Tess Gerritsen - Bloodstream

It was a picture of a white farmhouse with daffodils nodding in the front yard and a maple tree just beginning to show its spring blush. I’d never had a house with a maple tree. I’d never lived in a town where I could look up at the sky at night and see stars, instead of the glare of city lights.

“They wonder what it’d be like, to live in a small town,” said Lincoln. “A place where no one locks their doors, and neighbors welcome you with casseroles. A place that’s more fantasy than reality, because the small town they imagine doesn’t exist. And the problems they’re trying to leave behind just follow them to their next home. And the next”

Noah told me he didn’t want to come. He told me he’d hate me if I forced him to leave Baltimore, to leave behind all his friends. But you can’t let a fourteen-year-old boy run your life. I’m the parent. I’m in charge. I knew what was good for him, good for both of us.

I thought I did.

“For a while, maybe, it seems to work out,” he said. “A new house, a new town-it keeps your mind off the things you were running away from. Everyone hopes for a new beginning, a chance to make things right. And they think, what better time and place to start a new life than a summer by the lake?”

“He stole a car," she said.

He didn’t respond. She wondered what she’d see in his eyes if she were to turn and look at him now. Surely not surprise; somehow he had already known or guessed that her coming to Tranquility had been an act of desperation.

“It wasn’t the only crime he committed, of course. After he was arrested, I learned about all the other things he’d done. The shoplifting. The graffiti. The break-ins at the neighborhood grocery store. They did it together, Noah and his friends. Three boys who just got bored and decided to add a little excitement to their lives. To their parents’ lives.” She leaned back, her gaze focused on the empty street. Snow was beginning to fall, and as the flakes slithered onto the windshield they melted and slid down like tears on the glass. “The worst part about it was I didn’t know. That’s how little he told me, how completely out of touch I was with my own son.

“When the police called me that night, and told me there’d been an accident-that Noah had been in a stolen car-I told them it was a mistake. My son wouldn’t do something like that. My son was spending the night at a friend’s house. But he wasn’t. He was sitting in the emergency room with a scalp laceration. And his friend-one of the boys-was in a coma. I guess I should be grateful for the fact that my son never forgets to buckle his seat belt. Even in the act of stealing a car.” She shook her head and gave an ironic sigh. “The other parents were as stunned as I was. They couldn’t believe their boys would do such a thing. They thought Noah talked them into it. Noah was the bad influence. What could you expect from a boy who has no father?

“It made no difference to them that my son was the youngest of the three. They blamed it on his lack of a father. And the fact I was too busy working as a doctor, taking care of other peoples’ families, to pay attention to my own.”

Outside the snow was falling more thickly now, blanketing the windshield, cutting off her view of the street.

“The worst part about it was, I agreed with them. I had to be doing something wrong, failing him in some way. And all I could think of was, how could I set things right again?”

“Packing up and leaving home is a pretty drastic measure.”

“I was looking for a miracle. A magic solution. We’d gotten to the point where we hated each other. I couldn’t control where he went or what he did. Worst of all, I couldn’t choose his friends. I could see where it was leading. Another stolen car, another arrest. Another round of useless family counseling…“ She took a deep breath. The windshield was covered by snow now, and she felt buried away, entombed with this man beside her.

“And then,” she said, “we visited Tranquility.”

“When?”

“It was a weekend in fall. A little over a year ago. Most of the tourists were gone, and the weather was still nice. Indian summer. Noah and I rented a cottage on the lake. Every morning, when I woke up, I’d hear the loons. And nothing else. Just the loons, and silence. That’s what I loved most about that weekend, the feeling of complete peace. For once we didn’t argue. We actually enjoyed being together. That’s when I knew I wanted to leave Baltimore…“ She shook her head. “I guess you had me pegged right, Lincoln. I’m like every other outsider who moves to this town, who’s running away from another life, another set of problems. I wasn’t sure where I was going. I only knew I couldn’t stay where I was.”

“And flow?”

“I can’t stay here either,” she said brokenly.

“It’s too soon to make that decision, Claire. You haven’t been here long enough to build up the practice.”

“I’ve had nine months. All summer and fall, I sat in that office waiting for the flood of patients. Almost all I got were tourists. Summer people coming in for a sprained ankle or an upset stomach. When summer was over, they all went home.

And I suddenly realized how few of my patients actually lived in this town. I thought I could hang on, that people would learn to trust me. It might’ve happened in another year or two. But after tonight, there’s no chance of it. I said what I had to say at that meeting and the town didn’t like it. Now my best option is to pack up and leave. And hope it’s not too late to go back to Baltimore.”

“You’re giving up so easily?”

It was a statement designed to provoke. Angry, she turned to look at him. “So easily? And when does it get hard?”

“It’s not the whole town attacking you. It’s a few disturbed individuals. You have more support than you realize?’

“Where is it? Why didn’t anyone else stand up for me at the meeting? You were the only one.”

“Some of them are confused. Or they’re afraid to speak up.”

“No wonder. They could get their tires slashed as well,” she said sarcastically “It’s a very small town, Claire. People here think they know each other, but when you get right down to it, we really don’t. We keep our secrets to ourselves. We stake out our private territory and we don’t let others cross the line. Speaking up at a town meeting is opening ourselves to the public. Most choose to say nothing at all, even though they may agree with you.”

“All that silent support won’t help me earn a living.”

“No, it won’t.”

“There’s no guarantee any patients will walk into my office now?’

“It’d be a gamble, yes.”

“So why should I? Give me one reason why I should stay in this town?”

“Because I don’t want you to leave.”

This was not the answer she had expected. She stared at him, straining to read his expression in the gloom.

“This town needs someone like you:’ he said. “Someone who comes in and stirs things up a little. Who makes us ask ourselves questions we’ve never had the nerve to ask. It would be a loss if you left us, Claire. It would be a loss to us all.”

“So you’re speaking on behalf of the town?”

“Yes.” He paused. And added softly, “And for myself as well.”

“I’m not sure what that means.”

“I’m not sure what it means, either. I don’t even know why I’m saying it. It doesn’t do either of us any good.” Abruptly he grasped the door handle and was about to open it when she reached out and touched his arm. At once he fell still, his hand clutching the door, his body poised to step into the cold.

“I used to think you didn’t like me,” she said.

He looked at her in surprise. “I gave you that impression?”