Where'd You Go, Bernadette(50)
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Van,
You’re a fucking house sitter. Bernadette is sick. Bee doesn’t know. I need you to spend the day with Bee while I get Bernadette help. I know we’ve lost touch, but I want Bee to be with family. I apologize if the hotel offer appeared brusque. My house is a shambles. The guest room has been boarded up for years because of a hole in the floor that nobody bothered to repair. It all relates to Bernadette’s illness. Come on.
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Elgie,
I’ll do it for Bee. Book me on the direct flight out of Kona. There’s one first-class seat left, and it would be sweet if you could nab it. There’s a Four Seasons that shows availability in junior suites facing the water. I found someone to cover for me so there’s no rush flying me back.
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Authorization Request Submitted by Dr. Janelle Kurtz
REQUEST TO BILL FOR OFF-ISLAND APPOINTMENT
RE: BERNADETTE FOX/ELGIN BRANCH
Bernadette Fox was brought to my attention on December 12. Her husband, Elgin Branch, a friend of board member Hannah Dillard, wrote me a long-winded and highly emotional letter inquiring about involuntary commitment (Attachment #1).
Mr. Branch’s description of his wife suggested social anxiety, medication-seeking behavior, agoraphobia, poor impulse control, untreated postpartum depression, and possible mania. If I were to take him at his word, I’d posit a dual diagnosis of substance abuse and bipolar type two.
I wrote back to Mr. Branch, explained the law, and suggested his wife seek therapy (Attachment #2).
Yesterday I received a call from Mr. Branch requesting a face-to-face meeting. He spoke of new developments with his wife, including suicidal ideation.
I find Mr. Branch’s call curious, if not suspicious, for the following reasons.
1. TIMING: In my reply to Mr. Branch, I spelled out that in order to have his wife involuntarily committed, she would have to prove imminently harmful to herself or others. Within days, he claims to be in possession of such evidence.
2. RESISTANCE TO SEEK THERAPY: Mr. Branch seems fixated on having Ms. Fox committed at Madrona Hill. Why wouldn’t he first seek outpatient therapy for his wife?
3. SECRECY: Mr. Branch refuses to divulge specific information over the phone, instead insisting we meet in person.
4. URGENCY: On the phone today, Mr. Branch begged me to see him immediately, ideally at his office.
Taken together, I have reason to question Mr. Branch’s motives and credibility. However, I feel I must follow up. Madrona Hill has twice been notified of Ms. Fox’s behavior. Since suicide was explicitly mentioned, it is now a matter of liability. Further, Mr. Branch’s tenacity suggests he will not stop contacting me until we meet.
I will be in Seattle lecturing at the UW. I have arranged to meet Mr. Branch at his office this evening. I recognize that this is an unusual arrangement, but I am happy to make the extra effort for the friend of a board member. My hope is to convince Mr. Branch to look elsewhere for more appropriate treatment for his wife.
I told him my rate was $275/hr plus time and a half for travel. He understands that we do not bill insurance and that my trip to his office is most likely not covered.
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From: Audrey Griffin
To: Soo-Lin Lee-Segal
Hey you! I got gingerbread houses to decorate after school. When will you be home? I want to know when to pop the roast in the oven.
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From: Soo-Lin Lee-Segal
To: Audrey Griffin
As I said, I’m superbusy at work, so I won’t be back for dinner. But my mouth is watering just thinking about your famous roast!
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From: Audrey Griffin
To: Soo-Lin Lee-Segal
Don’t think I can’t take a hint. How about I get in my car and deliver you a plate myself?
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From: Soo-Lin Lee-Segal
To: Audrey Griffin
How about you don’t? Thanks, though!
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That Tuesday, I was in my room doing homework when the phone rang twice, which meant someone was at the gate, and which also signaled dinner. I pushed *7 to open the gate, then went downstairs and met the courier. I was psyched to see he had bags from Tilth. I brought the food to the kitchen. Dad was standing there, grinding his jaw.
“I thought you were working,” I said. The last couple of nights he hadn’t come home, and I figured he was pulling all-nighters because of Antarctica.
“I want to see how you’re faring,” he said.
“Me?” I said. “I’m fine.”
Mom came in from the Petit Trianon and kicked off her rain boots. “Hey, look who’s home! I’m glad. I ordered too much food.”
“Hi, Bernadette.” Dad didn’t hug Mom.
I peeled back the edges of the take-out containers and set them in front of our chairs at the kitchen table.
“Let’s do plates tonight.” Mom got china from the pantry, and I slid the food onto the nice dishes.
But Dad just stood there, his parka zipped. “I have some news. Van is coming tomorrow.”
Uncle Van was my only uncle and therefore my favorite uncle. Mom had a nickname for him, which was Van “Are You Going to Eat the Rest of That?” Branch. He lives in Hawaii, in a caretaker’s cottage on a huge estate that belongs to a Hollywood movie producer. The Hollywood producer was hardly ever there, but he must have OCD because he pays Van to go to the house every day and flush the toilets. The Hollywood producer also has a house in Aspen, and one winter the pipes froze and the toilets overflowed and wrecked a bunch of antiques so he’s totally paranoid about it happening again, even though pipes can’t freeze in Hawaii. So, as Mom likes to point out, Van flushes toilets for a living. Once we went to Hawaii, and Van took me on a tour of the estate and let me flush the toilets, which was funny.