I felt the fool again, heat rising in my neck. “Then what?”
The shaking started as the words left my mouth. I bent over, cursing between clenched teeth, waiting for the contraction to release me. Joy kept her distance, turning away until I could stand. When she looked at me again, her eyes were wet.
“That,” she said.
“It will pass.”
“From the looks of it, like a kidney stone.”
I caught my breath and laughed, not able to remember the last time she’d told a joke. “I see that you’ve been practicing your stand-up routine.”
“Actually, I’ve been practicing my sobriety routine. Fifty days as of today. My AA counselor gave me a gold star.”
The last time she’d tried AA, she stayed sober for a record 148 days, falling off the wagon on Kevin’s birthday. That was three years ago. The binge that followed wiped out that record with a vengeance. I was stunned but cautious, having seen her go down this road before.
“That’s great. One day at a time, right?”
“First thing they teach you.”
“Well, good for you. Keep it up.”
She stuck her hands in her jeans pockets. “I intend to. How long have you been like this?”
“A couple of months, but I’m not like this all the time. Sometimes, it’s nothing more than a shiver and I can go long stretches without anything happening.”
“Long stretches meaning like days or hours?”
I hesitated a moment, not wanting to concede. “Hours.”
“What are we going to do about you?”
“You don’t have to do anything. I’ve got an appointment at KU Hospital. They’ll give me a pill or a shot or something and I’ll be as good as new.”
“In November. Wendy told me. I’m certain she wasn’t pleased that you invited Kate to dinner, but all she could talk about was that you needed to see a doctor right away and what were she and I going to do about it. Those people at KU will give you the runaround, the once-over, and tell you to take it easy after making you wait two months for the privilege.”
Joy had tried every doctor and medical center in every city we’d lived in for every malady she’d had or thought she’d had. She didn’t like any of them because she didn’t like what they told her: quit drinking. KU Hospital was no exception, though I couldn’t remember who she’d seen there or why. On the plus side, she knew practically every doctor in town.
“They’ve got a good movement disorder clinic. I’m on the cancellation list. I’ll probably get in to see someone sooner than two months.”
“No, you won’t. I checked. You are number sixty-three on the waiting list. A lot of people have to die if you are going to get in before November.”
“What do you mean you checked?” I asked, my voice rising with my irritation.
“Calm down, Jack. Wendy was so upset. I had to do something. I called the clinic and told them I was your wife, which I still am, legally, that is.”
I looked at my watch. It was nine-thirty, three hours since I’d seen Wendy.
“You’re telling me the clinic is open at night?”
“As a matter of fact, it isn’t. But I got a hold of the chief neurology resident and browbeat him into having the appointment secretary call me back. She was very nice about the whole thing, but said there was nothing she could do about your appointment. Even said you were lucky to have a wife like me. I spared her the details.”
“You are unbelievable!” My annoyance was giving way to grudging admiration.
“I didn’t use to think so. Now, I’m willing to consider the possibility.”
Her purse was on the kitchen counter. She opened it and handed me a slip of paper.
“What’s this?”
“Your schedule. I made an appointment for you to see Dr. Carl Winters. He’s the best neurologist in town according to his wife, who’s in my AA group. You’ll see him on Monday morning at ten. He’s in the St. Luke’s Medical Building. He wants you to have an MRI of your entire spine, with and without contrast media, and an MRI of your brain before he sees you. You’ll get the MRIs done by the radiology group he uses. They’ve got offices all over town. There’s one in Overland Park and one on the Plaza next to the library. Take your pick, but you’ve got to let them know in the morning. They are working you in as a favor to Dr. Winters, so don’t get pissy if you have to wait a few minutes. Wendy will go with you on Monday but she and I decided that you can get the films done by yourself.”
I didn’t know what to say. I had misjudged both Wendy and Joy. That was nothing to be proud of. I’d spent the last two months feeling isolated and alone when I could have avoided both.
I took another deep breath. “Thank you.”
Joy smiled, picking up the dog. “You’re welcome. Where’d you get this cute little cockapoo?”
“Cocka what?”
“You bought a dog and you don’t even know what breed she is? Honestly, how do you get through the day? She’s a cockapoo-half cocker spaniel and half poodle. What did you think she was?”
“A mutt that was orphaned after everyone she lived with was murdered Monday night.”
She set Ruby on the?oor. The dog sat at her feet.
“Oh, my. That was your case, wasn’t it?”
“The operative word is
She pushed her lips out in a pout. “Quit acting like Troy tattled on you. He probably told you to see a doctor and you refused. Am I right?”
I shrugged. “More or less.”
“Well then, you didn’t leave him any choice. So how did you end up with the dog?”
“I found her hiding under a bed in the house where the murders took place. I went back there tonight looking for her.”
“Men,” she said with a wry grin, “are incapable of being alone.”
“Living alone wasn’t my choice.”
The familiar weariness rippled across her face. “You were living alone for years without knowing it, Jack. We both were. I just made it official.”
The old battle lines reappeared. The veins in her neck popped to the surface. The muscles in my shoulders tightened and my gut began to quiver.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” I told her.
“Well, at least you’re sorry. That’s something.”
“Thanks again for going to all the trouble with the doctor appointments.”
Joy tucked her purse under her arm. “I did it for Wendy. As long as we have a daughter, we’re still a family. But eventually you’ll have to learn to take care of yourself. I won’t be around forever to look after you.”
The dog and I followed her to the front door. Ruby whimpered until Joy bent low, cupping the dog’s face in her hands.
“You want to know something funny?” she asked, nuzzling the dog.
“Sure.”
“One of the people in my AA group had one of these dogs. She was moving to an apartment that didn’t allow pets and asked me if I wanted hers. I don’t know what made me say yes, but I did. Her name is Roxy. She’s white with a dirty-blond streak down her back, not apricot like Ruby. Otherwise, they could be sisters. We never had a dog while we were together. What are the odds we’d each end up with a dog, let alone the same breed?”
“I wouldn’t bet on us.”
“Then you’d lose,” she said, giving Ruby a final pat on the head.
She was halfway down the walk when she turned around. I was still holding the door open, watching her
