Never Come Back

Chapter Twenty-one

I almost left as well. I only wished I had left before talking to Paul.

When I returned to Ronnie’s floor, I saw someone talking to the nurse who had sent me to the cafeteria. As I came down the hall, the nurse made a nodding gesture toward me, as though the man wanted to see me. I assumed he was Ronnie’s doctor.

“Ms. Hampton?” he said.

“Elizabeth,” I said.

We shook hands. He was a white-haired man in his early sixties. He wore a tie and a sharply pressed shirt and told me his name was Dr. Heil. He placed his shiny gold pen in his shirt pocket.

“Is Ronnie okay?” I asked.

“He’s doing fine,” he said. “Better than yesterday, as I understand.”

“Is there anything I should know?” I asked.

“Well,” he said. He pointed to a door that opened off the hallway. It looked like any other patient room, but once we were inside, I saw that it was a consultation room, a place families gathered with doctors to hear bad news about their loved ones. Dr. Heil closed the door and we sat in the upholstered chairs.

“There really isn’t much for me to say right now. My role is to examine your brother and make a report available to the police. I’m going to write that up in the next day or two.”

“A report about what?” I asked. “If Ronnie is a killer?”

“That’s not my job,” he said. “I’m not a police officer. No, I’m just here to offer my medical opinion on your brother. And I pass that on to the police. How they decide to act is up to them.”

“Is there anything you can tell me?” I asked. “He’s been in here a few days already. I don’t know what’s been happening.”

He smiled at me, a comforting grandfatherly smile. He wanted to put me at ease without saying anything he wasn’t allowed to say. “As I’m sure you know, your brother is quite high functioning for someone with Down syndrome. It’s obvious that someone has taken a great deal of care with him over the years. I’m guessing that’s your mother?”

“Yes.”

“That’s what Ronnie said as well. He’s smart, and a good communicator. And understandably, he’s a bit overwhelmed by all of this.” He leaned forward. “He needs you to be his sister right now. He needs someone just to talk to him and treat him normally. I think you’d be good for that. He thinks very highly of you.”

“Does he?” I asked.

I assumed Ronnie didn’t think much of me at all, mainly because I knew I had my own wall up with him. I’d let him be Mom’s concern over the years and kept my distance, even going so far as to withdraw and stay far away whenever Ronnie had an issue of any kind. I figured he’d picked up on that—he was too smart not to—and took the same approach with me.

“He spoke glowingly of you today,” Dr. Heil said. “I think he recognizes what has happened to your family and the position that puts the two of you in.” Then he made the simplest statement of all, and perhaps the one I most needed to hear. And maybe I heard it better because it came from someone outside the family, an independent authority figure. “You’re his closest relative.”

I nodded, letting his wisdom sink in.

“I understand what you’re saying,” I said.

“Good,” he said. “You never know how bumpy the road ahead is going to get.”

When Dr. Heil was gone, I went in and sat with Ronnie. He was asleep, either as the result of the medication or just because being examined by a head shrinker was enough to wear anyone out. And Ronnie’s reserves must have been pretty low at that point.

Even though he didn’t know I was there, I felt an obligation to stay a while. But “obligation” wasn’t the right word. I wanted to stay. I wanted to know he was safe, that no one else was going to come in and bother him or interrogate him. Not as long as I had anything to say about it.

I graded papers while Ronnie slept. The time passed quickly. My phone rang not long after I started grading. It was my landlord informing me that I had a new door and a dead bolt.

“You should be fine,” he told me. He agreed to come by the hospital and bring me the new key, which he did, meeting me at the front door.

Was it just that easy? Bolt the door and sleep tight? My mother’s house had more locks than Buckingham Palace and look what they had done for her. Sure, I wanted to be there for Ronnie. But I was avoiding something as well. I wasn’t looking forward to going home and sleeping in that apartment. I couldn’t imagine closing my eyes and not dreaming of someone breaking in again. I wanted to protect Ronnie, but who was going to protect me?

I kept on grading. They brought a tray of food for Ronnie. Some processed meat smothered in gravy, mashed potatoes, sliced pears, and a chocolate milk. Ronnie woke up, probably because he smelled the food. He wasn’t a picky eater. I knew he’d love the meat and potatoes, even though the thought of it made my stomach turn a little. And I hadn’t eaten much all day.

Ronnie looked surprised to see me. He looked groggy, his eyes heavy lidded and bloodshot. His hair stood up in a swirl as if someone had given it a going-over with an electric mixer. I decided to comb it down for him, but I let him eat first.

We didn’t say much to each other initially. As Ronnie ate, he reached for the remote control and turned on the TV. A news show played, a recap of all the disasters in the world. Ronnie watched it while he plowed through the meat and potatoes. He could be like that sometimes—intently focused on the task in front of him, a little removed from the people around him. I don’t think it had anything to do with the Down syndrome. I could be the exact same way.

At the first commercial, he turned to me. “You look tired, sis.”

“I am.”

“You need to sleep,” he said.

“I will. I’m trying to get caught up on paper grading.”

“Work, work, work,” he said, smiling a little. It was good to see that. “Is Paul coming back?” he asked.

“I think he went home for the night,” I said. “He was here while the doctor was with you.”

“I know. I saw him.”

“Did you like talking to the doctor today?” I asked. “Dr. Heil?”

“He was nice.”

“What did you two talk about?” I asked.

Ronnie shrugged. The news came back on, a story about wildlife in Africa. Ronnie’s eyes were glued to the screen.

“What did he ask you about?”

“A bunch of questions.”

“Were they about Mom?”

Ronnie didn’t answer. He watched the TV. I thought about reaching for the remote and turning it off. If we were teenagers, I would have done that very thing. But I didn’t want to get him angry or upset. He’d had a hellish day as well. But still, I wanted to know what they’d talked about. I felt I had a right. And I remembered what Dr. Heil had said to me just a little bit earlier. It could be a bumpy ride ahead.

Did Ronnie know that?

“And that’s it?” I asked. “Nothing else?”

Agitation crept into his voice. “He was nice, sis. I liked him. It’s fine.”

He turned his attention back to the TV and drank his milk.

I wished I could believe him.