Wife-in-Law Page 17

  Which was a good thing, because Kat needed me to get her through something far worse than what Greg had done to me. Zach was leaving her, but not for another woman.

  Sixteen

  March 14, 2005. Eden Lake Court

  It started so gradually. A stumble. Dropping little things. A hesitation with his words. We lost Zach by such small degrees that he wouldn’t admit there was a problem till his leg stopped working in the middle of the night.

  He got up to go take a whizz and fell flat on his face, waking Kat and scaring her so bad, she called 911 before she called me.

  The first thing I heard was the chug of the fire department ambulance in the street, which roused me in an instant. Looking up the hall, I saw the orange and white lights cycling through the sidelights in the foyer.

  I grabbed my robe and threw it on as I ran to see what had happened. Immediately, I thought of Kat. We had other neighbors on the cul-de-sac, but they were private people we only saw at the annual homeowners’ meetings.

  It was an ambulance, and the paramedics were headed for Kat’s front door. Oh, God.

  I raced outside without disarming the alarm, so it started howling behind me just as I reached Kat’s walkway, but I didn’t care. Heart pounding, I followed the paramedics to find Kat holding Zach on their bedroom floor, surrounded by all four of their dogs and three cats, who set up a cacophony of barks and distressed meows when the paramedics descended.

  In the corner, Kat’s nasty parrot shrieked at intervals, its feathers flared in alarm.

  “Hush,” Kat hollered at the menagerie. She swatted their fat golden retriever. “Butterball, shut up.” Their three-legged rescue Dalmatian growled at the paramedics, while the wiener dog and the shaggy little white mop of a whatzit yapped away. “Betsy, help. Lock these fools in the bathroom before they bite somebody.”

  Like me? Animals can sense when you’re afraid of them, but Kat needed help, so I didn’t hesitate. I took the Dalmatian’s collar, but she growled at me, straining to remain at Kat’s side, so Kat told her, “It’s okay, girl. Go on. It’s okay.”

  “Spot, go,” Zach ordered, and the dog immediately obeyed. What was it about a man’s voice?

  “Okay, girl,” I said, grabbing the Dalmatian’s collar with a cheerful little summoning whistle. “Come on, baby. Would you like a treat?” The magic words. She stopped growling and jumped up on me, tail wagging and a huge, wet tongue across my lips. Sputtering dog spit, I pulled her back down and led her toward the bathroom, lying with conviction. “C’mon. Let’s get a treat.” Once inside, I almost choked on the stink of cat boxes but closed the door behind me, then let go of the dog. Backing up, I grabbed the doorknob and readied my escape. “You wanta play catch?” I threw a washcloth toward the Jacuzzi. “Catch!”

  The distraction gave me time to escape.

  The same method worked on the others, but the wiener dog bit my ankle when I tried to squeeze through a narrow opening of the door to get away. “No!” I scolded, hopping back to close the door.

  I turned to see that the paramedics had Zach hooked up with all kinds of wires on his head and chest.

  Panting slightly from wrestling the dogs out of the way, I asked Kat, “Do you want me to put the cats somewhere?”

  One of them arched its back and hissed as I went by.

  “No, the cats are okay,” Kat said, which prompted the two paramedics to exchange brief glances that said they weren’t.

  “Maybe I’ll just get them out of the way.” I crept up on the closest cat—a white one with big black splotches that was lolling on the bed behind Kat—and gently took it into my arms. “There, kitty. That’s a sweet kitty.” It didn’t seem to mind till I got to the second bathroom in the hall, then it shot from my arms, gaining traction with its claws. “Ow! Damn.” Thing must have read my mind.

  When I got back to the bedroom, it was just where I’d picked it up, with a “na-na-na-boo-boo” gleam in its green eyes.

  “What’s wrong with my husband?” Kat asked the paramedic. “Is it a stroke?”

  “My leg won’t work,” Zach snapped with uncharacteristic annoyance. “That’s what’s wrong.”

