Jonathan Kellerman: Obsession

Smiling at me. “You’re not allowed to be angry, right?”

“What would I be angry about?”

“If I wasn’t totally up front-okay, let me just get it out. The real reason I’m here is that you work with that detective-Dr. Silverman’s significant other. I would’ve gone straight to Dr. Silverman but I really don’t know him that well and you were my therapist so I can tell you anything.” Deep breath. “Right?”

“You want me to put you in contact with Detective Sturgis.”

“If you think he can help.”

“With…?”

“Investigating,” she said. “Finding out exactly what happened.”

“The ‘terrible thing’ your mother confessed.”

“It wasn’t a confession, more like…there was drive there, Dr. Delaware. Drive and determination. Exactly the way Mommy got when a problem needed to be solved. You’re thinking I’m being ridiculous, she was sick, her brain was impaired. But as sick as she was, she clearly wanted me to focus.”

“On the terrible thing.”

She blinked. “My eyes itch. May I have a tissue, please?”

Swiping her lids, she exhaled.

Blanche’s flews billowed.

Tanya looked down at her. “Did she just imitate me?”

“Think of it as empathy.”

“Whoa. She’s the perfect psychologist’s dog.” Sudden smile. “When does she get her own Ph.D.?”

“ You talk to her,” I said. “She wants to be an attorney.”

When she stopped laughing, she said, “What was that? Comic relief?”

“Think of it as a pause for air.”

“Yes…so may I tell you exactly what happened?”

That’s what they pay me for.

I said, “I’m listening.”

“The second week was all about pain,” she said. “That was everyone’s focus except Mommy’s.”

“Hers was…”

“Getting stuff done. What she called putting her ducks in a row. At first, it upset me. I wanted to take care of her, tell her how much I loved her, but when I started to do that she’d cut me off. ‘Let’s talk about your future.’ Saying it slowly, gasping, struggling, and I’m thinking it’s a future without her .”

“Maybe that distracted her from the pain.”

The muscles around her eyes shivered. “Dr. Michelle-the anesthesiologist-had her hooked up to a morphine drip. The idea was to give her a constant flow, so she’d experience as little discomfort as possible. Most of the time she turned it off. I overheard Dr. Michelle tell a nurse she had to be suffering but there was nothing he could do. Do you remember how totally obstinate she could be?”

“She had definite opinions.”

“Ducks in a row,” she said. “She lectured and I had to take notes, there were so many details. It was like being in school.”

“What kind of details?”

“Financial. Financial security was a big thing for her. She told me about a trust fund she’d set up for my education when I was four. She thought I had no idea but I used to hear her talking to her broker over the phone. I pretended to be amazed. There were two life insurance policies with me as the sole beneficiary. She was proud of paying off the house, having no debts, between my job and the investments I’d be able to pay the property taxes and all the routine bills. She ordered me to sell my car-actually quoted me the blue-book value-and to keep hers because it was newer, would require less maintenance. She spelled out exactly how much I could spend per month, told me to get by with less if I could help it but always to dress well, appearances counted. Then there were all the phone numbers: broker, lawyer, accountant, plumber, electrician. She’d already contacted everyone, they were expecting to hear from me. I had to be in charge of my own life, now, and she expected I’d be mature enough to handle it. When she got to the part about selling her clothes at a garage sale or on eBay, I started crying and begged her to stop.”

“Did she?” I said.

“Tears always worked with Mommy. When I was little I took advantage of that.”

“All that planning for your future had to be overwhelming.”

“She’s going on about property tax and I’m like, ‘Soon, she’s not going to exist .’ It empowered her, Dr. Delaware, but it was tough. I had to recite back what I’d learned, like a pop quiz.”

“Knowing you understood was a comfort for her.”

“I hope so. I only wish we could’ve spent more time…that’s selfish, the key is to focus on the person who’s suffering, right?”

That sounded like a quote from a book.

“Of course.”

She hugged herself with one hand, kept the other on Blanche. Blanche licked her hand. Tanya started crying.

Pulling her hair loose, she freed a blond mane that she shook violently before reknotting and jamming in the chopsticks.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll get to the point. It was Friday night. I got to the hospital later than usual, because I had organic chem lab and a lot of studying. Mommy looked so weak, I couldn’t believe the change since the morning. Her eyes were shut, her skin was greenish gray, her hands were like packages of twigs. The fan rags were piled up all around her, it looked like she was being swallowed by paper. I started straightening. She opened her eyes and whispered something I couldn’t hear so I put my ear close to her mouth.”

Twisting a chopstick. “At first I couldn’t even feel her breath and I pulled away, panicked. But she was looking straight up at me, the light was still on inside. Do you remember her eyes? How sharp and dark they were? They were like that then, Dr. Delaware-focused, staring up at me, she was moving her lips but they were so dry she couldn’t get the sound out. I wet a towel and she made a little kissy pucker and I bent and she touched her lips to my cheek. Then somehow she managed to push up with her head to get closer so I leaned down farther. She got one hand behind my neck and pressed. I could feel her I.V. tubing tickling the back of my ear.” She looked away. “I need to walk around.”

Placing Blanche on the floor, she stood. Blanche trotted over and settled in my lap.

Tanya crossed the room twice, then returned to her chair but remained on her feet. A hank of hair fell loose, blocking one eye. Her chest heaved.

“Her breath was like ice. She started talking again-gasping the words. What she said was, ‘Did bad.’ Then she repeated it. I said you could never do anything bad. She hissed so loud it hurt my ear, said, ‘ Terrible thing, baby,’ and I could feel her face tremble.”

Stretching the corners of her eyes, she let go, took a deep breath. “This is the part I didn’t tell you over the phone. She said, ‘ Killed him. Close by. Know it. Know .’ I’m still trying to figure it out. There were no men in her personal life, so it couldn’t mean close as in a relationship. The only other thing I can think of is she was being literal. Someone who lived near us. I’ve been racking my brains to see if I can remember some neighbor dying in a weird way, and I can’t. Just before I came to see you, we were living in Hollywood and I remember hearing sirens all the time and once in a while some drunk would knock on the door, but that’s it. Not that I’d ever believe she could ever hurt someone deliberately.”

She sat down.

I said, “You don’t know what to believe.”

“You think this is totally crazy. I did, too. I resisted dealing with it. But I can’t let go of it. Not because of my tendencies. Because Mommy wanted me to learn the truth. That’s what she meant by ‘Know it.’ It was important to her that I understand because the whole last week she was ordering my future and this was part of it.”