The Baby (The Boss 5)

“That’s not something you need to worry about tonight.” Mom reached over to the end table, to the nearly empty box of tissues, to hand me a fresh one. “Right now, let’s just be thankful that he’s going to be okay.”

There was a knock on the door before it opened, and Dr. Harris stepped inside. He’s the kind of guy you’d expect to see running for a senate seat. He has blindingly white teeth and a square jaw right out of an old Superman comic. Being woken up in the middle of the night didn’t suit his complexion; he was as pale as a saltine cracker.

I looked up and pulled my coat tighter around me. Mom kept her arm protectively around my back.

“Sophie,” he said, putting his hand out to shake mine. I felt guilty taking it, since I’d been holding snot rags all night. “I wish we were seeing each other under better circumstances.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” I said with a bitter laugh. “Have you seen him?”

“I did, briefly. He seems to think this is all a lot of fuss for nothing.” Dr. Harris paused, as if to let those words sink in. But I already knew that would be Neil’s reaction. “I think this is indicative of something more serious than I’ve been seeing in our sessions.”

“Maybe it wasn’t a serious attempt,” Mom said hopefully. “Maybe it was a cry for help type of thing.”

“It’s imperative that we treat every attempt as an intent to commit suicide,” Dr. Harris said patiently. “Based on this incident and disclosures made in some of our recent sessions, my recommendation is that Neil be admitted to an inpatient mental health facility.”

“A mental hospital?” I squeezed the crumpled tissue in my fist.

“We don’t use that term. There’s a treatment center upstate that I’ve sent patients to before. I’m sure you’re imagining One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest, but I promise this is a much different set up. It’s very homey, and the staff is excellent. He’ll be able to make phone calls and receive visitors, if he chooses.” Dr. Harris’s tone became more firm. “This is in his best interest, Ms. Scaife.”

I shook my head. It wasn’t that I didn’t want Neil to get better, but he wasn’t going to agree to leave for such a long period of time.

He was trying to leave forever, I reminded myself. I hated when I was right.

Still, there was no way I would be able to convince him. “He’s never going to agree to that.”

“That’s why I’ve suggested an involuntary psychiatric hold.” He took the seat one chair down from me and placed his briefcase between us, popping the locks. “I may be able to get an order without your consent, but as Neil’s power of attorney, your assistance will help this go much easier.”

Involuntary. The word stuck in my brain. I turned to my mom. “He’ll never forgive me.”

“Oh, honey.” She put her arms around me, and I fell apart. I was getting so good at that lately. I’d almost forgotten how to pull myself together again.

“This is a difficult decision for a family to make,” Dr. Harris went on as I cried. “But, ultimately, it’s what will help Neil.”

I knew he was right. Neil had pleaded with me to let him die. He’d tried once, and he would try again. I couldn’t put my life on hold to watch him twenty-four-seven and be a good parent to Olivia, at the same time.

She had to come first. And I owed it to her to keep her afi with her, even if he had to leave for a while to do it.

I sat up a little. “At this place, they’re going to watch him, right? All the time?”

Dr. Harris nodded solemnly. “They take every precaution. Patients are supervised, medicated, and they participate in group and private therapy. I wouldn’t suggest this line of treatment if I weren’t positive that it was the best possible course of action for him.”

“You thought the best possible course of action was to prescribe the fucking Valium,” I snapped, my anger boiling up hot in my chest. It subsided when Dr. Harris flinched at my words.

“If I’d had any suspicion that Neil was harboring suicidal ideation, at the time, I wouldn’t have,” he admitted cautiously. I was surprised he didn’t add “off the record” to cover his ass from a malpractice suit. “Hindsight is twenty-twenty.”

“Sorry.” My shoulders might as well have been lead weights. “I know you’re doing the best you can with him. I’m just angry. And I don’t know where to put it all.”

“That’s understandable,” he said.

I wiped my nose with the now-ineffective kleenex. “Fine. I’ll sign whatever you need me to. Will I be able to see him before they take him anywhere?”

“Of course.” Dr. Harris seemed relieved. “They’ll probably keep him here until tomorrow, for observation. I can drive him to Arbor Rest myself. You could accompany us, if you’d like.”

“No.” There was no way I would be able to ride all the way up there without chickening out. “I don’t even want to see him until after I’ve signed everything.”

“Okay. Then let’s get the ball rolling.” He handed me a few forms. “These will explain all your rights, and Neil’s, and what your responsibilities will be.”

It took forever. Twice, a nurse came out to let me know that Neil was asking for me, and Dr. Harris went in my stead. As I pored over the forms, I was so glad my mother spoke hospital. Finally, everything was in order, and Dr. Harris could handle it from there. There was legal stuff to deal with, but I was so tired that I couldn’t do more than just nod as he talked me through it.