From the Indie Side (31 page)

Frowning and
lost in thought, she placed the papers back in their folder and
returned the file to the drawer. Locking the cabinet, Lanie then
put the key back in its hiding place.

Oh,
Thomas, you’ve never been good at hiding anything from me. We know
each other too well.

Lanie heard a
rattle of keys, then the click of the front door unlocking. She
spun around, suddenly in a state of panic.

“Mrs. Karvan?
Mrs. Karvan?”

A steady, calm
voice sang out through the house. Thomas had insisted on a
housekeeper while she recovered. Lanie exhaled, suddenly aware
she’d been holding her breath.

“Oh, thank
God.” Lanie came out to meet her. “You startled me. You must be
Susan?”

A kind, older
lady carrying a wicker basket full of cleaning products smiled back
at her. She placed her basket on the floor.

“Oh, it’s just
lovely to meet you, Mrs. Karvan.” She extended her hand toward
Lanie.

“I hope I
didn’t startle you too much. I wouldn’t want to upset someone in
your condition.” She smiled at Lanie kindly.

My
condition
?
What had Thomas told her?

“It’s lovely to
meet you, too.” Lanie shook her hand gently. “How about I leave you
to it then?”

“Okay.” Susan
smiled. “Well you take care then, Mrs. Karvan.”

Lanie stepped
out of the house, had to clear her head—uncovering Thomas’s weird
newspaper clippings had been puzzling; he never read the paper.
They must have been left-over garbage from his last office
clean-out at work, stuff he didn’t want to throw away but didn’t
know what to do with. Maybe his secretary cut them out for him?
What had really bothered her, though, were a few of the entries
she’d seen on his desktop calendar as she was rifling through his
things.

“Leila, 6pm @
institute”

The institute?
The badge mentioned the institute. But Thomas had given up research
years ago. “Too busy saving lives.” And Leila was his secretary. Or
maybe… One of the school moms had mentioned a new bar had opened up
in town recently. She tried to remember the name, certain it began
with the letter “I”. Was Thomas…? No, he wouldn’t do that, not
since… There had been tears, talk of splitting up, but she’d
decided to believe him that it was a one-off mistake, that he’d
learned from it. He’d never given her a reason to doubt him again,
and she’d stopped looking for signs.

Lanie looked
around. She still hadn’t left her driveway. She blinked, shaking
her head violently.

I’ve
got to stop zoning out like this.

“Come on Lanie,
get it together,” she muttered, starting the car. The insurance
company had paid out, and Thomas had bought her a brand-new car.
She’d get some lunch, that’s what she’d do. Yes, lunch. And do a
little shopping down at the mall. Normalcy. She pulled out of the
driveway. Tomorrow morning, she’d make lunch for the boys, all
their favorite things. Thomas would have just given them money for
the school cafeteria.

Lanie
walked slowly through the food court, and walking past the bright
lights of the McDonald’s, she had a strange sense of déjà
vu
.
Suddenly she felt dizzy. Lanie
grabbed at a table and chairs to her left, knocking one
over.

Sam
was running away from her, almost flying toward a car speeding
through the mall parking lot. “Grampa!” he yelled. “Grampa!
Grampa!” She finally caught hold of the back of his shirt, hauling
him back toward her car. “No, Sammy, Grampa’s in heaven now.” Sam
pointed at the car. “No, Mommy, look!” Lanie craned her neck to
where the car was lined up to leave the mall. The older man driving
the car caught her eye, then immediately looked away, swinging his
car violently into oncoming traffic and out of the parking lot. No.
It couldn’t be…

“Are you okay,
ma’am?” A pock-marked face wearing a headset and McDonald’s cap
filled her vision. Lanie blinked as the young man came into focus.
“You had a pretty bad fall there, ma’am. Can I get you some water?
Or maybe a soda? Maybe you need some sugar? You look very pale,
ma’am.”

Lanie slowly
propped herself up on her elbows. A small crowd had gathered around
where she lay on the floor of the food court.

“Yes.” Lanie
looked around. “Please. I would love a coffee.”

