The Calling (9 page)

As they resumed their journey, a pit of sorrow opened in his stomach. “How do you do this every day? I think I’d die of grief after a few weeks of watching these people suffer.”

She turned her eyes on him, her gaze filled with a mixture of compassion and sorrow. “My brother used to be a patient here, before he died two years ago.”

Justin nodded with a new respect for this slight woman. He realized everyone had their burdens, not just him.

“Dr. Miller left this for you.” She handed him a half-inch thick manila envelope.

He took it from her, surprised by the heft of it in his hands. “What’s in it?”

“Details on electroshock therapy.”

Justin stopped mid-step. “You’re kidding me.”

The nursed turned to face him, her face sober and devoid of the joking he longed for. “It’s a last-resort treatment.”

He could hardly speak over the lump in his throat. “And that’s where we are?”

“I’m afraid so. Just read the literature before you say no. The treatment isn’t what it used to be. There’s no pain involved.”

“You think it would help?”

The woman nodded. “I’ve seen it cure patients when nothing else would work.” She sighed deeply. “I’ve also seen it kill a patient with heart problems.”

His mom didn’t have any heart problems that he knew of, at least not of the physical kind. “I’ll read it.” He handed it back to her. “I don’t want Mom to see it. Can you hold it at the front desk for me?”

“Sure.” The nurse stopped in front of Room 332, unlocked the door, and gestured for Justin to enter. “She’s been doing well this week. She even asked to see you.”

“Dad, too?” Hope tinged his voice.

The nurse’s eyes tensed. “No. Just you.”

His shoulders slumped. Dad had loved her, probably still did, but his mother cared for no one except the daughter she’d lost.

The nurse stepped aside, and he walked into the room, his gaze sweeping over the furnishings. It was as desolate as a jail cell with only a few soft decorations–a stuffed dolphin on a smooth metal table where she took her meals, and a colorful blanket covering her bed. The quilt’s patchwork of blues, greens, and reds looked out of place next to the bland walls and floors. Hell, anything cheerful looked out of place around this joint.

On her bedside stand sat a stack of books, mostly mysteries, with a few thrillers thrown in. Once a month, he had a dozen books delivered to her from an online used bookstore. The novels were the only entertainment she had in this godforsaken place, and she devoured them even when she refused food. It gave him satisfaction that he could give her an escape, even if only for a few hours.

His mother sat by the window in a rocking chair. Her jet-black hair was sprinkled with gray strands and hung loose around her shoulders. She turned to face him and, for the first time in years, her cheeks looked rounded, without the usual jagged bones jutting beneath her thin skin. Her glowing complexion filled him with optimism.

“You’ve been eating?” he asked.

“And drinking.” She held up her arm to show him the absence of an IV. Her brown eyes lit up, taking ten years off her age. “Well, don’t just stand there. Come in and sit.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He shut the door and hurried inside, elated that his mother’s mood had lifted. Could something have changed? “You seem different, Mom.”

She rubbed her thin fingers over her bare arms and sighed. “Your dad’s been visiting lately.”

Nothing could subdue the smile that spread across his face. “Really?”

She rested an ornery gaze on him. “I don’t plan to be around much longer. I thought if I looked nice, he’d miss me more.”

He shook his head and closed his eyes. Not one damn thing had changed. “You’re under twenty-four-hour surveillance.” He glanced up at the video camera in the corner of her room. “If you haven’t found a way to die yet, it ain’t happenin’.” Frustrated, he pulled a metal chair across the floor with too much force.

His mom cringed as it scraped the linoleum. When he settled into the seat, she tapped her temple with a pale finger. “I’m getting craftier.”

“Sure, Mom.”

He gazed through the window, his mother’s only connection with the outside world. A parking lot in front of a strip mall filled most of the view, with cars coming and going like bees to a flower. Once they packed their trunks with new clothes, vitamins, or dry-cleaning, they drove home, or maybe to another flower down the street. His mom should be among their numbers. Instead, she sat above them, wilting.

His gaze crossed the top of the buildings toward the horizon where he could just make out the glint of the morning sun on the bay. If only the hospital would let her out for a day trip, he’d take her to the beach. But he knew as well as they did she’d probably try to drown herself. Christ, nineteen years of therapy and she was still as hell-bent on killing herself as the day his sister had died.

He slung his arm over the side of the chair and studied her. Her soft features weren’t as weathered as they should have been for someone who had taken him to the beach almost every day when he was a kid.

“Why do you want to leave me?” he asked.

“To see my Cecelia,” she said, as if it were the most obvious reason in the world.

Her words wounded him as much as any knife. He might love her, but he’d never forgive her for choosing death over him. He took a deep breath, buying time to compose himself. “The nurse said you’ve been asking for me.”

She nodded, still gazing out the window. “We never talk about her.”

Of course, they didn’t talk about her. The last time he’d said Cecelia’s name, his mom had picked up her lunch tray and tried to bash it over his head. After that, the subject of his sister was off-limits, which was fine by him because hearing her name only reminded him of what an eternal fuck-up he was.

As Justin studied his mother, her dim eyes turned into a vibrant molten chocolate, the way he remembered them as a child. “Cecelia’s death wasn’t your fault,” she said.

He winced. “Yes it was, Mom.” His father had entrusted him with Cecelia’s life, and he’d failed.

A gray haze blurred his vision, and he clutched the metal armrests as his nightmare stepped into daylight. His sister crying, his mom furious, the waves crashing around his young frame, and then Cecelia was gone, dead, not even her flesh remained to bury. Christ, he could feel sweat beading on his skin.
Don’t lose it, not here, not in front of Mom
. He took a deep breath in and blew a long breath out. Over and over, he repeated the exercise until the nightmare slowly disintegrated, leaving him in a shell of a room with his mother watching him tentatively.

