“Excuse me, Sister?”
“Yes?” She had gentle, knowing eyes that took in the situation in a glance.
“This is Mrs. Kenneth O’Connor, whose husband was just admitted a little while ago. I’m her sister and I’d like to take her out to the courtyard for a while. Would it be possible to have someone let her know when her husband comes out of the emergency room?”
“Of course,” she said, smiling gently at Barbara. “I promise to come out there myself just as soon as there’s word on his condition. I’m Sister Theresa. Just ask for me if you need anything.”
The Sisters of Mercy had lived up to their name.
Barbara allowed me to lead her out into the courtyard, but as we got to the double glass doors, she stopped me.
“You shouldn’t have lied to that nun.”
“I didn’t lie to that nun.”
“Yes, you did. You told her I was Mrs. Kenneth O’Connor.”
“In the eyes of the Church, you still are.”
It made me feel good that she’d hassle me over anything; it was a sign she was capable of being distracted, however momentarily, from the problems at hand. And here I was, leading her out to talk with a cop who would make her rehash it all. I could feel her tense up when she saw Frank. She stared down at the ground the rest of the way over to the concrete table and bench where he sat waiting for us. As we approached, he stood up and said, “Mrs. O’Connor, we haven’t really been introduced. I’m Frank Harriman.”
Barbara nodded her head without making any eye contact.
“I know. You’re Irene’s detective.”
I made a sign to Frank not to pursue it for a moment.
“Why don’t we sit down for a while?” he said. “Are you hungry? Your sister has brought some lunch.”
She looked up and glared at me. “You went out and bought lunch before coming here?”
“No, Barbara,” I said, wondering when the sedative was going to kick in. “I was at a restaurant when Detective Harriman — Frank — was kind enough to call and let me know you needed me.” Not the exact truth, but she didn’t seem to question it — or how Frank would know I was at a particular restaurant. In any case, this story of Frank’s searching for her sister for her at least got her to look up at his face.
“That was very kind of you,” she said to Frank.
“No problem.”
No one was going to make a move toward the food. Frank was the only possible candidate for an appetite at that moment, and he wasn’t diving in.
The courtyard was private and serene. It was bordered by carefully tended beds of bright-colored flowers and tall trees. A hedge with an opening into a walkway to the front entrance shielded the yard from the parking lot. We sat there listening to birds and smelling the now chilled satay and pad Thai.
Barbara seemed to be growing calmer. Frank asked me if he had ever told me the story of the time he was called out to rescue a lady who was stuck in a dog door. I said no.
“It was out in Bakersfield, oh, about midnight one night. The owner of the house was this lady’s former boyfriend. He had tried to break up with her for two weeks. She refused to let go, as they say, and on four other occasions within these two weeks she had shown up drunk on his doorstep. He’d open the door and she’d try to shove her way in, calling him every name in the book, then crying on his shoulder and telling him she couldn’t live without him. At first he felt so guilty about hurting her that he put up with it. But this particular night he just got tired of it, so he didn’t open the door. She went around back.”
“And tried to get in through the dog door?”
“Right. And, well, let’s just say she was a little more fully developed than the dog. The guy only had a beagle. Anyway, she was stuck between her hips and bra-line.”
He looked over to see if this was offensive to Barbara, but to my amazement she was sitting there with a little grin on her face.
“How’d you get her out?” I asked.
“Well, by the time I got there, she’d sobered up quite a bit, and felt more than a little embarrassed. I asked the guy if he had any mineral oil or petroleum jelly and a sheet. He brought in a bottle of baby oil and a sheet. I told her I’d need her to take off her blouse, and we’d put the sheet over her for the sake of modesty. She said she was past worrying about modesty, her back and knees were killing her and would we please hurry up and get her the hell out of the dog door.
“So we stripped her from the waist up, and lubricated her skin and as much of the door liner as we could. I went out and around through the backyard gate so that I could pull from the other side. I’m sure it didn’t feel great, but eventually she slid right out. She thanked me, took her blouse and bra and told the guy she never wanted to see him again.”
“I’ll never feel like the most desperate woman in the world again,” Barbara said.
“Frank and I knew each other when I worked in Bakersfield,” I said.
“Oh,” said Barbara, “I didn’t know you were such old friends.”
“We haven’t been in touch in a long time.”
Barbara looked between us. “Oh.”
“I know you’ve really had a shock today, Mrs. O’Connor,” Frank said gently.
