What Looks Like Crazy (11 page)

I checked on Mike and the puppies and, as before, guided the runt to a nipple and sat in the chair while he nursed.

 

Thad's brother called
me the next morning, only minutes after I arrived at the office. I hadn't yet poured a cup of coffee or checked the number of pens in the mug on my desk.

“I can see you at ten a.m.,” I said, “if you can be here by then.”

“I'll be there,” he said.

He showed up as promised, looking as though he hadn't slept in days. He wore jeans and a wrinkled T-shirt, he was unshaven, and his ponytail had grown considerably since I'd seen him. Mona looked perplexed as I led him inside my office.

“It's good to see you again, Thomas,” I said, motioning for him to sit down. “I was sorry to hear that you're going through a hard time.”

“I should never have married Lucille,” he said, “but she seemed so nice when we met. And she was pretty, despite being quite a bit older than me.” He sighed. “She was an exceptional pig farmer, too.”

“What happened?”

“She started going through menopause. Got mean as hell. Got to where she'd jump down my throat every time I opened my mouth. I had no one to talk to but Homer.”

“Who is Homer?”

“My pet hog. He was so small and straggly when he was born that Lucille said he was worthless. But he was such a cute little fellow that I insisted on keeping him around. Followed me like a puppy. I took him to town with me until he got too big to lift. Finally I told Homer I couldn't live with Lucille anymore, and I left.”

I simply nodded.

Thomas continued. “She filed for a divorce. I got an apartment and started going out. I met someone I really liked. Then, a couple of nights ago, Lucille calls and says she went to the doctor, and she's feeling better. She tells me she wants to be friends, and she invites me to dinner. So I go to dinner, and she has cooked a big ham with all the fixings.”

I could see his eyes watering. He looked embarrassed as he swiped them away. I could feel myself frowning. I had a sudden thought. “Is this going where I think it's going?” I asked, unable to believe it.

Tears slipped down his cheek. “It was Homer. Lucille didn't tell me until I'd eaten two hefty servings. She said it was payback for going out with a younger woman.”

I was too stunned to speak. If Thomas hadn't looked so upset, I would have suspected Thad was playing a practical joke on me. “I'm sorry, Thomas,” I finally said.

“I'll tell you, a woman going through menopause can be a dangerous thing,” he said.

We just looked at each other for a moment. “How can I help?” I asked.

“My family and I are at odds right now. I want to have Lucille arrested for killing my hog. I want to sue her for all the emotional distress I've suffered. But my family, including Thad, is against it.”

“Why?”

“They're afraid word will get out that a relative of theirs ate his pet hog. They have this great fear that some reporter will get his hands on the story, and that we'll all become laughingstocks.” He frowned. “They want it swept under the rug, so to speak. You know what snobs my family can be.”

Thomas was right; he did come from a long line of snooty family. Thad could be a class-A snob when it suited him. “You have to decide what's best for you, Thomas,” I said. “But I don't think you should do anything while you're this upset. I'd advise you to take a cooling-off period. Litigation can be costly, and it can drag on forever. How long do you want to stay caught up in all this pain and anger?”

He looked thoughtful. “It would probably jeopardize my new relationship. I don't want that to happen, on account of I need someone to talk to now that Homer is gone.”

I just looked at him. I couldn't believe Thad had dragged me into this. I gave a reassuring smile. “Well, if you want my opinion, strictly as a friend, mind you,” I said, “I think this is a perfect time to reach out to your big brother. I think Thad would be deeply hurt if you didn't turn to him in your time of need.”

 

I left my
office at the end of the day and drove to Wal-Mart. Inside, I headed for the pet section and selected a gentle dog shampoo for Mike that would not pose a threat to her nursing puppies. I searched through dog collars and leashes and, with a grin, chose a matching pink set with rhinestones. I grabbed another bag of dog food and a food-and-water dish labeled “Diva.” It wasn't until I found myself looking at doggie raincoats that I suspected I might be going overboard.

As a kid, I'd never been allowed to have a dog. My mother hated dogs because she claimed she'd come close to being mauled to death by one. Aunt Trixie had told me in confidence that the dog in question had been a poodle, and the bite had not broken the skin.

