Beginning, Section II, Next Section
Charles was having the most interesting conversation on the front porch with one of Elizabeth's cousins. Frederick was a Sculptor by profession and taught part-time at the Chicago Art Institute. His was an amazing story of triumph over tragedy and the longer the man spoke; the more Charles admired his personal courage. They were discussing his latest project when Jane's voice pierced the night air.
"Cousin Freddie! I did not know you were coming tonight!" She rushed over to the man, stopping right in front of him. Gently she took his hand in hers and gave him a peck on the cheek.
"Cousin Jane. I have missed you." He hugged her back with his free hand. "You didn't call me and let me know your arrival date."
"The movers were able to up my date, so I left a week early. How are you? I don't think we have spoken in two months." Over the last hour and a half since she had been at the party, Jane had relaxed somewhat.
Frederick had not always been her favorite relative, but ever since his accident, they began keeping in contact with each other. They would call each other once a month and talk for a good hour. The artistic ability that ran on her mother's side of the family had skipped Jane but blessed Frederick in spades.
"First off, did you notice that the back brace is gone?" Frederick twisted slightly to show her.
"The doctor did take it off. You must feel so much better now that you are not lugging around the weight of it."
"I am." He adjusted his grip on his cane. "Now if I can only get these leg braces off, I'll be able to move faster."
"It will happen, dear, have patience." Jane warmly placed her hand on his arm.
"I was telling Charles about what project I am to start next. All I need is a model. Would you be interested? The pay is poor and the hours long, but I'll keep you entertained with dull stories and lame jokes."
Jane had not seen Charles standing at the corner of the porch. She gave him a brief wave.
"I don't know, Frederick. I'm going to be looking for a job sometime in the near future and my father is returning home soon." Jane was not intrigued by the notion of modeling, even for Frederick.
"Well, think about it before you say no. It is going to be one of a series of pillars I am doing for a new building downtown."
"I'll think about it. If it is a nude the answer is 'no way.'"
"They are not nudes but beautiful women with their arms stretched up toward the Heavens. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go inside and find the restroom. I'll be back out later and we'll catch up."
Jane handed her cousin his second cane that was leaning against the house and moved out of his way. The happiness she was showing slowly faded as she watched him struggle to get over the doorway and into the house.
"Your cousin a fascinating man." Charles said quietly. "I don't know if I have ever met anyone who has bounced back from what he did."
"He is" she responded without looking at him, "but is has been a long, hard journey for him. Physically, he may never fully recover."
"I think everyone has a long journey that they travel in life, but some are harder than others."
Jane was still for a moment before she said anything.
"How long have you known William?" Still not facing him, she was curious as to what Charles would tell her.
"Since I was eight." Charles had noticed her scrutinizing William when they were in the kitchen with Elizabeth.
"What is he like?" Jane kept her voice flat and unemotional.
"He comes from a good family. Both of his parents are deceased and he has a younger sister he has taken excellent care of. I would say William is an honest, hard-working man who has often shown intense loyalties to the people he cares for. He loves your sister, of that I am certain."
Jane did not answer him.
"I'm going to take a walk around the block to stretch my legs. Would you join me, Jane? We will not be gone long."
"I'm not looking for a date." Jane used her truthful, foolproof line on him hoping to dissuade him from getting any ideas.
"I am not either."
Jane turned to face him, slightly amused. Charles looked harmless, and he was kind enough to answer her question. A walk would also give her an excuse to escape the hoard of people inside the house.
"Okay."
Side by side they walked down the steps and onto the path leading to the sidewalk. The block was actually longer than most city blocks, but neither suggested they cut their walk short as they turned the first corner. Against his better judgment, Charles had been quietly analyzing her all night. It had taken him three years to learn how to control the instinct to continually dissect people's actions. Now he was to a point where he could halt himself from playing the part of Dr. Bingley and just enjoy himself in social situations. But Jane had thrown him for a loop. Even if she had not resembled Tanya, he still would have seen the warning signs as soon as he met her. This is what he was trained to do. The way she stepped back when people got too close to her, and how she would leave the group of people she was with when it became too big. The strongest signal he observed was how sadness would cover her features when she thought no one was looking. It reflected her natural state of mind.
Jane's conduct with her sisters and mother caught his attention because it was the first time all night she had shown any real animation, although it was brief. The healing properties a loving family could offer often aided a person in need of understanding and help, and Jane's family seemed sound. Granted, her mother acted a little flighty, but at the same time she would affectionately pat her daughters whenever they were near. Yes, he was convinced Mrs. Bennet loved her girls, but Elizabeth and Mary would likely be better candidates for Jane to turn to. They both spoke with intelligence, and to a differing degree-love. Elizabeth was more open in expressing the emotion, but Mary had a stillness about her that alerted him to think of her as strong.
The Frederick and Jane connection was obvious. Charles only had to talk to the man for a minute before he could detect extreme loneliness and possible heartbreak that did not stem from the terrible accident he was in. Twice Frederick looked away while he mentioned the model no longer working with him, and breaking eye contact told Charles a great deal. The old adage 'Misery loves company' came to his mind as he watched the two cousins interact and their shared bond appeared to be one of a deep, personal nature. He wondered if Jane had possibly been the victim of a bad relationship.
Charles stopped walking.
What are you doing, man! He scolded himself. You don't even know this woman and you already think you may have a diagnosis. Helping her is not going to bring Tanya back…or cure your own guilt.
"Charles? Are you all right?" Jane was several paces in front of him. She was considering what he had told her about William and did not notice his absence right away.
"I'm fine." He looked at her. "I was just thinking too much."
"I do that too."
"Silence is the breeding ground for obsessive thought." Giving her a grin, Charles walked up to where she was.
"Did you just make that up?" Jane raised her eyebrows.
"Yes," he admitted slyly.
"I thought so." She returned his grin. "May I ask you a question?"
"Sure." His face became serious.
"Did I appear rude when I met William?" The question was a simple one.
"I really don't think so. Why, do you think you were rude?"
"I don't know." They started to walk again.
"Jane, are you concerned about Elizabeth?" Now that she was talking, he did not want to lapse back into silence.
"No, not really anymore. I just don't want her to be…" She was giving this stranger too much information. "It is an older sister thing, that's all. Please don't mention this to anyone."
"I won't." Charles was about to go out on a limb. "May I ask you a question?"
"Maybe. What is it?" Once again they stopped and faced each other.
"Jane," for a second he hesitated, "are you depressed?"
Jane's face went pale as the blood rushed from her head. Who does this man think he is? Glaring at him, she gave him an answer.
"I find that question offensive and way out of line! Why is it that you people always think you know what is going on inside someone's head? Let me guess, you have a solution for me too." Jane's anger could not be contained. "Go choke on your own vanity, Dr. Bingley."
With that, Jane stormed off in the direction of the house.
"Wait, Jane!" She wouldn't stop so Charles ran after her and stood in her way. "I did not mean to offend you. Please, I'm sorry I crossed the line. I can't believe I asked you that myself." Actually, he was devastated. Four words were all it took for her to completely shut him out. He knew better than to say something that stupid to a person!
"I don't need a shrink picking apart my brain, so just move out of my way." He stood firm forcing Jane walk around him to get by.
Charles knew there would be no more conversation between them tonight—he had blown it.
