Jonathan Kellerman - Silent Partner

“I understand,” I said.

She said, “Thank you,” and kissed me again.

“Then what?”

“Then he held me till I was calm. Stretched me out on the floor and let me lie there and put me deeper in hypnosis. Then he told me to open my eyes, reached into his shirt pocket- I can still see it: he was wearing a red silk shirt- and handed me a snapshot. Two little girls. Me and another me. He said to look on the back, he’d written something there. I did: S and S, Silent Partners . He said that was my catechism, my healing mantra. And the photo was my icon- he’d gotten it for me to keep. When in doubt or troubled, I should use it, fall into it. Then he told me to fall into it then and there and began telling me about the other girl. That her name was Sherry. She’d been his patient for years, long before he met me. The first time he saw me, he thought it was her. Meeting both of us was a miracle- miraculous karma- and his goal in life since then had been reuniting us into a functioning unit. A family.”

“How long had he kept her existence from you?”

“Just a short time. He couldn’t tell me about her until she agreed. She was his patient- everything was confidential.”

“But to get her to agree, he must have told her about you .”

She frowned, as if working on a difficult puzzle. “That was different. Ours was a supervision therapy- he viewed me as a fellow professional, thought I could handle it. It had to start somewhere, Alex. Breaking the circle.”

I said, “Of course. How did she react to learning about you?”

“At first she refused to believe him, even after he showed her a copy of the photo. Claimed it was trick photography, took a long time to accept the fact that I existed. Paul told me she’d been raised without love, had trouble bonding. Looking back, I realize he was warning me, right from the beginning. But I was in no state to consider negative input. All I knew was that my life had changed- magically. Triplets , the empty vessel filled .”

“Two out of three,” I said.

“Yes, a moment later I realized that and asked about my other partner. He said we’d gone far enough, ended the session. Then he served me herb tea and a light dinner, had Suzanne give me a massage, drove me home and told me to try on my new identity.”

“Home,” I said. “Who gave you the house?”

“Paul did. He told me it was a rental property of his that no one was using and he wanted me to live in it- I needed a new place for my new life. This one was perfect for me, harmonious, in synchrony with my vibrations.”

“Same with the car?”

“My little Alfa- wasn’t that a cute car? It finally gave out last year. Paul said he’d bought it for Suzanne but she couldn’t learn to drive a stick shift. He said after everything I’d been through, I deserved a little fun in my life so he was giving it to me. It wasn’t till later, of course, that I learned he’d been serving as a conduit- but he did put everything together, so in a sense, everything did come from him.”

“I can see that,” I said. “What happened once you got home?”

“I was exhausted. The sessions had taken a lot out of me. I got into bed and slept like a baby. But that night I woke up in a cold sweat, panicky, having another anxiety attack. I wanted to call Paul, was too shaky to dial the phone. Finally I managed to breathe myself calm, but by then my mood had changed- I was really depressed, didn’t want to speak with anyone. It was like falling head-first into a bottomless well- falling endlessly. I got under the covers, trying to escape. For three days I didn’t dress or eat or get out of bed. Just sat staring at that snapshot. The third day was when you found me. When I saw you I went crazy. I’m sorry, Alex. I lost control.”

She touched my cheek.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “Long forgotten. What happened after I left?”

“I stayed that way for a while. Some time later- I’m really not sure how long it was- Paul came by to see how I was doing. He cleaned me up, dressed me, and took me back to his place. For a week I did nothing but relax, stayed up in my… in a room there. Then we had another session, even deeper hypnosis, and he told me about the separation.”

“What did he tell you?”

“That we’d been put up for adoption at birth and wrenched apart at three because Sherry kept trying to hurt me. He said it wasn’t the right way to handle it, but that our adoptive mother had problems of her own, couldn’t handle both of us. She liked Sherry more, so I was given away.”

She’d taken pains to speak in an offhand voice, but something raw and frigid had come into her eyes.

“What is it?” I said.

“Nothing. Just the irony. She lived like a princess all her life, but her soul was impoverished. I ended up being the lucky one.”

“Did you ever meet Mrs. Blalock?”

“No. Not even at the party. Why should I? She was a name to me- not even a face. Someone else’s mother.”

I gazed at the plastic walls of the dome and said nothing. Let my eyes rest on the husk in the next bed.

“When did Paul tell you about partner number two?”

“Third session, but there wasn’t much to tell. All he knew was that she’d been born disabled, was institutionalized somewhere.”

“Someone filled you in. Uncle Billy?”

“Yes.”

“The handsome paternal lawyer?”

“After all these years, you remember? Amazing.” Trying to sound pleased, but edgy. “As a matter of fact, Uncle Billy always wanted to be a lawyer. He even applied to law school, but he got caught up with other things and never went.”

“When did he come into the picture?”

“The second time Paul sent me home. Maybe a week after we… parted. I was doing much better, putting things in perspective. The doorbell rang. An older man with a beautiful smile was standing there. With candy and flowers and a bottle of wine. He said he was the brother of the woman who’d given me away- he apologized for that, said I shouldn’t hate her, though he understood if I did. That she was an inadequate person but he’d always looked after me. Both as an uncle and an emissary of my father.”

She looked over at the empty bed. “Then he told me who my father was.”

I said, “How’d it feel learning you were Leland Belding’s heir?”

“Not as strange as you’d think. Of course I’d heard of him, knew he was a genius and rich, and it was strange finding out we were related. But he was dead, gone, no chance for any connection. I was more concerned with living ties.”

She hadn’t answered the question. I let it pass. “How did Uncle Billy chance to find you?”

“Paul had traced my roots and found him . He said he’d wanted to meet me for years, had been unsure of what to say or do and stayed away out of fear of doing the wrong thing. Now that the cat was out of the bag, he wanted me to hear everything from the source.

“I told him I knew about Sherry and we talked a little about her- I could tell he wasn’t fond of her, but he didn’t push it and I didn’t challenge him. I wanted to know about my other sister, about my roots. We sat there and drank wine and he told me everything- how the three of us were the love children of Mr. Belding and an actress whom he’d loved very much but couldn’t marry for social reasons. Her name was Linda. She died of childbirth complications. He showed me a picture. She was very beautiful.”

“An actress,” I said. When she didn’t react, I said, “You look like her.”

“That’s quite a compliment,” she said. “We were also miracle children- premature, tiny at birth, and not expected to live. Linda became sick, with septicemia, but she never stopped thinking about us, praying for us. She named us just minutes before she died. Jana, Joan, and Jewel Rae- that’s me. And though we all made it, Joan had multiple deformities. Despite being rich and powerful, Mr. Belding was in no position to raise her- or any of us. He was painfully shy- actually phobic about people, especially children. From what Uncle Billy described, a bit agoraphobic as well. So Uncle Billy had us adopted by his sister. He’d thought she’d turn out to be a better mother than she did. All these years both he and Mr. Belding felt tremendously guilty about letting us go.