Nutcase Read online

  “I’m on my way over now,” Thad said.

  “I’ll meet you,” I said, knowing I would have to cancel my first appointment of the day.

  I drove to the hospital, thankful that traffic was not bad at that hour. I found Thad and Edith standing in the hall. Edith wore a dark scowl. They glanced up as I approached.

  “Marie has been a naughty girl,” Thad said.

  “What has she done?” I asked.

  Edith wasted no time. “Last night at dinner she claimed the food was filled with toxins and unfit for human consumption. She threw her tray on the floor.” Edith looked from me to Thad and back at me. “Good thing I wasn’t here.”

  Thad and I exchanged looks.

  “I’ve got a padded cell with her name on it,” Edith continued. “If she wants to act ugly, that’s going to be her new address. I don’t deal with ugly.”

  “Where is Marie now?” I asked.

  “She’s confined to her room. I’ve got Debra sitting outside her door.” Edith looked at me. “You’ve met Debra. Big black woman? Six foot three, two hundred and fifty pounds? Nobody gets by Debra.”

  “I’ve increased the dosage on Marie’s Vistaril,” Thad said.

  Edith checked her wristwatch. “I have a meeting,” she grumbled. “And here I was counting on having a good day.”

  I watched her disappear down the hall. “I don’t think Edith is very happy with our patient or us,” I said.

  Thad looked bewildered. “Which is surprising since I went out of the way to be especially charming,” he said.

  “I’d better look in on Marie,” I said. “When I get back to the office I’m going to contact the police and see if a missing persons report has been filed with her description.”

  “Good idea,” he said. He glanced at his watch. “I have back-to-back appointments. We’ll play catch-up later.” He started down the hall, then turned. “Have you given any more thought to my offer?”

  “How soon can Mona and I move in?” I asked.

  Thad reached into his pocket, pulled out a key, and tossed it to me. I caught it in one hand and prayed I wasn’t making a monumental mistake.

  I found Debra sitting outside Marie’s room reading Jet magazine. “I need to see my patient,” I whispered.

  The woman didn’t look up from her magazine. “Okay, but if she starts singing about hound dogs and pickup trucks I’m going to throw her in a cold shower, clothes and all,” she added.

  Marie was lying on her bed. Her eyelids were heavy, and she seemed to be struggling to stay awake. She did not look happy to see me. “I hate this place,” she said, her voice thick.

  “You’d make things easier on yourself and everyone else if you’d settle down and give the medication time to get into your system.”

  “They just want to drug me so I’ll be less trouble,” she managed. “I know how it works.”

  “Who wanted to drug you in the past?” I asked.

  She didn’t respond.

  “We’re just trying to keep you calm until the new mood-stabilizing drug Dr. Glazer prescribed starts working. You should be feeling better in a couple of days.”

  “Not as long at Attila the Hun is running the show,” she said and closed her eyes.

  “You need to try to cooperate and not make trouble,” I said. “It’s best if you remain on Edith’s good side.”

  “She has a good side?”

  “I can’t swear to it.” Marie didn’t hear my response because she had drifted off.

  My eleven o’clock patient, Alice Smithers, suffered from dissociative identity disorder, otherwise, and more traditionally, known as multiple personality disorder. There were more people living in her head than in most Italian households. Alice had sought my help when she began having problems at her last job, where she worked as an accountant. Accusations of affairs and skimming money had resulted, and she was given two weeks to find another job. To top it off, Alice’s new roommate, Liz Jones, was partying half the night with her boyfriend, trashing Alice’s condo, and had even stolen her credit card. It hadn’t occurred to me that Alice’s confusion, bewilderment, and poor memory were due to MPD until it was almost too late for both of us. Liz Jones was actually one of Alice’s alter personalities, and the abusive boyfriend had put Alice in the hospital and attacked me as well. We’d later discovered that Liz was skimming money, sleeping with Alice’s boss, and blackmailing him.

  In the land of mental health, Alice was known as the host personality. She hid her good looks beneath clunky eyeglasses and ill-fitting clothes in shades of brown. It was Mona’s wildest dream that Alice would get well and gain some fashion sense in the process.

  Liz Jones, on the other hand, dressed provocatively, slept around, and was a reckless spender, which is why Alice had cut up her credit cards.

  I invited Alice to take a seat on the sofa in my office, and after grabbing her file, I took the chair next to her. “How’s our new senior accountant doing?” I asked, proud that Alice had not only landed a job with a prestigious firm but had climbed the ranks quickly.

  She took a deep breath. “I like being challenged, but it can also be stressful. I’m constantly worried about losing time.”

  Losing time, sort of like an alcoholic blacking out, usually meant the appearance of an alter personality. “You’re afraid Liz will show up and do something that will cause you to lose your job?” I asked.

  “Yes. You know how she is.”

  I’d seen very little of Liz since Thad and I had been consulting on Alice’s treatment plan. He’d prescribed a psychotropic drug and was seeing Alice every other week for med checks, but it was Liz Jones that showed up because she was hot for Thad. Since I served no purpose for her, she kept quiet during my sessions with Alice.

  “What would Liz have to gain by getting you fired?” I asked. “It would create hardship for her as well.”