"Jane, I'm sorry." He called out at her as she reached the corner.
"Leave me alone." Was her only response.
Charles noticed the light on and knocked lightly on the half-opened door of his grandmother's bedroom. Lillian had not been sleeping well lately.
"Dr. Bingley." A young nurse opened the door. "Lillian was hoping you would stop in before you retired for the night. She is wide awake and in need of some conversation."
"Has she slept at all tonight?" He asked in a lowered voice. Insomnia was one of the symptoms of his grandmother's illness, but he knew that soon this stage would pass and she would be sleeping more as time went by.
"On and off. Lillian had some visitors tonight after you left and was quite frisky afterward. She is in the restroom right now. I will go check on her."
"Thank you, Carol." Charles went to his usual bedside chair to wait for her to return. Lillian was reading 'The Doll' and was not that far into the thick book. He read a few lines.
"Reading some Prus Boleslaw would be a good for you, wnuczek." Lillian commented as she held onto the nurse's arm while crossing the room. Charles rose and took over for Carol in assisting his grandmother to bed.
"I read 'The Sins of Childhood' just three months ago and a little of Mr. Boleslaw goes a long way." Charles answered her lightly. Lillian loved her Polish literature, preferring to read in the native tongue it was written in.
"I will pass along this book after I have finished it," she said as Charles helped her onto her bed. "It is about a man infatuated with a woman of higher birth, but he faces unrequited love."
"Sounds uplifting." He teased her as he straightened her covers. "Carol told me that you had visitors tonight. Anyone I may know?"
"Carol," Lillian turned to her night nurse, "if you would like to take a break, Charles is here. I had the cook leave you a meal in the kitchen. Why not take an half hour to yourself?"
"Thank you, Mrs. Bingley."
"Charles, do you remember the Morgan sisters?' He nodded that he did. "They stopped by to do their ritual mourning at my bedside. I do believe the youngest sister Grace was rather put out that I was not closer to death. She looked downright disappointed when she left." Chuckling, Lillian gave him a loving pat on the arm. Lillian knew what 'death' represented to Charles, and making light of it was something she strived to do.
"Babcia!" (Grandmother!)
"Oh, I put on a show for them by pretending that nothing was wrong. Carol hid in my sitting room and I had a bottle of whiskey out by the bed." Lillian's laugh turned into a cough and she had to stop for a moment to clear her lungs. Charles demeanor remained amused but his grip on the arm of the chair tightened as the coughing fit wracked her body. His grandmother had always taken such good care of him, healing him when he was ill and loving him when he was alone. A younger Charles had vowed that when he became a man he would do the same for her, but…
Lillian Janick-Bingley had been such a robust woman in her day, but now the cancer had reduced her to a little thin shell. There was one thing the cancer could not touch--her spirit. Lillian was and always would be an intelligent, capable, brave woman whose insight and love for her family had brought the Bingley/Janick side of Charles's lineage to prosperous heights.
In 1938, at the tender age of 18, Lillian's parents did what many at the time considered 'the unthinkable'. Lech and Ewa Janick made it possible for their only child to leave the Polish Motherland and obtain passage on a ship headed for America--alone.
Over two years later a young Welsh man caught her attention. Gregory Bingley was a year younger than she was and different from any man she had ever met. He was a dreamer and a philosopher, a man who preferred reading to playing cards. Lillian loved his peaceful nature, and although he did not seem to possess the drive to succeed that so many other young ladies looked for in a man, Lillian knew she had enough for the both of them. Four months later they were married in a small Catholic ceremony, and it was a marriage made in Heaven.
Together they used the money Lillian's parent had given her and bought two dairy farms three hours south of Chicago. Lillian worked day and night and the farms thrived. It was not long until their operations doubled, then tripled. Three children were born during this time, two sons and a daughter. The eldest, Edward died of pneumonia at the age of four. Their daughter Ewa was born with a heart defect and lived only a few days after her birth. The youngest, Jonathan, was the only surviving child.
The years passed, the farms were sold, and the family built a fortune that was properly invested in industry. They moved back to the Chicago area in the 1950's and bought the Nathan G. Moore home in Oak Park. Gregory had always wanted a Frank Lloyd Wright home of his own, and when the house next to it came up for sale, they purchased it for Jonathan. Life was very good to them during these years, and it was not until Jonathan's untimely death that reality bore down on the Bingley family once again.
Jonathan had left behind a widow and three children.
Louisa, Caroline, and Charles Bingley no longer had a father, and the widow Susan Bingley was never the same.
Chapter 4
Friday
November 13 1998
Impressions and Dreams
Jane looked at her watch as she stood by her mailbox.
10:16p.m.
He's up. Lord, I know that night owl neighbor of mine is up.
She picked up her garment bag and went to Chris's door. Both of her hands were full so she knocked loudly with her high-healed shoe. Chris answered the door after her second try. He immediately began to apologize when he saw who it was.
"I'm sorry Ma'…Jane." He stumbled. "I will turn the music down."
"No, no. I'm not here for that. The postman put a letter of yours in my box. It's on top of this pile in my hand. Can you just take it? I have a balancing act going on here."
His eyes lit up when he saw whom it was from. "Thank you Jane, I was hoping this would come today!"
"Pictures?" She had felt them through the envelope.
Chris bobbed his head up and down while grinning from ear to ear.
"I'm glad you're happy." Jane looked down as she got ready to leave. A deep frown creased her forehead as she looked inside Chris's doorway.
"You have nice carpeting!"
"Yes, Ma'am." He said a little guiltily. "But, I bought it myself."
"I did not know we could do that. Dang it!" Jane was not happy.
"Did you get stuck with the old stuff? Brown or gold?"
"Brown…dirt brown." Her eyes traveled further into the young man's apartment. To her surprise, it was coordinated in hues of blue and gray, and was quite nice and organized. Some of the pieces of furniture visible she recognized from home magazines she had read in the past. The steel-blue carpeting was offset perfectly by the silver walls and navy accents. Jane had pictured his apartment in her mind after meeting him for the first time. Basing her predictions on his physical appearance, she assumed it would be a pig sty of mismatched furniture, milk crates, and dirty plates lying about as if the were pieces of art.
In fact, Jane had already bought a can of bug spray in anticipation of the exodus his pet roaches would make once they realized there was fresh blood upstairs.
Chris watched her inspecting his place and it made him nervous. He wasn't really sure what he should do. Invite her in or get her to leave as quickly as possible before she had him scrubbing his toilet because it wasn't clean enough? She doesn't look angry with me.
"Would…you like to…come in? He was stuttering again. There was just something about Jane that intimidated him.
"No, that is all right," she answered softly. "You have a very nice apartment, Chris. It is nothing like what I had expected…" Jane stopped herself, trying to formulate her compliment properly. "…From a young bachelor."
"Thank you. I noticed the movers taking some Mission Oak pieces up to your apartment." He was calming down as he thought that maybe she wasn't as stern as he had once believed. "I have never seen anything like them before."
"They are by the designer Carl Kent. I had them custom made for my last house."
"Oh. I know of the man. He is very talented."
A lovely aroma was wafting from the apartment. Jane recognized the smell.
"What are you cooking?"
