vaguely, “I’m afraid I’ve lost my appetite.”
As he left the room I felt my face flush. Hadn’t I learned anything from my stint up in the tree? This was a man in pain, a man who didn’t deserve to be prodded and pushed. And yet Sidra seemed to be in genuine pain as well. Whether she was delusional or not, she deserved to be protected—from herself or someone else.
“Sidra’s in danger,” I said softly, ignoring the salad in front of me. “If things are escalating, then it’s time to bring in the police.”
“The police are the last thing we need,” Marion said, her face pale. “Goodness, Callie, I appreciate your concern, but I’m afraid this is a family matter.”
I pressed on.
“Why not call the police?” I asked. “Are you afraid of what they might discover?”
“I’m afraid they’ll take her away!” Marion exclaimed. “I’m afraid they’ll commit Sidra to some sort of institution. Better she remain here, among family, and get the help she needs. We’re handling this problem, Callie. She’s under the care of a psychiatrist. Beyond that, I’m afraid you’ll have to accept that this is family business.”
The room was silent, echoing with Marion’s outburst. I thought about Sidra, about the medicines I had seen in her bathroom. Certainly, she was being treated for something. But whether she was delusional or just depressed, I wasn’t sure.
“I’m sorry,” Marion said after a long moment. “You may think us heartless, but we’re not. I couldn’t love Sidra more if she were my own flesh and blood. But I’m afraid we’ve had to take a hard line on this. She’s always had problems. It’s just lately they seem to have manifested themselves in this way.”
“If you really think she’s crazy,” I challenged, “then why let her keep Carlos out there with her? And why let her care for your husband and his dialysis?”
“I didn’t say she was psychotic,” Marion snapped. “She just has some emotional issues.”
I let the matter drop, knowing I would reserve judgment for the time being. Marion and I ate our salads in silence, and after a few minutes we were joined by Judith, who strode purposefully into the room.
“Evening, Mother, Ms. Webber,” she said, nodding in turn toward each of us. She came to the table and took the chair Derek had just vacated and dug immediately into his salad.
“Judith!” Marion exclaimed. “Where have you been? There were people here. I needed you.”
“I know, Mom. I’m sorry. I was tied up at work.”
“How could you work with all that’s happened today?”
“Well, I figured I’d probably have to take the rest of the week off. If I’m going to do that, I had things to take care of first. I’m sorry.”
She didn’t sound at all sorry, merely irritated. I looked at her, amazed that a brother and sister could be so different. Where Derek was sweet and vague and sort of gentle, Judith was brusque and direct and almost masculine.
“You could’ve called,” Marion said, putting an end to the matter. “I was worried.”
“Sor-ry,” Judith replied sarcastically, and I couldn’t help but think she sounded for a moment more like a 12-year-old kid than a grown woman.
The three of us ate silently, tension hovering around the table like a fog. I finally spoke, my voice sounding loud in the quiet.
“I didn’t think to ask you earlier, Judith, about your position at the company?”
“I’m CEO of Smythe Incorporated. The for-profit division.”
“I thought your father ran things.”
“Daddy was the president. The big decisions, the overall vision. I implement the day-to-day. Just like Derek does for Feed the Need on the nonprofit side.”
“I see,” I said, feeling a surge of frustration over my lack of knowledge. Usually, by the time I approached a company with a donation, I knew them inside and out. But this assignment had been so hurried, so different from my usual procedure. I had only the vaguest idea of how the
As he left the room I felt my face flush. Hadn’t I learned anything from my stint up in the tree? This was a man in pain, a man who didn’t deserve to be prodded and pushed. And yet Sidra seemed to be in genuine pain as well. Whether she was delusional or not, she deserved to be protected—from herself or someone else.
“Sidra’s in danger,” I said softly, ignoring the salad in front of me. “If things are escalating, then it’s time to bring in the police.”
“The police are the last thing we need,” Marion said, her face pale. “Goodness, Callie, I appreciate your concern, but I’m afraid this is a family matter.”
I pressed on.
“Why not call the police?” I asked. “Are you afraid of what they might discover?”
“I’m afraid they’ll take her away!” Marion exclaimed. “I’m afraid they’ll commit Sidra to some sort of institution. Better she remain here, among family, and get the help she needs. We’re handling this problem, Callie. She’s under the care of a psychiatrist. Beyond that, I’m afraid you’ll have to accept that this is family business.”
The room was silent, echoing with Marion’s outburst. I thought about Sidra, about the medicines I had seen in her bathroom. Certainly, she was being treated for something. But whether she was delusional or just depressed, I wasn’t sure.
“I’m sorry,” Marion said after a long moment. “You may think us heartless, but we’re not. I couldn’t love Sidra more if she were my own flesh and blood. But I’m afraid we’ve had to take a hard line on this. She’s always had problems. It’s just lately they seem to have manifested themselves in this way.”
“If you really think she’s crazy,” I challenged, “then why let her keep Carlos out there with her? And why let her care for your husband and his dialysis?”
“I didn’t say she was psychotic,” Marion snapped. “She just has some emotional issues.”
I let the matter drop, knowing I would reserve judgment for the time being. Marion and I ate our salads in silence, and after a few minutes we were joined by Judith, who strode purposefully into the room.
“Evening, Mother, Ms. Webber,” she said, nodding in turn toward each of us. She came to the table and took the chair Derek had just vacated and dug immediately into his salad.
“Judith!” Marion exclaimed. “Where have you been? There were people here. I needed you.”
“I know, Mom. I’m sorry. I was tied up at work.”
“How could you work with all that’s happened today?”
“Well, I figured I’d probably have to take the rest of the week off. If I’m going to do that, I had things to take care of first. I’m sorry.”
She didn’t sound at all sorry, merely irritated. I looked at her, amazed that a brother and sister could be so different. Where Derek was sweet and vague and sort of gentle, Judith was brusque and direct and almost masculine.
“You could’ve called,” Marion said, putting an end to the matter. “I was worried.”
“Sor-ry,” Judith replied sarcastically, and I couldn’t help but think she sounded for a moment more like a 12-year-old kid than a grown woman.
The three of us ate silently, tension hovering around the table like a fog. I finally spoke, my voice sounding loud in the quiet.
“I didn’t think to ask you earlier, Judith, about your position at the company?”
“I’m CEO of Smythe Incorporated. The for-profit division.”
“I thought your father ran things.”
“Daddy was the president. The big decisions, the overall vision. I implement the day-to-day. Just like Derek does for Feed the Need on the nonprofit side.”
“I see,” I said, feeling a surge of frustration over my lack of knowledge. Usually, by the time I approached a company with a donation, I knew them inside and out. But this assignment had been so hurried, so different from my usual procedure. I had only the vaguest idea of how the
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