Chapter Twenty-one
At the sound of her mother’s designated ringtone, Ellie rested the paintbrush on the edge of her palette and fished her phone from her back pocket. She swiped her thumb across the screen and lifted the phone to her ear. “Hi, Mom.”
“Ellie, honey, I have some bad news,” her mother said instead of a hello.
Since bad news typically dealt with things like a pair of pants coming back from the laundry with bleach stains or an elderly resident of her facility passing away, she didn’t instantly switch into worry. “Oh, no. What is it?”
“It’s your dad. He was on his way here to pick me up and he hit a patch of ice and his car was involved in a head-on collision.” Her voice pitched with each additional detail.
“Mom, Mom. Calm down. Take a deep breath. It’s okay.”
“He died, Ellie. Your father is dead.” Donna practically yelled the last bit, and her sobs came through with wrenching clarity.
Ellie squeezed her eyes shut, remembering all too clearly the day her father actually died.
He’d already left, and she resented him enough at the time that their required visitation was a chore she did under vocal duress.
She’d done enough therapy that the guilt and regret she’d experienced in the aftermath didn’t haunt her on a daily basis.
But this? This brought it all crashing back, but with the added panic that her mother’s delusions had given way to a full-blown psychotic break.
“Mom, we’re going to figure it out. It’s going to be okay. ”
Her mom continued to cry, giving Ellie’s mind a moment to race in a variety of directions.
Her first instinct, obviously, was to remind Donna that Bill had died years ago.
That they’d mourned him and, in whatever ways possible, moved on.
But when Donna was in the clutches of a full episode, trying to reason with her, much less correct her, often only served to fuel the paranoia that accompanied her loss of touch with reality.
“Okay, what do you need right now? Do you need me to come over? I can be there in a couple of hours.”
“Betty Parker said she’d call the prayer line.
Do you think you’ll be able to make it to the funeral?
Calling hours are going to be from five until eight on Monday and the Mass will be Tuesday morning at nine.
I think I’m going to wear my navy-blue dress since I don’t have a black one, and blue was Bill’s favorite color. ”
Ellie sucked in a breath and blew it out slowly.
She’d been through this at least a dozen times in her life, with six of those times being in what she considered her adulthood.
But it struck her every single time the way her mother’s mind could weave together fact and fiction, hold almost microscopic details of her lived experience while its tether to reality strained.
“That sounds nice. I’m sure he would have loved that. ”
“I’ll have to tell the kitchen that I won’t be here for dinner so they don’t make a plate for me and it ends up going to waste.”
She almost laughed at the level of consideration, even as her mind ran through the interventions that would need to happen as soon as she ended the call.
“Don’t you worry about that. I’m sure they know.
You just focus on taking care of you. We need to make sure you stay well with all this going on.
Maybe say a rosary and try to lie down for a little while? ”
“Okay, honey. I am a little tired. I only had one cup of coffee this morning because my roommate Mary needed me to help her put her laundry away and I got to the dining room late.”
“Now, you know the staff is there to help her with that. You shouldn’t feel like it’s your responsibility to take care of her.” Especially since some of Mary’s paranoia manifested as the belief that people were stealing her things, and she didn’t hesitate to yell first and ask questions later.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize. I’m just reminding you not to worry about things you don’t need to worry about.” And inadvertently create a brouhaha that required staff intervention.
“Do you think you’d like to go out to lunch this weekend? I’ve been craving shepherd’s pie.”
She had no idea whether her mother would be in any state to go out come the weekend. But the question implied that the hallucination that began their conversation might have waned, at least for the moment. “That sounds like fun, especially now that the snow finally seems to be done. I’d love that.”
“You should invite Jack, that nice man you said you’ve been seeing. We could all go, and it could be my treat.” Her mom’s voice was almost back to normal, the excitement of an outing and meeting a new person overcoming the anguish of only a few moments before.
“I’ll see if he’s free.” She had no intention of letting those worlds collide just yet, but that was a fact she’d keep to herself.
And she would want her mom to meet Jack eventually, of course.
She just needed it to be when she could manage both sides of the situation and make sure everything went smoothly.