"Gumbo. The gourmet grocery store on Harlem Avenue had a shipment of fresh crawdads yesterday so I made up a batch to go with them."
Jane gave him a small smile. He wouldn't be such a bad neighbor after all.
"Well, I'm heading up. Good-night, Chris."
"Thank you for bring me my mail."
"It was no problem. Have a nice evening."
As soon as she was in her own apartment, Jane dropped everything she was carrying on the couch. She would put it away tomorrow because tonight she was just too blasted tired to care. There was one thing she did want out of her bag though, and it was easily located. The closing papers on her former house.
Eric was in court yesterday and unable to come to the last piece of business from their dissolved marriage. The buyers were so happy, sitting close and smiling at each other as everyone signed the mountain of papers releasing the house from Jane and Eric Homman to Anna and Jason McCoy. The lawyer who drew up the papers did not know that Jane had went back to her maiden name after the divorce, so she had to sign 'Jane Homman' on every legal document put in front of her.
One bright spot of her trip back down to Champaign was seeing her old friends from work. She went out to dinner with three of them before she left for Chicago tonight, and it was nice being 'one of the girls'.
Jane looked at her paperwork for a few minutes, and then went straight to the bathroom to remove her makeup and get ready for bed. In a strange way, she was disappointed not seeing Eric at the closing. The frustration she had at not being able to vent some of her anger was muted by the fact that she had half of the money from the sale of the house. Now her nest egg was larger and as soon as she paid off her lawyers, she would know exactly where she stood financially.
Crawling into bed, Jane prepared herself for a long rest by pulling the covers up around her chin. A few tears stung her eyes when she realized that there were no more reasons for her to return to Champaign, and that this was probably one of the last times she would see her friends. They would soon forget her and she would forget them in time. Jane closed her eyes tight so the light from the bathroom would not keep her awake.
Jane found herself in an old, vacant auditorium. The walls had pealing wallpaper hanging off of them, but she got the impression that it was not the building that was important but what was about to happen in it.There were no seats in the large room, only a draped stage far in the distance. Jane walked down the center isle of the room to get a closer look at what was in front of her. When she was about twenty feet away, the curtains were drawn up to expose the performance that was about to begin. Jane stood riveted to where she was standing as her eyes revealed a situation causing her to cry out in her sleep.
A balance beam was positioned in the middle of the stage, and Elizabeth stood atop of it. She was wearing a long cotton nightgown in the color of white and Jane instantly saw a problem.
"Lizzy, be careful of your gown. It is too long and you may trip and fall."
Elizabeth waved off her warning with the flick of her wrist and did a curt bow indicating the show was about to start. In a blink of an eye, Props appeared out of thin air and the room darkened except for a wide spotlight focused on her sister.
Chills ran up her body as Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at her in a commutative fashion. Jane could read her thoughts and understood what she was asking her.
"I am paying attention," Jane replied as the familiar burning sensation started on the back of her head. This was her own personal indication that the dream she was now living was a premonition. She mentally focused on every detail knowing they each had a meaning.
Elizabeth nodded once in her direction and started to move along the beam. She had a glass pitcher in her left hand that was filled to the top with cloudy water. Ever so careful, Elizabeth raised the pitcher and slowly poured the water out of it. The water evaporated before it could touch the stage.
A series of round clocks without hands traveled from left to right behind Elizabeth's body and Jane noticed that the longer the act went on, the more speed they picked up until they were nothing but a blur of a streaked image. This image was easy for Jane to interpret. The clocks represented time, and the missing hands meant that a timeframe was not going to be given to her. The speed of their movement gave her a strong warning though, as if time was running out.
Next, Jane's eyes focused on a red glow coming from within her sister's abdomen. The deep crimson color was showing through her thin gown, casting its light outward. The intensity of the light did not change, but remained steady and observable. Completely baffled by its significance, Jane stared as if she was hypnotized for an indeterminable amount of time. It wasn't until her sister spun around did her eyes move back up to Elizabeth's face.
When Elizabeth was first shown on the stage she looked normal, but fear filled Jane's being as she looked at her now. Something was wrong. Elizabeth's complexion became paler with each passing second, highlighting the dark circles under her eyes. Her cheeks were getting thinner and she looked like she could barely hold onto the pitcher still in her hand. Jane looked at the water; it was ¾ of the way gone.
Her vision moved back and forth from the water and Elizabeth's face. With every drop that fell from the pitcher, Elizabeth became weaker. She no long moved on the balance beam, but hunched over and carefully put one foot in front of the other as she attempted to walk across it.
"Lizzy! Stop pouring out the water!" She screamed. There was a connection made although Jane did not understand why. Elizabeth did not respond.
The clocks were traveling so furiously that they were causing her sister's gown to billow, but not enough to throw her off balance. The red glow did not falter as the water fell; neither did the burning sensation at the back of Jane's head.
Jane let out a wail when she saw the last bit of water being emptied out. Elizabeth looked at her with a helpless expression as the pitcher fell from her hand. Jane could hear the glass shattering in the background as she watched Elizabeth lay down on the beam. During this time the clocks had disappeared, leaving behind a faint sound closely related to a chime going off.
Elizabeth closed her eyes as her head rested on the wood and a moment later the red glow in her abdomen ceased.
The fading spotlight told Jane the performance was over even though the curtains remained open. Jane knew she had to wake herself up. She ran from the auditorium in a mad dash.
Sitting straight up in bed, Jane shook herself violently. She did not waste any time as she grabbed the phone and dialed Elizabeth's number. The clock on her nightstand said 12:01 a.m.
William could not sleep and was up going over some paperwork he had brought home from his office. The phone ringing startled him out of his concentration and he answered immediately so it would not wake up Elizabeth.
"Hello?" He said briskly, wondering who would call at this time of night.
"William, this is Jane. May I please speak to Elizabeth? It is important." Her voice was vehement, but she spoke at a normal rate.
"Jane, she is asleep. She has had the flu for the past three days and tonight is the first time she has been able to sleep well. Is there anything I can help you with?"
"How ill is she?" Jane needed to control her fear while she got the facts from him. She didn't want to panic William unless it was truly necessary.
"Pretty ill. Her doctor sent his nurse over late this afternoon to check on her. She checked her blood and gave Elizabeth a shot for the nausea. She has been asleep ever since."
Nausea…dehydrated? Cloudy water evaporating? Running out of water.
"Did the nurse leave you any instructions?"
"Your mother was here at the time because I had to run downtown to attend a meeting. Rose told me to give her clear fluids, but said nothing else." Jane's tone was worrying him and William felt the need to go check on Elizabeth. He had been letting her sleep quietly all night believing it was best for her.
Jane closed her eyes and pictured Elizabeth from her dream. Red womb…Red womb Jane was still not sure of the significance of it.
Wait…
"William, is there any chance that Elizabeth is pregnant?" Her words were rushed. She could not imagine what else it could be.
"Um…no. She is on her…"
"She is menstruating right now?" Jane wasn't going to wait for him to politely find a way to say 'period.'
"Yes! Jane, what is it?" William stood up with the cordless phone, heading for the stairs when he heard Jane say 'damn'.
"Listen closely to me. When a diabetic gets the flu, it can lower their sugar level. Menstruation does the same thing and if she is dehydrated…go check on her, but take the phone so I can talk to you." The sound of William rushing up the stairs was heard by her end on the line.
