What Have You Done(35)

Liam pulled around the man-made lake and noticed a cluster of geese floating atop the glassy surface. The scene looked peaceful with the backdrop of budding cherry trees stretching out into a small forest. He made a left onto the first street and stopped in front of 1432, a corner unit that was two stories and adjacent to the community pool area.

Sean got out of the car without saying a word. They hadn’t spoken much since Liam picked him up at the diner. The ride to Doylestown had been long and awkward with only superficial questions being bandied about to dot the otherwise endless landscape of quiet.

Marisol Carpenter, Don’s mother, was standing at the front door, arms outstretched, waiting to embrace her boys. Her hair was a cluster of white curls, grown down past her ears but not quite touching her shoulders. She was old-age slender, her skin hanging in places it hadn’t when she was younger. Her lips were thin, and the way her cheekbones poked out from under her glasses made her face seem longer than it really was. She looked fragile, but at the moment, she seemed very much alive.

“My boys are here!” she cried as she scooped Sean into a mighty hug. “It’s so good to see you! Been too long. Too long!”

Sean hugged her back and rubbed her shoulders. “It’s good to see you, Marisol. You’re right. It’s been way too long.”

“And my Liam is here. Hello! Come give Mama a hug and a kiss.”

Liam did as he was told, and she pulled him close. “How’s Vanessa?”

“She’s fine.”

“I’m so glad to see you.”

“Me too, Marisol.”

She grabbed Liam by the hand and pulled him inside. Sean followed and shut the door behind them.

The inside of the condo looked as if it was still in the process of being moved into, despite Don having moved his mother from her home in Cherry Hill over a year ago. It had the essentials—seats to sit in, a table to eat on, utensils to cook with, and pots and pans to cook in—but for the most part, the place was bare. Aside from an oversized picture collage of Marisol’s family hanging above a gas fireplace, the walls were empty. A love seat, two wingback chairs, and a round coffee table took up the small living room. A kitchen table and an antique secretary’s desk she’d taken from her home filled the dining area. Other than that, there was nothing.

“Can I get you boys something to drink? You hungry?”

“We’re fine,” Liam replied.

He followed Marisol into the living room and thought about bringing her up some things to decorate with next time he visited. A few picture frames. Some art for the walls. Curtains. Something.

A younger woman sitting in one of the wingback chairs stood when they entered. She looked to be in her late thirties and had olive skin, black hair that hung to the midway point of her back, and brown eyes. She was wearing green scrubs with a white lab coat over them.

“This is my nurse,” Marisol said, pointing to the young woman. “Adena Khan. She takes very good care of me.”

Adena extended her hand, and Liam shook it.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said.

Liam smiled. “We appreciate you meeting with us.”

He sat down on the love seat, and Sean sat next to him after also shaking the young woman’s hand. Marisol plopped into the other wingback chair, and Adena returned to hers.

“How have you been, Marisol?” Sean asked.

The old woman shrugged. “Good, I guess. I can’t complain. I mean I could, but no one would pay me no mind.”

“They treating you okay here?”

“It’s an assisted living facility. I call them when I need them. They assist. It’s fine.” She reached over and patted Adena on the knee. “And my nurse has been wonderful. The things she puts up with. An angel!”

Sean leaned forward in his seat, resting his arms on his knees. “Marisol, we need to ask you a few questions about this past Saturday night, and I’m hoping you can remember. Because of the HIPAA laws and patient confidentiality, I couldn’t get any information over the phone. We’re not family.”

“Nonsense,” Marisol replied. “You’re family as far as I’m concerned.”

“Not blood. But that’s okay. I just need to ask you these questions, and if you give your permission, I can ask Ms. Khan a few as well.”

“You know you can ask me anything you want. Go.”

Sean cleared his throat. “I want you to tell me about the episode you had on Saturday night. You woke up confused? Had to call Don?”

Marisol looked away from Sean for a moment. An expression of determination overcame her as if she was willing the memory to come, forcing it back into her mind. She looked back at the brothers. “I think I remember. Yes, I’m pretty sure my Don had come to see me.”

“So Don came up?”

“Yes, I think so.” She turned to Adena. “Did my son come up Saturday night?”

The nurse opened a file that was sitting on her lap. “It looks like your son checked in on Saturday night at 11:16 and checked out at 1:34.”

“So he was here a few hours,” Marisol said.

“Yes,” Adena replied. “He helped get you back into bed and then stayed to make sure you weren’t waking up again.”

“I had an episode?”

“You woke up and were confused where you were. You were scared and rang your call button, but you wouldn’t let the night nurses help you. You kept asking for Don, so we called him.”