The Ward (4 page)

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Authors: Dusty Miller

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BOOK: The Ward
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No.” Ben had this
horrible feeling that when he went there tonight, Rene would have
been transferred upstate in a whoosh of paperwork and with any
red-tape or delays miraculously waved aside. “I’m going to ask her
tonight. That’ll give her a little time to think about
it.”

No matter what she said, she would
have a couple of days to change her mind. Which she would probably
do with great regularity.

In the end, it would be a crap-shoot
as to how she would respond.

He had to take the risk of talking to
Doctor Gordon. He had to trust somebody, and he really hadn’t
talked too much about it with her for fear of her fears. He didn’t
want to scare her off just when she seemed to understand that this
was real.

He took another deep
breath.


I was sort of wondering
if you had any concerns.”

That, was one very good
question.

Doctor Gordon leaned back, put his
elegant Gucci loafers up on the end of his desk and put his hands
thoughtfully behind his head. He looked Ben in the eye.

Few of his patients had any
self-esteem—a result of labeling, by themselves and others,
something he had always hated.

He despised labels, in fact, no matter
how useful they might be at times.


Nope. Not really. I think
this is a wonderful idea. Honestly, and know I really shouldn’t say
this—so I won’t—but, ah, some folks tend to neglect their
relatives, and their spouses, and even their children when they
come here. I think you know that too, Ben. But ah…no, I don’t have
any major concerns.” Other than the TV and her friends, Rene didn’t
get a lot of stimulation in the Institute.

Yet that stimulation was vital to
long-term coping strategies. It would almost have to be better for
Rene out there. Her family, dysfunctional to begin with in some
ways, simply hadn’t been able to cope with her care, and yet they
still wanted her to be safe. They were overprotective in some ways,
in his professional assessment. She would be more challenged in the
real world, and she obviously needed something the Institute hadn’t
been able to give her. If Rene had the right person to care for
her, to work with her, it could possibly work.

Ben nodded.


That’s more or less what
I was thinking.”

Thanks for the vote of
confidence.
But the doctor didn’t say it
aloud.

Ben screwed up some more
nerve.


Hopefully that would be
this weekend. Friday night. Ah, like after I get off
work.”

Doctor Gordon pursed his lips, nodded
and said nothing. He glanced at the clock. He had a long day ahead
of him, and this might be one of its brighter moments, so he
savored it for all that it was worth.

Ben and Rene. Rene and Ben.
Interesting.


I’m in love with
her.”

Doctor Gordon snickered in spite of
his training.

He almost said it:
‘you and me both.’

He stopped himself in time.


You finally figured that
one out, eh?” That was a better way of putting it.

Ben’s face slowly turned red from the
bottom up and the doctor finally did let go with one good
chuckle.

It’s not like everyone in the place
couldn’t see what was going on. Ben blushed furiously when the
realization hit home.

Then it was his turn to chuckle,
sounding perhaps more relieved rather than confident.

But the doc’s attitude was a good
sign.

 

***

 

Ben was in the ward at the appointed
hour. Rene had packed a small bag. She was sitting on the end of
her bed, looking scared.

She had her hat, her boots and her
winter coat on, and she was wearing a white blouse and blue jeans
that still had small creases in them from being left folded in a
drawer too long. Her scarf was wrapped around her neck. Rene
smelled heavenly, and yet it was basically just soap and water and
toothpaste and deodorant.

It sure smelled different from the
day-job.


Ben!” Her face lit up but
he could tell she was still scared.

She leapt up and hugged him fiercely.
Never had he felt anything like it. Maybe he was a little scared
too.

The moment of truth had
arrived and he wondered if she would balk. The thing to do
then
would be
just to accept it as gracefully as possible and
back off. Try again later. He wasn’t giving up. Not in a million
years. He gently peeled her off of him.


Hi, Lover. Are you all
set to go?” He picked up the bag. “Put your gloves on, it’s cold
outside.”

She stood and it certainly appeared
she was going with him. He took her by the elbow and gently steered
her out, closing her door behind. It seemed odd not to have to lock
a door around here. No one really owned anything in particular in
that place. There was no place to hide anything and no way of
sneaking it out.

The bus would be along any minute.
They had to get down there. Otherwise, it would be twenty minutes
waiting in the freezing cold before the next one came
along.

 

***

 

Doctor Gordon was stuck in traffic, on
his way to do the evening rounds at the Institute. Like many an
art, and surely psychology was an art, it was also a full-time job.
His patients, or anyone really, could call him twenty-four hours a
day, seven days a week, and expect to get an answer.

His wife had given up on all hopes of
privacy or getting him to take a weekend off long ago.

Now she just lived with it.

He had his cellular phone up to his
ear as the BMW sat, purring quietly behind a dump truck that was
half in one lane and half out of the other. His windshield wipers
were clapping out a tempo…some song on the radio.


Hello. Doctor Gordon
here.” He had no idea who was on the desk tonight. “I may be a
little late, but not too much I hope. Who’s this?”

He’d been tied up in departmental
meetings all day and at some point a man had to eat. Once in a
while he made a special point to eat some real food, and so he made
the mistake of leaving the building in light flurries and sleet.
The squalls were getting worse.

The roads were miserable, and yet he
was barely ten minutes up the road, at least in good
weather.


This is Amy Bedard.
What’s up, doc?”


Ah. Nurse Bedard.” He
spoke through a brief grin at her little jibe. “Did Rene Silvers
sign herself out as planned?”


Ah, yes, doctor, she
did.” Nurse Bedard checked the log. “She went out at four
forty-seven p.m.”


Excellent. Good for
them.”


Yes.” There was a smile
in her voice. “Try not to worry, Doctor.”

But he would, of course.


Okay. It’s possible I’ll
be in at my usual time—I hope.”


Yes, Doctor.”

With someone like Ben, who had simply
run out of money, and stopped taking his meds, you picked them up,
dusted them off, and set them back on their feet again. Ben wasn’t
stupid, and he was a pretty responsible person. On the other hand,
he needed those medications. It was no wonder he ran into trouble.
The key thing was for him to keep working. In this economy, with
his skills and spotty work history there would be some obvious
challenges.

With Rene it was a different story.
One had to wonder how it would go, but having someone around that
loved you was important, and two heads were always better than one
when it came to running a household. It was a question of how much
support was available in the greater community. This was something
he had spoken of often, publicly and otherwise, sometimes even to
some avail.

He sighed, deeply.


Sometimes…sometimes
there’s just nothing more you can do, Doctor.”

The nurse was right. Traffic slowly
began to move up ahead, what little he could see of it.

The dump truck eased over some more to
the left. He could see a clear lane just ahead of it.

There came a point when there was
nothing more you could do. Ben would be starting over from
scratch.

Rene, if she found the courage, would
be starting over from scratch.

They were luckier than
some.

That was the hell of it,
sometimes.

Sometimes that was the only answer you
had, at the end of a long and busy day.

It was the only answer you were going
to get.

 

 

End

 

 

About the Author

 

Constance ‘Dusty’ Miller has written
fiction, non-fiction and worked for newspapers and magazines, even
working for a brief stint as sports editor of a small-town weekly.
She likes to make people laugh as well as think. Her erotica has
strong qualities of literary romance. Out of work and recovering
from a life-threatening illness, someone suggested writing erotica
which she initially rejected for lack of confidence. But love makes
the world go around, and Dusty can no longer deny its pull. Dusty
squeezes a little writing in between raising a daughter and
building up her business.

 

 

 

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