Jane listened as William talked to Elizabeth, trying to wake her. She could tell he was having no luck.
"William." He did not answer so she yelled his name. "WILLIAM!"
"Jane, I can't wake her!" Fear was gripping William as his pulse began to race. He had never before seen anyone in the condition Elizabeth was in. Questions and possibilities began to flood his mind.
"Go turn on the light. I want you to check her pupils. Tell me if they respond to the light." Her voice was calm and strong. She knew she needed to keep William's mind working because time was of the essence.
William did as she instructed, raising Elizabeth's eyelids. She squinted her eyes back shut.
"Elizabeth...Liz, I need you to talk to me." He gently shook her but she did not respond.
"Jane, she can't seem to wake up but she did respond to light. Is this good?"
"Check her sugar level." She shot back.
William went into the bathroom and retrieved her monitor. "I have never done this," he admitted.
"It's easy. Turn it on."
"Okay."
"Put her finger in it until the tip is over the needle and push the button. I am going to assume there is a clean pad in it." Jane was pulling instructions from her memory, but there were just some things that a person doesn't forget.
"It looks clean." William followed her directions and pushed the button. The sound made his hand jerk and Jane heard him swearing.
"What happened?"
"I think I cut her. Can I take it off now?"
"Yes. While we are waiting..." William was talking to Elizabeth, apologizing over and over to her.
"William! Is she awake?"
"No, I cut her finger with the needle."
"Don't worry about it now. Are you listening?" Her patience was wearing thin; they could put a Band-Aid on Elizabeth later. Jane had to get William prepared to move quickly.
"Yes."
"How close is the nearest hospital?"
"Um…" William cleared his thoughts. "Four or five blocks away."
"What is the name?"
"It's something easy…Hinsdale Hospital!"
"It will be faster for you to drive her so get ready. I'll call the hospital for you, but I want the blood reading first. Go get yourself ready and listen for the timer."
William grabbed his wallet and keys off of the dresser and put them in the pocket of his sweats. He was slipping on his shoes when the monitor went off.
"49."
"GO! Take her to the emergency room. I'll let them know you are coming." Jane hung up the phone and called directory assistance. One minute later she was on the line with the nurse who answered the phone. Jane wasted no time.
"We have a 28 year old female type-1 diabetic coming in. Her blood sugar level is at 49-which is in her danger zone. She has had the flu for three days, was given an unknown shot for nausea today, she responds to light but she does not respond to sound. Her name is Elizabeth Bennet and she is being driven in."
"Has she been given a glucose tablet?"
"No."
"When was her last insulin shot?"
"I do not know. Her mother was with her today, and I would assume she would have taken care of her injection for her."
"Who is her doctor?"
"I don't know."
"Does she have medical insurance?" The nurse's question made Jane angry. She knew they had to ask it, but right now she did not give a flip about hospital policy.
"Yes," she replied shortly, "John Deere Health Alliance. I do not have her number."
The nurse alerted the staff about Elizabeth's impending arrival while she stayed on the phone. Jane heard her quickly pick the receiver back up after she identified a woman being brought in as Elizabeth Bennet.
"She is here. Thank you."
Jane hung up the phone and dressed to go to Hinsdale. For a minute she wondered if she should call her mother, but decided against it. After she got to the hospital, she would know if she should make the call or not.
Chapter 5
Saturday
November 14 1998
Sometimes, One Day Can Make A Difference.
Jane had been sitting in the waiting room of Hinsdale Hospital for close to two hours. To keep herself occupied while she waited for news on Elizabeth, she had wandered around looking for code violations. She spotted a few, but none were too severe. This activity occupied her mind only in spurts and the rest of the time she relived the visions she had had a few hours before in her dream.
Dreams--strange dreams were nothing new to her. They had been happening for so many years that she had forgotten most of them, and she had learned to live with her gift (?). The dream of Elizabeth was clearer than most, but Jane assumed it was because of the urgency of the message. Usually she was given theoretical images clustered together that required serious attention to be able to interpret. Most were left never solved.
No matter what the Priest had told her when she was thirteen; she did not believe they were wrong or sinful. Nor could she view them as a curse, they just were. Jane knew that for one clear dream like she had last night, it was worth a lifetime of confusing ones. And she had given a prayer of thankfulness to God for it.
Jane stood up when she saw William come through the swinging doors that divided the waiting room from the treatment area. He looked frustrated and weary.
"Jane, I hope you haven't been here waiting long. I was just told you were here."
"Not a surprise," she spoke from experience. "How is she?"
"She is going to be fine, but weak for a while. We're going to have to monitor her closely until her numbers level out. Elizabeth is awake and they are pumping her full of fluids right now. The doctor was able to get her sugar level stabilized without much trouble. You can go back and see her if you want, but I will give you fair warning. Elizabeth was not happy to wake up in a hospital and is already telling who ever will listen that she wants to go home."
"Lizzy use to do that when she was younger, too. You look tired. Let's sit."
William and Jane both slumped down in chairs next to each other.
"The doctor is going to release her. Elizabeth is responsive, and he said there was no reason to keep her for any real length of time. I disagree, but…" He had been defeated in his wishes. If William had his way, she would be staying for at least the day just to be certain she was stable.
For the first time since they had been introduced, Jane really looked at William. Not just with her eyes, but without her blinding prejudice against his being a possible male threat against her sister. She was aware she had unjustly assumed the worst about William since the first time she heard Elizabeth mentioned his name.
In actuality, he had already shown her that he was a good, decent person. Anyone who could withstand a barrage of her relatives at a party and still keep a smile on their face was pretty dang committed. Also, the way he was constantly touching her sister, and looking directly at her when she spoke showed a real interest. The deep concern etched on his face as he sat next to her made Jane ashamed at how she had treated him last week. Maybe Elizabeth had found someone who would love her in the way she deserved. One thing was for certain, William merited a chance.
"Policy." Jane told him quietly.
"I beg your pardon?" Neither had spoken for a while and William was unsure as to what Jane was referring to.
"It is most likely hospital policy that they release her if she has responded well to treatment. With Elizabeth wanting to leave, there isn't much of a chance they will keep her any longer than they have to."
William looked away angry about the truth Jane had just told him. Just a few hours ago he couldn't even wake Elizabeth, and now they were going to let her back out on the street.
"If she gets sick again or has any complications, there is going to hell to pay by this hospital." William could not hide the contempt in his voice, and he was dead serious. This hospital would be torn down brick by brick if she wasn't better when she went home.
Jane sympathized completely. She had heard of enough cases in Champaign where a patient had been released too soon, only to return in worse shape than before they left.
"Unluckily, it usually takes more than that to get any sort of policy change invoked." Jane knew what she was talking about.
"I can understand why she has such an aversion to hospitals in general, and I don't blame her for wanting to go home where she feels comfortable, I just wish the doctors would have tried to keep her for the day at least." He looked over at Jane who was staring straight ahead with a downhearted look, and decided to try to lighten the situation by saying something positive.
"One good thing to come out of all of this is that Elizabeth is better, and I made her promise to teach me how to take care of her diabetes. We won't get caught unaware again."