  “We can’t be sure just yet,” the paramedic said in a soothing tone, then halted when a blast of gobbledygook blared from the microphone pinned to his shoulder. “Roger that,” he said into the microphone, then turned back to Zach. “There are some abnormalities in your EEG, so the hospital has alerted a neurologist. They’ll be ready for you when we get there.”

  I circled behind Kat to give her shoulders a brief hug, whispering in her ear, “It’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay.” Please, God, let it be true.

  “’Scuse me, ma’am,” the paramedic told me. “Could you please step back a bit? We need room to work on Mr. Rutledge.”

  Chastened, I backed away and started for the door.

  “Don’t go,” Kat said, her eyes telegraphing panic that only I could recognize.

  “I’ll just run get some clothes on,” I told her. And call the alarm company. “I’ll be right back.” I touched the second paramedic’s arm. “Where are you taking him?”

  He looked to Kat. “Ma’am, do you have a preference as to where we take y’all?”

  Kat and Zach both said, “St. Joe’s,” which was right across the street from Northside Hospital.

  “St. Joe’s it is.” He radioed the information to their dispatcher.

  I ran outside to find lights on in all the surrounding houses, and the alarm blaring whoop, whoop, whoop, across the whole neighborhood.

  Shoot!

  By the subtle gas streetlights, I saw my neighbor from two doors down walking up the sidewalk in his robe and slippers, a long gun carried casually in one arm, barrel down. Recognizing me, he called out, “Is everything okay, Betsy?”

  “Sorry!” I called back as I raced to shut the siren off. “False alarm. So sorry! But thank you for coming to help.”

  He stopped, his posture communicating disappointment, then turned back toward home, grumbling all the way.

  Breathless when I reached the control panel, I punched the code, and the racket fell blessedly silent. Then I called the alarm company and explained what had happened, giving my password: Amelia.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” the alarm person said, “but the Sandy Springs Police Department has already dispatched a patrol car to respond.”

  Thank goodness, they didn’t charge for false alarms. “Thanks. Bye.”

  I threw on clothes as fast as I could and was on my way out when the police car came up the drive, its spotlight scanning the front of my house.

  The patrolman got out and approached me, shining his flashlight in my face as I hurried toward him. “Ma’am, we received a break-in alert for this address,” he said tersely, his right hand dropping to hover at his gun. “Is there an intruder inside?”

  A logical assumption to make, with me fleeing the scene.

  “No, no. No intruder. This is my house.” I placed my hand on my heaving chest. I didn’t have time for this. “Thank you so much for coming so quickly, but it’s just a false alarm.”

  Across the street, the paramedics opened the door and started wheeling Zach out. Hurry, hurry. “My best friend’s husband across the street had a medical emergency, and I was in such a hurry to go help that I forgot to disarm the alarm.”

  The policeman didn’t seem convinced. “May I please see your driver’s license or photo ID?” he asked, keeping the flashlight on me. I groped for my wallet, then opened it to my license and handed him the whole thing.

  The officer stepped back as if I’d just proffered a bomb. “Please remove the license and hand it to me,” he ordered.

  Lord. But then again, it could have been a bomb, I guess. These days, who knew?

  After struggling to liberate the license from its plastic sleeve, I pulled it out with a jerk that made him flinch, then handed it over. “Here. Could we please hurry?” I pointed to the stretcher. “They’re taking my frie
nd to the hospital, and I promised to go with them.”

  He turned to confirm what I’d said, then handed me back my license. “Your name matches the one for the call, so everything’s squared away.” He turned off his flashlight. “Would you like a police escort to the hospital?”

  “Thank you so much, but that won’t be necessary. We’re just going over to St. Joe’s.”

  The paramedics were closing up the ambulance.

  He touched the brim of his cap. “Drive safely, ma’am. Hope everything works out okay.”

  Get out of my way! You’re blocking my car! “Thank you so much.” I hit the garage-door opener on my key chain.

  Taking the hint, the patrol car zoomed back down the driveway, lights flashing, then shifted into forward and took off with a squeal of rubber.

  I got behind the ambulance, turned on my flashers, and followed them to the hospital.