My mother was almost as bad as George Moss when it came to creating drama.

I was pulling out of the parking lot when I realized I was less than fifteen minutes from Jay's loft. I couldn't resist driving by. I was within a block of his place when I paused at a four-way stop. Behind me, a horn tooted. I groaned, recognizing Jay's SUV immediately. He climbed out and hurried toward my Toyota.

I rolled down my window, and he put his elbows on it and gave me that toe-curling smile. “Did you decide to come back home?” he asked. He wore a black T-shirt and snug faded jeans. He was toned and finely muscled and sexy as hell.

“Actually I was trying to avoid traffic.” I could tell he wasn't buying it.

“How come you haven't returned my calls?”

I tried to avoid looking into those blue eyes. I could get lost in them and never find my way out. “I've been really busy, and I have all these obligations,” I said quickly. “I have a new dog, and—”

“I thought dogs were forbidden in your family after your mother almost died from being attacked by a rabid Doberman.”

“This dog followed me home, and then she had puppies.”

“Wow.” A horn blew. Jay motioned him around. “What are we going to do, Katie?” he said, fixing his gaze on me once more.

“This is not a good time for me, Jay.”

“Perhaps you can work me in. Should I take a number?”

I put my car into park and gave a heated sigh. “Why do you want to talk
now
?” I demanded. “It has been almost six months. Six months,” I repeated.

“Are we supposed to forget that Sunday night ever happened?”

“Oh, this is about sex.”

“Not entirely.”

Another horn blew. I glanced in my rearview mirror and saw half a dozen cars waiting. Again, Jay motioned them around. “Our circumstances haven't changed,” I said.

“So we're back to that. My job,” he added.

“Hello?” I waved a hand in his face. “It has always been about your job.” A guy drove around Jay and flashed his middle finger.

Jay ignored it. “Why do you just
assume
I'm going to end up dead like your old man?”

I didn't respond.

“Why don't we do this, Kate? Why don't we, for the sake of argument, suppose that I might be better-skilled at my job than your father was at his?”

“That's a crummy thing to say!” I blurted.

“Yeah, well, it's pretty crummy that my wife has no confidence in my skills despite my years of training. The department wouldn't have made me captain if they didn't think I knew what I was doing.”

“You could have died, Jay!”

“But I didn't. It was a freak accident. An investigation later proved the building was not structurally sound to begin with, or it would never have collapsed. The fire was not hot enough at that point. I know what the hell I'm doing, Katie.”

I had the ball of one hand pressed against my forehead. “I don't
care
that the building wasn't sound. I don't
care
that it was a freak accident. It happened, okay? And it scared the hell out of me.” I wasn't going to tell him that all my old fears had come rushing back at me like a huge tidal wave. I wasn't going to tell him about the nightmares that followed. He would only accuse me of being irrational, as he'd done in the past. We would argue, and in the end nothing would get solved.

“I'm sorry, Katie,” he said. “I'm sorry you got so scared that day.”

A giant lump sprang to my throat at the gentleness in his voice. I opened my mouth to speak, only to be interrupted when the driver behind me leaned on his horn. I stuck my head out the window, ready to spew a litany of four-letter words at him, but I bit them back when I saw there were children in the car.

“I need to go.” I put my car into gear. “Where's your foot?”

He opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it. Finally he stepped back, and I drove on. Tears burned my eyes. Nothing had been settled.

 

Mike just stared
at me as I held up her new collar. “What? You don't like it?”

She cocked her head to the side, and her tail thumped against the floor. “I haven't wanted to bring this up,” I said, “but you stink. I think a nice hot bubble bath is just the thing you need. That and a new collar, and you'll feel like a million bucks.”

I grabbed the shampoo and headed upstairs. Mike followed and waited while I ran water in the tub. I wondered if she would freak out when I put her in the water, but when I carefully lifted her and set her down in it, she seemed to take it in stride. She stood perfectly still as I shampooed her twice. I wondered how a likeable, well-behaved dog had ended up a stray.

