The Piper

TWENTY-TWO




Teddy had been cheerful that afternoon when Olivia picked her up after school, full of news about Mr Ogden and bringing home a sheet of directions that Olivia was to use for making the rat costume for the school play. Olivia studied the directions nervously. She didn’t sew, wisely giving it up after trying to hem Teddy’s little corduroy overalls, and sewing the little legs together one time too many. Teddy had eaten a good dinner, finished her homework on time, even the math, and had called her daddy on the phone right after her bath, begging for extra reading time after they’d hung up. The evening had been deliciously normal and calm, the only wobble cropping up when Olivia suggested Teddy sleep in her own bed. But she’d looked at the quiver in Teddy’s chin and said never mind.

Olivia took a break from the unpacking. She considered a long hot bubble bath, but decided not to tempt plumbing and fates, and curled up in the living room and watched a dreary and paranoid German movie before she went to bed.

When Olivia headed upstairs, Teddy was asleep with all the lights on – the overhead light, along with the lamp by the bed, and the lamp and the light in the hall. Winston was curled up on the end of the bed, wide awake and keeping watch, when Olivia crept into the room.

She had not chosen the master suite for her bedroom, and she told herself that it was because the smaller room, Emily’s room, had more charm. And that it did – T-shaped, with one dormer window, the ceiling rising into an arch, with a little alcove nook for the bed. The light was good. There were two big windows.

Chris had died in the master bedroom, and Olivia did not like to go in there. She told Teddy they would reserve the master bedroom for guests. Olivia knew that Teddy thought guests meant her daddy, and nothing Olivia said could change Teddy’s mind. She also knew that the reunion fantasy was normal after a divorce. It would all take time.

Teddy was cuddly in pink and yellow pajamas, and she slept soundly, hair damp with sweat and sticking to her forehead. Olivia’s cell phone lay on the bedside table in the event that her daddy might call, and The Ghost of Blackwood Hall was splayed on the side of the bed.

Olivia took the book and set it on the night table. Ghost stories were not the best idea right now. She pulled a blanket up over Teddy’s shoulders, then sat on the edge of the bed, head in her hands, promising herself that she would not be short tempered with Teddy, even when she lied. She would be steady and strong, firm and kind, the perfect mother. She did not really believe in the perfect mothering myth, but that did not stop her from trying, and maybe if she beat her head against the wall in private, she could seem serene and calm when Teddy made her want to scream.

Because the lies unnerved her. Her own little Teddy, standing with her arms folded, defiant in a way reminiscent of her cousin Janet, and lying right to her face. Maybe it was better that Teddy would not be spending the afternoons with her cousins. Maybe Janet was the source of some of this. Teddy was just the age to idolize a teenage cousin – Olivia remembered how captivated she had been by her sister Emily. Her grown up bras. The frosty pink lipstick that Emily used to dab on Olivia’s lips to make her feel grown up too.

Olivia rubbed her eyes. She settled into what she tried not to think of as Hugh’s side of the bed, and Winston crept forward, and stretched out by her side. The door was wide open. She thought about turning the lights off. Changed her mind. Maybe Teddy’s fears were getting to her, but Olivia felt better with the lights on now, and Teddy curled up by her side. She did not want to think about why and she did not expect to sleep.

But sleep was not the problem. The insomnia that had dogged Olivia most of her life seemed to have mysteriously kicked into reverse. The problem now was waking up.

And she needed to do that, to wake up. The dog was barking, and Teddy was restless, crying softly, crying out for Mom. In her dream, Olivia was a little girl again, sitting on the front porch steps, waiting for Emily and Hunter to come home.

Olivia opened her eyes, reaching out instinctively, in a sort of panic, but Teddy was there, in the bed, muttering in her sleep.

‘No, Mommy, don’t touch me, it hurts.’

‘Teddy?’ Olivia was wide awake now, the lamp by her bedside was on the softest setting, but she could see that Teddy was sweating and shivering, her face flushed, fingers pawing the bedspread. Olivia touched her daughter’s cheek, and she didn’t need to go hunting down a thermometer to know the fever was high. Winston had abandoned the bed, and was stretched out on the floor.

When Olivia swung her legs over the side of the bed her bare feet met water. Again. She looked up at the ceiling. Still no leak. Should she call the plumber again and let him see the water? No, she’d just get the dehumidifier. It couldn’t hurt.

The emergency kit of Advil, Band-aids, Ocilla and Robitussin was downstairs in the kitchen. Olivia followed the trail of lights she’d left on in the house, trying not to analyze her relief at finding them just as she had left them. The emergency six pack of Schweppes ginger ale was one of the few things in the pantry, that and a box of saltines. It had only taken one quick and dirty stomach virus during a move years ago to teach Olivia the value of preparing for Teddy to come down sick at awkward moments, as any child might.

