No. I mean he had a suicide attempt. When he was drinking. I found him.
Oh Simone. Honey. You never said.
Maybe I should have mentioned it.
Yes, you should.
Can I tell you now?
Please.
It was when we lived in the Berkshires. He was on a serious bender, the one after he set the garage on fire. I asked him to leave. I told him he had a choice: I could drive him to the nearest motel or I’d call the cops. He chose the motel. I drove him there. William, the hardest thing I ever did was leave him there in the middle of the night. I drove away watching him in my wing mirror, walking into that motel room with his porkpie hat on, and I had no idea if I’d ever see him again.
Oh, Simone. I’m so sorry.
Thank you. I had a bad feeling. And I was right. The motel owner called me around 4 AM. She’d smelled smoke coming from Hank’s room. He’d cut his wrists. And taken pills with vodka. His cigar had rolled onto the rug. Good thing he smoked, right?
What a terrible ordeal.
The motel owner was so pissed. She kept saying,You’ll have to pay for that carpet, you know. Meanwhile I took Hank to the ER and they got him patched up. He wouldn’t let me come in because he didn’t want me to see the cuts. After that he went to the psych ward. Inpatient. And that saved his life. They got him the right meds. But it was the hardest thing I’ve ever lived through.
What you did was an incredible act of courage and kindness, Simone.
Not at all. I loved him. And he was a human being who needed my help.I’m sure you’d do the same.
I would have, if I’d gotten the chance.
OMG. Right. Becky. I’m sorry, that was clumsy of me. Of course you know how I feel. How did she, if you don’t mind my asking...
Pills. Like Cyndi. But without the wrists.
Oh God. And you found her?
I did. In our apartment.
I’m so sorry, William.
Thank you.
And maybe this isn’t the right time to bring this up. But I want you to know I meant you and Becky no disrespect with my novel idea.
...
William? Are you there?
Here. Thinking.
Okay. Well, I needed you to know that.
I heard you, Simone. I heard you the first time. You tendered an apology and I thanked you. It was not good enough. You didn’t say you’d give up the book. You were considering going ahead with the thievery of my story. I had to protect myself.
By getting involved with Cyndi?
...
Hello?
I was typing, Simone. Would you like to know what I was typing? I was asking you what you were doing there. At the Hawthorne. How did you know Cyndi?
