“Anyone in the offices expecting you?”
“I... I didn’t think to call first. Sorry. No.”
“What’s the name of the resident you’re asking about?”
“Rosanne Maras.”
“And your name?”
“Miss Calvert.”
He writes both names down. “I’ll call up and see if anyone in the offices is working today. Most everyone is taking a Christmas holiday.”
The man steps back into his gatehouse and picks up a black telephone receiver. I watch through the window as he speaks Rosie’s name into the mouthpiece. I see when his lips form my own name, watch as he listens. After what seems like a long stretch of seconds, he hangs up. Then he is unlocking the gate and opening it wide. He walks back to me.
“You’re in luck. Dr. Townsend is in his office for a bit today and he said he’d see you.”
“Dr. Townsend?”
“He runs the place.”
I thank him as I put the car in gear. I slowly move past the opened gates and the two massive oaks. As I steer the Studebakerup the sloping driveway, I glance in the rearview mirror just as the man swings the heavy gates closed and locks them.
I park in a small visitor lot cut into the lawn on the right side of the multistory structure. As I step out of the car, I see now that the paned windows are barred on the inside on every floor except the first. I walk up the steps to the large double doors.
Inside the lobby are a waiting area and a large reception desk with a nurse sitting behind it. A miniature artificial Christmas tree sparkles on one corner of the desk.
“If you’ll have a seat, someone will be with you shortly.” The nurse nods to one of the sofas placed in the room.
Less than five minutes later, a door to the left of the reception area opens. On the other side of it is a young man in a pressed white shirt and dark tie.
“You the one who just called in from the gate?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“If you’ll follow me.”
The man starts down a hallway with several doors on either side, some open to darkened offices, some not, and I follow. He stops at an open door at the end of the hall and then steps aside. The room is richly paneled and lined with bookshelves on three sides and framed academic degrees and awards. A man in a white doctor’s coat sits behind a large cherrywood desk. He looks to me to be about my own age, maybe a little younger. His dark hair is strewn with strands of gray.
“Open or closed?” the young man says as he lays a hand on the doorknob.
“You can leave it open. Thank you,” the doctor replies.
“Thank you for seeing me,” I say. “You are Dr. Townsend?”
“I am. And you must be Mrs. Calvert. I remember the name from Rosie’s file. A pleasure to meet you.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Mrs. Calvert is my sister-in-law. I am Miss Helen Calvert.”
“Ah. I see. Please have a seat.”
I sit down in one of two armchairs positioned in front of the large desk.
“And how is Rosie these days?” he asks casually.
“I... was hoping you might be able to tell me.”
The doctor stares at me a moment, one brow slightly raised. “Why should I be able to tell you that? Rosie was discharged from this facility years ago. Did you not know?”
