“I’ve got to get ready for a meeting,” Charlotte said. “I’d appreciate if you don’t mention this to your family.”
Why was Liz the repository for everyone’s confidences? She wanted to say something complimentary about Willie, but it was hard to figure out what. When the call had ended, Liz winced, balled her right hand into a fist, and bit her own knuckle.
ON THE THIRD floor, Jane stood in warrior pose, her left leg extended behind her and her arms outstretched. As Liz entered the bedroom, Jane gracefully let her arms return to her sides and said, “Amanda and Prisha want to hire me as their private yoga instructor, and they told me I can live with them for as long as I want, even after the baby comes.”
Though Liz felt some dismay, the plan made sense: Amanda was a college friend of Jane’s, a Barnard graduate who’d made a fortune at a hedge fund before trading corporate life in Manhattan for recreational beekeeping and lucrative, long-distance, part-time consulting from the Hudson Valley. Amanda’s wife, Prisha, was a high school English teacher, and they lived with their eight-year-old son, Gideon, on a bucolic five-acre spread two hours from the city.
“Do you think you’ll tell Mom and Dad you’re pregnant before you leave?” Liz asked.
Jane shook her head. “I want to sit with it a while longer.”
Liz sighed. “Well, there’s something I have to tell you. It turns out Mom and Dad are hugely in debt.” Jane looked aghast, and Liz said, “I know. But it is what it is, and their only choice is to sell the house. You shouldn’t worry, but if you were planning to borrow money from them in the next little while, borrow it from me instead. Just focus on taking care of yourself. The reason I’m telling you is that this could be the last time you’re in the house.”
“I feel terrible. I had no idea.”
“Because you weren’t supposed to. None of us were. Have you bought your plane ticket to New York?”
“For a week from today. Does that mean I’ll miss Jasper?”
“Sorry, but no such luck. He gets to town Wednesday.” Liz leaned against her desk and folded her arms. “So you won’t believe this, but Charlotte and Cousin Willie have been talking on the phone, and now they think they’re in love and she’s going to visit him.”
Liz expected Jane to react with either disgust or amusement, but her sister was serene.
“I can see them as a couple,” Jane said.
AFTER PARKING IN the P3 Garage at Christ Hospital, Liz and her father took the skywalk to Level A, whereupon Mr. Bennet asked the young woman at the information desk for the location of the administrative suite.
“The billing department is that way.” Liz pointed.
“We’re going to see Dick Lucas.”
“But we have an appointment with a financial counselor named Chad Thompson.”
Mr. Bennet’s expression was thoughtful. “Men named Chad make me uneasy.”
“Is Dr. Lucas expecting us?” He held, Liz knew, some sort of executive position at the hospital, though Liz wasn’t sure precisely what it was. She wondered if he was aware of Charlotte’s trip to Palo Alto to see Cousin Willie.
“I assure you Dick won’t turn us away,” Mr. Bennet said.
This turned out to be accurate. In the administrative suite, Mr. Bennet gave his name to the woman at the reception desk, and no more than a minute later, Dr. Lucas appeared in the seating area in a gray suit, a yellow tie dotted with a pattern of tiny blue hummingbirds, and a white coat. “Fred and Liz!” he said in a voice that implied he couldn’t imagine a more pleasurable surprise. “To what do I owe the honor?”
“If we might have a word in private.” Mr. Bennet nodded toward the receptionist.
In Dr. Lucas’s office, Liz and her father sat in chairs facing a massive cherry desk on which rested a gold nameplate that read RICHARD G. LUCAS, VICE PRESIDENT AND CHIEF CLINICAL OFFICER.
“Sally and I have gotten ourselves in a bit of a pickle,” Mr. Bennet said. “Apparently, my stay here earlier in the summer wasn’t all-expenses-paid.”
“Would that it had been,” Dr. Lucas said warmly.
“We’re having a liquidity issue, and Liz here is convinced that if we don’t pay up on time, a shady character will find us and break our kneecaps.”
Dr. Lucas chuckled. “We can’t have that, can we?”
Liz cleared her throat and said, “My dad doesn’t have health insurance.”
Dr. Lucas winced, but still somehow affably. “Tsk, tsk, Fred. I’m no more a fan of our president than you are, but when open enrollment starts, I’d urge you to sign up.”