“How did he die?”
“Heroin overdose.”
“Damn,” she said. “How am I going to tell him?”
“Call the police and let them do it.”
“No, no, it’s my job. . . . This is obscene, the man’s been through so much. When he wakes up he’ll expect me to tell him about the daughter’s visit. You should have her come. Especially now. He deserves it.”
“Think so?” I said.
“Why are you being so hostile? I’m just trying to do what’s right.”
“So am I.”
“I’m sorry.” Suddenly, a softer tone. “I’m sure you are. This caught me by surprise. I have no experience with this kind of thing. I really don’t know what to do.”
“There’s no easy way to tell him,” I said. “Just find the right time and do it.”
“What’s the right time?” she said, almost timidly.
“When he’s not drunk or highly medicated or upset about something else.”
“That doesn’t leave much . . . but you’re right, I’ll just have to bite the bullet.”
Sounding miserable.
“What’s the matter?” I said.
“What if I tell him and he has a fit and—he’s in such bad shape. What if he has another stroke? What do I do, all alone with him?”
“He obviously needs a doctor.”
“I know, I know, but he hates them.”
“Then I don’t know what to tell you.”
“He likes you. Would you come up and be there when I tell him—maybe coach me?”
I laughed. “I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”
“No, no, he does. Said he’d given you both barrels and you’d shot right back. He respects you. It’s the first time I’ve heard him say anything respectful about anyone. I know it’s an imposition, but I’ll pay you for your time. Please, this freaks me out; I don’t do death well. Too much weirdness in this family, this wasn’t what I expected when I took the job. But I can’t abandon him—too many people have.”
“It seems to me he’s the one doing the abandoning.”
“You’re right,” she said. “But he doesn’t see it that way. He can’t help himself—he’s too old to change. I’m really worried I’m going to mess this up. Please help me. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“I won’t take your money,” I said. “Conflict of interest. But I’ll come up. And it has to be now.”
The kindly therapist, even as I mapped out a walk through the grounds. Looking for lacy trees.
“You will?” she said. “That’s so incredible. If there’s anything I can do in return . . .”
Sexy voice.
“Let’s just get through this,” I said. “I feel sorry for the whole family.”
“Yes,” she said. “They’re a pitiful bunch, aren’t they?”
CHAPTER
34
She was sitting on the porch and got up to meet me as I pulled up to the hitching posts. She had on a soft black minidress and black sandals. A bra this time, the cups patterned in relief under the cotton. She jogged down the big wooden steps, smiling, and I felt about to be tackled as she came straight at me. Stopping inches away, she took my hand.
Her body was sleek, but this close, with the sunlight bathing her face, I noticed tiny tuck scars where her ears met her jawline.
Face lift. Older than I’d thought?
Her hand held on to mine and I looked down and saw other scars, on her arms. Small, barely discernible, with the exception of one long white line running parallel to the knuckles of her right hand.
“Thank you.” She pecked my cheek. “He’s still sleeping.”
Letting go, she directed me onto the porch with just a touch at the small of my back.
“How long does he usually sleep?” I said.
“He can go anywhere from two to five hours. I try to ease up on the morphine before lunch, so he’ll have an appetite, but he generally reacts strongly to it.”
“Who prescribes the morphine?”
“A doctor in Pacific Palisades.”
“Does this doctor ever actually see him?”
She rubbed her index finger with her thumb, sighed, and smiled. “What can I say?”
I thought of how Lowell had despised Puck for his addiction.