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2000, MINNEAPOLIS
“I don’t want to hear your theories on my daughter’s state of mind, Stevie!” Marcus Dunbar said. Steven pulled the receiver away from his ear and waited. “She is not bi-polar or depressed. I just talked to her a couple of days ago and she sounded perfectly normal. If anyone needs help, it’s you.” His father-in-law’s attempts to take the upper hand in conversations by belittling, bullying, and reprimanding had grown wearisome.
Dr. Carl Devlin had been Marcus’ choice of the perfect mate for his daughter, and nothing had changed. Serena had rarely defied her father, so when she married against his wishes, a long battle of wills began between Steven and his new father-in-law. After twelve years Marcus still resented their union. Steven’s original admiration for this self-made man had quickly waned and now he could barely stand to share the same room. Running a close second on his list of activities he disliked was talking to him on the telephone. He should have insisted on speaking with his mother-in-law. Kirsten acknowledged her daughter’s problem and had been a strong ally on more than one occasion.
Steven let his fingers drum on the edge of the table, his patience nearly at an end. He finally released a puff of frustration. “Sorry I called, Marcus. I foolishly thought you’d want to know that Serena was being admitted into Strickland Sanitarium for an extended stay. She needs family behind her. She’s confused enough without you telling her there’s nothing wrong with her. But you don’t have to worry about your precious reputation. They’ll admit her under an alias. The media will never know that the philanthropic ex-senator saving druggies and homeless schizophrenics off the streets of Minneapolis is the same man who refuses to visit his own daughter when she shows signs of mental instability.” He slammed the phone down and turned to find Zander standing in the kitchen doorway behind him, trembling.
“Zander, what are you doing here? I told you to go out in the back yard and play.”
His son’s face was flushed, his hands clenched at his sides. “I don’t want to play outside. You’re making me mad, Daddy.”
“What are you talking about? How did I make you mad? You said you wanted to try out your new glider plane.” Steven reached toward his son, but the boy quickly backed up.
He shook his head, confusion written all over his face. “I’m not mad–you are. You make me feel mad.” Tears filled his eyes. “Mommy’s always sad. Now you’re mad and I hurt inside. I don’t like it, Daddy. I don’t like it.”
Steven was instantly contrite for his thoughts toward Marcus. Dr. Kapoor had warned him about Zander’s tendency to soak up emotions around him like pasta in a simmering pool of sauce. The boy had no filter on his senses. Similar to a child without an immune system, instead of a protected environment away from germs and bacteria, he needed a calm environment without worry, anger, or fear. Was that even possible?
He drew in a deep breath and slowly released it, purposefully trying to clear his mind. Letting go of the anger against Marcus was easier than pulling his thoughts from the chasm of worry and uncertainty about Serena. But he tried for Zander’s sake.
“All right, bud. I’m not angry anymore. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He stood, his hands loosely at his sides, waiting for his son to take the first step.
Zander wiped his nose on the sleeve of his shirt, visibly calmer. “Daddy, will you come out and help me fly the glider?” he asked finally.
Steven swallowed hard and nodded. “Of course. My father taught me to fly a plane. It’s time you learned the same.”
“But it’s not a real plane,” Zander said, a small frown wrinkling his forehead. “It’s a toy.”
He smiled. “It’s a start.”
He followed his son outside. They played with the toy plane for half an hour, Steven explaining lift and thrust while Zander threw the glider again and again to watch it be carried by wind currents around the yard.
The two of them were naturally close, given Serena’s state of mind much of Zander’s first five years, and yet Steven realized his son kept much of himself hidden inside, as though afraid of saying too much, admitting he was different. The boy could not possibly understand what was happening within him. No one really did. Not even Dr. Kapoor. The doctor continued to work with Zander, testing him weekly, but he suspected Zander was holding back from his true potential. And maybe he was. He was a smart kid. Perhaps this was his way of refusing to be used by the company. He was also Steven’s pride and joy, and no one–not Marcus, Frank, Devlin, or the entire company board would hurt Zander while he was around. If he had to, he would take his son and disappear.
Steven knew when Serena came outside and stood on the deck watching them because Zander went still. His shoulders slumped on his small frame and he sat on the ground with his plane pretending to straighten the wings. Steven looked up and smiled, keeping his emotions in check for Zander’s sake.
Serena shielded her eyes from the sun with one hand and waved with the other. In her white silk dressing gown and robe she appeared a lost angel set down amid earthly creatures. She slowly turned and stepped back inside, the bottom of her robe lifting in the breeze like a flag of surrender, disappearing through the French doors after her.
“It’s time to go in now,” he said, his eyes on the still open door. “Mommy is going to visit the doctor for a couple days and you’ll stay with Aunt Marion.”
“Why can’t I stay with you, Daddy?”
