Dead Letter Day (13 page)

“Seriously?” I asked. They’d be better off sending in a wolf biologist than a psychiatrist at this point as far as I could tell.

“He’s not the most extreme case we’ve ever seen. People come in here thinking they’re all kinds of people or animals or angels or demons or vampires.” She started back toward her desk and we trooped after her. “We get Jesus a lot. A few Napoleons. The occasional Queen of England.”

“So he’s not responding to anything? Not to the drugs? Not to the doctors?” Ted asked.

“A little when his wife comes in, but she’s pretty freaked at the moment. Can’t blame her with those two little ones to take care of.” She plopped back down in her chair. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Ted shook his head and walked toward the door without a word. “Thanks for your time. We appreciate it,” I said. This was a weird role reversal. It was usually Ted who made sure one of us observed all the social niceties.

The nurse buzzed us out and we headed back to our car. “Are you okay?” I asked.

He sort of grunted at me and kept walking, stretching those long legs of his enough that I had to scurry a little to keep up. I’m not a fan of scurrying. The fact that I was carrying his unborn child, and that apparently building a placenta had been making me tired and ill, did not make me
any happier with him for making me scurry, even if he had no idea. “Yo. Slow down there. Where’s the fire?”

He glanced over his shoulder at me, but didn’t say anything. He did slow down his pace a little, though. We got back into the truck, still without a word from him.

“What the hell is going on with you?” I asked, buckling myself in with a scowl. Moodiness. Snippiness. These were all my bailiwicks. He was totally poaching on my territory.

“I need to get away from here, okay? Can we talk about it later?” He put the truck in gear and pulled out of our parking spot.

“Whatever,” I said and slumped down in my seat.

Then it started to dawn on me. Ted’s father had been in and out of mental institutions his entire adult life. Ted must have visited him in one at least once or twice as a kid. Watching Michael Hollinger growl and snarl and fling his trussed-up body against the door of his room over and over had been upsetting to me. What would it have felt like if I’d been his kid? Or even just a kid?

I turned toward Ted, horrified at how obtuse I’d been. “You visited your dad in places like that, didn’t you?”

“A few times.” He was doing that thing where his voice sounded normal, but I could see that he was clenching his jaw and his fingers were curled around the steering wheel so tightly that the knuckles were beginning to whiten.

“And sometimes he was like that? Like Michael Hollinger?” I asked.

Ted took a deep breath and then blew it out. “Not exactly. He didn’t howl like a werewolf.”

I guess he had that going for him. “But he was like an animal?”

Ted laughed, but it was an entirely humorless laugh. “Oh, yeah. Been there. Done that.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think of that. We should never have gone.” I twisted in my seat so I was facing him.

“I’m a big boy, Melina. I know those places exist. I know what the people who are in them are like. It was my idea, anyway.” His voice sounded dull and flat.

That was true. At least I didn’t have to blame myself for that. “I know you’re a big boy, but it still must be upsetting.” Well, duh, considering how he was acting now.

Ted sighed. “More than I expected it to be. Sorry about that.” He shook himself as if he could shake off the bad memories. “It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Yeah, I totally get that it doesn’t matter by the way you’re acting.” I shifted back in my seat so I was looking out the windshield.

“Just give me a few minutes, please.” He pleaded.

“Take all the time you want,” I said.

That was it for the next ten minutes or so. Could silence actually suffocate a person? I was beginning to think it could. At the very least, it was making my stomach start to roll. I cracked the window open.

That made him look. He arched a brow at me. “You fart?”

I hit him. “No. I didn’t fart. I needed a little air.”

“I suppose a little air wouldn’t hurt anything. I’m sorry. It’s hard to explain. I didn’t expect it to get to me. Then when I saw him in there, after having just seen his kids, it was like I was suddenly back there again. Seeing my dad, restrained, slavering, making animal noises.”

“You could have said something. I would have understood.”

He looked over at me and for the first time I really saw the pain in his eyes. “No. I’m sorry. I couldn’t.”

WE HAD A LOT OF INFORMATION TO PROCESS, BUT I didn’t feel like any of it was going to give me any answers. What did it mean that Michael Hollinger went crazy after having been bitten by a suspect he was chasing? Why were there two of whatever they were in Leann McMannis’s garage? I slumped down in the passenger seat of the truck to think as Ted drove us home. Then suddenly we were pulling up in front of my apartment building.

I sat up and checked my chin for drool. “When did I fall asleep?”

“Instantly,” Ted said, turning in his seat to face me. “What is going on with you?”

“Me? You’re the one who’s actually having moods, sunshine.” Sometimes the best defense is a good offense and I so wasn’t ready to tell Ted that I was pregnant. I wasn’t completely ready to admit it to myself.

He shook his head. “Fine. Whatever. We need to change to get to your parents’ house on time.”

I glanced at my watch. He was so very right. I hopped out of the truck, which was, of course, parked right in front of my building. I swear he has some kind of parking magic. Not only is there always a spot, he can maneuver his truck into spaces that I swear are smaller than the actual truck. We headed up the stairs. Norah was already in the apartment, waiting.

“You’re late,” she said as I let us in, immediately dispelling the relief I’d felt at the fact that she was no longer chaining the door when she was there alone with a healthy dose of irritation at being reminded that I was behind schedule. “I know. I’m moving. I’ll make up for it by wearing a skirt, okay?”

“Whatever.”

