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Amanda didn’t answer. Instead an annoyingly cool, female voice said, “You’ve reached Amanda Forsythe. Leave a message with the front desk.” She was beeped back to the same cool voice, the receptionist, who took Zora’s name and number and then disconnected. Zora sat tensely for about ten minutes, then couldn’t stand it any longer, so she called Ellie. She still had her cell number from the reunion but had never used it. She was gratified and a little taken aback when Ellie answered with an abrupt, “Ellie O’Brien.”
“Hi, Ellie. It’s Zora. I just saw on the news about Tanner and . . . and . . .”
And she abruptly burst into tears.
“I’m going to go see him,” Ellie said, ignoring her sniffling. “I tried today and failed, but they won’t keep me out tomorrow. Amanda said you had connections.”
“Well . . . um . . . I’m going to ask Brian, but . . .”
“Don’t count on it?” Ellie guessed. “Fine. I’ll figure it out.”
She sounded so sure of herself that Zora said, “I want to go with you. Please. Don’t say no.”
Ellie made a disparaging sound that might have been a hushed swear word, but then she muttered something kind of condescending about Amanda beneath her breath before saying she would talk to her, then abruptly hung up. Even though high school and the Five Firsts were long over, Zora couldn’t help thinking about how commandeering Ellie was, especially si
nce she hadn’t been part of their clique. She wondered what Amanda thought of her attitude.
Around 5:00 p.m., Brian stumbled out of his office—what the hell did he do in there all day anyway?—while the news replayed the story about Tanner. He looked from the TV to her accusingly. “You didn’t tell me?” he questioned.
“I just found out,” she lied.
“Sweet Jesus,” he muttered, and she watched the color drain from his skin.
“I know. It’s just terrible.” She paused, then added, “We’re going to try to get in to see him tomorrow.”
“Who’s we?”
“Ellie and Amanda and me.”
“Leave the man be. If he’s going to recover, he doesn’t need an entourage hovering over him.”
This was about as cold and unfeeling as Brian ever got. “If he’s going to recover?” she repeated, aghast.
“It’s what they’re not saying that makes it sound dire.”
“Well, he’s not going to die! Tanner? No!”
He turned to gaze at her, and she thought she saw a flash of contempt in his eyes. Contempt of her? He was the one who never did anything. The one closeted in his office. The one who would barely touch her anymore. From all their early frantic lovemaking, they’d gone to being polite strangers. God, it was difficult to find a good man. Most of them were flat-out losers. “I was going to ask if you could call the Rawlings and ask if you could get us in . . .” She knew Gene Rawling was on the hospital board.
Brian shook his head and snorted, then stalked back to his office. Burned, Zora tiptoed to his closed door. She could hear murmuring and surmised he was on the phone. Edging closer, she pressed an ear to the panels.
“. . . I don’t know! God, it could be a drug addict, not, not . . . No! . . . No, it’s no one who . . . I’m just saying, it’s just bad, bad luck. I hope he’s okay. I hope he gets better and he can tell us what happened . . . Of course, I mean it. And I know it’s got nothing to do with anything else . . . You worry too much. I—”
Zora leaned so far forward that she half-fell into the door with a soft thud. As she collected herself, the door swung rapidly inward, and Brian stood on the other side, glaring at her. His cell phone was still in his hand, but the screen was dark.
“I thought we were going to go shopping this afternoon,” she said lamely. Brian never went with her, unless it was to see old friends. He still kept up with Anne Reade, and she had a feeling maybe that’s who’d been on the cell.
“No.” He was abrupt. Then, maybe hearing himself, he said, “Why don’t you go? I’m just going to stay here and keep an eye on the news.”
“You’re really worried about Tanner?” she asked in a small voice. She’d just assumed Tanner would recover, but clearly Brian didn’t feel the same way.
“Aren’t you? Based on the reporting?”
He was looking at her as if she’d come from another planet. “Well, of course I am. I just don’t know who would do that. Maybe . . . maybe someone after drugs? From the clinic?”
“Did you hear me talking on the phone? That’s what I said.”
“Who were you talking to?”
