Linwood Barclay - Broken Promise - A Thriller

“I’ll call down, tell them to bring you some hot.”

“No, please, Mom. I know that whatever you ask them to do, they’ll jump, but I just want to be treated like any other patient.”

Agnes smiled. “You’re not just any other patient. You’re my daughter. And if there was ever a time when I was willing to throw my weight around, it’s now.” She rested a hand on her daughter’s bare arm, inches above her bandaged wrist. “But the truth is, I’m getting you out of here. You’re better off at home than here. It’s a good hospital — no, it’s a great hospital, no matter how some sons of bitches want to rank it — but you’re better off with us.”

“I’d like that,” Marla said weakly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay. The doctor — not Dr. Sturgess, but the psychiatrist? — was in to see me a while ago, and he’s going to give me something.”

“I know. I already have that sorted. Do you feel like you’re going to do anything like that again?”

Marla shook her head. “No, I don’t. I just felt, you know, overwhelmed by everything that was happening at the moment. But the prescription, it’s supposed to help with that.” She put a hand on top of her mother’s. “Really, I won’t do it again.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay, then,” Agnes said cautiously. “That’s good enough for me.”

“Carol was in to see me,” Marla said. “I really like her.”

“I’m lucky to have her. She told me this morning that she’s very worried about you.”

Marla nodded. “That’s what she said. Even though I’ve only met her a few times, she really seems to like me.”

“What about Dr. Sturgess? Has he been in to check on you?”

Marla shook her head. “I haven’t seen him all day.”

“No? Are you sure you hadn’t just nodded off or something?”

“I’m pretty sure. I mean, I’ve been sleepy, but I don’t think he was here.”

Agnes took out her cell phone, called up a contact, tapped. She put the phone to her ear.

“I always thought you weren’t supposed to use a cell phone in the hospital,” Marla said.

“In my hospital, I can do whatever I damn well please. You— Damn, it’s gone to message.” She chose not to leave one and put the phone away. “Just a second.”

Agnes left the room and walked up to the nurses’ station. “Has Dr. Sturgess been by?” she asked.

No one had seen him.

Agnes returned to Marla’s bedside. “Okay, why don’t we get you dressed.”

“Tell me about it again,” Marla said dreamily.

“Oh, sweetheart, no.”

“Please. It’s so hard for me to remember; it helps when you tell me about it.”

“But, darling, it’s too sad. I just can’t.” Agnes’s eyes began to moisten.

Marla, still sitting up, rested her head on the pillow and looked off in the direction of the ceiling, her eyes not focused on anything in particular.

“It is sad, I know that. But the thing is, I still had a child. A beautiful little girl. And she lived inside me for nine months, and I loved her, and I believe she loved me back. And I mourn her every day. I want to remember her, those few moments I got to hold her. But it’s a memory I have a hard time holding on to.”

“Marla, sweetheart—”

“Please, Mom? I know sometimes it’s even harder for you to talk about than it is for me, but believe me, I like to hear this.”

Agnes took a deep breath through her nose. “I’ll do it, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Marla waited for her mother to begin.

“After the baby came out, the doctor and I... even though we knew its condition, we—”

“Her.”

“I’m sorry?”

“ Her condition. Agatha Beatrice Pickens was never an it .”

Agnes squeezed her daughter’s hand. “Of course she wasn’t. We cleaned Agatha up, wrapped her up tight in a blanket, and we propped some pillows behind your back so you could sit up, and then Dr. Sturgess put Agatha in your arms so you could hold her for a few moments.”

“And tell me what I did,” Marla said.

“You...”

Agnes stopped a moment and turned away, but didn’t take her hand off her daughter. She took another breath and, once composed, continued.

“You looked into Agatha’s face and you said she was beautiful.”

“I bet she was.”

“You said she was the most beautiful child you had ever seen.”

“And then what? I kissed her, didn’t I?”

Agnes closed her eyes. She could barely say the words. They came out in a halting whisper. “Yes, you did.”

“On the forehead?” Marla asked.

“Yes,” Agnes said, opening her eyes.

It was Marla’s turn to close hers. “When I think hard, I think I can taste her. I can remember the feel of her on my lips. And the smell of her. I’m sure I can. And what happened after that?”

“We had to take her away,” Agnes said. “The doctor took her away. And I let you rest.”

“I was very tired. I think I slept for a long time.”

“You did.”

“But you were there when I woke up,” Marla said, and smiled. “I’m sorry about all the trouble I’ve been since then. I know I’m not quite right, that I’ve gone a little crazy.”

“Don’t say that. You’re fine. You’re strong. You’re a good girl and I’m very proud of you. You’re getting your life back on track.”

Marla looked into her mother’s face. “I hope so. I don’t think I’ve given you much to be proud of.”

Agnes leaned over the bed and took her daughter into her arms. “Don’t ever say that. Don’t think that for a minute.”

“But I know,” Marla said, her voice muffled by her mother’s shoulder, “you’ve always been worried about what people think. I know I haven’t lived up to your expectations.”

“Stop it,” Agnes said. “Just stop it.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve told you about my friend. When I was in my teens. My best friend, Vera.”

“Yes, Mom.”

Agnes smiled. “I know. I’ve told you about her many times. About how, when she was twenty-three, and six months from graduating at the University of Connecticut, she got pregnant.”

“I know.”

“I want you to listen. You need to hear this, even if I’ve told you before. It was actually her professor who got her pregnant. Those kinds of things happened back then, professors having affairs with their students. This was before that was seen as inappropriate, before sexual harassment policies. Vera was going to go to medical school after college; she wanted to be a surgeon, but when she got pregnant, everything changed. It was a difficult pregnancy, and she had to withdraw from her courses. And, of course, this professor was hardly going to leave his wife and marry Vera. He tried to get her to end the pregnancy, but her faith wouldn’t permit that. And so she had this child, and was on her own to raise it — her parents pretty much disowned her — and none of her dreams... none of them ever came true. Of course, she wanted to have a baby one day, but this child, it came at the wrong time for her. Her life could have been very different, and my heart aches for her every time I think about her. That baby came at the wrong time for her.”

“Mom, I know...”

“What I’m saying is, I know how sad you must be, how devastating this has been for you. But maybe, I don’t know, maybe this is the way it’s supposed to be for you. It wasn’t the right time. Look at you. These Internet reviews, they might lead to something better, more rewarding. You’re moving forward. What happened last night” — and Agnes glanced at her daughter’s bandaged wrist — “is a bump in the road. A big bump, sure, but a bump in the road. You’re going to be okay. You’re moving ahead.”