What was with everyone and the whatevers? “I’ll be ready in five.” I sprinted back to my room, dropped my jeans to the ground, tossed my jacket and tank top over the chair in the corner, grabbed a skirt and blouse from the back of the closet and threw them on. I breathed a sigh of relief when the skirt zipped with no problem. How long before the tiny Ted or minuscule Melina inside of me made a bulge that was hard to zip over? Weeks? Months? Days?

I grabbed a pair of boots from my closet because no way was I going to take the time to wriggle into a pair of panty hose and dashed back down the hallway. “See?” I said, bursting into the room.

Ted and Norah jumped apart as if they’d been kissing, except that they were sitting too far away from each other for that. I’d definitely interrupted something, though. I might not be the greatest at reading ’Danes, but I knew a guilty look when I saw one. I’d seen more than a few on my own face in the mirror.

“What’s going on?” I asked, pausing to get my heel worked the rest of the way into my boot.

“What do you mean?” Norah asked, standing up and brushing off her skirt. She was wearing panty hose. Suck-up.

No way was I going to be distracted by her sartorial one-upmanship. “I mean, what were you doing when I came in?”

Ted stood now, too. “What makes you think we were doing anything?”

Had I imagined what I saw? Suddenly I felt unsure. Could pregnancy hormones make you bizarrely paranoid?

“Put on some lipstick, Melina. We need to go if we’re going to pick up your grandmother,” Norah pointed out.

As if I would leave Grandma Rosie in the lurch on a
Friday night. Pffft. I went to the bathroom, smeared on some lip gloss and walked out the door without another word.

“YOU LOOK TIRED,” GRANDMA ROSIE SAID AS I WALKED her down the hallway toward where Ted and Norah waited in the Buick.

“I am a little tired.”

Grandma Rosie stopped, which is never a good thing. It seems to take longer and longer to get her motor going these days. I took another couple of steps, hoping she’d move along with me, but she didn’t. I turned around. “What?”

“You’re never tired.” She stared at me hard.

“Well, I am now. I’m tired and I’m hungry and Mom is making me brisket so can we get the lead out here?” I started walking again and was rewarded by the sound of the tennis balls on her walker legs shushing along the carpet.

“Brisket? What’s the occasion?” Did she sound a little out of breath?

“No occasion that I know of. She asked me what I wanted and that’s what I said.” Because red meat sounded really good right now.

“You two seem to be getting along quite well lately.” Did Grandma Rosie sound a little bit snarky?

I wondered how long that would last. I’m not sure my mother would be thrilled to know I was expecting a baby out of wedlock. Mom isn’t a prude, but she does like it when things are done in the right order. I’m pretty sure in her mind that would put marriage before conception of progeny. “Yeah. Everything’s great.”

“Why is that?” Grandma asked.

I glanced over my shoulder at her and laughed. “Does a girl need a reason to get along with her mother?”

“A girl doesn’t, but you do.” She stopped again, this time clearly to catch her breath. “Watching the two of you try to communicate has been like watching two trains barreling down different tracks. Now all of a sudden you look like you’re on the same one.”

“Then we better be careful. That’s how collisions happen.” We were finally at the front door. It whooshed open in front of her and she stepped out to where Ted was waiting to help her into the Buick.

She let him hang on to her hands as she lowered herself into the passenger seat. She drew the line at letting him lift her legs in and pivot her in the seat. That was my job, after I folded up the walker. It had gotten to be like a dance, one where the steps got slower and slower every week.

It scared me. It’s not like I didn’t understand what life stage my grandmother was in. I got it. I understand that none of us get out of here alive. It was just that Grandma Rosie had been around my whole life. I had no conception of what my world would be like without her in it.

Without thinking, my hand went to my stomach again. Would Grandma Rosie be there for the little person that was growing inside me right now? Tears pricked at the back of my eyelids. Grandma had always been there for me. She’d been my ally and my playmate and my safety net. I wanted her to do that for my baby.

“Are you feeling sick again?” Norah asked me.

“So she has been ill,” Grandma Rosie said.

“I’m not sick. I’m fine. I’m a little tired and I eat too much pizza and not enough vegetables.” At least, that was my story for tonight.

Grandma Rosie said, “Well, duh.”

Norah said, “True that.”

Ted said, “No joke.”

All in unison. Like a judgmental Greek chorus. “Anything else?” I asked.

“You should wear lipstick more often. It suits you,” Grandma Rosie said.

“Maybe some yoga for relaxation,” Norah said.

Ted was silent. He is a lot of things. Stupid is not one of them.

“Got it,” I said. “I’ll take it all under advisement.”

We spent the rest of the ride discussing the new human resource person at Norah’s office that she suspected might be bipolar and was either going to get fired soon or get the company sued. I was extremely happy to be discussing someone else’s faults rather than my own.

Ted turned onto Florin Road and into the little U-shaped landmass known as the Pocket that extended into the Sacramento River. I felt like I could smell the brisket already. From there we turned onto Greenhaven. At that point, I was sure I could smell the brisket. I could possibly even detect onions and mushrooms sautéing to be mixed in with the couscous. Then we meandered through a few more winding streets and into my parents’ driveway. By the time we did Grandma Rosie’s walker dance in reverse, my father already had the door open and Aunt Kitty came flying out.

Aunt Kitty is just enough younger than my mom to make her automatically the cool sister. She’s a total pit bull when it comes to making real estate deals, but when it comes to family, she’s a total marshmallow. She also knows when to stop asking questions, something the rest of my family is not very good at. I adore her and somehow I hadn’t seen her in weeks and weeks.