Which is really sad when you think about it.
I talked to Peter about it and he agreed I should go over and talk to her again. He even said he’d watch Chloe as soon as he got off the phone. So I’ve been writing this while I’ve been waiting for him. I’ve also been looking up archivist jobs on the Internet. I thought it might be good for Laurel to see that there were lots of options for her. And there were! I was surprised at how many I found and how interesting they sounded! Lots more glamorous than the school librarian job I’d had. There were a couple in the city and one in California at the Huntington Library and one in Philadelphia at a place called the Library Company. Of course, it would be hard for Laurel to do those, but still, with her money I guess she could up and move if she wanted to. There was even one in Vermont that I might be qualified for, but Peter would have a fit if I said I wanted to move to Vermont. I printed out the listings and put them in one of the pretty decorative folders Laurel and I had bought together at the fancy stationer’s in town and I’m all ready to go. . . .
Peter’s still on the phone so I think I’ll just take Chloe with me. I feel a little nervous but also good about it. It’s time I stopped thinking about just myself. For the first time since Chloe was born I feel like I’m really in control.
LATER.
Okay, that didn’t go so well and now I’m really scared.
I got over there and Simone answered the door. When she saw me she stepped outside and closed the door behind her.
“Did she call you?” she asked.
I told her no and explained that I was worried about her. Simone shook her head and for an awful moment I thought she was going to send me away, but then she said how Laurel had been in an awful state and she was worried about her and Chloë. “I told Mr. Hobbes she should not be left on her own.”
“Are you afraid she might hurt Chloë?” I asked.
Her eyes got all glassy and she put her hand on my arm and nodded. I could see she was too upset to talk. And I also realized how young Simone is and how hard it must be for her, living in a foreign country. When I asked if she would keep an eye on Chloe when I went in to see Laurel she said yes, but she begged me not to tell Laurel that she had let me in, because she might yell at her later.
I’m not sure what I expected but I never thought a person could change so much in a week. Laurel was wearing a pair of sweatpants that I thought must have belonged to Stan, because I was pretty sure she didn’t own anything so baggy. She was sitting on the couch flipping through the TV channels, only her eyes were so glazed I don’t think she was really seeing anything. Her hair was hanging around her face, lank and greasy like she hadn’t washed it in days. Her skin was so white I thought for a moment she must have a facial mask on, but then I saw the dark rings under her eyes and smudged eyeliner and realized she probably hadn’t even washed her face since I was here last. When she looked up at me, she barely seemed to register my existence. Like I was just another channel on the television. I sat down on the edge of the couch and noticed a smell. At first I thought it was the couch but then I realized it was Laurel.
“Hey,” I said after a few minutes. “I came by to see if you were all right.”
She made a sound, like a little croak, but then I realized it was a laugh. “And what do you think?” she asked, still staring at the television set. “Do I look all right to you?”
“No,” I admitted. “You look like shit.”
She laughed harder at that, so hard she started coughing. I offered her the half-filled water bottle on the coffee table but she waved it away. “Stan mixed that for me. It’s supposed to have electrolytes and stuff in it but it tastes like shit. I think he’s trying to poison me.”
“Why would Stan do that?” I asked.
“To get my inheritance,” she replied. Then she grinned, which looked all wrong on her face. “But he’s in for a surprise. I’ve changed my will so he’s no longer Chloë’s guardian, so he won’t have control of the money.”
I was so shocked that I couldn’t say anything right away but then I remembered what I’d read about people with BPD. Once their Favorite Person fell from grace they were completely devalued. Maybe Stan had been her FP once and now she was devaluing him. “He must know that,” I said, trying to talk to her logically. “So why would he poison you?”
“Good point,” she said, taking the bottle from me and taking a swig. “Maybe he’s just trying to drive me mad so he can take Chloë away from me and have me committed.”
I started to argue with