His intention was good, but instead of making her feel better, his words made Jane feel like crying. She could not imagine Eric ever saying such statements about her, let alone showing half the concern William was for Elizabeth. He was even willing to learn about her condition, or as Eric had called it 'sickliness'.
Eric had openly admitted that he was thankful Jane did not share in her family's medical problems because he did not think he would have been able to marry someone who was dependent like her father and sister. When he first said it, she thought he was just sharing his fears with her, but later on she understood Eric's full meaning.
He did not want any major imperfections in a spouse complicating his life. When they had started trying to have a baby, Eric mentioned the inherited risk his child may face with a tone of bitter regret. He did not want his child to have diabetes, and it took Jane some time before he totally understood there was nothing she could do about it.
On the day she moved back home, Jane had asked Elizabeth about William's acceptance of her diabetes.
"It's not a big deal," was her answer; "we're just like everybody else."
But they weren't like everyone else. They had something Jane had never really experienced: genuine shared love.
She blamed herself for not seeing past Eric's charm and attention before they were married. Jane also blamed herself for allowing outside forces to influence her about the importance of staying married to a man who did not love her for so long.
Tears began to slip from her eyes as she sank deeper into her regret. William mistakenly believed they were falling out of concern for Elizabeth. He put his arm around her shoulder and talked softly.
"It's going to be fine, Jane. Elizabeth will be home in a few hours and we'll get her back on her feet." She allowed him to comfort her. "You must be exhausted, why don't I give you the key to Liz's house and you can go rest in the guest room?"
"That isn't necessary, but I thank you." She wiped the tears off of her face. "I'm fine."
William closely studied her face while she composed herself. He recognized the look. It was more than concern; it was personal.
"Jane, you seem really down. Have you been feeling a little depressed lately?"
He was the third person in less than a week that had asked her that question. First it was Dr. Bingley, then her friend Melissa in Champaign, and now William. Did she look that bad? Jane wanted to know what it was about her that everyone was seeing.
"Why do you ask?" For some reason, Jane wasn't offended by his question like she was when Charles had asked it.
"You remind me of my mother. She battled with depression right before she passed away. There is just something similar in your eyes. I hope you aren't insulted by the question."
"I wasn't. And no, I am not depressed." Jane was not lying; she wasn't totally depressed. But she was getting there.
"Okay," William did not believe her but he wasn't going to push the issue very far. "Because if you were, I was going to tell you that if you needed someone to talk to about it, my friend Charles is an excellent source."
Jane closed her eyes and willed the fresh tears that were forming to stop. William was being too kind, and she needed to get away. The last thing she wanted right now was some professional trying to get her to spill her guts…at $120 an hour.
"William, you were right earlier. I am tired. Now that I know Lizzy is fine, I think I will go home and sleep in my own bed. Is it okay if I stop by the house tonight to check on her?"
"Of course. I'll let her know you're coming. Are you all right to drive?"
Jane stood up and gave him a weak grin.
"I am." She put her hand on his shoulder. "Thank you for getting Lizzy here so quickly."
"Thank you for calling. Jane, she was sleeping so peacefully, I would have let her sleep all night. I don't know what would have happened if you had not called." William's eyes met hers and for a moment they shared their mutual appreciation for each other.
"It was nothing but sisterly intuition. Take care, get some rest, and I'll come by after 6 tonight. If you need anything, call me." Jane gave him a hug before she left and exited the building without looking back.
3:15 p.m.
Later That Day…
Charles held a white piece of construction paper with a gruesome drawing done in red and black crayon up in front of him. He had a stricken look on his face as he pondered how a five-year-old could have such a violent imagination. This was one of the cases Charles was going to take home with him to study during his up coming two days off.
The week had been a long one, and his partners had filled his schedule to a point where he was going to have to start weeding out the children who really did not need therapy. Charles rested his head on the back of his chair and shut his eyes for a moment to allow the Chopin playing in the background to seep into his mind. Marilyn had already left for the day and the office was empty.
A while later Charles heard footsteps and hoped it was the cleaning people and not one of the other doctor's secretaries looking for him. He didn't say a word as he waited.
"Dr. Bingley?" A female voice addressed him.
Wondering how many more 'clients' they had for him to take on, Charles opened his eyes. He did not expect to see her.
"Jane?" He was completely taken by surprise. "Come in."
She stepped through the doorway and stood in front of his desk. Without wasting time, Jane reached into her purse to remove a prescription bottle and set it in front of him.
"Do you fill prescriptions?" She asked him with a deadpan expression.
"Yes. Do you need this," he picked up the bottle and read the name of the medication to himself, Prozac "filled?"
Jane had been watching him closely to see what his reaction was going to be, but he did not have one.
"Yes."
"Please, have a seat and we'll get you set up." Charles put the drawing he was still holding into a folder and opened a drawer to take out a prescription pad and a form. He checked the dosage on the bottle and questioned her.
"This prescription is for Alexandra J. Homman."
"Alexandra is my first name, but I have always been called Jane. I no longer use my ex-husband's last name. Please use Bennet."
"I will." No one at the party had told Charles she was divorced.
"Jane, I need to ask you some routine questions before I can write a you a prescription. It will only take a minute." Charles gave her his best reassuring voice because he was determined not to scare her off again. Obviously it was sheer luck that she was in his office right now and he proceeded as nonchalant as he could muster.
"How many times have you taken this medication and when?"
"Twice. The first was four years ago, and I used it four and a half months. The second was a year ago, and I was on it for three months. Both times I weaned myself off when I felt it was time."
"Did you experience any side effects?"
"None."
"Okay, are you taking any other medications right now?"
"No."
"Do you have any medical conditions I should be aware of?"
"No."
Charles went about asking her several more questions and when he was finished Jane appeared tense. He immediately went about writing her prescription and handed it to her. As he expected, having the prescription in her hand gave her a feeling of relief. Looking at the paper, Jane noticed that he had written it for 6 refills. She looked up at him ready to ask him why he had written it for so long, but instead of saying anything she remained silent.
His face had the calmest expression on it and for a few minutes she allowed the weight she had been carrying around on her shoulders to be put down while her eyes took in the man sitting across from her and his surroundings.
The office was pleasant. During her time working in Champaign, Jane had been in and out of countless Doctor's offices, yet this one was an original. There was no diploma hanging on the wall, nor any photocopied membership documents from prestigious organizations, nothing visible to indicate how qualified he was to be seated behind his desk. There were two matching bookcases, but this was only an assumption since they had doors and were closed. What few pictures he had on the wall were framed and matted drawings done by children. They were colorful pieces of art and each one had a brass tag secured to the bottom of the frame. Without thinking about it, Jane rose and went over to the largest. The tag read 'Jamal Oct. 1997'. The picture itself was of a stick person wearing a grin outside under the sun.
Charles wanted to tell her that each of those pictures represented a story to him, but he did not. Instead he watched her smiling back at Jamal's art. She was such a pretty woman, especially when she smiled. At the party, he had not realized how attractive she was because of her resemblance to Tanya, and the shock caused him to only see her as a phantom he needed to reach. But now, as he looked at her as 'Jane', he was astonished by the absolute grace this woman represented. Something about the way she held her head and eyes as she studied the artwork led him to believe that under her somber exterior was a gentle creature who felt deeply. He had no proof to back up his impression, only a guess.
