“I will.”
“And don’t antagonize Hale any more than you have to. It’s not smart.”
“But it’s so much fun.” She winked as she opened the car door. “Later, my love.” She bounded up the steps to the back door, giving him a wave as he sped out of the drive. Again, she looked at the gate house. If she was lucky, Hale would stay there all night. And rot.
After pouring herself a glass of orange juice in the kitchen, Ivy grabbed her purse and headed up to her bedroom. As she switched on the light next to her bed, she noticed the time. Nearly eleven. Even though she’d been up since dawn, she wasn’t the slightest bit tired. She wondered how Louie was — and how Sarah was doing. She and Max had run into him yesterday evening coming out of a downtown restaurant. She wondered if Louie knew about them. If he hadn’t known before last night, he probably knew now. Oh, well. It didn’t matter. Louie despised Hale. Twenty years ago, if it hadn’t been for Hale Micklenberg’s youthful charm, she might have married Louie. No, he would keep his mouth shut. The one person in the world Ivy knew she could trust completely was Louie Sigerson. She decided to give him a call. It was late, but she knew he would be up. Besides, she had a favor to ask.
The phone rang several times before he answered.
“Hi,” she said, kicking off her shoes and lifting her feet up on the bed. “How’s Sarah?”
“No change.” He coughed several times, clearing his throat.
Ivy wondered if he’d been crying. These days, when she called, she never knew what she might be interrupting. “What do the doctors say?”
“Well, she’s in no immediate danger. But —” His voice broke.
Ivy waited, her heart aching for him.
“It won’t be long.”
She could feel herself begin to tear. “If I could do anything to change this for you —”
“I know. No one can.”
She could hear him blowing his nose. “How are you?”
“Oh, about the same. The nights get pretty long.”
“Are you taking some time away from the office?”
“I went in this morning, but I can’t concentrate.”
“I understand.”
“It’s just — sometimes I need something to take my mind off what’s happening at home. You know.” He sniffed.
“Then I think I might have just the ticket. I was hoping you’d be able to give me a ride over to WMST tomorrow morning. Hale and I are scheduled on Bram Baldric’s radio show.”
“Won’t you be going with Hale?”
“Not if I can help it. And the brakes on my car have been acting funny. I took it into the shop this afternoon.” She switched on the TV with the remote. Jay Leno was doing his monologue.
“Okay. I’ve got the picture. What time?”
“The program begins at nine. We should be there about ten minutes before it starts.”
“Fine. I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty and we can catch a bite of breakfast first. What do you say?”
“You’re a lifesaver.” Even though she couldn’t see his smile, she could feel it. At least she’d given him that much. “See you in the morning.”
“Are you sure you’re feeling all right?” asked Louie, holding the door to the radio station open for Ivy as she passed in front of him. “I’d hoped some ham and eggs might give you a little more energy.”
“I told you. I had a restless night.” She led the way to the elevator. The studio was on the third floor.
“Is it your back again?”
She nodded. “I took several painkillers about one
A.M.
, and then again at six. I think they’re starting to wear off.”
The elevator doors opened and they stepped on.
“Do you feel well enough to do this program? I’m sure Bram would understand if you backed out.” All during breakfast, Ivy had seemed unusually preoccupied. Louie wasn’t convinced it was simply a bad back.
“You know how I feel about commitments. I’ll get through it.” As soon as the doors reopened, she crossed to the reception desk.
Louie folded his thin frame into one of the chairs provided for visitors. The radio show just prior to Bram’s was being broadcast over two speakers positioned at either end of the room. A man and a woman were discussing the British royal family. Louie stifled a yawn. Chuck and Di always did that to him.
“Ivy! Glad you could make it.” Bram emerged from one of the far doors, a welcoming smile on his face. “Hale and Kate are already here. Hang up your coat and come with me.”
Ivy handed her things to Louie. “You remember Louie Sigerson.”
He thrust out his hand. “Of course. Good to see you again. Come on back with us and you can watch through the glass.”
“Fine,” said Louie, taking Ivy by the arm. She was really beginning to worry him. She seemed terribly unsteady. Even Bram seemed to notice.
“I promise you,” said Bram, striding quickly toward the end of the hall, “this will be completely painless.”
Ivy gave him a faint smile. Before she disappeared behind the heavy door, she whispered to Louie, “Be a dear and call Max. I’m really not feeling well.”
“Perhaps I should take you to a hospital,” he said, trying not to sound upset. He didn’t want to frighten her.
“No, just make the call.” Her voice was firm, but Louie could hear the uncertainty.
“Of course. Don’t worry. I’ll go find a phone right away.”
She gave him a peck on the cheek.
He watched for a moment as Bram handed her a pair of earphones. Kate and Hale were already seated behind a round table. As soon as the on air light came on, Louie dashed back to the reception desk and asked where he might find a public phone. The woman pointed to one near the elevators.
He knew it was best not to question Ivy any more than necessary. She was terribly high-strung. Pushing her to do something she didn’t want to do would only make her more anxious. Still, he was worried. Whatever it was that was bothering her, it hadn’t just started this morning. Something had been brewing for months. Hale was no help at all. When it came to emotions, he had all the sensitivity of a mollusk. And Louie had been so preoccupied with Sarah, he hadn’t been any help, either. It was only logical that Ivy would turn to someone else. And Louie felt certain he knew who that someone was.
Opening the phone directory, he began his search for the office of Dr. Max Steinhardt.