Olivia piled everything she might need into a colander, the kind of odd thing that always came up in the first kitchen box one unpacked, then headed up the stairs. They were steep, polished wood, and she held tight to the rail.

There was that bloody dog barking outside again, and now it sounded like it was in her yard. Olivia moved the wood slat aside in the upstairs hall window to take a quick look. And there he was. Pacing beside the backyard fountain. It was too dark to make out much detail, but he seemed to be limping, favoring the back left leg. Olivia wondered if he needed rescuing. If he was a stray. Even from the upstairs window he looked very big. A German shepherd, like Hunter. Olivia had a soft spot for shepherds. Maybe she would adopt him if he didn’t have a home.

‘Mommy.’

‘I’m coming, hon.’

Teddy vomited it all up, the children’s Advil, the child dosage of Ocilla, the tiny bit of ginger ale and cracker Olivia had given her to get the medicine down. After that came the pork chop and rice from her dinner, something unidentifiable that might have been her school lunch, then dry heaves and yellow bile. And the fever did not come down at all, if anything it was worse. Teddy was dehydrated now, shaking with chills, face so white her freckles stood out like noisy brown dots.

Winston paced and moaned in the hallway, and Olivia used a washcloth of lukewarm water to cool her daughter’s skin. Teddy cried at every touch. She began to hold her head very still, and when Olivia asked her if her neck was hurting, Teddy whimpered and whispered yes.

Olivia slid into a pair of jeans, bundled her daughter in a blanket, and half carried, half walked her to the car.

Olivia wanted to take her to the University of Tennessee Medical Center, but Hugh’s insurance meant the ER at St Mary’s. An older hospital, on the other side of town.

Olivia sat on a round stool in an empty ER cubicle, awaiting an audience with the doctor. She felt chilled and vaguely nauseous, fatigue, she knew, the effect of too bright lights, old green walls and a bit of shock. Her daughter was no more than six feet away in the next cubicle, and though Olivia could not make out the words, she could hear the animated rise and fall of her daughter’s voice as she chattered away to a nurse.

When the curtain rings slid aside without warning, Olivia jumped a little, on the edge of her seat. The doctor at last. Olivia felt a sharp flutter in her stomach. Good God. Now she really was home again. The doctor wore dark blue scrubs, and a white coat with a nameplate that confirmed she was indeed Annabelle McClintock, MD.

‘I know you, don’t I?’ Annabelle said. She had the same sallow skin and sharp sideways look that Olivia had tried to forget.

She was as thin as Olivia remembered, arms sinewy with stringy muscles, blonde hair cut short, beautiful, almost violet eyes. Edgy, as always, in constant motion, moving across the room now and straightening the instruments on the table, barely aware she was doing it, as ever OCD.

Olivia gave her a sideways smile. If that was how Annabelle wanted to play it, that would be fine. She wondered if she could ask for another doctor.

‘Olivia. Oh, of course, it’s James now, and Teddy is your little girl? But she’s adorable.’

‘Thank you. No doubt you have several children of your own by now,’ Olivia said. Though she knew better.

Annabelle lost her professional smile, and her handshake was only borderline cordial, fingers thin, limp, and waxy with clinical chill. ‘No, I went the professional route. Vince told me you’d moved back to town. We still talk, you know. We’re very close. Eight years of marriage doesn’t just go away overnight.’

‘About my daughter,’ Olivia said.

‘Right. About your daughter.’ Annabelle consulted her clipboard. ‘She’s fine.’

Olivia noticed that Annabelle’s haircut was quite expensive, and she wore no rings, but the diamond studded earrings looked mighty fine. Olivia decided she’d rather have pearls.

‘I know you were worried about meningitis, but her white blood count is normal. She wasn’t happy about the IV, but she’s fully hydrated now, and her temp is ninety-seven point eight, just a little under normal.’

‘But that’s . . . that’s unbelievable. She was so sick.’

Annabelle leaned against a waist high, stainless steel cabinet, and crossed one foot over the other. She had a professional comfort that Olivia envied. She was likely a very good doctor. One of the rare ones, who had graduated from medical school without any debt.

‘That’s kids for you. One minute they’re sick as a dog, the next they’re playing video games and demanding TV. My guess is a stomach virus. Well, school just started, makes perfect sense. We won’t need to admit her. If the fever comes back, let your pediatrician know because it might be good to dose her with some Tamiflu. The flu swab we took showed negative, though, so I think you’re off the hook on that. My guess is she’s through the worst. Keep her home from school tomorrow just to be on the safe side, and go slow on fluids until you’re sure she’ll keep them down. And I’d also—’

The beeper on her side went off. She checked it absently, then frowned. ‘Can you hold here, just a minute? Someone will bring you some paperwork to sign, and then you can head out.’