  Alice seemed to think about it.

  “As for the other personalities, they have proved helpful. I can’t see how they would pose a threat.”

  “Since I haven’t met them, I have to take your word for it,” she said.

  The other personalities knew about Alice and had listened to our conversations, but Alice knew nothing about them.

  “Like I said, Emily is very personable. I think she was a great asset during your job interviews, especially when you felt so depressed. And Sue was the one who scanned the employment classifieds, wrote a kick-butt resume, and mailed it out to more than a dozen companies. They both have your best interests at heart.” Sue seemed to be the glue that held everything together when Alice became stressed and overwhelmed. Frankly, I wished I had someone like Sue in my life.

  “I suppose I should feel relieved and appreciative that they are so eager to help me,” Alice said, “but as we both know, not everyone has my best interests at heart.”

  We were back to Liz again. “I think you’re giving Liz more power by fearing her,” I said. “You’re turning her into the monster beneath the bed.”

  “She is a monster!” Alice said. “She almost got us killed.”

  Alice had a valid point there.

  “Have you been practicing your relaxation exercises and writing in your journal?” I asked. I had tried to impress upon her the importance of keeping a journal as a way of lessening her stress. Stress was one of the reasons Alice sometimes took a hike and allowed an alter to handle her problems.

  “I listen to the relaxation tapes before I go to sleep at night,” she said, “but I get a little freaked writing in my journal since I’m not the only one making entries.” She sighed. “It’s not like I can hide my journal from them, you know?”

  I gave a sympathetic nod. It would have been funny if the situation weren’t so serious. I’d seen Alice’s journal, including the entries made by Emily and Sue and even Liz. What was fascinating was that the handwriting was different and while one personality was right-handed, another could be a lefty. Also, each personality had a different outlook on li
fe.

  Emily’s writing was curvy with tiny circles dotting her i’s and with smiley faces waiting at the end of her sentences. Emily longed to get out more and socialize because she was extroverted. Alice’s and Sue’s handwriting were similar; very neat and precise. They both enjoyed reading and browsing in antique shops.

  Liz’s strokes were large and bold because she only used a black felt-tip pen; and she spouted a lot of four-letter words and complained bitterly about the lack of fun in her life. She resented the others and often spoke about getting even, leaving me to wonder if Alice was right. Liz might just be the monster beneath the bed.

  chapter 5

  “Your mother called during your session with Alice and Friends,” Mona said as I stared into the back of the small refrigerator to see if I could find real food. “She said it was urgent.”

  Everything was urgent as far as my mother was concerned. “How come we never have anything to eat back here?” I asked, noting that the only edible objects were small packets of soy sauce. It reminded me of my refrigerator at home.

  “Do you want me to run downstairs and buy you a sandwich?” Mona asked.

  I imagined Mona standing in line wearing her nurse’s uniform from what looked like the 1970s. “No.” I closed the refrigerator.

  “Have you made any decisions about where we’re going to move?” Mona asked. “I think I should order business cards or at least have an address on hand to give to your patients. Maybe we could only give the new address to those who pay their bills. Even better, we could only give the address to those we like.” She looked thoughtful. “Uh-oh,” she said. “That would leave us with nobody.”

  “That’s not nice,” I said. “You can’t dislike people just because they have emotional problems that make them a real pain in the butt to deal with.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  I ignored the comment. “As for where we’re going, I’ve accepted Thad’s offer. He’s going to add a desk to the reception area for you.” I held my breath. I hoped Mona wasn’t going to lecture me, or I would be forced to repeat how desperate I was.

  As if reading my mind, she smiled. “It’ll be great working in a nice office,” she said, “and I can’t wait to meet Bunny. I’ll bet she and I end up being best friends. We can go out to lunch and shop together. The three of us can have sleepovers.”

  “I knew you’d be crazy about the idea,” I said, turning for my office.

  “Just one more question,” Mona said. “How are we going to get from here to there? Is Bunny going to give us a ride in her Barbie car?”

  I gave Mona a smug look. “It just so happens I know a woman who owns a red monster-sized pickup truck,” I said.

  My mother answered on the first ring. “You’re not going to believe this,” she said as soon as I spoke from the other end.

  “Try me.”

  “Trixie went out on a date with Eddie Franks last night.”

  Oh hell, I thought. “Really?” I said instead.

  “I don’t trust him,” she said. “He’s too slick for Trixie. Plus, if he’s a patient of yours, I know he must be psycho to boot.”

  “Not all of my patients are psycho, Mom. And you don’t know that he’s a patient.”

  “I didn’t just fall off the back of a turnip truck,” she said, “and you know as well as I do that your aunt is dumber than cow dung when it comes to men. I don’t think she’s had a date in twenty-five years.”

  “Did Aunt Trixie say whether she had a good time?” I asked.

  “She got up humming this morning. She never hums. I hope he didn’t take her to a motel.”

  I was more concerned about Eddie taking my aunt to the cleaners.

  “Mom, I don’t think Aunt Trixie would go to a motel with a man she barely knows.”

  “Do you know the last time either one of us actually did it? We have urges just like everyone else, you know.”

