Cracks in the Sidewalk(42)

“Well—”

“Because,” the judge continued, “if you are unable to provide a satisfactory explanation, I will hold both you and your client in contempt of court. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Noreen answered without a hint of promiscuousness. “Unfortunately,” she added, trying to pull thoughts from the air, “my client has been extremely ill for several weeks. It’s a very bad case of stress. He’s torn apart by this situation and—”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Judge Brill snapped. “If he’s too stressed to see Doctor Belleau, then he’s too stressed to make decisions for three minor children! Either I have Doctor Belleau’s analysis of him on my desk by the end of this week, or I will award custody of those children to the mother!”

“But the mother is—”

Judge Brill banged down the receiver.

Within the hour, Jeffrey Caruthers telephoned Doctor Belleau’s office and scheduled an appointment for that afternoon.



As JT walked down the hallway to Dr. Belleau’s office, he slipped into the persona he felt best suited to the occasion.

The moment Doctor Belleau entered the room JT flashed a toothy smile and stuck out his hand. “I apologize for missing our previous appointment.”

“Actually, you’ve missed three,” Peter Belleau answered.

“Ah, yes, and I truly regret that. But please bear in mind that my first and foremost concern is my children and caring for them. Unfortunately doing this all by myself leaves very little free time. ”

Feeling no sympathy after the way Judge Brill had lit into him, the doctor gave an insincere smile and led Jeffrey Caruthers back to his office. Once they were seated in the brown leather chairs, Peter Belleau suggested Jeffrey give a bit of background on himself.

“There’s not much to tell,” JT said pleasantly. “I’m a dedicated husband and father, and that’s pretty much it.”

“Oh,” Doctor Belleau mused. “My understanding was that you refused to allow your wife to return to your house once you learned she had a terminal condition. Is that true?”

“That’s my motherin-law’s version of what happened. It was nothing like that.”

“What was it like?”

JT uncrossed his legs and then re-crossed them. “Well, I never actually refused to allow Liz to return home, I only said it would be difficult for me to take care of her.”

“Did you say difficult or impossible?” Doctor Belleau asked.

“Hmm,” JT stalled, giving the appearance of trying to remember. “I can’t say.”

“If I told you that your in-laws are prepared to provide a live-in helper to care for Elizabeth, would you be willing to have her return to the house?”

The possibility caused Jeffrey to become visibly agitated; suddenly his foot began bouncing up and down. “No. I would not allow her to return to the house.”

“And why would that be?”

“Why?” Jeffrey repeated angrily. “Don’t ask me why when you already know! Liz is sick. She’s worse than sick, she’s dying! I love my kids, and I don’t want them exposed to all that sickness and death!”

“Aren’t they Elizabeth’s children also?”

“She’s dying. Do you not understand? Dying means she’s on her way to being dead. What’s a dead woman gonna do with kids—drag them into the coffin alongside of her? No way. Not my kids. They don’t need that kind of heartache.”

“What kind of heartache?”

“You’re the shrink, you tell me!”

“I could argue that it would be beneficial for children to establish a relationship with their mother before she—”

“Are you kidding?! You’re supposed to be a psychologist, and you’re telling me it’s a good thing for kids to bond with a mother who’s got one foot in the grave? Why, so they can have nightmares about her death?”

“Is it possible that, given time to understand, they might ultimately be more accepting of her death?”

“No, it’s not possible,” Jeffrey answered, turning his face away.

“And why is that?”

“You think you know so much, but all that psycho mumbo-jumbo doesn’t mean squat to little kids. With them it’s out of sight, out of mind. They haven’t seen Liz for almost ten months, and pretty soon they’ll just quit asking about her.”

“Do they ask now?”

“Sometimes. Not often. Christian just turned one; he’s never known his mother, so he’s never gonna ask about her. The other two, they’ll forget in time.”

“What about Elizabeth, do you think she’s forgotten her children?”

“Obviously not,” JT replied disdainfully, “or she wouldn’t be putting me through this torture.”

“Do you think she’s doing this just to torture you?”

“Probably.”

“Isn’t it possible that she simply wants to see the children?”

“If she really cared, she’d spare them the agony.”

“What if she believes that losing their mother without ever having a chance to say goodbye is a far greater agony?”