Firefly Cove Page 19

“On our way to Los Angeles.”

  “Just a moment, please.”

  When the phone went silent again, Asha said, “Her name is Sarah . . .”

  She was halted by the transformation to Luke’s face.

  For a moment Asha feared he was going to burst into tears. The expression was so intense, she could not have named it as fear or pain or agony or . . .

  Joy.

  The woman came back on. “Can Mr. Benoit be here Monday morning?”

  “Yes,” Luke said, almost a groan. “Tell her yes.”

  “Nine o’clock,” the woman continued. “Ms. Wright says, ‘Be on time.’”

  CHAPTER 48

  When Asha was six, her father had accepted a position with the UCLA School of Medicine. Later that year they had moved from their home in Santa Monica to the top floor of a new condominium building in Brentwood. Asha had been very unhappy there at first. She had missed their garden and being able to walk or bike along the streets filled with other children. She had disliked the elevator with the buttons almost too high for her to reach. The building’s dark-jacketed security had made her feel very uncomfortable. Their new home’s broad expanse of pale coral carpet had seemed to invite little hands to spill things. In a child’s mind Brentwood was an odd sort of place, filled with big buildings and broad streets and people in suits. But as Asha had grown into her teenage years, she had found herself enjoying the proximity of the Montana Avenue shops and cafés. And now she could see how the home was ideal for her parents.

  They were seated on the broad balcony watching the sunset when Dino called for the fourth time since her arrival. “Asha, I can’t tell you how sorry—”

  “It’s fine,” she replied. And, actually, it was. “They understand. Really. Don’t worry.”

  He sighed. “I’m done. May I come in my suit?”

  “Of course.”

  “It’s just, if I go back to the hotel, it’ll mean another forty-five minutes at least.”

  “No, just come. And don’t rush.”

  Asha cut the connection and said, “Dino apologizes for being late. Again. The conference switched the time of his lecture, and there was nothing he could do about it.”

  “It happens,” her father said.

  Asha liked having this chance to talk with her parents alone. Her father had been late as well, kept at the hospital by an unscheduled surgery. He had come in, kissed his wife, and headed straight into the shower. This had been his habit for as long as Asha could remember.

  Now he sat in between his wife and daughter, dressed in an open-neck shirt and cotton slacks and boat shoes with no socks. As relaxed as a man on holiday.

  Asha asked, “How do you do it? You’ve just shown up from an emergency, and here you are, not a care in the world.”

  There was something in his gaze that made her wonder if perhaps he had anticipated such a question. “You have to learn to turn it off. Find some way to step out of one world and into another. Either that or you make a mess of both.”

  “If it was only that easy,” Asha replied.

  “I didn’t say it was easy. Only that it was necessary.” He waited a moment, then asked, “Do you want to tell us what is the matter?”

  “I honestly don’t know what I want.”

  Her mother asked, “Did you and Dino have a fight?”

  “No, Mom. It isn’t Dino. Well, I suppose in a way . . .”

  Her father asked, “Is it the patient your grandmother mentioned?”

  Asha could almost see the gears working inside her mother’s head. It was a thoroughly unprofessional way to describe the mental process, but true nonetheless. Glenda Meisel was every inch the lady, polished and immaculate and in control. The fact that she and Sonya were so very similar, and yet so extremely different, had been a point of confusion for Asha since childhood.

  Glenda asked her husband, “How is it you’re speaking with your mother about one of Asha’s patients?”

  “Because Sonya is meeting him tomorrow,” Aiden replied. “Is that what has you so troubled?”

  “In a way. I’m sorry. I wanted this evening to be all about Dino. But I just can’t seem to set this case aside.”

  “It happens,” Aiden replied. “Can you talk about it?”

  “Of course she can,” her mother said. “If Sonya knows, why shouldn’t we?”

  Which, of course, was the real reason why Glenda had any interest in Luke Benoit. It was not the patient or how he troubled her daughter. It was the fact that her mother-in-law knew something she didn’t. Under any other circumstances Asha would have found that mildly hilarious. As it was, she was simply grateful for the chance to talk it through. Again.

  Dino arrived then, and what might have been a formal time of greetings and apologies was cut short by Asha’s parents wanting to hear the rest. If Dino was troubled by her discussing Luke Benoit with yet more of her family, he gave no sign. Instead, Asha had the impression he actually approved.

  When Aiden asked about confidentiality, Dino replied, “Asha has received written consent from the patient to divulge whatever she wishes of this case. We intend to take this public, and the legal disclosure is vital.”

  Asha added, “And the patient insists that he is not, in fact, a patient at all. He remains involved in therapy only as a way to stop any further discussions about hospitalized care.”

  The only way they could understand, of course, was if Asha started from that momentous day. She had related the points often enough that she could discuss them and still have mental space to reflect on what it all meant. From this strange mix of distance and proximity, Asha felt as though the day had changed everything. It had been the start of so much, The American Journal of Psychiatry article and the relationship with Dino . . . So much began at that moment when her patient had woken up beneath the frigid white shroud.