“Perhaps
something to eat?” Another voice. “Maybe a sandwich?”

“Yes. Please.”
The young McDonald’s worker helped her to her feet, assisted by
another lady in an apron. She caught sight of the mall medics
striding toward her.

“I’m okay. I’m
okay.” They eased her down into a chair. “I had an accident a few
weeks back… My head… Sometimes I just…”

Lanie’s mother
took a cab to the mall and drove her daughter home.

* *
*

“What happened,
Lanie?” Her mother asked, voice full of concern.

“I think I
blacked out,” Lanie began. “Then I had this weird dream. I was in
the mall parking lot, and Sam mistook an old man in a car for
Thomas’s father.”

“Lanie, that’s
fabulous!” Her mother turned to her, smiling.

“Mom!” Lanie
glared at her mother, exasperated. “I blacked out at the mall.
That’s not something I’d call great.”

“No, Lanie.”
Her mother smiled. “You told me about that when it happened the
week before the accident. You must be getting your memory
back!”

Lanie stared
out the window, desperate to remember.

Poor Sam
had become irate when she’d reminded him that “Grampa,” Thomas’s
father and fellow neurosurgeon, had passed the year before.
Maybe we should
have flown over for the funeral, let him see that Grampa had
passed.

Lanie took a
bite of her sandwich. “Mom, have you heard of the institute?” she
asked.

“Oh, that bar
you and Thomas went to the other week?”

“Yeah, I guess
so?” Lanie shrugged.

“Or that place
Thomas used to work while you were both in college?”

“No, that can’t
be it!” Lanie laughed. “Thomas hasn’t been out there since school,
I haven’t been since we got married in the library gardens
there…”

“Lanie, you
told me you took Sam out there to see the gardens near the library
there just the other week.”

“I did?” Lanie
stared at her mother. “Why would I do that?”

“You told me
you wanted to show Sam where you got married.”

“Oh, of
course.” Lanie nodded. “He’s curious about everything at his
age.”

Lanie stared
out the window. Maybe if she went out to the institute she might
remember?

The next
day Lanie drove out to the institute, taking the old loop road.
Turning onto the secluded pass, she remembered what the police had
told her. She’d had her accident here. Did she crash coming back
from the institute? Nothing else was out this way.
When was I out at
the institute library last? I’d remember those shelves, those
stacks, anywhere, but I haven’t been there for years.
Shaking her head, she kept
driving. Lanie walked through the institute gardens, sat and ate
lunch on one of the heavy stone benches donated by former research
fellows. She closed her eyes, wishing for another flashback. It
never came.

Sam’s last
class of the day was at the school library. When he didn’t rush out
with the other children at the bell, Lanie wandered inside looking
for him.

“Is Sam still
here?” she asked the librarian.

“He’s just over
in the corner reading, Mrs. Karvan.” The librarian pointed to a
pile of beanbags in the corner of the open area. “He said he wanted
to finish his story.”

“Of course.”
Lanie smiled and slowly walked over toward her boy. Libraries
always smelled the same. Books and plastic book coverings…

Lanie
had Sam’s hand in hers, running down the path leading away from the
institute library. “Mommy, Mommy!” Sam cried. “You’re going too
fast, Mommy!”

“Mommy!
Mommy!”

“Mommy’s okay,
Sam.”

Lanie opened
her eyes. Sam’s nose was inches from hers, his tear-streaked face
and wild eyes looming above her.

“Oh, Sammy.”
Lanie hugged Sam close to her.

“Mommy, you
fell!” Sam wailed.

“Are you okay,
Mrs. Karvan?” the librarian asked. “You went down pretty hard
there. It’s a good thing you landed in the beanbags.”

“I’m fine. It’s
been happening a bit since the accident.” Lanie slowly stood up,
Sam clinging to her.

“Are you okay
to drive? Can I call someone for you?” The librarian helped Lanie
to the door.

“I’m fine, I
promise.”

* *
*

Lanie had been
sipping her favorite claret, recounting her weird moments of recall
that day to Thomas as she started to prepare the evening meal,
moving her hips in time to the jazz CD as she sliced and diced.

