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“The hospital’s gone through several system upgrades since the seventies. They stopped keeping track of admittance reasons after 1990,” Ramona explains. “You could try NYU. They might have it in their records.”
“Okay,” I say.
I thank her again for following up with me before leaving.
When I step outside, I stare at Bell Hospital next door, feeling more confused than when I arrived. Mom spent a month here in college, and I have no idea why.
My phone starts ringing. It’s Eddie, and I quickly pick up.
“Hi,” he says. “Just checking in. Everything okay?”
“Yes,” I say.
“When are you going back to Paul’s for lunch?” he asks.
“After I go to the NYU registrar’s office. I just found out my mom was hospitalized for a month during college, and I’m trying to find out why.”
“Okay,” he says. I can tell he’s trying to cover his worry. “Please call me when you’re back at his place.”
“I promise I will.”
“And Beans …” He stops himself.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Sarah misses you,” he says.
“She texted me earlier,” I let him know.
“She did?” he asks.
“I guess she got a hold of your phone,” I say.
He lets out a small chuckle that briefly cuts through his worry. “That’s a first. I had no idea she knew my passcode.”
“An early adopter,” I say. “And I miss you both.”
The line at the NYU registrar’s office is endless. Purple and white signs line the wall with instructions for registering online. A female student in front of me with a dyed blue bob is tapping her foot while listening to headphones.
When it’s finally my turn, I walk up to a thin man in his forties with a long, pointed nose and one deep crow line between his brows. He waits for me to speak first.
“Hi,” I say. “I recently learned that my mother was hospitalized for a month while she was a student at the Tisch School of Arts, and I’m trying to find out why for my own medical reasons. Is this something that would be in your records?”
“What was her name?” he asks.
“Irene Mayer.”
He types on his keyboard. I notice the name tag pinned to his brown shirt pocket:Neil.
“Thank you for helping me, Neil,” I say.
“I can’t find her,” he says. “When was she hospitalized?”
“March to April of 1974,” I say.
“She wouldn’t be in this database,” he explains. “That was too long ago.”
“Do you know who I might be able to speak with that has access to older records?” I ask.