“Okay. Well, it’s almost time for bingo, so let me let you go.”
“I hope you win.”
“Me, too. Bye, honey.”
“Bye, Mom.”
The line went silent. Once again, Ellie sucked in a breath and blew it out slowly.
She tried to focus on the relief of averting a complete spiral, but the gnawing knowledge that things likely wouldn’t resolve themselves remained front and center.
Her own feelings—the lingering sadness about her father’s death, the anxiety spike from her mom’s brush with hysteria, and the nagging guilt that these episodes might be avoided if she was somehow more present in her mom’s life—got boxed up and set to the side.
She’d have to deal with them, of course, but that’s what her therapist was for.
She pulled up the number for the social worker at her mom’s facility.
In a matter of minutes, they’d activated a care plan that included close monitoring, a visit with the consulting psychiatrist, and authorization to transport Donna to the hospital if the situation worsened.
It was a comfort to have a team of qualified and caring people at the ready, even if it made her feel less like she was in the driver’s seat.
“Let’s try to minimize excitement,” Lily said. “Why don’t you plan to visit her later tomorrow or Sunday?”
Ellie paced the length of the study, still clutching her palette and brush.
Her instinct was to go over as soon as she could get herself cleaned up, but Lily was right.
Besides, that plan would mean she didn’t have to cancel on Jack.
Lord knew she could use the distraction of good company and even better sex.
With her brain already in high gear, it didn’t take long to formulate a plan. She’d make dinner for Jack, as promised. But she’d give him that little show she’d promised for all his help getting her moved in. It would be perfect. Then she could send him home happy and deal with everything else.
* * *
Jack should have known better than to think having one aspect of his life going great meant the good vibes would simply rub off on everything else.
What a day. Everything that could have gone wrong had.
Flat tire on his way to a job, wrong materials ordered when he finally got there.
And after going to the trouble of making a nice salad for lunch with the chicken he’d grilled up for the week, he forgot it on the kitchen counter.
Which meant the salad was trash and lunch consisted of gas station pizza.
Not that gas station pizza didn’t have its place, but it was the principle.
On the drive over to Ellie’s, he put the windows down and blared the radio, hoping to clear his head and reset his mood.
What he got was a bug in his mouth and the knowledge that a country music star he already disliked was rocking the airwaves with a blatantly racist anthem masquerading as a tribute to Americana.
He arrived at Ellie’s even crankier than when he’d started out.
Hopefully, she’d take pity, feed him, and put him to bed early.
Jack knocked lightly but didn’t wait for Ellie to come to the door.
Inside, he hung his keys and pulled off his boots.
But he only made it a step further before stopping.
He hesitated, then scanned the room. The coffee table was gone, and the ottoman had been pushed to a far corner.
Weird. “Are you rearranging already?” he asked in lieu of a hello.
Ellie emerged from the kitchen, dressed to the nines. “Only temporarily.”
“Shit. Do we have plans I forgot about?” Jack drank her in, even as his mind scrambled.
The black wrap dress was cut low, and her hair was all pulled up in some sort of twist, leaving her neck exposed.
Even across the room, he could tell the heels made her as tall as him.
And even though he knew they were uncomfortable and impractical, the things they did to her calves made his mouth water.
“None that require leaving the house,” she said with a smile.
Confusion replaced panic, but both gave way to a heady mix of understanding and lust. “You’re going to strip for me.”
Ellie sashayed across the room. “I was planning to. Assuming you’re still interested, of course.”
Interested. Such a woefully inadequate word. Even in his current funk, he’d have to be dead not to be interested in what Ellie was offering. “Oh, I’m interested.”
“Something’s wrong, though.” Her eyes narrowed and she took his hand. “I can tell.”
“Just a bad day,” he said perhaps a little too quickly.
“Bad how?”
“A million minor annoyances. Nothing big, I promise. And this?” He swept his finger up and down to indicate her. “This is making that a distant memory.”
Ellie studied him for a good five or six seconds. Like she was scanning to see if his words matched his aura. Eventually, she nodded. “I can take a raincheck if you’d prefer. I know it can be hard to shake off that sort of thing.”