The New Husband(80)
“What have you heard?” Susanna asked.
“Let’s go,” said Nina. “I’ll tell you on the way.”
They signed in as visitors and followed the signs to the third floor, where Dr. Wilcox had been moved after leaving the ICU. To everyone’s collective disappointment, she was asleep when they arrived. A sweet-faced nurse agreed to let them leave the bright bouquet Ginny had purchased, along with a card Nina had selected.
The cubicle was small and crammed with machines. Nina didn’t know a thing about all of the tubes, IVs, and equipment hooked up to Dr. Wilcox, but she had no difficulty understanding the extent of damage someone had inflicted on her.
Gauze bandages covered much of her head, and hideous black-and-blue bruises made Dr. Wilcox’s face somewhat unrecognizable. Did she fight off her attacker? Nina wondered. Are those defensive injuries to her hands? Did her assailant use a knife? Nina swallowed hard. Her gaze traveled back to the battered and bandaged face, taking in the horrific stain of violence.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Can I touch her hand?”
The nurse to whom Nina directed her question returned a quick nod. “She’s heavily medicated, but I’m sure she knows you’re here and I’m sure she’s grateful.”
They stayed only a few minutes, as instructed, before taking themselves to the coffee shop across the street from the hospital. Nina got their drinks without needing to ask for anybody’s order: a chai latte for Susanna, an espresso for herself, and a green tea for Ginny. It was a reminder of how close she was to these women, how well she knew their tastes, personality quirks, everything, and how little she’d seen them lately. Again, Nina found herself crediting Simon’s prescience. She was no longer readily available to anybody—not just her daughter.
Nina carried the drinks over to the table where Ginny and Susanna sat talking.
“I can’t get over how awful she looked,” Ginny said, giving her tea a cautious sip.
The women talked for a time about Dr. Wilcox, the horror of her injuries, and how they might support her during the recovery process.
“Who do you think did this to her?” Susanna asked, her voice a whisper, as if the assailant could be nearby.
Nobody had a good answer. Nina contemplated sharing how she and Simon had planned to start couples therapy with Dr. Wilcox, but something silenced her. She knew the impetus was the tense exchange they’d had about Hugh. It would be hard, if not impossible, to talk about Hugh Dolan without telling her friends how she’d contacted him, his attempt at extortion, to say nothing of the reason he thought they should meet.
You’re not safe …
She had no desire to dredge up Ginny’s and Susanna’s growing concern about Simon. Soon the conversation segued from Dr. Wilcox and possible suspects to more familiar topics—kids, town gossip, and committee nonsense. Everyone laughed when Ginny told a story about finding a mouse in her car, which really put an end to the pall that had made even mundane chitchat feel weighty.
“It’s good to talk,” Susanna said.
Ginny’s eyes turned serious. “We need to make it a priority to see each other more often,” she said with authority. “What happened to Dr. Wilcox is a wake-up call to us all. Any day could be our last.”
“You just never know,” Susanna concurred. “But Nina, you’ve got to own this more than anybody. We don’t see you anymore.”
Nina tensed at the jab, which had hit on an uncomfortable truth.
“That’s not true,” she said, feeling an immediate need to go on the defensive. “We’ve seen each other.”
Ginny and Susanna exchanged a knowing glance.
“Girls’ weekend,” Ginny said. “Workouts you can’t do with us because you have a home gym.”
She said “home gym” with her nose in the air like it was highfalutin’.
“Movie dates you canceled,” Susanna said, getting her phone out. “And we’re not leaving here without making a firm plan for dinner. Let’s go to Cucina Toscana again. I’m dying for the calamari. It was amazing. Nina, you would know that if you hadn’t blown us off the last time.”
For a moment, Nina had no idea what Susanna was talking about, but then she recalled the evening Simon had gotten suddenly and violently ill, forcing her to cancel dinner plans at that same restaurant. Something else coalesced in Nina’s mind, another memory, this one more recent—the bottle of ipecac syrup she’d found under the bathroom vanity.
She had assumed Simon brought it in the confusion of packing. People often kept outdated meds around. Of course, it was plausible he’d packed it by accident. But something else was possible, too, Nina realized. Simon could have used the syrup on himself.
Nina searched for a motive, some reason Simon would want to purposely make himself violently ill. Her thoughts flashed to Teresa, and to Chris, her obsessive boyfriend who’d faked having cancer to keep Teresa by his side. A fierce chill crept up her spine. He wanted to keep me home. He wanted to keep me with him. Did Simon use Maggie that night as a ploy to keep me from leaving the house? Nina put herself back in that moment, remembering how they had both been reluctant to leave Maggie alone, especially when Simon was so ill. Had it all been an act? Could he be using Maggie now, manufacturing emotional problems for her to try and force me to leave work?