Struck By Lightning: Slow Satisfaction Part 2

When I climbed into bed, my phone chimed again with a text from James.

Karina, please forgive me.

I stared at it for a few moments. Then I turned the phone off and went to sleep.

Two.

Believing the Strangest Things The hospital loomed, gray and white, as the taxi pulled up. Hospitals are kind of frightening. Maybe from watching medical dramas on TV when I was a kid, I found them scary. There are things that go on there that I don't know or understand, and people get a lot of bad news in hospitals.

The nurse who met me at the ward desk was friendly but very matter-of-fact about everything. Her name was Rita. "Your mom's got the room to herself right now. Her roomie was discharged this morning. So you've got a little s.p.a.ce to spread out in there if you want. At least for a while."

"Great, thanks."

"Everything's looking good right now," Rita added in a low voice. "She just needs to clear up here." She waved her hand in a circle over her face, signaling mental confusion. "She had her lunch already, and your sister is in there, too. Go on in."

I hadn't even taken notice of the other occupant in the room last night. The curtain that separated the two beds was drawn back now, though, and the sun came through the window onto the empty bed. Mom was in the bed closer to the door. Jill was in a chair against the wall. It looked like she had fallen asleep while sitting up.

The bed was set so that Mom was reclined at an angle, sitting most of the way upright but with her head back on a pillow. She was asleep, too.

I wondered if I should tiptoe back out and let them both rest. Jill had let me sleep in that morning, and I had been so tired I hadn't even noticed her leaving. The least I could do was return the favor, I thought.

Before I could sneak out, though, Mom's eyes fluttered open. She stared at me a moment, then said, as if she were continuing our conversation from last night, "You know, I was watching the television last night and they were showing these women in the latest dresses and they were so cute! I thought you would look really wonderful in one of them. As soon as I get out of here, I'll take you shopping. How does that sound?"

"That sounds great, Mom." I sat down in the chair closest to the bed and she adjusted the angle so she could see me easily. Jill hadn't moved, her head still back and her mouth partway open. I racked my brain for something I could talk to my mother about. "I bought a dress recently you might like."

"Did you? Tell me about it."

"Oh, I can do better. I have a photo." I took out my phone and flipped to one of the photos of me trying the blue ball gown on. One of the "clean" photos, of course.

"Oh, darling! It's lovely! What was the dress for, though?" A sly smile spread across her face. "You met someone, didn't you?"

That was the problem with talking. It led to more talking and more talking. I was out of the habit of lying, and, well, if we were going to bring her into the present, she needed to be told the truth about as much as possible, I supposed.

"I did meet a man," I said.

"Ooh, a man. You must be serious about this one, KayKay. Usually you tell me you met a guy."

"He's different from the others."

"What's his name?"

"James. I met him in New York."

"What is he like?"

"He's tall, well dressed..."

"Well heeled?"

"Um, yes."

She gave a little squeal of delight. "How wonderful! What's the point of going to a big city like that unless you can meet someone?"

"Well, Mom, the city has a lot to offer. Art museums, culture, restaurants..."

She clucked her tongue. "All those things are better enjoyed with a partner, dear."

"I... suppose that's true."

"So he's cultured? He takes you places?"

I couldn't help but blush. "Yes. In a private car. He has his own chauffeur."

"Goodness, Karina. Are you worried he's out of your league, though?"

"No, Mom, I'm not worried about that." I wasn't about to tell her I was contemplating cutting him off for good. The red haze of rage I felt when thinking about how he'd hidden things from me couldn't be healthy for a relations.h.i.+p, could it? Besides, she looked so happy for me right now. Sticking to good news seemed the right plan for the moment.

"So when can I meet him?" My mother's hands flew to her hair then. "Oh goodness, but not looking like this. When are they going to let me go home where I can do my hair properly? I have to make a better impression than this." She clucked her tongue again. "My ankle feels much better. They have to let me go soon."

"They want to make sure everything is healed up so you don't end up right back here again," I said. "I should... Oh, here's a doctor now."