I towel-dried her, then used my blow-dryer on her wiry coat. I didn't want her damp when she rejoined her puppies. Last, I put the collar on her. “You're such a good girl,” I said. “I have no doubt I'll be able to find a good home for you, as well as your puppies, when the time comes.”

She fixed her big brown eyes on mine. “Don't look at me like that,” I said. “I can't keep you. My life is too screwed up right now.
I'm
too screwed up. The fact that I'm telling a dog all my problems should be a clear indication.”

Mike waited while I cleaned the tub. I didn't know whether she was trying to be polite or whether some instinct told her I was about to go off the deep end. Since she did not seem in a hurry to rejoin the puppies, I took her for a brief walk, using her new leash. Afterward I sat by the box in the laundry room and saw that the runt nursed. In the kitchen, I tried to decide what to cook for dinner. It was already getting late. Finally I pulled some tuna fish from my cabinet, drained it, and ate it right out of the can as Mike watched.

“See what I mean?” I said. “This is no way to live.”

The phone rang. Thad spoke from the other end and wasted no time getting to the point. “Did you talk Thomas out of going to an attorney?”

“I can't discuss what went on in a private session,” I said.

“It wasn't a real session. You just talked to him.”

“Why don't
you
talk to him, Thad? It wouldn't kill you to get involved in your brother's life.”

“We have nothing in common. Thomas is in a bowling league, for Pete's sake!”

“Oh, like I have anything in common with
my
family, better known as Dysfunctional ‘R' Us?”

“Let's face it, Kate; you're a better woman than I am a man.”

“You're not as shallow and insensitive as you pretend to be. I know that deep down you're a decent human being.”

Thad sighed. “I hate it when you try to make me into something I'm not.”

“I believe in you, Thad.”

“It would be so much easier to just buy Thomas another hog,” he said before he hung up.

Mona and I
sipped coffee in the kitchen before Nancy and my first patient of the day arrived. I noticed that Mona looked worried.

“I'm thinking this thing with Liam and me isn't going to work out,” she said. “He's tired all the time. He has problems holding his eyes open at dinner. I think that's the only reason he hasn't pushed for sex; he doesn't have the energy. Of course, there's always the possibility that he's not really attracted to me.”

“He certainly seemed attracted when he came by to pick you up for dinner,” I said, “but I know medical school is a bear.”

“Exactly,” she said with a nod. “I need a man who has more time to devote to
me.
” She took a sip of her coffee. “But enough about me. Why do
you
look worried?”

“I'm concerned about one of Mike's puppies,” I said. “The runt,” I added.

“When do you see the vet?” she asked.

“Friday was the earliest appointment I could get.” I gave a wide yawn. I'd gotten up several times during the night to make sure the runt ate.

“Don't let it stress you,” Mona said. “You and Mrs. Perez are doing a great job.” She paused. “Anything else on your mind?” she asked.

There were times when I felt Mona could read my thoughts. I shrugged. “I guess I'm having a case of pre-divorce jitters.”

“It's not too late to change your mind, you know.”

“It's complicated.”

“So you've said. But complicated and irreparable aren't the same.”

I was thankful that Nancy chose that moment to come through the door. I couldn't explain my feelings to Mona when I didn't understand them myself.

 

I was dragging
by late afternoon. Bad enough I'd lost so much sleep the night before; the morning had not gone well. One of my clinically depressed patients had taken a nosedive after discovering her husband's infidelity. Later, a family counseling session that included a troubled teen had turned into a yelling match between father and son.

I felt confident that I had helped in each case, but it had taken the wind out of me. To make matters worse, Mona was down in the dumps at the thought of breaking it off with Liam, and Nancy feared she would never find a job. I also feared Nancy would not find a job before I got caught with a nail salon in my kitchen.

All in all, I could not wait for the day to end. I was counting the hours until I could climb into my bed and put the day behind me. I splashed cold water on my face, gulped back a cup of strong coffee, and waited for my last patient of the day to arrive.

Arnie Decker was a forty-seven-year-old ex-Marine who'd served in the Persian Gulf. I'd treated a number of military personnel for posttraumatic stress disorder; I recognized the signs well since PTSD had been the topic of my dissertation. But Arnie did not suffer from it.