  The case dominated the dinner conversation. There was, in fact, little room for nervousness or reserve on anyone’s part. Asha’s case study captured them all. Between courses Dino shed his tie and jacket. Asha’s mother draped it over the back of the sofa, something she would normally never have allowed. But she was too involved in the telling to leave the room.

  It was only when she reached the drive down to LA that Asha realized she had somehow talked her way through the entire dinner. She looked at her empty plate and tried to recall actually taking a bite of anything.

  Dino, however, rose to the occasion. “This has been a lovely meal.”

  “Thank you.” But, for once, Glenda’s attention was elsewhere. “Let me start the coffee. Don’t say another word until I get back.” When she returned, it was to say, “I can’t imagine anything much worse than nearly dying and coming back to find myself in the morgue under a sheet.”

  Her father nodded. “No doubt it was a tremendous shock on every level.”

  Glenda asked, “How does anyone recover from such a thing?”

  Dino replied, “In Luke Benoit’s case, you develop a second personality. One for whom the suicide attempt did not actually occur.”

  Asha said quietly, “Sonya does not believe that’s what happened.”

  Her father said, “Mother believes the young man’s story is real?”

  “Not exactly. What she said was, she has no reason to disbelieve him.” Asha turned to Dino. “Dr. Emeka agrees.”

  Her father said, “I’m sorry, who?”

  Dino replied without taking his eyes off Asha. “The chief of urgent care at Cal Poly’s hospital. An extremely capable doctor.”

  “Who actually believes your patient died . . . and somehow comes back to life as a man who died five decades ago?” Her father looked from one to the other. “Is that what you are telling me?”

  Asha told Dino, “I recorded the drive down today.”

  He nodded approval. “And?”

  “There is something I want you to see.”

  “Will you tell me what it is?”

  “If you insist,” Asha replied. “But I’d rather h
ave you observe this without my opinions clouding your judgment.”

  Dino actually smiled. “You have reached a conclusion?” “No. It’s not that. But I am beginning to detect a trend. A series of events that when they’re taken alone don’t mean much. But when grouped together, they reveal something very, well . . .”

  Dino liked that a lot. “Show me.”

  Glenda said, “Can we watch, too?”

  CHAPTER 49

  For the evening’s entertainment, on the night Asha introduced her parents to the man she truly loved, they watched the video of a patient talking into a camera perched on the dash of a vintage Jaguar.

  It was only later, when she lay in her bed and reflected on a most astonishing evening, that she wondered how she had come to think of this as natural. Which was exactly how it felt. Natural that Dino would shift the coffee table over to the balcony’s flower boxes and open her laptop. Natural that her father would compress four chairs into a tight semicircle facing the table and the LA night. Natural that they would make mugs of coffee in the kitchen, carry them back outdoors, and stand at the railing for a time while Dino described the medical convention where he had spoken earlier that day. Her father knew of the conference, of course. Interestingly enough, the two men did not sweep off into a discussion filled with medical jargon. Instead, they touched on a few of the luminaries whom they all knew. They spoke of the hotel. They spent a few moments discussing San Luis Obispo as a place to live and work. Then they set down the mugs and together they sat down and her father said, “Let’s have a look at this young man.”

  The car’s motor sounded louder than Asha recalled. And it was rather disconcerting at first to see other automobiles rushing past Luke’s window. He held to a moderate speed, his gaze focused tightly upon the road. After a while, though, Asha ignored these distractions and allowed herself to be swept along by this retelling. She had her notebook opened in her lap, her chair positioned so that she could see the pages in the light spilling through the sliding doors behind her. She had jotted down the time positions where particular issues were raised. But she did not need to refer to them. She found herself recalling the entire conversation with vivid clarity.

  Asha played the tape in segments. She kept each long enough for the others to capture images of the topics as they arose. Then she moved on before the viewing became tedious. Asha knew she and Dino would go through the entire session together. And that was how she thought of the drive now. One elongated session. The fact that Luke Benoit insisted he was no longer a patient changed nothing.

  Asha introduced each segment by stating the topic Luke discussed. The longest segment, by far, was the one following the phone call from Sarah, Ms. Wright’s assistant. Asha played that in its entirety. She froze the image of Luke’s rapturous response to the woman’s invitation. And waited.

  Her mother was the first to speak. “Are we talking about the Jessica Wright?”

  Aiden asked his wife, “You know her?”

  “Yes, Aiden, and so do you. We met at the fund-raiser in Santa Barbara for mobile medical centers.”

  “Of course.”

  Glenda asked her daughter, “So this young man claims to be the founder of Quarterfield Motors?”

  “Incredible,” Aiden murmured. “Mother actually believes him?”

  “No, Dad. Again, that’s not what I said or what Nana meant.”

  “Explain this to me.”

  Asha loved her father very much. But she also knew he was limited in his perspective by his job. Every time he entered the surgical ward, every time he lifted the knife, he held a patient’s future in his hands. Life or death. There was no room for mistakes or subtle half measures. Asha said, “Nana hasn’t said. But I think she has set the entire issue aside. She sees a lonely young man who is in need . . .”