  Talk about hurry up and wait. Kat kept me apprised, but they didn’t have room for me in the cubicle, so I got a cup of coffee and a paper, then settled into a corner of the waiting room. The longer it took, the better it looked. Really sick people got treated right away, and Zach was taking hours and hours. Maybe it was just a pinched nerve. Halfway through the crossword puzzle, I realized it had been a year ago, almost to the date, when Kat had come with me to the ER when Greg left me. In a way, it seemed like just yesterday, but then again, it seemed like eons since I’d lived that other life in blissful ignorance.

  Adjusting hadn’t been easy, but reality was a far better place to be in the end, so I offered up a brief prayer of gratitude. Mama still hadn’t gotten over it, but I had. Closing my eyes, I said another brief prayer for Zach.

  Kat came out at five-thirty, on the verge of tears. She collapsed into the chair beside me, placing her face in her hands, elbows on her knees. “The weird thing is, the MRI of his brain was normal, so they did his spine, and that was normal. So were the Dopplers. So were the angiograms. No blood clots. No pinched nerves. No tumors, no strokes.”

  “Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?”

  She shoved her fingers through the gray and amber curls at her scalp. “I guess so. But his deep reflexes aren’t normal. And he’s been having trouble swallowing.”

  That didn’t sound good. “How long?”

  She exhaled heavily. “Months. He never said a word to me. I guess this scared it out of him.”

  “Maybe it’s something obscure, but minor,” I told her. “Something they just have to find to fix.”

  Kat leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. “They sure don’t act like it’s minor.”

  “What are they doing now?”

  “An electromyography.” Her mouth quivered. “They have to stick needles in his muscles and run current through them.” A tear escaped the corner of her eye. “It’s not supposed to hurt, except for the pricks, but Zach freaked out about the needles, so they had to sedate him.”

  Poor Zach. He could stand down the most heinous of criminals without a blink, but he really was phobic about needles. “He’ll be all right,” I said, for lack of anything better. “Maybe it won’t take long.” I shifted the subject. “What’s the neurologist like?”

  “Very nice, but he’s from India,” Kat said, “so it’s kinda hard to understand him.” A sad smile eased her face a bit. “He couldn’t understand me fer beans. Zach had to translate.”

  “How long will the test take?”

  “I didn’t ask. I was so upset about Zach, I just had to leave, or I might have come out swingin’ when they stuck him.”

  “Want me to go back and check?”

  Relief washed over her expression. “Would ya? I wanta git some coffee and go to the bathroom.”

  I stood. “You do that, and take your time. The coffee’s down that hall. Just follow the signs. Might be a good idea to get a bite, while you’re there.”

  She rose with obvious effort. Sitting in those ER chairs was hard on the bones. “I don’t wanta leave him fer too long.”

  “He’s not going anywhere. Take a break. I’ll send for you right away if anything comes up.”

  She gave me a brief hug. “Thanks.” Then she was off.

  The nurse told me where to find him, then let me back into the ER. As I approached, a short, brown-skinned doctor in a white coat stood in a murmured huddle with several other doctors, some of them in white jackets instead of coats. Interns?

  Pretending that I was on my way somewhere beyond Zach’s cubicle, I walked slowly past and heard “Freidrich’s ataxia?” “No. That presents earlier.” “Parkinson’s?”

  Please, not Parkinson’s.

  Dr. Longcoat shook his head and said in an Indian accent, “We’ll have to follow up over time, but this looks like ALS to me.”

  My heart skipped three beats, halting me in my tracks. I turned so they couldn’t see my reaction. Lou Gehrig’s! Please, God, no.

  Alerted to my presence, the medical huddle moved farther down the hall.

  Doctors don’t know everything. He said it looks like ALS. He wasn’t positive.

  Wishing I’d never heard it, I forced a calm mask over my alarm, then peeked in to see Zach trembling on the table, eyes shut tight, his fists gripping the sides of the narrow mattress as the technician removed the leads from his body. He’d sweated through the sheets, which covered his necessaries, but I didn’t want to embarrass him, so I waited till the technician finished and replaced his gown, then covered him back up before I said a conspicuous, “Thanks so much for showing me where he is.”