“Jesus Lanie,
what the hell were you doing out at the institute with Sam?” Thomas
yelled.

Lanie’s wine
glass hit the floor, shattering.

“I… I… wanted
to show him the gardens where we got married…” Lanie stuttered.

“No!” Thomas
banged the table. “We discussed this. Your snooping around and
following Leila everywhere is what caused all this mess. You
followed her out there that day! Don’t you dare make excuses. The
fact that you took our son is the most disgusting part. Don’t drag
Sam into your weird, paranoid delusions.”

“
No,
Thomas,
no!
” Lanie
screamed, tears filling her eyes. “I took him to see the
gardens!”

“No. You
followed Leila there.” Thomas glared at her. “Then you smashed up
our car and our kid on that dingy old back road!”

“
It
wasn’t like that, Thomas, I didn’t smash up the car on purpose—I
just wouldn’t, you
know
that.”

“All I know is
you’ve been coming up with crazy crap for weeks—even before the
accident. Following my staff around was one thing, but dragging Sam
into it?”

“I didn’t
follow Leila…” Lanie shook her head. “Mom said I took him to see
the gardens…”

“So you told
your mom you were taking him to the gardens to hide your real
motives.” Thomas sighed. “You need help, Lanie.”

“Have you been
having nightmares? Panic attacks, any generalized feelings of
anxiety? Mood swings?”

Thinking back,
Lanie was undecided.

I
don’t think so.

“Most of the
time, no. But there are weird little things… Thomas swears that
badge wasn’t real, but I’m sure I saw it. Thomas says I’ve been
following his secretary for weeks, but it doesn’t seem like me,
like our relationship.”

“I need you to
keep a journal, write down anything new since the accident. Any
thoughts, images, nightmares, panic attacks—anything you feel is
out of character. Meanwhile, let’s get some scans done and see if
anything else is going on.”

Lanie
walked around for a bit after the appointment. There was no one
close she could talk to about it all—her mom had gone home and her
girlfriends had dwindled away since they’d had the boys. The ladies
she knew were more acquaintances, moms of the kids’ school friends.
They’d sent flowers after the crash, but no one had phoned or
dropped by to see her. Thomas wasn’t one for casual friendships or
catch-ups.
Well, not since he got promoted, not for at least a couple
of years.
His company
had always really been enough for her anyway, him and the
boys.

Getting
into the car and paying no attention to where she was headed, Lanie
soon found herself near the turnoff for the loop road. Playing a
hunch, she swung a sharp U-turn and headed toward the institute. At
the front desk, she asked the librarian if she could get a printout
of any papers published by her husband. Finding nothing of
interest, she asked the same question about Leila.
Thomas mentioned
she was going to night classes a while back; maybe he’s been
helping her with some work?
“Cell Regeneration and Longevity.” A paper published by
Thomas’s assistant a couple years ago. The work was solid; from
what she could gather the cells responsible for aging had been
discovered and could be tinkered with. They’d found ways to
manipulate diseased cells that would not only extend life but
improve the quality of life. Further research was
encouraged.

Blah,
blah, blah.

* *
*

Filing the
details away in her bag, Lanie had given up and returned home late
to make dinner, finding her boys happily munching bowls of
cereal.

“Lanie, where
have you been? The kids and I are starving and I couldn’t even
reach you on your phone.”

So a
three-year-old and a twelve-year-old can work out how to stop their
tummies from rumbling, but the grown man would prefer a big cup of
pissed-off. Figures.

Ignoring
Thomas, Lanie smiled at her boys. “How was your day, Jake? Anything
exciting happen?” As Jake ran off to get his science project, she
spoke to Sam. “How about you, Sam?”

He came over
and cuddled his mom. “Ryan was nasty to me. He said I stole his
buggy book, but I didn’t. I didn’t.”

“I know, baby,
I know you wouldn’t do that.”

Ah,
when life was simple. When your mortal enemy was a bum-bum head,
and all was magically forgotten the following day.