
Reaching the nurses’ station, Janet got out Helen Cabot’s chart and turned to the order sheet. It indicated that Helen was to get her MB30 °C and MB303C starting at eight A.M. First Janet got the IV bottle and syringes; she then got the empty containers which she’d put aside. Finally she went to Marjorie and asked for Helen’s medication.