“There are things I need to do. But don’t worry–you’ll have lots of fun with Aunt Marion. She plans to take you to the Zoo and the art museum. Probably even McDonalds.”
Zander held the small plane up to the sky, his eyes narrowed against the bright afternoon sunlight. His voice was thoughtful, “I like Aunt Marion. But Uncle Frank is kinda scary.”
Steven ruffled his son’s hair and grinned. “I’ve always thought that myself.”
*****
HANOVER
“She plays by ear. She only needs to hear the music once and she can repeat it. I tried to give her lessons when she was three, but she passed me by so quickly I just gave up. I think she should really learn to read music though, don’t you?” Lori stood with arms crossed, watching her five-year-old daughter finish playing Amazing Grace on the church’s ancient upright piano.
Mrs. Winter, the current church pianist, stared in wonder while Emma’s small hands moved over the keys. She shivered beneath a white sweater worn over her shoulders and pulled it closer. “Amazing,” she said in a whisper that carried clearly through the sanctuary when Emma finished and stood to face them.
“Emma, that was extraordinary. I’m awed at the depth of feeling you put into the music. Wherever did you learn to do that?”
Emma bit her lip and shrugged. “I hear you play on Sunday.”
The woman laughed and shook her head slowly. “You may hear me play every week honey, but that’s not what you heard.” She turned to Lori. “Your daughter has a special gift. I play what’s written. She plays what she feels. There’s nothing I can teach her. Perhaps you should send her to that school in Minneapolis for musically artistic children. They have a fabulous music program and the best teachers available.”
Lori sighed and stared off across the auditorium, not really seeing empty pews, but another brick wall. She wanted to be able to give Emma all the tools she needed to excel at what she was good at, but the tools needed to be in Hanover. She couldn’t be separated from her daughter. “We can’t afford something like that. And I can’t imagine my baby going off to live away from home.”
“Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak with the pastor and see if it would be all right to have Emma play sometimes for the evening service. I know she’s very young, but her talent really shouldn’t go to waste.”
Emma crawled behind the pulpit on hands and knees. “There’s lots of wires under here,” she informed them, “and dust.”
“Stay out of there, Emma.” Lori shook her head and faced Mrs. Winter with a wry look. “Yes, she is very young. I don’t know if she’s quite ready to play in church yet. Her attention span is still that of a five-year-old, even if her musical ability is not.”
The woman smiled and held out a hand. “Well, you think about it,” she said, clasping Lori’s fingers with a firm grip. “I’m sure her playing would be a blessing to the entire assembly.”
“Thank you, I will.” Lori bent down and dusted the knees of Emma’s jeans. “How do you always manage to find dirt wherever you go?” She took a hold of her daughter’s hand. “If piano playing doesn’t work out for her, I think she may have a future as a chimney sweep.”
“See you Sunday,” Mrs. Winter said. She turned and headed toward the Pastor’s office.
*****
MINNEAPOLIS
Marion Howard bent and hugged Zander close. The chronic arthritis that usually kept her sitting home unable to perform routine tasks was blessedly gone today. Or perhaps her joy at spending two whole days with her great nephew managed to mask the pain. Whatever it was, she thanked her Maker. A pain free day to spend with the precious boy was a wonderful blessing. She released Zander and straightened, a smile on her lips matching one in her heart. Steven stood back and watched, hands thrust in the pockets of his jeans. Marion loved the man dearly, but she believed he hovered too much. Since Serena had become lost in her own dark little world, Steven felt compelled to compensate. He tried to be father, mother, and secret service agent to his son. What the boy needed was someone accessible to share his thoughts and feelings with, not a twenty-four hour a day guard. She didn’t understand it, but when she brought the situation up with Frank, he told her in his own crass way, to mind her own business. Which set her wondering even more. Frank never gave Steven credit for much. For him to take his nephew’s side was against character.
She put a hand on Zander’s shoulder and smiled at Steven who still hesitated in the doorway. “Don’t worry about a thing. Zander and I have plans. We’ll be so busy having fun we won’t even miss you,” she promised.
Steven put on a sad face. “Thanks a lot.”
“Aunt Marion didn’t mean it, Daddy. She was just joking,” Zander said so quickly Marion wondered if he was accustomed to pacifying the adults in his household.
“I know that son. It’s all right. I was joking back.” He picked him up and hugged him again before setting him down. “You be a good boy and obey Marion now. Okay?”
He nodded solemnly, his mouth starting to tremble.
Marion intervened, hoping to make things easier on them both. “Zander is always a good boy for me. Frank is the one that’s a stinker,” she said, eliciting a laugh from them both.
She stepped past Steven and opened the door. “Tell Serena I’m keeping her in my prayers,” she said. Frank hated when she brought up spiritual things but believing was part of her and even after thirty-five years of marriage, he’d failed to dampen her faith.