Louie waited in the main reception area, listening to the radio broadcast while watching the elevator doors. Max said he would be right over. In the meantime, Hale was being his usual tedious self, waxing on and on about various galleries around the country. God! It was beyond him how Ivy could put up with a man like that all these years. Hale presented himself with complete confidence, but Louie knew better. He’d never met a human being before with so many malicious insecurities.
Kate Chappeldine spoke about her new gallery, and about how she’d grown up in New York City. Her father, Ross Chappeldine, played second violin for the New York Philharmonic. She explained that she’d picked Minneapolis as the place to start her gallery because of its national reputation for being a leader in the arts.
So far, Ivy had said very little.
Just as Bram started to elaborate on the local art scene, Max emerged from a side door. He’d obviously taken the stairs.
Louie raised a weary eyebrow and stood. How utterly predictable the man was. He probably had barbells in his pockets. “Over here,” he called, motioning for him to follow.
“Where’s Ivy?”
“In the studio. She’s on the air right now.”
Together they rushed down the hall.
“You said on the phone that she’d taken some painkillers for back pain.” Max removed his gloves and stuffed them into the pocket of his coat. He was carrying a medical bag. “Do you know what she took — specifically?”
Louie shook his head. “No clue.”
They came to a full stop in front of the glass. Ivy noticed them immediately and gave a small wave. She took out a pen and notepad and began writing. When she was finished, she handed it to one of the technicians, who pushed it under the door.
Max picked it up and read out loud:
Thanks for coming. My back is still hurting me. Could I have two more of the pain pills? They’re in the gold pillbox in my purse. When I’m done in here, Max, could you check me over? I feel kind of funny.
“Where’s her purse?” He looked around.
“It’s right here under her coat.” Louie handed it to him.
He opened the clasp and began rummaging through the contents. “Okay. Here’s the box. Now.” He stopped cold when he saw the pills.
Louie could see a look of intense distress pass across his face.
“These aren’t pain pills,” he said, watching Ivy for a moment through the glass. Her head was resting between both hands, her eyes closed. Bram appeared to be watching her, too.
“What’s wrong?” pleaded Louie.
“Those pills — they’re Lasix!”
Louie didn’t understand. “So?”
“They’re a diuretic, man. She’s a diabetic! How many did she take?”
Louie had to think back to their conversation. “Four. Though I could be wrong. She said she took two in the middle of the night, and then two again this morning.”
The on air light went off as the national news came on. Bram rose instantly and moved to Ivy’s side, motioning for Louie and Max to come into the room.
“We’ve got to get her to a hospital,” said Max as he entered and knelt down next to her. He started to take her pulse. “Someone call 911 and tell them it’s an emergency. And get me a glass of water.”
Bram quickly left the room, returning a few moments later carrying a pitcher and several mugs. “The receptionist is making the call.”
Max nodded, reaching into his medical bag and taking out a syringe and a vial of clear-looking liquid.
“What’s that?” asked Hale, who had remained silent during all of this. He moved closer to Ivy.
“It’s potassium.” Max worked quickly, pushing up her sleeve. “Give her some air,” he barked, glaring at Hale.
Hale stiffened. “She’s my wife, goddamn it! I demand some answers.”
“I feel so light-headed,” said Ivy, holding her stomach. “And a little nauseous.”
“Bend your head down between your legs.” Max helped her into the correct position.
Louie, who had stayed near the door the entire time, continued to watch with a sinking sense of deja vu. For eleven years, his wife had been worked over by doctors. Nothing had helped. She was dying, and there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it. And now, here was Ivy, sick in a way he didn’t understand. It took every ounce of willpower he had to stay in the same room with her. He felt ashamed of himself for such a cowardly reaction, but there it was. Even though he loathed the timid, useless man he’d become, he couldn’t help himself. He was revolted by illness. He wanted to turn his back on all the pain and just run — as far and as fast as his feet would take him. “Is she going to be all right?” he asked, his voice barely audible.
Max looked up, glancing from face to face. “She’s going to be fine. Absolutely fine.”
“Back on the air in two minutes,” said one of the technicians.
“Where are those paramedics?” demanded Hale.
“There’s a fire station less than half a block away,” answered Bram, his eyes rising to the clock. “They should be here any second.”
Max grabbed the pillbox and shook the pills out into his hand. “Damn,” he growled, looking up at Hale. “I can’t believe this.”
“Here they are,” called the technician.
Two burly men rushed into the room carrying a portable stretcher between them.
Max took over. “I’m Dr. Steinhardt.” He stood back as they made Ivy comfortable. “I want her taken to Northwestern. I’ll ride with you in the van.”
Hale stood next to her as they covered her with blankets. “I better come, too.”
“No room,” said Max. He held Ivy’s hand as they wheeled her out.
Ivy was awakened from a fitful sleep by the sound of footsteps. By the time she was able to focus on the source, they’d stopped. But they’d come close to her. She knew that much. The hospital room in which she’d spent most of the day was now dark, yet she could sense a presence. Someone was on the other side of the curtain. For a split second, she had the urge to cry out. Instead, she asked — very softly: “Who’s there?”
The curtain fluttered. The face of Kate Chappeldine appeared above her bed.
Ivy grasped for the cord and turned on the light.
“Is this a bad time?” The young woman was holding a small bouquet of daisies.
At the sight of the flowers, Ivy heaved a sigh of relief. She felt silly for her reaction. What could she possibly have to fear from Kate? “No, I’m delighted to see you. I was going a little stir-crazy.” She adjusted the bed to a sitting position.