He was simply lonely. He was the loneliest person I knew. Two failed marriages and a slew of relationships that had gone nowhere had convinced Arnie he was better off alone. Which was sad, because he was a strapping blond-going-gray who, thanks to Uncle Sam, had learned the importance of good physical fitness and sharply creased slacks.

A month's worth of sessions had gotten us nowhere; my gentle prodding to get Arnie to open up had made him more tight-lipped than ever. So we discussed his job as a chef in a four-star French restaurant, and I was privy to the secret ingredients that made his elaborate dishes the talk of the town. That Arnie would share those ingredients proved he trusted me. That he could not bring himself to give me the exact measurements showed we still had a way to go.

Arnie was in the process of listing the ingredients of his new and improved béarnaise sauce when I found my thoughts drifting and my yawns harder to hide. My eyes burned, and my lashes felt as though tiny weights had been attached to them. I did not realize I'd dozed off until Arnie suddenly cried out in indignation, jolting me from my mininap.

“I can't believe you fell asleep on me!” he said. “There are chefs in town who would kill for this recipe.”

To say I was mortified was an understatement. I straightened in my chair, an apology on my tongue. Instead I crossed my arms and gazed coolly at him.

“You know what, Arnie? Next to me, you have the most boring life in the world. I don't know
why
you're here, but I don't think it's to bounce recipe ideas off me. Until you decide to open up and tell me what's
really
bugging you, you're wasting your time and money coming here.”

I had to pause to catch my breath.

Arnie just stared. Then he hung his head. “You're right, Dr. Kate.”

I didn't know what to say, but I tried not to act surprised that I might have accidentally touched on something.

“The truth is, I'm so damn lonely I don't know what to do. I can't have a successful marriage, and I don't fit in with my old Marine buddies. I don't fit in anywhere. I'm an outcast. I'm in pain, but I'm too embarrassed to talk about my problem.”

I softened at the look in Arnie's eyes. He really was in pain, so much that I could almost forgive him for being boring. My first thought was that Arnie was gay. It would explain the failed marriages and relationships and why he didn't fit in with the guys.

“Okay, so you're gay,” I said.

He shook his head.

“Bisexual?”

“Nope.”

“Cross-dresser?”

Another shake of the head.

“Then what?”

He covered his eyes. “This is so hard.”

“Come on, Arnie. It's not my job to judge my clients.” He refused to look at me. “Don't make me arm wrestle the information out of you,” I said, trying to put him at ease.

Finally he dragged his hands down his face and met my eyes. “Dr. Kate, you're looking at a woman trapped in a man's body.”

I'll admit I hadn't seen it coming. “Okay!” I said, trying to sound as though I dealt with that sort of thing all the time so I would lessen his shame. “You simply have a transgender issue,” I said. “It's more prevalent than you think.” Actually, I couldn't recall the statistics; there were more gender and sexual orientation disorders than Mona had credit cards. It didn't help that one disorder could be mistaken for or overlap another. “It'll take some time and work, but we can deal with it. Together,” I added.

“I know all about gender identity disorders,” he said dully. “I've researched them. Do you have any idea what it's like for me to walk around acting all macho and praying nobody finds out my toenails are painted?” As if acting on impulse, he suddenly pulled off one shoe and sock, and stuck out his foot so that I could see his red toenails.

I shook my head sadly. “Oh, Arnie.”

“I knew you'd be disgusted.”

“Who wouldn't be,” I said. “That's the worst nail-painting I've ever seen.”

He put down his foot, clearly offended. “So I'm not an expert. You don't have to be rude.”

“Trust me, I'm telling you for your own good.” I checked my wristwatch. “Look, we're out of time, but we have made a lot of headway today. In the meantime, why don't you let me schedule you an appointment with our manicurist in the back? Believe me, a good pedicure will go a long way toward making you feel better.”

 

I arrived home
to find my front door splattered with dried egg. The broken shells beneath it suggested that an entire dozen had been used as artillery. I was stunned. Had Bitsy lost her mind? Or had one of her nutcase church members decided to join her in making my life miserable?

