"How can you be so tired? What do you do over there but sit and talk to mentally disturbed people? I wouldn't even call it talking. Qu
estion after question. 'Why do you hate your mother? Why do you hate your father?' If they aren't crazy when they arrive, they are before they leave," she muttered.
Whenever something bothered her, no matter how small or big it was, she relieved herself by being critical of me and my profession. Usually. if I paid little attention to it and barely defended myself, she would soon stop.
"Someone asked me the other day," she continued, whipping her words at me. "I think it was Sara Marshall. Yes, it was Sara Marshall. She asked me if you do those horrible shock things to people, and I told her I had no idea what you do over there. Do you?"
"No, Alberta. We don't."
"That's a relief." she said. She looked at the clock and sighed deeply. "The counting has begun." she said.
"Oh?"
"I'm not going to sit around here all day like some woman in labor and wait for the phone call. They'll have to find me."
"I wish you luck. Alberta." I said. She looked up at me and stared for a long moment, just like someone trying desperately to remember something.
"Oh, yes," she said. "That Dr. Price called asking after you. He said you were at the clinic last night. I told him he was mistaken. You were home. Weren't you home. Claude?"
I looked away to avoid her. Willow, I felt like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but when I looked back at her. I realized Alberta's eyes were too clouded with her own concerns to see anything in my face.
"I had to check on something, yes," I said.
"You ought to just move in there. Claude. Turn one of the looney bin roams into a second bedroom for yourself." she said. She put her coffee cup down so sharply, it almost shattered. "I'm not sitting around here waiting for them to call." she repeated, stood up, and started out of the dining room. At the door she paused. "If I have any good news to tell you later. I'll call the clinic. I have no doubt you'll be there." she added and left.
The whole time she had been with me. I had been intermittently holding my breath. The air was so still and stagnant in the room. I felt as if I was shut up in a house without windows. Tiny beads of sweat had formed on my forehead, in fact. I wiped my face with my napkin and then rose to go to the clinic. Miles was waiting for me outside, speaking to one of the grounds people. He looked up as soon as I appeared.
"You all right. Doctor?"
"Fine. Miles. Let's go," I said and he moved quickly.
What a mess I felt I was in now. Willow. I was worried about explaining myself to Ralston, of course, but as we drove to the clinic, I was also very much concerned and worried about Grace. What would be the effect on her of what we had done the night before? Was Ralston looking for me because of her behavior today? Had I caused some terrible regression or exacerbated her problems? Her mother, your grandmother, had brought her to me to help her, to make her well enough to return to their world. Had my selfish acts made that all be impossible now?
Saying I was tense doesn't do justice to how I felt when I entered the clinic. Ralston was in a session with Palmer, so I had some breathing room there. Nadine Gordon was attending to some other patients, but she was the first to inquire as to my health.
"I'm fine," I told her.
"You do work too hard. Doctor," she said, surprising me with the softness in her voice. "I might not show it, but I worry about you."
"Thank you for your concern. Ms. Gordon. I'm all right."
"You try too hard with some of our patients. Doctor. No one should expect miracles of you."
I nodded.
"Any particular problems this morning?" I asked.
She stared at me a long moment. Did she know that I was really inquiring only about Grace?
"No," she said. "Your Miss Montgomery..."
"Yes?" I said, trying not to appear overly interested.
"Is very chipper and energetic today. In fact, she's in the arts and crafts roam helping Miss Richards with the other patients. One would think she was one of our attendants. She practically begged me not to make her take her medication this morning, claiming she had no need of it.
"I told her when she graduated medical school. I would take orders from her,' she added dryly.
"Interesting." I said.