Jane sat back down in her chair without being self-conscious about what she had just done. She once again looked at Charles. What he was doing dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans on a workday was a mystery to her. A few of the psychologists she interacted with at her former workplace dressed casually for work, but not to this degree. His blue sweatshirt had a big orange U of I logo on it, and another smile crossed her face wondering if he received as many calls from their alumni association as she did.
Jane did not realize she was she was behaving more like her former self with the easy smiles and quiet curiosity, but she was. All Jane did know was that the room she was in gave her a feeling of peacefulness. Glancing at the walls she decided the shade of pale yellow coloring them must be the reason, and took note of the color so when she painted her own apartment, she could choose something close to the same tint.
She put the prescription in her purse and prepared to leave. Jane really didn't have anything more to say except a 'thank you'. An apology might also be in order since she no longer believed Charles had acted out of vanity at the party. He just didn't seem the type of man who would do such a thing.
"Would you like that filled here? The pharmacy is open." Charles was not quite ready for her to go yet, and when he saw her getting ready to stand up he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. It was a good choice.
Jane checked her watch and calculated the amount of time she would need to drive to Hinsdale. There was still plenty of time.
"If you will tell me where it is located, I think I will."
"I'll just call it down for you." Charles dialed downstairs and gave the pharmacist the information.
"He said it will be about fifteen minutes, will that be a problem?" He asked as he hung up the phone.
"No, I told William I would stop by Elizabeth's around six."
"Do you have dinner plans with them tonight?"
Jane relayed to Charles what had happened during the night, omitting the information about her dream. He expressed his concern over the shortness of Elizabeth's hospital stay, and Jane explained to him the basics of procedural discharges and the effect on insurance companies. This led to a discussion about her job at Carle Hospital and before they knew it, time flew by and it was five minutes until the pharmacy was due to close.
"Jane, the pharmacy closes in a few minutes. Would you be at all interested in getting some coffee with me? I know," Charles smiled, "you are not looking for a date. It would just be coffee."
Jane slyly looked at Charles out of the corner of her eye. He was pretty easy to talk to, and when she had confirmed his suspicions about depression, he didn't say a word.
"That would be nice. I really could use some coffee right now."
They both readied themselves to leave.
"Are you having problems sleeping at night?" Charles asked as he locked his outer office door.
"No, last night I was worrying about Elizabeth after I arrived home from the hospital. I finally called back around 4 a.m. and talked to her for a minute. She was feeling much better."
"Jane, the pharmacy is on the main floor. I'll show you the way."
In their individual cars, Jane and Charles arrived at a small diner fifteen minutes later. The hostess led them to a booth and took their orders.
Two masters of conversation sat facing each other on opposite sides of the table. Charles would soon learn that like himself, Jane knew how to guide a discussion in such a way to get others talking about themselves without anyone being aware of it.
She had her ex-husbands example to thank for this skill, and it was most useful when she found herself in social situations. Any timidness she experienced could be covered up very well using the methods Eric instructed her in. Jane, people like to talk about their lives and interests. Once you find their 'hot' topic, encourage them to continue speaking. They will walk away from you afterward believing they know you without having any real information. When your name comes up in conversation at a later date, all they will remember is that they were fond of you. This really works, I use it on my clients and contacts all of the time.
"Jane, if this is too personal please let me know, but I was wondering how long you have been divorced?" Charles was curious.
"Since June of this year. Have you ever been married?" Jane volleyed back her first question.
"No, I have not."
"Really? What made you decide to become a Psychiatrist, if I may ask you a personal question?" Jane smiled a little. Not only was she able to change the subject, but also make it one that only he could answer. Confidently she waited for him to begin.
"I have always been fascinated with how the mind and body works, and psychiatry is a mixture of both. What exactly is your degree in?"
"Hospital Administration. Have you ever worked in a hospital?"
"Yes, during my internship. What made you choose your field?"
"I started out thinking that I may want to enter into physical science, but changed my mind my junior year. What hospital did you do your internship at?"
It was at this point that both of them were becoming perplexed. Neither could get the other to say more than a few words about themselves before 'passing the ball' back. Charles had patience on his side and he could continue on like this for hours, but Jane was starting to get a bit frustrated. Charles answered her question.
"Oak Park General Hospital, which was convenient since I live there. What town do you reside in?" This was another piece of information he did not know about her.
"Lisle. I was raised in Naperville. Since you come from Oak Park, I don't suppose you live in a Frank Lloyd Wright home?"
"Actually, I do. My Grandparents bought it in the 1950's. Do you like Wright?"
Jane's mouth fell open. Did she like Frank Lloyd Wright? Her mission oak furniture's design was based on his unique architectural style, and she fought Eric tooth and nail to get it in the settlement.
"Charles, tell me all about it! Which house is it?" Her excitement was clear and they both stopped quizzing each other and discussed his home and the architect who designed it with vivacity.
"At the moment, we don't have the house open to the public. My grandmother and I live there and she is not well, but if you would like to come over and view it, I would be more than happy to show you around."
"Would I!" Jane felt like a kid for a moment. "I have been a fan of his for quite some time. Thank you for the offer."
"I have Sundays and Mondays off, so you pick the day, and I'll show it to you."
"Mondays would be better for me until I go back to work. I attend Church with my mother on Sundays."
"Would this Monday work?" With Lillian's failing health, Charles was not sure how long it would be before visitors would be out of the question.
"If it is not a problem, this Monday would be fine." While they were talking, their food came. Jane had ordered a salad as usual and Charles a piece of hot cherry pie ala mode. His pie looked and smelled good. Charles observed her as she looked down at her bare salad and back at his pie.
"Want some? I really shouldn't be eating this, we have dinner at 6:30." Charles turned his plate around so she could try it.
"Oh, no thank you. I watch what I eat."
"Why? You look great!" Charles was a little embarrassed at his enthusiastic confession, but it was true.
Jane did a quick calorie tally in her mind for the day. "Maybe just one taste. Want some dry salad?" His 'no thanks' expression answered her question and she found it amusing enough to let out a little laugh.
She ordered him to pass the pie and three bites later pushed it back to his side of the table.
"Incredible cherry pie." Jane sighed as she leaned back against the booth.
"I know. I found this diner two days after I started working, and have eaten pie everyday since. Yesterday, my grandmother asked me to bring her some and I think she is hooked, too."
"You said your grandmother is ill. What is wrong?"
"Lillian is in the final stage of lung cancer." Charles did not elaborate.
"I'm sorry. Has she finished taking treatments?" Jane reached out and placed her hand over his. She had been in the cancer wing of Carle Hospital enough to see how devastating it could be.
Charles nodded his head. This was a subject he did not like talking about.
"Will I get to meet her Monday?" Sensing he was uncomfortable, her tone was soft, yet upbeat.
"Lillian would have it no other way." Charles did not look down because he did not want to draw attention to it, but she was still touching his hand. It felt nice.
"She likes to surround herself with 'young people' as she calls our age range. Lillian claims it helps keep her mind active."
"Your grandmother sounds interesting." A devilish smile came across her face. "And what age range would that be? I am still 21 you know."
Jane was teasing him with the slightly sarcastic wit she had developed over the past couple of years.
"I would have never have thought you that old!" He too, had a sense of humor.