“I should have believed your father,” she said. “He tried to tell me, but I didn’t listen.”

As his fear and nausea eased, he released his death grip on the chair. “It wasn’t easy to believe.”

She leaned forward, and a dark emotion haunted her eyes. “Promise me one thing before you go.”

“What?”

“Don’t have children with a woman who doesn’t believe in the Calling. Even if it means never being a father.”

He swallowed hard. After watching his mom lose her daughter and religion in one terrifying moment, he’d made that vow to himself a long time ago.

Her eyes narrowed, and her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breathing picking up pace. “Promise me, boy.”

“I promise, Mom.”

She sat back in the chair and began rocking urgently. “Go.”

“But I just got here.” Since he’d been stationed in Corpus Christi, he made the four-hour drive to Galveston twice a month to spend time with her. He always stayed at least two hours, even if they never said a word to each other.

She held her wrists out and scowled at him. “Bring me a knife next time, and I’ll ask you to stay longer.”

Justin’s stomach twisted. What a perfect life he had with a suicidal mom, the death of his sister on his conscience, and a father who hadn’t spoken to him in ten years. Jesus, he was screwed up. He mashed his lips together as he stood and headed toward the door. Though he wanted to give up on her, he never would. Somehow, he’d find a way to help her.

Before he walked outside, he turned to her. “Mom?”

“What?”

“I’ll see you in two weeks.”

With his words hanging in the air unacknowledged, he left, knowing she’d spend the rest of the day planning her suicide.

* * *

Mandy maneuvered the joystick until the claw hovered directly above the white teddy bear with the pink heart-shaped nose. She pushed the
clamp
button and crossed her fingers. “Please, please, please.” The claw descended and snapped shut with the teddy bear’s ear in its jaws. The metal teeth lifted the animal from the sea of plush toys.

Emma squealed. “You did it, Aunt Mandy!” No sooner had the words left her little mouth, than the bear plunged into the far corner of the glass enclosure. “It’s toooo haaard!” Emma exclaimed, her blue eyes filled with tears.

Mandy sighed. “Calm down, honey. We’ll try again.”

Emma nodded, but her mouth pulled down in a frown, and a tear streamed down her cheek. “Okay.”

Mandy snagged the last quarter from her change purse and slipped the coin into the machine. With no more dollars to exchange, she had one final chance to make Emma’s day. She steeled her nerves, positioned the claw just right, and hit
Clamp
.

Emma swiped away her tears, her eyes sparkling with hope.

Mandy held her breath, praying this time she’d get the prize. The metal hand came up with nothing but air.

“Ohhh, nooo,” Emma whimpered.

Mandy shook her head in defeat. “Honey, I’ve spent five dollars trying to win that bear.” She opened her empty change purse for Emma to inspect. “I’m out of quarters. How ‘bout I just buy you a bear at the store?”

Emma’s chin trembled. “I want
that
bear.”

Mandy wiped a tear from Emma’s cheek. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry.”

“Do you need some help, ma’am?” Justin’s voice carried over the noisy din of the restaurant.

She whirled to face him, her stomach fluttering like a butterfly. “What are you doing here?”

Justin chuckled. “Don’t act too excited to see me.”

Was he kidding? Now that he was standing in front of her, she felt like a missing piece of her heart had just locked into place. Not to mention that, over the weekend, she’d thought about him nonstop, which was a blessing since it kept her from obsessing over her screening on Tuesday.

What was wrong with her? She shouldn’t want him so badly when her life was upside down, but she couldn’t control her emotions any more than she could control her diagnosis. Oh, well. At least the obsession made her feel alive.

She brushed her bangs out of her eyes and tried to play it cool, though he looked dang sexy in his flight gear. “Sorry, you just surprised me.”

He pointed over his shoulder at the buffet. “Me and the boys had training all day and came in for pizza and beer.”

She glanced around him and immediately caught sight of Ty. He glowered in their direction as he filled his plate with breadsticks. “Ty’s staring at us.”

Justin shrugged. “So?” He leaned down to Mandy’s ear. “What happened to you Friday morning? I woke up, and you were gone.”

The closer Justin inched, the brighter Ty’s cheeks flushed. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he was jealous.
Focus
. Justin had just asked her a question.

“You could have called,” she replied, attempting to appease his inquisitive eyes without actually answering.

“I’m trying not to crowd you.” He tilted his head, and his gaze darkened. “Now, answer my question, please.”

Ty’s eyes boring a hole in her were making it impossible to concentrate. Mandy lined up with Justin so she couldn’t see Ty anymore and searched for a plausible excuse that didn’t involve mammogram results. Nothing came to mind. She guessed she’d have to tell him the truth.

“What about my bear?” Emma demanded.

Mandy patted her niece’s blond head appreciatively. She’d have to thank her for interrupting later with a lollypop. Relieved for the change of subject, she tilted her head toward the game. “I’ve spent more than that stuffed animal’s worth trying to retrieve it.”

Justin threw Emma a crooked grin. “Mind if I try? I’ve even got a quarter.”

Mandy cocked an eyebrow.
Fat chance
. “It’s gonna take more than a quarter.”

“We’ll see.”

He fumbled around in his pocket and brought out a coin. He moseyed up to the game as if he owned the thing, popped the quarter in, and went straight for a white bunny. He hit the
clamp
button, picked up a bunny, and dumped it into the deposit bin.

With a cocky grin, he turned around. “Admit it, you’re impressed.” He reached down and grabbed the toy out of the chute. When he held it out to Emma, she crossed her arms over her little chest and pouted. Justin scratched his head. “You change your mind?”