Wicked Burn

“Yes, of course,” Niall agreed quickly, not in the least offended by the slightly stern edge that came into Rose’s voice. She wasn’t sure she could have given guardianship to anyone who didn’t get the militant gleam in her eye that Rose did when she discussed the rights of mentally ill individuals. “I would have told Stephen myself if I hadn’t thought it was possible he would destabilize. You know how he can get around me sometimes.”

It should have been you, Niall.

She shut her eyes reflexively, trying to banish the automatic thought. Another one, equally unwelcome, abruptly rushed to take its place.

“Wait . . . are you saying this because you told him about the divorce?” Niall asked in shrill panic. “Is that why he attacked that man at the hospital?”

“No,” Rose said firmly. Her hand rose to Niall’s elbow reassuringly. “I’m bringing this up because I thought you might have this kind of reaction if you thought about it in the future and I wasn’t here to tell you otherwise.” Rose made sure she had Niall’s full attention before she continued. “I haven’t told Stephen about you filing for divorce. All of my reports from Dr. Fardesh and the staff at Evergreen Park argued against the wisdom of that.”

“Then why did you call me?”

“Because it was my duty to tell you my philosophy on the matter—that if Stephen was deemed sufficiently stable, I would at least inform him of the fact that he was about to undergo a legal divorce from his wife and ask him if he would like to state his opinion on the manner. Not that it would change the outcome of things. But he is a human being, after all. You would rather I make attempts at acknowledging Stephen’s human rights instead of just signing the divorce papers at work between responding to an e-mail and taking a bathroom break, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course!” Niall responded desperately. “Just tell me again that this recent relapse wasn’t related to you telling him about the divorce.”

“No,” Rose repeated passionately. She glanced over when a male nurse at the nursing station cleared his throat loudly, subtly informing them that they needed to calm down. “The reports from Dr. Fardesh have been far from encouraging that kind of communication. Then Stephen had this recent relapse—”

“. . . which had nothing to do with—”

“No! Dios, believe me, girl!” Rose insisted, earning another frown from the male nurse for her loud volume. She toned it down a notch as she continued. “I had already decided that it wouldn’t be in Stephen’s best interests to have any more possible stressors placed upon him. Then he had this latest relapse . . .” Rose paused and shook her head dispiritedly.

“I should probably also tell you that after this particular incident of violence I’ve agreed, at Dr. Fardesh’s urging, to give consent for Stephen to be given a new medication.”

“Another one?” Niall asked dully.

“We have to keep trying. I’ve held off on consenting to this medication because it has a dangerous side effect. A small percentage of patients experience a drastic drop in their white blood cell count when taking it.” She saw Niall’s worried expression. “Evergreen Park will monitor Stephen’s blood closely for that very rare side effect, Niall. It’s not as if he’s out in the community and might miss regular blood draws. And who knows? This is an older drug, but it has had amazing results for people with severe psychosis.

“Stephen’s most recent relapse aside,” Rose said, “in my capacity as his legal guardian I felt it was important to tell you that if Stephen should stabilize while your divorce is still ongoing—which we both know is highly unlikely, given that it will probably finalize in the next few months—that I might consider telling him what is occurring that legally concerns him. Might, Niall. And even if that should happen the chance of it actually affecting your divorce proceedings is a million to one.”

“And this is definitely what you called to tell me last week, right?”

“Yes,” Rose repeated with an amused laugh of frustration. She knew perfectly well from her experience with clients’ families that they needed to be frequently reassured that they were not somehow directly responsible for their family member’s mental illness or the sole cause of a relapse.

“I told you before that given the circumstances, it was a shame I hadn’t spoken with you first. But Stephen’s latest relapse had nothing to do with your filing for divorce, Niall. Absolutely nothing. Understood?”

She waited until Niall nodded.

“Good,” Rose said. She put her hand on Niall’s elbow. “Now let’s get out of this place. I shouldn’t say it, considering what I do for a living, but I really can’t stand hospitals.”

Niall gave an exhausted bark of laughter. “God, I couldn’t agree more.”

SEVEN

The brisk wind coming off Lake Michigan and whipping down the tunnels of the high-rises couldn’t prevent Vic from walking back to Riverview Towers from the theater that Saturday afternoon. The run-through on Thursday night only served to highlight myriad problems and concerns that needed to be taken care of posthaste before opening night next Friday. Vic couldn’t justify returning to the farm for the long weekend, as he usually did.

That was it. Lack of fresh air and rigorous exercise on the back of one of his horses were responsible for his extra edgy mood for the past two days. Sure, Vic would have been a bear no matter the circumstances, given the fact that he had an opening in six days and that not only was it his own play but his first production as director of the Hesse Theater.