Steven looked a little sheepish at her request but nodded. “Thanks, I will.”
They watched him walk out to the car and waved as he drove off.
“Would you like a snack before I get dinner going?” Marion asked, hoping to distract him. Not until the vehicle was out of sight did Zander follow her to the kitchen for apple slices.
*****
STEVEN LISTENED WITH only half his attention while the doctor briefed them on the rules of the facility. “This institution has a rigid policy of no visitors during the first forty-eight hours. We don’t want anything to interfere with treatment. After that, an hour visit per day by close family is acceptable as long as it doesn’t put undue stress on the patient.” The man spoke of Serena as though she weren’t even in the room.
Steven stood beside her and held her trembling hand. Serena sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, her unblinking gaze fixated on the open door of the room. With lace curtains and bedspread, plush rose-embroidered carpet, and a richly ingrained Mahogany armoire, the room resembled a four-star hotel suite rather than an institutional setting. But she seemed less than eager to stay. He couldn’t blame her. The place made him uneasy as well.
He’d unpacked her things before the doctor showed up and tried to make the room seem homelike and familiar, putting her comb, brush, and toiletries on the dressing table, her silk robe across the bed. The empty suitcase sat on the floor at his feet, a grim reminder that this might be a lengthy separation.
He interrupted the doctor’s monologue. “How long will she have to stay?”
The doctor’s tone matched the annoyed look he shot Steven. “Your wife is here to heal, Mr. Howard. Healing the mind usually takes more time and attention than a physical wound. We can’t always pinpoint the root cause of an individual’s depression immediately upon arrival and therefore can’t guarantee a time or date when a patient is ready to leave. But we guarantee your wife will receive the best of care.” Dr. Blackstone cleared his throat. “I’ll give you a couple of minutes to say goodbye before sending the nurse to escort Serena to her first group therapy session.”
When the doctor was gone, Steven pulled his hand from hers as gently as possible and stepped toward the window overlooking the grounds. Well-manicured lawns and shrubberies grew lush and green as if in defiance of the mental confusion contained within these walls. “It’s a nice view,” he said for lack of anything better and then because he wanted to convince himself, added, “You’ll be fine. The staff seems very caring and genial. Zander and I will try to get along without you for a few days, although we’ll miss you terribly.” He turned around and met her eye. “This is for the best. You know I love you, Serena.”
A single tear slid past her lashes and down one cheek. She closed her eyes and drew a shaky breath. “I know,” she said, her voice as soft as rolled cotton.
A brisk knock on the open door startled them both. The woman smiled; pearly white teeth in sharp contrast to dark chocolate skin. “Good afternoon, folks. I’m the Nurse assigned to show you around today. You can call me JJ. Nearly everybody does.”
“Nice to meet you,” Serena said, her perfect manners still intact despite the circumstances. She reached a hand toward Steven as though in need of physical support to stand. He clasped it and pulled her close.
He felt compelled to reassure her, like he did with Zander each time they made a visit to the company’s lab. “It’ll be all right, babe. I promise.”
She looked up at him through damp lashes and smiled, but there was no spark in her eyes. “You always do the right thing, or you would have left me by now.” She pressed a kiss into his palm. “Protect Zander. He needs you.”
“Of course,” he promised automatically.
Nurse JJ took Serena’s arm and led her away. Steven stood at the door and watched, helpless. They turned down the hallway to the right and disappeared from his sight. Like a precious diamond he’d left with the jeweler to shape and polish, he wondered if she would come home intact, or crack under pressure and be damaged forever.
He picked up her robe and held it to his nose, breathed in the flowery scent of her. She had to get better, because he couldn’t see a future without her. Zander needed a real mother. Not the caricature she’d become, but a flesh and blood woman. One that kissed owies and baked cookies and read bedtime stories at night.
He gave the room a final glance and turned to go. His fist clenched around the kiss she’d left in his palm. The thought occurred to him to pray, but he shrugged it off. Childhood habits were hard to break, but he’d managed to break most of them along the way. He was a grown man now and didn’t need that crutch.
On his way to the car, he thought of Serena’s choice of words. Why had she asked him to protect Zander, rather than take care of him? Did she know more about her son’s origins than she let on? Had Marcus said something to her? He had wanted to tell her himself years ago, but knew it was impossible. He alone would live with the consequences of his actions or find a way to change them.
He opened the car door and slid behind the wheel.
The need to protect the boy above all else was not only his desire, but Serena’s as well. Maybe it was just a natural-born instinct that mothers have for their children, but she’d asked him specifically to protect their son and he intended to do it to the best of his ability. He started the car and pulled away from the Sanitarium with renewed purpose. A quick stop for supplies and he would be on his way.