David Bell - Never Come Back

“No, no, no,” he said. “That’s not true. No way.”

“I know,” I said. “I’m with you.”

But he didn’t hear anything else I had to say.

“No,” he said. “This woman is a liar. None of this is possible. None of it.”

On the day of Ronnie’s discharge, I went to St. Vincent’s with Paul. There were papers to sign—lots of papers—and follow-up appointments to arrange. When all of that was finished, we began the long waiting process. Ronnie, like all the other patients, no matter their condition, had to be taken out of the hospital in a wheelchair. Strangely, the hospital didn’t have enough wheelchairs to facilitate the release of all its patients. So we waited. And we waited.

At one point, Paul left to use the restroom. I leaned close to Ronnie and said, “You knew we had another sister, didn’t you?”

He nodded. His skin looked a little pallid, and he’d lost some weight. But I saw the same life in his eyes he always had.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked. “I thought we were buddies.”

“Mom told me not to,” he said.

“Figures,” I said.

“She said she wanted to tell you,” he said. “She told me, ‘Ronnie, no surprises.’ So I kept my mouth shut.”

“Right. Mom didn’t like surprises. She sure sprung them on us, didn’t she?”

Ronnie wouldn’t say anything bad about Mom, even as a joke. He changed the subject. “Where is Eliz—I mean, Beth? Where is she?”

“She’s coming over tonight,” I said. “Once we’re home and you’re settled in, she wants to see you. She’s been worried about you.”

“With her family?” Ronnie asked.

“Yes. She has a big one. It’s not like our family.”

Ronnie seemed to consider this for a moment. “Mom said her family is our family now. Do you think that?”

I’d been thinking about it. And I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. No surprises. A sister. Nieces and nephews. Their children. It was a lot to take on. “I guess so,” I said. “I guess we’ll all have to get used to each other.”

“A lot of change,” Ronnie said.

“Yes. But we’ll be in the old house. You can be back in your old room. It’s just the way you left it.”

Paul came back into the room just then. He told us that he had seen an orderly in the hallway, and Ronnie was the next to go as soon as a wheelchair became available.

Ronnie shrugged, as if to say, I’ve heard it all before. Then his eyes opened wide, as though he just remembered something. “How are you going to go to school and stay with me?” he asked.

“I’ve worked it all out,” I said. “I’m withdrawing from my classes this semester.”

“You can’t quit,” Ronnie said.

“I’m not quitting,” I said. “Don’t worry. I’m just taking the rest of this semester off while we all try to get back to normal. I’ll figure out the next step around the holidays.”

“I don’t want you to quit school,” Ronnie said.

“She won’t,” Paul said. “Don’t worry.”

But Ronnie’s brow was still furrowed. I knew he tended to worry. He hated to upset people. He obviously felt a lot of guilt about the issues he’d had with Mom. I didn’t want anything else added to that.

I put my hand on his arm. “Ronnie, this is the best way. I’m happy about it.”

He looked at both of us. Paul and me. His entire support system.

“What is it?” Paul asked.

“Is it safe?” Ronnie asked. “You said the man who killed Mom is still out there. He hasn’t been arrested.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. It had been two days since the police came to Dan’s apartment and explained everything to me, offering their assurances that Gordon Baxter was probably gone. And there had been no sign of him at Dan’s apartment or mine. Nor in Reston Point, where Beth lived. No one had seen or heard from him. Neal’s wounds were healing, and he too would soon be released from the hospital. Gordon Baxter faced a murder charge as well as two attempted murder charges. Why would he stay? And if he did, what could any of us give him?

“Ronnie, are you sure you don’t remember that man coming into your room and giving you some pills?” I asked.

“I don’t, “he said. “I don’t remember any of that day.”

“It’s okay Ronnie. And it’s safe,” I said. I mostly believed it. “The police are going to arrest that man. And we’ll be careful. I promise.”

“And you can come visit my house anytime you want,” Paul said. “We still need to take that fishing trip, right?”

Ronnie looked slightly relieved. Some of the nervousness left his eyes.

I hoped I was managing to hide the nervousness that remained in mine.

Mom’s house felt less haunted by her memory when we all arrived. I didn’t know whether it was because enough time had passed since I had been there or because I was going with Ronnie and Paul. Did our small little group bring comfort and ward off the bad memories? Would it be a different story in the middle of the night when I was staring at the ceiling cracks at three a.m.?

Ronnie was the calmest of the three of us. He went right to his room and checked all his drawers as well as the closet. He pulled the photo of Mom with Beth’s grandchildren out of his bag and put it back on the shelf. Satisfied that everything was in place, he stretched out on the bed and picked up one of his crossword puzzle books and a pencil. When I checked on him again, his eyelids looked heavy and his chin was sinking down to his chest.

“Tired?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“You can take a nap,” I said. “You probably didn’t sleep much in the hospital.”

“I didn’t.”

“Can I ask you something, Ronnie?”

“Sure.”

Maybe now wasn’t the right time, but I wanted an answer.

“Why did you confess to killing Mom? Why did you say that, when it wasn’t true?”

He took a long time to answer. I thought he might not say anything. Finally he spoke. “I felt bad. I did hurt her by not listening to her. I wasn’t as good as I should have been. I wasn’t as patient. And I wanted the police to go away and leave me alone.”

“You felt guilty even though you weren’t.”

He nodded.

“Paul told me something once,” I said. “He told me that Mom knew I loved her no matter how we were getting along. That’s true of you too.”

He looked at me, his eyelids heavy. “Thanks, sis.”

“I’m glad you’re home,” I said.

His eyes closed all the way. I left the door slightly ajar and went out to the living room to talk with Paul. He was sitting on the edge of the couch holding a glass of water. His legs were crossed, his foot bouncing in the air like a man waiting for a delayed flight.

He started to stand when I came into the room.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

He set the water on the coffee table. “I thought I’d let you two get settled,” he said. “I’m sure you’re both tired.”

“I am tired. But it’s nice having you around.”

He nodded, his face blank.

“Are you okay?” I asked. “Is it difficult for you to be in the house?”

“It’s weird,” he said. “I associate this place so closely with Leslie. With everything that happened, really.”

“I know.”

“Can I convince you to come to my house?” he asked. “There’s room. We can work something out.”

“Do you think it’s dangerous here?” I asked. “Really?”

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Gordon Baxter is capable of anything. I don’t know that my house is safer than anyplace else.”

“Do you think he’d hurt you?” I asked.