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Chapter Three
Grace
I’m on five-minute checks.That’s as low as they go.I don’t know what happens below that threshold, but I’m told they increase in five-minute increments with good behavior.I’m still sitting at five because, as the nurse explains, that’s what my orders say.She’s not the same woman who showed me to this room.The nurse says that was an administrator.
There’s an awful lot to learn about who is who and what is what, which is pretty hard to do when you’re confined to one room.I don’t even knowwhowrites the orders, but the nurse assures me everything will get sorted out soon enough.
One can only hope.
In the meantime, every five minutes, a nurse or an orderly will unlock the door, peek his or her head in and call out, “Five minute check.”
I don’t know why they can’t simply look through the small window on the door, but I try not to ask too many questions.They really don’t like that.
Besides, if I were going to ask a question, it wouldn’t be that one.I’d ask about Phillip.I’d ask whether Alice was with him.He’d been in the hospital for three days by the time they brought me here, plenty of time for my sister to come.Maybe they were letting her hold him.
Hopefully, he was out of the isolette by now.Maybe he’d take a bottle for her.He never did for me.Charles’s parents arrived less than six hours after Phillip was admitted to the hospital.I was sitting by his isolette when they got there.Not long after that, the doctors wouldn’t let me back into the nursery, they said on account of the investigation.I guess since additional family had arrived to sit at his bedside, the doctors didn’t feel the need to bend whatever rules they’d bent so that Phillip wouldn’t be alone.
After everything happened, and with the rest of my family missing, I spent a few nights by myself at home, sleeping on the sofa, but mostly I didn’t sleep at all.I waited for news and paced the house, wearing the shag carpet thin.I treaded up and down the long hallway where our family photos were displayed, mostly praying.With every passing hour, my worst fears grew closer and closer, until I was concerned that I might really be losing it.Everything got worse once the sun went down.
They called off the search every evening at dusk.I thought of Eleanor.She didn’t have her bunny, and she wouldn’t sleep without him.I thought of Toby and how he was probably trying to be brave.I thought of how I should have said no.I should have told Charles I was tired.There was too much going on, perhaps another time.But I didn’t.I’d already caused enough trouble as it was, and I knew he missed the old me, the fun and agreeable wife I’d once been.I wanted to make him happy.Was he?
In the days that followed, I took taxis back and forth to the hospital each day.They wouldn’t let me stay, given Phillip was in the neonatal nursery.They don’t have adult-sized beds there, and they were adamant that visiting hours had to be maintained.I don’t know if that was the truth.I’d only ever been in the hospital to deliver a baby, and this was nothing like that.
My doctor had prescribed medication to “take the edge off,” and driving wasn’t advisable.The pills made me terribly dizzy, so I only took the medication a few times when my thoughts got so dark it scared me.What if they never came home?What if the unthinkable had happened?What if this was all my fault?
I considered checking into a hotel closer to the hospital, maybe the same hotel where Charles’s parents were staying, then decided against it.They never let me back into the nursery.I can still picture how he looked the last time I saw him—that is, before Charles’s parents arrived: a small feeding tube going down his tiny throat, tape over his lips to hold it in place.An IV stuck in his head, because that was the only place they could find a vein that would hold.
I didn’t understand any of it.Why wouldn’t they let me feed him?But then, there were a lot of things I didn’t understand.As the doctor said, he had the medical license, not me.I didn’t want to cause a scene.I just wanted my baby to get better.
By the time they sent me here, Phillip was out of the woods, but he was still in the isolette.They said it wasn’t safe to send him home just yet.
When the doctors asked me what happened, I told them.
When they arrived, Charles’s parents asked me what happened, so I told them, too.And obviously, I told the police when they asked.
They couldn’t understand my story.Said it didn’t make sense.Where had the blood in my kitchen come from?
I explained that, but I could see they didn’t believe me.Why would Charles disappear with two small children?I told them their guess was as good as mine.
The day after that they sent me here.
Like I said, I didn’t put up a fight.I didn’t kick and scream or profess my innocence like people do in the films.I came calmly and quietly, because I was sure this was all a misunderstanding that would get sorted out once Charles’s parents had some time to come to their senses.They were probably just in shock, too upset to see straight.After all, their son and their grandchildren were missing.Soon, they’d realize that if I’d actually done anything wrong, I’d hardly have been sitting at Phillip’s bedside, or more accurately, in the hospital waiting room, since they wouldn’t let me in to see him anymore, where it would be easy to find me.They needed someone to blame, and I was the closest scapegoat.Their son was—heis—the love of my life.Taking the blame was the least I could do under the circumstances.
And I suppose I was in shock, too.If I couldn’t stomach being at home, and they wouldn’t allow me to be at the hospital, where else could I be?
