38. Chapter 38
Chapter thirty-eight
E liza watched rain spatter the dingy windows of the Fort Worth Women's Health Center as she sat mindlessly flipping the pages of an outdated issue of Southern Living . The medical office, located on the fifth floor of a sprawling complex, was located near the campus of the Texas Health Methodist Hospital. Sparsely decorated, the large waiting room featured beige floral print walls, standard issue commercial tile floor, and padded seating that were purchased sometime in the mid-nineties.
After checking in, Eliza was given a clipboard with five forms to gather family history, insurance information, and health information releases. But after making up false information for ten minutes, she gave up and returned the paperwork and pen to the receptionist, and instead picked up a magazine. She was unsure of what she would say when she was called back but figured she could wing it. It was at this moment that she wished she had allowed Judas to come upstairs with her. He always brought her a sense of calm, but she reminded herself that he might raise suspicion.
"Beth Christian?"
Eliza's head snapped to the petite redheaded nurse holding her chart just outside the entrance to the exam rooms.
"Yes," she stood and moved toward the woman.
The pair crossed the threshold, zigzagging down a couple of hallways until they reached their destination. Eliza's insides trembled with anxiety as the nurse took her pulse, blood pressure, and oxygen level.
The woman's voice broke the bubble of silence, "Alright, if you want to get into that gown, Dr. Dupree will be in shortly."
With a quick movement, the nurse left and Eliza was alone. Too nervous to sit still for even a moment, she paced the small room reading and rereading several posters for cancer detection and menopause symptoms. Thirty minutes later, a sharp knock rattled the door and a tall woman, around Eliza's height with silvering blonde hair strode inside. Her white coat was neatly pressed and monogrammed. Eliza took in her entire presence, taking mental notes.
"Good afternoon, I'm Dr. Dupree," the woman announced, taking a seat on a rolling stool. She looked over to where she expected Eliza to be seated on the table, but she wasn't. "Oh, goodness. Hon, I'm going to need you up here," she patted the exam table.
"I thought we could discuss treatment for a moment," Eliza replied.
Dr. Dupree nodded, "Of course. Tell me, what brings you to see me today."
Eliza's heart thundered in her chest, "I was given your name by Paul Arthur."
She watched as the doctor's face became stone. She slowly closed Eliza's fake chart and took out a notepad. She scribbled quickly across its front page as she spoke.
"I don't do that here," she pulled the paper loose from the pad. "You'll have to come to this address. I have an opening tonight at ten."
Dr. Dupree handed the note to Eliza and stood to leave. Eliza read the address but still had more questions.
"Excuse me?" she said in her most innocent voice. "I don't understand. He told me to see you here."
The doctor turned back, "Yes…to make first contact. But, I can't do the procedure you're needing in this office. He knows that and he should have explained it to you." Dr. Dupree paused, "If I could offer you some friendly advice? Stay away from men like him. They aren't going to marry you and you're not going to have a lifetime of security and cotillions."
Eliza looked at the note in her hand again. What was she saying? Why would she think that she was promised anything? Immediate understanding fell over her like a bucket of ice water but it wasn't cold enough to contain the rage that was beginning to simmer in her core. It was all starting to make sense. Eliza jumped from her seat, pushing her way to the door of the small exam room to block the doctor's exit.
"Miss, meet me there at ten o'clock—"
"I have one more question," Eliza cut her off.
Dr. Dupree's eyes flared, "I will answer your questions later tonight."
"No. You'll answer them now…or I leave this office and tell the front desk and the medical board what you're doing," Eliza snapped boldly.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" the doctor's jaw set.
"Eliza Arthur. Paul Arthur's daughter, " narrowing her glare on the doctor, Eliza watched her take a stumbling step backward. Dr. Dupree raised her hands defensively as if Eliza was getting ready to strike.
"I'm sorry…I didn't know he'd…he'd," the woman gagged. "Oh my God…that's disgusting."
Eliza's face wrinkled in disbelief, "What are you—no! No, I'm not pregnant."
She watched the relief sweep the doctor's face.
"I want to know about this arraignment you have with my dad, though," she ordered.
The doctor shook her head, "I can't. I can't do that…this…this is healthcare. No matter what they say."
"Yes, you will. Or I will make good on my promise, whether I agree with what you're doing or not," growling through clenched teeth, Eliza pointed to the doctor's shoes. "Or are you more worried about losing your meal ticket?” She whistled through her clenched teeth, “Those Louboutin's must have cost a fortune."
Tears welled in Dr. Abigail Dupree's eyes. Both she and Eliza knew this was the end of the road and it didn't matter if they could have been on the same side at one time. Right now, Eliza held all the cards and that hand was a Royal Flush.
"I met Paul years ago. We ran in the same circles and he knew I worked in women's health. He had a girlfriend at the time and he said they made a mistake and needed my help…if I could get her in, he'd pay for the privilege. That's when abortions were legal here," tears streaked down the doctor's aged face, making trails in her foundation. "When this backward ass state followed the Supreme Court, they threw us back to the dark ages."
Dr. Dupree pointed at the note in Eliza's hand, "I had to start doing them in my home. I have a clean room…all the equipment. I make sure all the girls are safe. Believe me, your father isn’t my only client. "
Eliza's heart sank. Abigail Dupree was a woman old enough to have seen the birth of women's healthcare rights and their subsequent death. She really believed what she was doing was right, and Eliza couldn't disagree. It was a tragedy that while men could make any decision under the sun in regard to their own bodies, the other half of society wasn't given the same rights. It made her furious.
“Don’t you see?” Dr. Dupree pleaded. “It’s not about the money…if I stop, where will these girls go when they’re in trouble? What makes me angry is that the more money someone has, the bigger the promises they’re told.”
Eliza patted the doctor on the shoulder, "I'm not here to out you. Your secret is safe with me. But, do me a favor?"
"Sure. If I can," Dr. Dupree dabbed her eyes with a tissue.
"If another woman comes in here saying my Dad sent her…call me," handing the doctor one of her business cards, she nodded. "I'm also tired of wealthy men getting away with what they please."
"I can do that."
Eliza made her way out to the parking garage to find Judas leaning against the door of his Audi. Her mind was reeling with Dr. Dupree's confession but when she saw him, a blanket of peace and comfort fell over her. Judas was her solace and she knew that whatever came of all of this chaos, he would be waiting for her on the other side.
As she drew closer, he stood to meet her, "So? How did it go?"
"I don't think I've been more angry at my father in my entire life," she replied as her phone buzzed in her hand. "Hang on a second. Hi Lydia…"
Judas watched Eliza's eyes grow wide then shrink again into a glare.
"What do you mean he's turned himself in?" she asked in a measured tone then waited, listening. "Tell him not to say a word to anyone. I'm on my way!"
Judas' eyes locked with hers, asking the unspoken question.
"Uncle Chet just confessed to shooting my Dad."