Part 25 (1/2)

”I know, I know,” he said.

”Okay,” said Keely, realizing that he was already retreating from her. Her words sounded empty, even to her own ears.I'm doing this wrong,she thought, and felt a flare of panic.I have to break the old patterns. But how?”I . . . I want you to know that I . . . will do better . . .” she promised, and then her voice faltered.

”You do all right, Mom.” He yawned and rotated his head. ”I am tired,” he admitted.

Looking at him now, almost as tall as she was, Keely suddenly remembered how she'd felt when she brought him home as a brand-new baby. In those early days, she had had a fear, which threatened to overwhelm her, that she didn't know what she was doing and that she didn't dare make a big mistake. His new life depended on her not making a mistake. She wanted to tell him, but she could see that he would not want to hear it.

”All right,” said Keely briskly. She could see, by the dark circles under his eyes and the waxiness of his complexion, that Dylan was exhausted. ”I can tell you're tired, so let's just leave it for now. Let's get you up to your room. You can lie down for a while. Listen to your music. I'll bring you some . . . ginger ale.”

”The miracle elixir,” he teased her. ”Mom's cure, no matter what ails you.”

Keely smiled sheepishly. ”It always seems to help,” she said.

”Some ginger ale sounds good,” he said.

Keely picked up his bag, but he wrested it away from her. ”I'm okay, Mom. Really. I don't need you to carry my bag. Or to keep an eye on me. I'll be okay. Don't worry.”

”Are you sure?” she said, and her voice cracked.

Dylan patted her arm awkwardly and nodded. ”Just go get that ginger ale,” he said. ”I can see that the service hasn't improved any around here.”

”Get moving, you,” she said. Her heart seemed to be swelling up inside of her, like a s.h.i.+ning bubble, and she thanked G.o.d for this moment of happiness.

28.

Try those breathing exercises the next time you feel the anxiety start to get to you,” Evan Stover advised the patient who was getting up from the chair in front of his desk. ”It's really a very good way to stop the escalation.”

”I'll try it,” the young man said glumly. He turned back to ask something else, but Dr. Stover pointedly looked at the clock. The young man sighed again and walked over to the door behind the desk, letting himself out. Dr. Stover began to make some notes on the patient's file while the session was fresh in his mind.

There was a timid tapping on the door to his office, and then the receptionist slid inside and closed the door behind her. ”Dr. Stover,” she said, ”I'm sorry. Your next client is here, but the district attorney is outside and she says it's very important that she speak to you right now.”

”Hmmmm . . .” said Dr. Stover. ”When is my next free hour?”

”Six o'clock.”

”All right, reschedule the patient for six and tell Miss Chase I'll see her now.”

The receptionist looked surprised, but she retreated, closing the door softly. Dr. Stover swiveled around and opened a file drawer. He pulled out a worn, yellowed file and glanced into it. Then he placed it on his desk just as Maureen Chase opened the door to the office.

”Maureen,” he said. ”Come in.”

Maureen sat down in the seat recently vacated in front of Dr. Stover's desk. She crossed her legs and pulled her narrow skirt down over her knees. Then she rested her forearms on the arms of the chair.

”To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked.

”I received an unpleasant surprise last night,” she said.

”Oh?” said Dr. Stover.

”A . . . colleague of mine called to tell me that you had approved the release of Dylan Bennett to his mother.”

”That's true.”

”I want to know why you let him go home. I specifically asked you to keep him here. Do you want to tell me why you did that?”

”This is not a prison,” he said. ”It's a hospital. I felt he was well enough and that his mother would be reliable about managing his care.”

”It's my understanding that you had a very negative report from the social worker,” Maureen said.

”Mrs. Erlich,” he said.

”Yes.”

”Is that who called to tell you about Dylan's release?”

Maureen hesitated, surprised by the accuracy of his guess. Mrs. Erlich had heard about Dylan's release from a friend who worked in the hospital pharmacy. She had called Maureen instantly to apprise her of this development and to a.s.sure her that she had made as negative a report as possible after her interview with Keely. Now, facing Evan's keen-eyed gaze, Maureen considered lying or refusing to answer. Then she reminded herself that she must not allow herself to be intimidated by Evan Stover. ”As a matter of fact, it was Mrs. Erlich. She was extremely upset. She wanted me to know that she disagreed most emphatically with your decision.”

Dr. Stover nodded. ”I'm sure she did. And I can a.s.sure you that I took her report under advis.e.m.e.nt. But I also took into account her . . . bias in this case.”

”What bias?”

”Her indebtedness to you. I know all about the Gaskill child and how you went to bat for Mrs. Erlich.”

”She was being blamed unfairly.”

”That may be true. Nevertheless, she owes you her job. And I understand that she could ill afford to lose that job because her husband has kidney disease and they rely heavily on her health-care plan.”

”I don't know anything about that.”

”Maureen . . .” Dr. Stover said, shaking his head.

”Are you insinuating that I am pressuring Mrs. Erlich in some way?” Maureen demanded.

”Maureen, you cannot pretend to be impartial when it comes to Dylan Bennett. You were once engaged to his stepfather.”

Maureen gripped the armrests as if to keep herself seated. ”That information was given to you in confidence.”

”Several people have told me. It's hardly confidential.”

”My relations.h.i.+p with Mark Weaver is not at issue here. We're talking about a kid who is dangerous to others and to himself.”

”We're talking about a troubled boy who has had more than his share of tragedy in his life. And who is very vulnerable right now. Don't you feel any empathy toward him? You, of all people, should understand. Show the boy a little compa.s.sion.”