Olivia settled back on the stool, and allowed herself to stop worrying. Just a virus, a bad one, gone like magic the way things often went with kids. She missed Hugh, just a little bit. He was good with hospitals and paperwork, and arranging things. If Hugh were here all she’d have to do was worry and hold Teddy’s hand.

Olivia frowned when she heard Annabelle’s voice – she had evidently been called next door to her daughter. Which meant Teddy was sick again. She’d let her guard down too soon. Olivia was up on her feet and around the corner, but Teddy did not look ill, just shy, and Annabelle McClintock was bent over her, talking in a low and urgent voice.

‘What’s going on?’ Olivia said.

Annabelle looked at Olivia over one shoulder, and motioned to a nurse, who refused to meet Olivia’s eyes. ‘I want to finish my conversation with your daughter, Olivia. Can you wait for me in the hall?’

‘No, I can’t. I’m her mother, and I want to know what’s up.’

Annabelle straightened. ‘Maybe you and I should talk in private then. Come with me.’

Annabelle led her down the corridor, no hurried meeting in a curtained cubicle this time. She was led into a small and private office. This meeting would be held behind closed doors.

‘What’s wrong with her?’ Olivia said.

Annabelle tilted her head to one side. ‘Nothing right now, as far as I know. Sit down, Olivia.’

‘What’s the problem here?’

Annabelle pointed at the brown leatherette chair as she settled herself behind the desk. ‘Please.’

Olivia sat because it was silly not to. She put her purse on the floor and waited while Annabelle fingered the stethoscope that hung round her neck. Olivia’s heart was thudding, and she felt very cold. Whatever this was, it could not be good.

‘Your daughter—’

‘Teddy.’

‘Teddy has been saying . . . she’s had a rather disturbing conversation with one of the nurses.’

Olivia clamped her fingers around the edges of the chair. ‘Disturbing how?’

‘The nurse was asking if any of her friends at school had been sick. Your daughter said she hadn’t caught anything from anybody else, because somebody made her sick.’

Olivia sat very still in her chair. ‘Somebody made her sick?’

Annabelle picked up a pencil and rolled it on her hand. ‘That’s what she said. The nurse wrote it up.’ She flipped the paperwork in Teddy’s chart. ‘She said the somebody was mad, and wanted to hurt her because she told on them. And that she was going to get it because she told. According to the nurse, those were her exact words.’ Annabelle McClintock looked at Olivia. ‘Are you the somebody, Olivia? Was Teddy talking about you?’

‘No, of course not. That’s ridiculous.’

‘Who does she mean, then?’

‘I don’t know. Look, we just moved home, and her older cousins have been telling her ghost stories, and she’s been having nightmares. Her father and I got divorced a year ago – I think this is just some kind of adjustment thing.’

‘I see.’

Olivia wondered what Annabelle thought she saw.

‘So lots of pressure for both of you.’ Annabelle rubbed a finger on the edge of the desk. ‘Here’s the thing. Your daughter asked the nurse if she could spend the night at the hospital. You understand we don’t hear that request from kids with IV needles in their arms. All they want is to go home with Mom and Dad. But not Teddy. Teddy said she was afraid to go home. Teddy wants to spend the night here. Can you explain that, Olivia?’

Olivia shook her head. ‘Honestly no, I can’t explain it, it doesn’t make any sense. Unless it’s some extreme form of school phobia. We had that once before, when we moved, and we had to change schools.’

‘I’m at kind of a crossroads here, Olivia. I’m wondering if I should call Child Protective Services. Your daughter, is she prone to telling stories?’

‘You mean lies? Look, Teddy’s a very sweet little girl, who is having a hard time moving two thousand miles away from her father and changing schools for the third time in five years. But if you think she’s in danger, then go ahead and make that call. I’m sure that no one would think you were exercising a grudge because your ex husband and I are dating.’

‘So you and Vince are dating already. Really.’

‘We’re having dinner tomorrow night. My place this time.’

‘He’s going to make you cook? You should make him take you to the North Shore Brasserie.’

‘He did.’

Annabelle went dark red. ‘Look, I’ve got the nurse to back me up. About what Teddy said.’

‘Then do what you have to do. But I’m taking Teddy home right now, and this conversation is over. And by the way, go f*ck yourself. But I guess you’ll be used to that.’