  The last thing I wanted to hear about was my mother’s and aunt’s urges. “Mom—”

  “She wouldn’t even know to practice safe sex,” she interrupted.

  “Would she tell you if anything happened between Eddie and her?” I asked. “I’ve never known the two of you to keep secrets from each other.”

  “Oh, like she’s going to admit to a one-night stand. In our day, only sluts did that sort of thing. We would never have carried on like you and Mona do today.”

  I let the comment slide. I often did that with my mother. “I think you’re worried over nothing. And to be perfectly honest, it’s really none of our business what Aunt Trixie does or does not do,” I added, although I had every intention of interrogating Eddie Franks during his next appointment.

  My mother gave a grunt. “If Trixie gets the clap it’s going to be your fault.”

  I wondered if this was the best time to discuss my move. I realized I had no choice, because I was tired of feeling stressed and desperate. “Mom, I need a favor,” I said. “I need to borrow your truck.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m moving to another office. I mostly need to move books and supplies and a couple of filing cabinets.”

  “And you want to use my truck! Are you crazy? I’m the only one who drives that truck. Anyway, why are you moving? Have you not been paying your rent on time? If you had stayed with Jay he could have helped you budget your money better.”

  I listened to her go on. I was lucky that before my father died he had instilled a lot of good stuff in me. He had convinced me that I could do anything I set my mind to. He had taught me to believe in myself, and, despite my mother’s best attempts, she had never taken that from me. It wasn’t that she was cruel. It was simply her way.

  “I’m being evicted for blowing up my office,” I said, knowing I was only giving her more ammunition. For some reason I didn’t care.

  Silence on the other end.

  “Where are you moving to?” she finally asked.

  “I’m going to share office space with Thad Glazer.”

  “That pervert ex-boyfriend who used you?”

  “Yes, that’s the one.”

  “Oh brother. What does Jay think about that?”

  I hesitated but decided I had no choice but to be up front with her. “I haven’t told him.”

  Again, silence. It was rare that I could render my mother speechless. I’ll admit I was feeling proud of myself.

  “He is never going to take you back now,” she whispered.

  “I have to be out this Friday.”

  “That’s three days from now! Why did you wait until the last minute? What have you been doing all this time? Next thing you’ll tell me is that you haven’t even packed. No, don’t tell me. I already know.” She gave a long-suffering sigh.

  “On second thought, I should probably hire professional movers,” I said. “It’ll be quicker and a lot easier on everybody.” I held my breath and waited.

  “Don’t be ridiculous! There is no way I’m going to stand by and allow you to pay an exorbitant amount of money to hire movers when your aunt Trixie and I are perfectly capable of packing and moving your office. We’ll be there first thing in the morning with the boxes,” she said. “I’ll get your uncle and cousin to come in Friday morning to move the heavy stuff.”

  I felt a sense of dread. My cousin Lucien played in a band called the Dead Artists and had tattooed and pierced all his body parts. Although much younger than I was, he had never made a secret that he harbored incestuous thoughts. I shuddered to think about it.

  “Just leave everything to me,” my mother said.

  We disconnected and I leaned back in my chair. I had clearly manipulated her. Since I was not a manipulative person, I struggled with guilt for a few minutes. It was what my mother would have most wanted for me.

  I found Mona on the phone. I waited for her to finish the call. “The moving arrangements have been made,” I said proudly.

  “Well, that’s a relief.”

  “How about we go to lunch? My treat.”


  Mona looked surprised. “Sure. Where are we going?”

  “I don’t care as long as it’s close to the fire station. I feel like dropping by to say hi to Jay.”

  “That will take forever with the traffic.”

  I told her about the new probie with the large breasts. “The problem is she’s been there at least two weeks and Jay hasn’t mentioned her. I had to hear it from someone else.”

  “Does he usually discuss new people coming in?”

  “He often makes passing remarks. I suppose I should overlook it. They’re dealing with what looks to be a serial arsonist.”

  “That’s not good.” She looked thoughtful. “I wonder just how big those breasts are?”

  “There’s only one way to find out.”

  I quickly made my way into my office and grabbed my purse. I found Mona standing beside the door leading from the reception room, her own purse in hand. “Ready to roll?” she said.

  I tried to dodge as much traffic as I could while driving south toward the heart of the city where Jay’s engine company was located. As with most metropolitan areas, downtown Atlanta was skirted with a number of rough neighborhoods where crime, including intentional fire setting, ran rampant. Condemned buildings waited months for demo crews; they were enough of a fire hazard without someone putting a match to them. Jay had chosen to work in a high-risk area because he felt that was where he was most needed. It was also the most dangerous.

  A half hour later we pulled into an Arby’s. I placed three orders at the window. Mona and I ate on the way.

  “I’m sure the woman is qualified or she would never have been hired in the first place,” Mona said.

  “Jay said she was not bad, but I think hiring her had a lot to do with her father. He was the fire captain when Jay signed on.”

  We pulled into the parking lot of the fire station, and I parked. “Okay, we’re going to pretend we were in the neighborhood and decided to surprise Jay with lunch.”

  “Like he’s going to believe it?” Mona said.