"Thank you." Jane realized where her hand was and removed it. She wasn't sure how long it had been there. "You may need your hand back sometime tonight. Speaking of tonight," she looked at her watch. It was 5:15. "I need to go."
Charles checked his watch, too. "So do I. Do you want me to pick you up on Monday?"
"No, I can drive myself, but I do need the address and some basic directions." She watched him take out a business card and write on the back of it. "What time would you like me to be there?"
"How about between 10 and 11? Lillian is generally up during this time."
"That will work out fine." She started to slide out of the booth as he took some money out of his wallet.
"Jane, one more thing. Your medicine sometimes takes two weeks before it is fully active. Do you have someone you can talk to if you feel the need?"
"I haven't before, but I am not feeling that bad, yet. It is more like I feel it coming on, and this time I decided not to wait until I…" she hesitated for a moment. "I know myself well enough to know where I am headed, and I did not want to spend another Christmas miserable. Last year I was alone in Champaign and didn't leave the house for several days. I won't let it get out of hand like that again."
"You were separated at that time?" Charles asked.
"I haven't been with Eric for two years, but the first Christmas I spent with a dear friend in Europe."
"Oh." Two years. "Well, I will walk you out to your car so you can go see your sister."
"Charles, I may let Lizzy know that I am going to view your home on Monday, but I don't want her to know why I came to your office. Okay? There is a long, complicated story as to why, but this is my first holiday season with her in many years." Jane was not going to have anything ruin this holiday season if she could help it.
"I will not say a word to anyone. Not even about the pie!" He winked at her and her fears were settled.
They stopped on the sidewalk in front of their cars after leaving the restaurant. Jane was feeling rather playful for some reason and she attributed it to the sugar rush from the pie she had.
"Charles, thank you for everything." She made a serious face and continued. "I am sorry about when I referred to people in your profession as 'Shrinks' last Saturday. I should have used the more dignified term of 'Head Shrinkers'. I was wrong and I admit it."
Jane could not keep a straight face for long after Charles burst out laughing.
"Jane! Such compliments! You will only fuel my vanity." He was totally amused by her wicked humor and felt free to tease her back.
"I AM sorry about that comment!" She really was, although her laughter did not indicate it.
As if it was the most natural thing to do, he kissed her on the cheek.
"Good-bye, Jane. I'll see you on Monday."
"Good-bye, Charles."
Jane called Elizabeth's home on her cell phone once she was out of Elgin and William let her know she was sleeping, but improving. Elizabeth had spent several hours awake on the couch earlier and was exhausted.
Together they decided that it would be best if Jane came on another day.
Realizing she was going to be around Charles' grandmother Monday, Jane postponed her visit until Monday night or Tuesday. They chatted with each other for a few more minutes and when Jane hung up she had a good feeling about William's ability to care for her sister.
Jane drove on home with a lightness of spirit she had not experienced in a while.
Chapter 6 ~ One Wild Child, Or Jane Cleans House.
Sunday
November 15 1998
11:35 a.m.
"Jane, could you put the ham in the oven? I need to call Mary and Lizzy." Rose Bennet requested of her eldest child as they entered the kitchen after attending church.
Rose laid down her Bible before she picked up the receiver. She had tried her best to get her girls to attend services with her each week, but for some unexplained reason they rarely obliged. Elizabeth showed her face about once a month and she could not remember the last time Mary had been. Rose thought she had taught them the importance of regular attendance, but somewhere along the line they stopped following her advice. At least Jane, Katt and Lydia still paid attention to her wisdom, but it was little comfort to a worried mother.
Jane tossed the metal pan in the oven and watched closely as her mother dialed the phone. Funny, but it made her feel a little melancholy. It was nice to have Sunday brunch at home once again, and the only thing that would make it better would be if the rest of the family would join them.
"I tell you Jane, those girls are never home on Sunday!" Jane only responded with a knowing smile. Oh, they were home. "I hate answering machines."
"Mary, this is your mother. I did not see you in church today. Just because you are finally getting married doesn't mean…"
Jane left the kitchen and went in search of her youngest sister. Lydia had been unable to attend today due to the fact she was so tired after attending another out of town football game and the bon fire that was held afterwards. She had given her mother some weak story about being a back-up scorekeeper, which Jane knew was not the case. When she reached Lydia's bedroom door, she could her laughing on the other phone line.
"Lydia? Are you up?" Jane listened as she whispered that she had to go and hung up the phone.
"Barely, Jane. Come on in." Lydia was still in her nightshirt.
Jane opened the door and looked around at the complete mess the room was in. It reminded her of when the family had three girls in high school at once, and the messes they use to make.
"We're warming up some ham so why don't you join us in about 15 minutes," Jane said as she walked over to her sister's desk. There was not a schoolbook in sight but enough clutter and jewelry thrown about to fill a wastepaper basket.
"Okay, Jane. I'll jump in the shower real quick. Was the sermon good today?"
"Yes." Jane rolled her eyes. Lydia really did not need to pretend to be upset about missing church. She knew better.
A pretty shade of beige caught her attention and she picked up a jacket to get a better look at. The smell of cigarette smoke was released as air hit the leather. Jane inwardly groaned.
"Your jacket stinks like smoke. Take it to the cleaners." If Jane thought she could have stomached it, she would bring the coat up to her nose to see what else was on it. The stench was overpowering, so she placed back on the chair it was draped over.
"There were some boys smoking on the bus last night. I'll get it cleaned because I hate the smell of cigarettes." Lydia wrinkled up her nose.
"I didn't say it was cigarettes." Jane's calm tone and straight face indicated she did not believe her.
Lydia's complexion went pale as she stared wide-eyed at her older sister. Jane was actually about to ask her about the bon fire, but her intuition told her that Lydia was hiding something. Jane crossed her arms over her chest and waited to see what story she was going to come up with, but Lydia did not say a word.
"You had better admit it now." Jane used a trick her mother used on Lizzy and Mary when they were teenagers.
"I...I…have no idea what you are talking about." Perhaps if Lydia had not looked as frightened as a bunny caught in a trap, Jane would have let her get away with her explanation, but she did not.
"Am I going to find anything incriminating if I put my hand in your coat pockets?" Jane knew she had no right to search her sister's coat, but she figured it was worth a shot. If Lydia did not object she was going to see what could be found inside.
Lydia rolled her eyes upward and thought for a brief moment. "No."
Dang! I almost had her. Jane went ahead and searched the jacket, pulling out a package of cigarettes, a lighter, twenty dollars and a movie stub. Opening the pack of smokes, she found only cigarettes.
"Don't tell Mom, Jane. Last night was the first time I tried smoking. I didn't like it and am going to throw them away." She gave her a woeful pout that reminded Jane of when she use to scold her as a toddler. Too bad its effect just wasn't the same coming from a seventeen-year-old.
"Save it, Lydia. Get dressed and come to lunch. You and I are going to have a talk later." Jane left the room without looking back. Both Mary and Elizabeth had given her some inside information about her baby sister's running around town at all hours of the night and her barely passing grades, and she was going to discuss it with Lydia before the day was over.
Possibly one of the best steps for Jane to take was to find a way to reach her parents and make it clear to them how serious the situation was. Dale would be returning home early December for good and after he had time to adjust, Jane was going to apprise him of all the facts she knew. Her mother was another story. Shock was always the best method to use with her when someone needed to tell her something important, but Jane did not like doing it. She would try reason first, and if it failed, she would be forced to dramatize until she had her attention.
