Page 452 of A Matter of Time

I turned and went to the door. What made me look back was beyond me, but I did. I shouldn’t have. I told myself I would be back to see Caleb, sit with him, bring him books or paints—whatever you took to a hospital, whatever they would allow. When my eyes flicked to his, I froze where I was.

Caleb’s eyes, which seconds before had been liquid with tears, were now narrow slits of ice. His head was tipped forward just slightly so that he was looking up at me from where he was across the room, and his jaw was clenched, his face a study of rage. The hatred was etched in every line, in the slightest quiver of his upper lip, like he was ready to snarl or bite. I had no doubt that if the medication had allowed him to rise, he would have closed the distance between us and strangled me to death right there in that room. I reached out and grabbed the doorframe.

“Jory?”

I couldn’t even turn to look at Susan. I was suddenly terrified that every time I closed my eyes for the rest of my life, I would see Caleb’s eyes at that moment. See him rising at the foot of my bed every night, remembering him saying that he had watched me sleep. He would become my own personal bogeyman if I let him.

I bolted from the room, not caring whether it was weak or not. I went to the front desk, collected my things, and walked with the orderly, even though I wanted to run and scream to be let out. I kept my emotions in check, outwardly calm and unaffected, inside just churning as the door was opened and I was released, going from the padded side of the door that kept people in to the hard metal side that kept people out. I didn’t stop until I was outside under the awning, watching the rain come down in streams. I took deep, gulping breaths of air, calming slowly, joyful with the knowledge that I could go and never return. I was free.

When I was young, there would be those nights when I was scared. Things that went bump in the night, I was sure were coming for me. My imagination was boundless, and I was able to make even the most ridiculous terrors seem plausible. On those occasions, I was certain that I wouldn’t live to see the dawn, but then into the nightmare would come some seemingly mundane noise—the cycling of the refrigerator, a barking dog, the flushing of a toilet—just something that would remind me that there was a world outside my paranoia. It was comforting, and I appreciated it, so when Sam called to remind me that I was running very late for his captain’s wife’s birthday party downtown, the note of irritation in his voice soothed me. He was annoyed, and that grounded me.

I felt even better when I got to the enormous hotel ballroom where the party was being held. There were lots of people, so I could blend easily into the crowd. I looked for anyone I knew, and when I spotted Pat at the bar, I knew Sam had to be close. I leaned in on the very end and was rewarded with a view of my man. I was not the only one looking.

There was a cluster of women looking over both him and Pat. I would have waved to Sam to get his attention, but the hand on my back took precedence.

“Hi, Jory.” Ersi Cantwell, Pat’s wife, smiled at me when I turned my head.

“Hi there.” I smiled back, leaning in to kiss her.

She gave me a peck on the cheek before sighing heavily. “My God, every time we come to one of these things, it’s the same. Do you see the vultures checking out my man?”

“Yes, ma’am, I do.” I chuckled. “They seem interested in Sam as well.”

She let out a long sigh. “Always,” she told me. “Both of them. Chaz too.”

I squinted at her.

“What?”

I gestured at the sparkling red dress that hugged her hourglass shape. “Sweetheart, in that dress, why on earth would you be worried?”

With her hair up in a ponytail, wearing sweats and doing the laundry, she was gorgeous. And now she was worried about someone snatching her man when she was all dressed up, looking like a million bucks? I didn’t understand women at all.

“Ersi, are you kidding? Did you look at yourself before you left the house?”

“You are so good for my ego.” She chuckled, and it was a good husky sound. “Oh dear God,” she groaned a moment later. “Look.”

Two women had stepped up to Pat and Sam, and that quickly, both men were being led to the dance floor. I was surprised. I’d never seen Sam dance.

Ersi and I leaned on the bar as Stephanie Diaz, Chaz’s wife, walked up beside us. She looked confused.

“What?” I asked her.

“Are those your men out there?”

Ersi grunted.

“Why aren’t you two… Ohhh,” she said, drawing out the word, eyes wide in horror. After a minute of watching Sam and Pat on the dance floor, her face scrunched up like she’d tasted a lemon. “Never mind.”

Ersi snorted. I couldn’t hold back the grin.

“Wow.” Stephanie whistled. “That is some seriously bad dancing.”

“Is Pat having a stroke?” I asked.

“Please,” she said dismissively. “Sam looks like he’s being electrocuted.”

I pointed over at Chaz, who was dancing with some other woman I didn’t know. “Who’s that with your husband?”