A dark-skinned man in blue scrubs came in. "Are you Karina? Jill told me to be expecting you. I'm Dr. Mukherjee." I stood up and he shook my hand. Jill shook herself and stood up, too, and exchanged handshakes with the doctor as well. He then said to my mother, "Mrs. Casper, how are you today? I'm going to borrow your daughters for a minute and we'll be right back."

His hair was thinning a little, but he didn't look that old, maybe forty.

We followed him into the hallway. He turned to Jill. "How's her memory today?"

Jill shrugged. "She's been asleep most of the day and I really haven't been pus.h.i.+ng the issue."

"She seemed pretty together just now," I said, "though for all I know she still thinks I'm in college. Doctor, yesterday she acted like she didn't even know who Jill was. Is that normal?"

"Well, as she reorients herself, it may be quite literally as if she is moving herself forward in time. She will probably never recover the memory of the trauma itself, but she may be working her way forward in her memories up until then."

Jill nodded. "She thought I was Aunt Tera when I first got here."

"She might have thought you were her sister," he said, "then when Karina appeared, that triggered her to jump forward a bit more. Is there anyone from her current life who's important to her who might trigger memories that are more recent?"

"Um." I exchanged a glance with Jill.

"We're concerned that her boyfriend might be the one who pushed her down the stairs," Jill said.

"Yes, you had mentioned that to me before." Dr. Mukherjee s.h.i.+fted back and forth from his toes to his heels. "All I can say is we've doc.u.mented her injuries in case it should come up, and while she's here, she's in our care. But I don't think we should keep her longer than necessary. If she seems competent to leave tomorrow, I think she should go home. Her wrist should heal normally. Her ankle will be a little tender, and her ribs, too, but by noon tomorrow she really should be fit to go home. Mentally she may be behind the times, but she seems competent enough to be able to function in her own home."

"At least going home will make her happy," I said.

"But it'll make it harder to keep Phil away from her," Jill said. "Doctor, you have to understand, I think this guy is trying to pull a snow job. If she's susceptible, or suggestible, I worry he could convince her of things that aren't even true."

"I understand. But without a compelling medical reason to keep her in the hospital, we don't have many options. We also need the s.p.a.ce for other patients."

"I see. Is there anything else we can do to... bring her up to date?"

"She is gradually building her view of the world, incorporating details from things you say, trying to fill in the missing pieces. So anything you can tell her that can help with that, about the current lives of family or friends, would be great. If she resists, if she refuses to believe something? Right now, let the subject drop. It'll sink in eventually and-"

He broke off as Jill's phone chimed and she pulled it from her pocket to silence it, a bit red-faced. Signs asking people to turn their phones off were hung several places nearby.

"Um, I have to go make a call," she said. She hurried toward the exit.

As soon as she was out of sight, I pressed Dr. Mukherjee on the issue. "Will Mom eventually start believing that Jill's Jill, though? I mean, it's one thing to act like I haven't broken up with the boyfriend she liked and keep asking about him six months later, and entirely another thing to not recognize your own daughter."

"Well, I am a neurologist, not a psychiatrist," he said. "I think she may know that Jill is your sister, but something doesn't seem right to her so she's coping by sort of faking her way through. Do you see what I mean? Because of her confusion, there are various things about her world she hasn't incorporated or doesn't accept. Give it time. Try to be patient. Do you have any other questions for me before we go back in?"

I didn't. I went back into the room with him and sat on the other side of the room watching while he examined my mother.

I looked up suddenly as a snippet of a familiar song played from the television mounted on the wall above my head. I turned to see a Lord Lightning video on the screen. My breath caught. He was wearing a mask over his eyes, but the curve of his ear and his long, graceful neck were recognizable as James. I wanted to nibble the muscles of that neck, lick the sweat glistening there.

I cursed myself for reacting that way to a mere glimpse of him. What would happen when we were in the same room, together? Was I going to roll over and beg if he told me to? It was like he had me trained.

Yes, Karina, trained, I reminded myself. But I was the one who walked away this time. I wasn't going to come if he called.

The image cut to a female news anchor or talk show host. I wasn't sure which.

"Rumor has it that Lord Lightning may not be done after all," she said. "Word from our sources is that the mysterious rocker might perform again, despite previous claims of retirement."