  I pushed aside the curtain and dodged the departing technician and his equipment. When we were alone, I told Zach, “If you wanted attention, we could have stuck needles in you at home.”

  He smiled, grateful that I wasn’t acting serious. “Hey. Good to see you.”

  I answered his unasked question. “I talked Kat into taking a little break. She’s gone to the bathroom, then to the snack bar for some coffee. Can I get you some?”

  Zach glanced toward the hall with a frown. “I don’t think they’ll let me.”

  “Won’t let you what?” Dr. Longcoat asked as he came in, only a flicker of recognition betraying that I’d overheard him. He had a name embroidered on his coat that started with a B, but it was so long, I couldn’t make it out.

  “Have some coffee,” Zach answered. “Betsy, this is the neurologist. Dr. B, this is my wife’s and my best friend.”

  “We’ll be releasing you shortly,” Dr. Longcoat said. “You may have some coffee then.”

  “Good.” Zach leveled a piercing gaze at the doctor. “So what’s the story? Give it to me straight.”

  The doctor pulled a card from his pocket. “I’d like to review your test results and consult with some of my colleagues, before I speak of this.” He handed the card to Zach. “Would it be convenient for you and your wife to see me at my office this afternoon at four? It’s located here in the medical complex.”

  Zach’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why my wife? Why not just me?”

  He was a detective, after all.

  “You shouldn’t be driving right now, and your wife told me she’d like to be present when we discuss your case.”

  Zach backed down, but only a little. “Okay. Four it is.”

  “Very well.” The doctor bowed briefly. “Please excuse me, but I have another case.”

  Caught off guard, I bowed right back, then felt like an idiot, my ears flaming. “I’ll go get Kat. I know she can’t wait to get you home.”

  “It’s bad news,” he said, staring without focus at the ceiling. “I knew this was going to happen. I’ve known it all my life.”

  “Oh, come on, Zach,” I said, covering what I knew. “No sense getting all worked up till you find out what’s really the matter.”

  ALS had no cure. It was a long, agonizing death sentence.

  Zach’s focus shifted to me and sharpened. “You know something. I can see it.”

  Damn. “I’m going to get Kat,” I cove
red, “so we can take you home, and y’all can get some sleep before you have to come back. Then I’m going to bed.”

  I hurried down the hall, wishing I could erase what I’d heard, but knowing I couldn’t.

  Kat was just coming back from the snack bar with coffee when I found her. “They’re about to release Zach,” I said. “Maybe we ought to hurry. I just realized we left your dogs locked up in the bathroom.” I motioned toward home.

  Kat waved her hand in dismissal. “No we didn’t. I put them in the backyard.”

  This looks like ALS. “Okay, then.” I sank abruptly into a chair. “I’ll just wait, then.”

  Kat exhaled a long breath. “Why don’t you go on and go home? No sense waiting for us. I’ll call you when we get home.”

  I stood. “Or if you need anything before that.”

  Kat nodded.

  “Okay, then. I’ll go.” Escape. She would tell me this afternoon, and what I know wouldn’t come between us after that. I hugged her briefly. “Zach’s waiting for you. Now that the test is over, he’s fine.”

  “See you.”

  I cried all the way home, narrowly missing several fender benders in the morning traffic. Back in my bedroom, I closed all the shades and curled up in bed, sobbing.

  This would kill Kat. She and Zach were halves of a whole.

  Why did it have to happen to Zach? He was the best man I knew. He helped people every day.

  I smashed the pillow in anger, but it didn’t help. Zach was going to die a horrible death, and Kat would have to die it with him.

  I cried till I didn’t have any more tears. Then I took two sleeping pills, the first I’d taken since Greg left, and slept the day away.

  My doorbell rang at six.

  My eyes almost swollen shut, I threw on my robe and hurried to answer it, swiping at my wild bed hair. I looked through the glass curtains on the sidelight and saw Kat standing there with a heavy pot, her expression contorting.

  I opened the door and took the pot, which clanked. “Come in, honey.”

  She didn’t even react to my appearance, just came inside and waited till I closed the door, then fell to her knees, wailing, “Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God! He’s dyin’! Not just dyin’—dyin’ long and horrible!”