I muttered a four-letter word and marched across the street. I banged on Bitsy Stout's door a full five minutes before she finally answered.

“Are you crazy?” I shouted. “You can't just go around defacing other people's property.”

Bitsy hitched her jaw in defiance. “You can't prove I did it.”

“I don't need proof. You're the only nutso neighbor I've got, and if you set foot on my property again, you're going to regret it.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Call it what you like, but if I catch you in my yard again, I'll sic my dog on you.”

Bitsy smirked. “That little thing couldn't hurt a housefly.”

I hate smirks. I wanted to smack that smirk right off of her face. Instead I crossed my arms and smirked right back at her. “Well, for your information, her father was a pit bull and dangerously vicious.”

Bitsy slammed the door in my face. I crossed the street, went inside my house, and let Mike out to relieve herself. By the time she returned, I'd changed into jeans and a T-shirt and taken a couple of pictures of the crime scene. I had no idea how I was going to build a case against Bitsy, but I couldn't afford to let her damage my door so severely that I was forced to replace it.

I filled a bucket with hot sudsy water. I scrubbed and muttered foul words for more than an hour and was rinsing away the soap with a garden hose when the police pulled up.

I watched the officers cross my yard. “Are you Kate Holly?” the older one asked.

I immediately became anxious. Had something happened to Jay? Had my mother and aunt been in an accident? “Yes,” I said quickly. “What's wrong?”

“We got a call from one of your neighbors that you threatened her life.”

I gave a huge sigh. “I don't believe this.”

“Did you or did you not threaten to unleash your killer attack dog on your neighbor Miss Stout?”

I tried to think my way out of getting arrested, but before I could answer, a familiar black SUV pulled up. Jay climbed out and crossed the yard.

“Good afternoon, officers,” he said politely. “I understand we have a little problem here.”

“Who are you?” the younger officer asked.

“I know who he is,” the other man said, regarding Jay. They shook hands. “Who called the fire department?”

“Nobody,” Jay said. “I heard it over the scanner. Figured you guys might need backup. This is one dangerous woman you're dealing with. I'm married to her, so I should know.”

I was sure Bitsy Stout was peering out her window at the whole thing. “That's really funny, Jay,” I said.

“Your wife supposedly threatened to sic her attack dog on an old lady.”

“She also made lewd and lascivious gestures,” the younger one said.

Jay looked at me. “Dang, Kate. That's no way to treat a senior citizen.”

I tried to explain my side of the story. “It started with that sculpture,” I said, pointing to it. “Bitsy calls it pornographic.”

All three men studied it closely. “What's it supposed to be?” the younger one asked.

“It's called
First Man and Woman
. I think it's supposed to be Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.”

“I'll bet I know where you got that,” Jay said, looking amused.

“What's that thing there?” the younger cop asked, pointing to the man.

I gave an enormous sigh. “A leaf.”

Jay continued to look amused as I told them how Bitsy had defaced my door twice. His smile faded when I told them about the threatening phone call at work.

“Did you file a complaint?” the older officer asked, still studying the statue.

“No. I'm sort of in the process of building my case.”

“Well, we need to get a look at the animal,” he said.

I opened the door and stepped back so they could enter. I led them to my utility room. As if acting on cue, Mike was lying in her box, looking docile, while her puppies nursed. She wagged her tail.

“That's your killer attack dog?” the younger officer said.

“Yep,” I said as Mike's tail thumped against the cardboard box. “She is just disguised as a puny little mutt who recently gave birth.”

The young cop grinned. “Hey, those are some cute puppies. My kids would love to have a puppy.”

“It can be arranged,” I assured him.

The older cop shook his head. “Look, you can get into a lot of trouble by threatening people,” he said. “Especially old ladies,” he added. “I'm going to give you a warning this time, but if it happens again, you're not going to be so lucky.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Jay cut me off. “Nod your head, Katie,” he said. “Promise the policeman you'll play nice from now on. You do
not
want to go to jail. Bad things can happen to good girls who land in jail.”

I gulped and nodded fiercely.

“See that?” Jay said to the men. “She's learned her lesson.”