Not Perfect(56)

“Hey, Levi, do we have to go back to The Family Meal anytime soon?” Tabitha asked. Fern was sitting on the gurney. She had calmed down, but she was clearly still in pain. Tabitha took a quick bite, then dropped her sandwich into her bag.

“I don’t want to go anymore,” he said. “I don’t want to do any of it. I don’t want to have a bar mitzvah.”

Before Tabitha had a chance to take in what he just said, there was a light knock on the glass door, it slid to the side, and a lady walked in pushing a computer on a stand.

“Good evening,” she said. “I’m from registration.”

“Hi,” Tabitha said to her, but what she wanted to do was turn to Levi and say, What do you mean?

“Are you Mom?” the lady asked. The words No, I’m Pocahontas ran through Tabitha’s mind, but she sighed and said yes.

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling good,” she said to Fern, and Tabitha immediately felt bad that she was annoyed by this lady. Maybe she could get a job doing this, it must not require any medical expertise. But she would have to do it at a hospital far away, or else she would be sure to run into people she knew.

“Thanks,” Fern said sweetly.

“So, what I need from you, Mom, is your insurance card, and I’ll need you to sign a few things on the screen.”

“Okay,” Tabitha said. She dug around in her purse for her insurance card and handed it over, hoping for the best. The lady put it through a scanner of some sort and handed it back. She waited, but there was no discussion about whether it was good or not.

“Now, please read this and sign,” the lady said. Tabitha scanned the screen, barely acknowledging what it said, and signed. “And here,” the lady said. Tabitha did it again. Really, for all she knew it could have said that if her insurance company didn’t pay up that she’d owe the hospital her kids, but she just couldn’t focus.

“Thank you,” the lady said, pushing the cart out. Before she closed the door she turned back to Fern. “I hope you feel better, honey.”

“What do you mean, you don’t want to have a bar mitzvah?” Tabitha said, sounding much angrier than she felt. Why did she even care? This was always, always Stuart’s thing. But no, it had become their thing—and it was supposed to be Levi’s thing. It was still important—with or without Stuart.

“I just don’t,” he said sulkily.

“But,” Tabitha said. But what? You have to? It’s the right thing to do? Tabitha didn’t even know.

They sat in silence. Tabitha was so happy to be the one waiting for a decision to be made, to not be the one in charge, that she didn’t mind any of it, except Fern’s pain. Finally, a doctor came in who ordered blood work and an X-ray. Levi sat and looked at his phone the whole time, asking for two more sandwiches, and Tabitha was glad. She had thought briefly about leaving him at home—it would have been okay—but he seemed so worked up about Fern, and now he had gotten plenty to eat. When they finally gave Fern pain medication, she perked up considerably. The tests didn’t show anything, which was mostly good, because they were able to rule out some of the worst possible things, but bad because they still didn’t know what was causing this. They said she could go home and ordered a series of other tests for the week ahead. With the pain medication, Fern was able to walk, though very slowly. They took a cab back to the apartment, which Tabitha paid for with her Visa—this definitely counted as an emergency—and the kids went right to bed. Even though it wasn’t actually very late, it felt late. Tabitha sent Holly a text, filling her in and thanking her again. Holly sent back a smiley face.

As Tabitha took off the fleece jacket she’d been wearing all day, she remembered the slip of paper with the phone number on it. She reached into the pocket and pulled it out. The phone number was there, clear as day, but there was nothing else, no name or initials, nothing on the back. She held it in her hand as she hung the coat up in the front closet. She thought Stuart might have been wearing the jacket on the last night he was home. Yes, she was sure of it, because it was an unusually chilly night in August, almost unheard of, and also, she remembered thinking it was on the casual side for work. Her first idea was to add it to the list of clues, she wasn’t quite ready to actually explore it. It wasn’t until she got to her room and reached for the side table drawer that she remembered she had gotten rid of the list. She pictured it ripped up and soggy at the bottom of the sewer, or stuck to the insides of her pipes. That would be somehow fitting.

Fine, she thought, I’m just going to call. She was so tired of not finding answers; she wanted to actually get some. Although she didn’t dare hope for much—it could simply lead her to a local law office or maybe the miners’ union office. It was Saturday, so unlikely that anyone would answer, anyway. But she needed to try, and this was practically handed to her on a platter. She picked up the house phone so the number would be blocked, just in case, and dialed. It was answered right away.

“Marquette General,” a gruff man said.

Tabitha hung up. Once again, she had that terrible feeling that she’d been caught at something. It took her a minute to catch her breath. She called back. The gruff man answered the same way, but sounded even gruffer this time.

“Did you say, ‘Marquette General’?” Tabitha asked, trying to disguise her voice, which she knew was ridiculous. “As in, ‘Marquette General Hospital’?”