The screen then showed Chandra, the willowy African American woman I recognized from the time I had met her at James's doctor's office, who as far as I knew was a member of James's staff. The camera crew had ambushed her on the street outside Rockefeller Center. "No, no," she was saying. "At this time our only plan is for the release of the greatest hits alb.u.m. Lord Lightning is retired."

"But what about reports that LL Productions has secured a Las Vegas theater? The same one where Bride of the Blue was perfor-"

"I don't know anything about that," Chandra said coldly. "Now if you'll excuse me-"

They cut to another excerpt from a video while the host talked about Bride of the Blue. This one had him stalking directly toward the camera, through a large group of dancers miraculously parting as he went, then falling to the ground behind him, into moves done in pairs that were artful imitations of s.e.x. As he reached the front of the stage, his face filling the screen, he tugged down the gold-lensed sungla.s.ses he was wearing and stared into the camera.

I felt that stare go straight down my spine. Meanwhile, in the back of my head, I wondered who his ch.o.r.eographer was. Bride of the Blue? In the rush to leave England to get here, I hadn't had time to talk to Becky. I needed to get her take on the whole Ferrara Huntington/LeStrange thing. This had to be part of what James had alluded to in his letter, about thinking his business was done, but it wasn't.

All I knew for sure was that there was a woman claiming to be James's wife chasing him through the streets of London, and that Stefan hadn't hesitated to get James away from her as quickly as possible. Paulina and Michel had been skeptical of the marriage claim, but there hadn't been time to find out everything they knew or suspected before I had to rush here.

I wished I could talk to Stefan. He would surely know the entire story.

Wait. Hadn't James said that Stefan still kept his old phone? I pulled out my own and texted: Stefan? Are you there?

My heart sped up when almost immediately the phone vibrated in my hand.

Yes, Karina. I am here. Call me if you need anything.

Dr. Mukherjee didn't seem to notice I was using my cell phone. They probably didn't mean to keep people from texting, I rationalized. Perhaps it was only in relation to people talking on the phone, disturbing the patients.

I texted back. I'm in Ohio. My mother had an accident and I had to fly straight here. Are you still in England?

No. We arrived in New York this morning.

I hit him with one more question. Are you alone? Can you talk?

Stefan knew exactly what I meant by my questions. He is not here. He is in a meeting and I am in the car.

I slipped out of the room. I went down the hall and out the door. Apparently, Jill had gone out a different exit to make her phone call because she was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she was in the car.

I dialed Stefan.

He picked up on the first ring. "Karina. Are you all right? Is your mother all right?"

"I'm fine. My mother is recovering, at least. Hey, you must be jet-lagged."

"Coffee is my friend," he said. "But you didn't call to discuss my lack of sleep."

"No. I called to discuss Ferrara Huntington."

There was silence on his end of the line.

"Come on, Stefan. You took off like a bat out of h.e.l.l when you saw her outside the gallery in London. What's her deal? Why is James so afraid of her?" Please tell me it's not the same reason he was afraid of me, I prayed suddenly. Why could I see now so clearly that I had asked him the one thing that was guaranteed to make him run away? When at the time it had seemed like the only reasonable thing to do?

Because if he wouldn't tell you who he was, then it was time for you to walk away, said a little voice in my head. But you know now...

"That woman is a snake and a terror," Stefan said, almost whispering. "She's the wife of... well, the ex-wife, I mean, of the record company executive who signed him to his first recording contract. They were a sort of notorious couple. She was supposedly the one with the eye for talent. Her husband was the one with the business ac.u.men."

"So she's the one who made James famous?"

"That's one way to put it, yes."

"Then, what's up with her claiming they're married?"

"That... is a problem."

"So they are married?" My voice went up a notch.

Stefan sounded offended. "He certainly claims that they are not! And I will give you one guess which one of them I believe!"

"All right. But he said he was hiding from her. If her claims are spurious, why hasn't he come out and said so?"

"You know how he is, Karina. Can you imagine if they had to go to court? His face would be everywhere and all kinds of private details would come out. Depositions enter public record. I think she's blackmailing him, plain and simple."

"What does she want?"