Returning to the kitchen, she heard her mother talking to Elizabeth.
"…You should have called me, Lizzy." Rose went silent as she listened.
"Okay. Do you need me to come over tomorrow when William goes to work?"
"I love you too. Call me if you need me. Here's Jane." Looking a little hurt and concerned, she handed the phone to Jane.
"How are you doing?"
"Almost normal. William tells me I have you to thank for my little emergency room trip. What made you call at midnight to check on me?"
"I don't know, I just did. I thought I might come by tomorrow and visit. I have something to do in the morning, so when I finish, I'll give you a call. Would you like me to stop by the store for anything?"
"No, I don't need a thing I can think of. Really, I feel fine. I would be glad to have your company tomorrow, though. Do you have any idea what time you might be free from…what are you doing?"
"I'll explain it when I get there, but expect me in the afternoon. Well, Mother is taking out the food so I had better help. I'll see you tomorrow."
Placing the receiver in its cradle, Jane turned to her mother. She was staring at her with hope in her eyes. Rose had noticed that Jane did not seem very happy since she moved back to the area, and she hoped she would be doing something 'social' with other people. Jane had always had so many friends when she was growing up, and surely some of them were still in town that she could connect with.
"I'm doing some research on Frank Lloyd Wright, Mother. That's all."
"Oh."
There was no such thing as eating in silence when Rose Bennet was at the table, so the three women talked throughout their meal. They were discussing Katt moving into her own apartment in Seattle, and a slip of the tongue by Lydia gave Jane a new focus.
"Mom, I think your idea about me staying with Katt next year is a good one. I asked her and she said she would think about it." Lydia was giddy with excitement about the prospect.
"Are you thinking of attending Seattle University?" Jane had not heard about this plan.
"No! After I graduate this summer, I am taking a year off and am going to travel like Lizzy did. I'll go to college the year after that." Lydia had hatched this plan at the beginning of the school year and had easily gained her mother's support.
Jane turned to her mother looking confused.
"Jane, I don't see any reason why Lydia can't have a little fun before college. She will be with some older friends of hers, and school has been difficult for her. It isn't like when you went to school, the course work is much harder these days. Her counselor told her that she may be dyslexic, therefore it takes Lydia twice the effort of a normal student. Lydia says she is worn out by all of the studying."
Without realizing it, Rose had just spouted the biggest 'line of bull' Jane had ever heard come out of her mother's mouth. Years ago if Jane would have given her mother such a story, Rose would have been down at the counselors office getting the details so fast it would have made her head swim.
"Lydia," Jane eyed her sister, "dyslexia is treatable. Did your counselor test you before making a diagnosis? and what is being done to correct your problem?"
"Well, we're going to do the testing when my schedule allows. Probably next semester." Sensing trouble, Lydia began to think of a way to change the subject.
"How much is it affecting your schoolwork? What are your grades? Don't you think the sooner this is cleared up, the better it will be for you?"
Lydia let out an exasperated sigh. "I guess so."
"Mom, what are her grades?" Jane wanted to see how much her mother actually knew.
"Mostly C's, a few D's in the more difficult subjects, and she will be taking History again this summer." Rose tilted her head and thought for a moment. "Jane, I think you have a point, we should not wait for that counselor to get around to testing Lydia, but get her some help now."
Jane was sent an ugly glare from across the table. She ignored it and continued on with the conversation.
"I know of a person who may be able to test her. I'll ask him about it tomorrow."
Lydia began to complain, but Jane stopped her by raising her hand.
"I am not finished, Lydia," she said sternly.
"Until then, why don't we start helping her with her homework every night? While I'm not working, I'll stop by two or three days a week right after school and help Lydia complete it. And one more thing, doesn't it seem a little odd that she is spending so much time being a back-up scorekeeper if she is indeed dyslexic? Hum…I would think her time would be better spent getting her grades up so she can get into a college. Seattle University has some pretty strict standards, and I'm afraid it doesn't sound like Lydia's GPA is going to make it. What was your SAT score, dear?"
Lydia was livid. Jane was ruining 'everything' by sticking her nose in her business. She had a sweet setup at home, and didn't want an older and obviously bored sister getting in the way of it.
"I have not taken the SAT test yet, Jane. And my after school activities are not getting in the way of my schoolwork. I don't think this is any of your concern." Lydia was getting snippy and this just made Jane angry.
"Lydia, let me just burst your bubble right now. If you think Dad is going to let you travel across America without any adult supervision, you are sorely mistaken."
"I'll be 18 in September. I can do whatever I want."
"How are you going to pay for this?"
"Dad will give me my money, just like he did for everyone else."
"Wrong! I don't think you understand the system. First off, Dad doesn't just give you your money when you turn 18; he isn't a stupid man. Second, He decides when you get it, and he bases it on your maturity and level of responsibility. Third, he told us all that we have to continue our education in some way after high school, and at the rate you are going, you are going to lucky to get into "nail" college. If you want to go through life stupid and lazy, that is your choice, but as long as you are a minor, you will follow the rules the rest of us had to. Now, do you understand what I am saying? Don't make any big plans with your money Lydia, because you may be thirty before you get it."
"That just sucks! Lizzy got to do whatever she wanted. Why is she so special?"
"Because Lizzy had already been in college for two and a half years before she did any traveling."
"Mom! Tell Jane that we already had an agreement."
"Now Lydia, let's just see what your father has to say when he gets home. I'm sure we can work out something."
"I hate you, Jane!" Lydia pushed her chair out from the table and stormed off to her room.
"I don't care." Jane yelled after her. "You're not going to become a looser if I can help it."
"Jane!" Rose couldn't believe the way Jane was behaving. "Give the poor girl a break. She is trying her best…"
"Mother, I cannot not believe you are buying her lies! I know for a fact that she isn't the 'back-up scorekeeper' for the football team at school, because I called her school up last week before I left for Champaign. The Principal had some pretty interesting things to say about Lydia. Her dyslexia story has holes in it, and I really doubt there is one ounce of truth to it. She smokes, and who knows what else."
Rose did not say anything in response to what she was just told. Jane took a deep breath and counted to ten. Yelling about Lydia wasn't going to help her.
"Mom, she is slipping away. Let's catch her before it is too late."
Rose quietly contemplated what her daughter had just told her. In her heart, she knew Jane was speaking the truth, but had chosen to ignore it for many years now. Everything was so much easier when Dale would set the rules for the girls. Except in the areas of religion and faith, Rose was no enforcer and she did not like feeling like she needed to be.
"Where do I start?" Rose asked.
"Go to the school on Monday morning and talk with the Principal. Request that all of Lydia's homework assignments be faxed or e-mailed to you every day. Hire a tutor and keep her at home until her grades improve. She needs to learn that she is responsible for her own mistakes, so don't let her give you a list of excuses. Hold her accountable, just like you did the rest of us. I'll talk to my psychiatrist friend and see what he recommends."
"Janie, after your father…"
"I know Mom, you have had to do everything here. When Dad gets home we'll involve him too."
"You're my responsible girl, Jane. You always have been."
I wish that were true, Mama.