  “Of what?” Aiden demanded.

  “A friend. One who does not judge.”

  He frowned at the screen and did not respond.

  Dino was seated between her parents. Asha leaned forward slightly so as to study him more clearly. She was very gratified to see him frowning intently at the frozen image. She said, “You see it, don’t you?”

  Glenda asked, “See what?”

  “In our profession, there is a lot more argument than agreement when it comes to split personalities. Even what to call them. But there are a couple of issues that everyone agrees on. The first is, the shifts in character are temporary. Something happens, some emotional upheaval, and the patient switches.” Asha pointed to the screen. “We are looking at a huge emotional jolt. But what do we observe? A singularly intense response. Since the hospital we have witnessed no reversion to the original Luke Benoit.”

  Dino’s entire face tightened. She knew he was locked in a silent argument with her. And she did not mind. She was not looking to convince him. She was simply laying out the evidence. “This has troubled me ever since our first session following his release. Luke told me he had experienced a very deep wave of depression. He described it as a vicious assault. And yet he did not shift back to the original personality. He simply described the incident, and asked for medicine that he might take the next time it happened.”

  Dino said reluctantly, “He then changed his diet.”

  “Luke Benoit has been addicted to fast food for years,” Asha confirmed. “Overnight he replaced this with a vegetarian regime. Which he has maintained ever since. Again, we are talking about a consistency that defies what we know about DID.”

  Glenda looked from one face to the other. “What does this mean?”

  * * *

  There followed an altogether strange sort of ending to their dinner.

  There was none of the formality that Asha might have expected for the first time her parents met Dino. She had not brought very many men home, only three as a matter of fact, including the pimply-faced young man who had taken Asha to her high-school senior prom. And, of course, the last had been Jeffrey. Asha had known her father did not think much of him. But Jeffrey had charmed her mother, as he did almost every woman who came within reach. Aiden had not wanted to taint that evening with disagreement, so he had kept his opinions to himself. But Asha had known what her father had thought of Jeffrey.

  She could not help but compare that evening to this one.

  Everyone had pretended not to listen in as Aiden had telephoned Sonya and spoken to her about Luke Benoit. He had then returned to the living room and confirmed what Asha had told them. No, Luke was not with her that evening. No, Sonya was not hosting him in any way. Luke was there to accompany Sonya to church, nothing more. Dino and her father had then insisted upon Asha and her mother letting them clear up. The two men were talking quietly now about some medical issue, working side by side in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher and wiping down the counters. Asha stood by the balcony railing, watching the men through the glass doors. And she waited.

  Her mother was seated with her back to the living room, facing her daughter by the railing. Glenda was immaculate, as always. She tended toward the bright fashionable colors of the St. John line. There was no telling what Glenda was going to say, as she sat there tapping her pearls with one hand. Asha waited in silence, reflecting that her mother certainly had any number of topics to choose from. There was Jeffrey, of course. And the way Luke Benoit had dominated their evening. And how Asha had allowed her professional life to intrude. Not to mention Dino, and his age, and his role as her supervisor and boss.

  Asha tried to keep her nerves from showing. She was determined to wait out her mother. Nor did she want her tension or defensiveness to emerge. She hoped the evening would end on as nice a note as possible.

  But when Glenda did speak, it was to observe, “Dino does not agree with your assessment of that poor young man.”

  “I suppose I knew he wouldn’t,” Asha replied. “But I needed him to see the evidence.”

  “Of course you did.” Glenda patted the chair next to hers. “Come sit down, dear. I promise I won’t bite.”


  Asha did as her mother requested.

  Glenda said, “I like him.”

  Asha took another long breath, and released another batch of tension.

  “He is very dashing, in a rumpled and weary sort of way.”

  Asha said, “Sonya says Dino reminds her of Granddad.”

  “Interesting. I can see that too, now that you mention it.” Glenda was quiet for a moment, then said, “You were five when he died.”

  “Six,” Asha corrected. “Three days after my birthday.”

  “That’s right. How could I have forgotten? You cried for days.” Glenda smiled at the night. “You two remind me of Aiden and myself.”

  Asha lifted her chair and turned herself around, so as to face her mother. Glenda continued to stare out over the city’s nighttime glow. Asha said, “Excuse me?”

  “In so many ways. I waited all night for your father to mention it.” Glenda lifted her gaze to the clouds turned golden with reflected light. “How long have you been seeing him?”

  “If you mean dating, just this week. But I suppose I’ve been infatuated with him since we first met two years ago.”

  “Tell me about that.”

  Asha described going in for the graduate interview. How they had spent most of the time discussing Dino’s latest publication, an introduction to crisis therapy that was already being adopted as a college textbook. But what Asha mostly thought about was that Glenda was not smiling at anything her daughter was saying.

  When she went silent, Glenda said, “I fell head over heels in love with your father the first time I saw him.”

  “You never told me that.”

  “I never told him.” Glenda smiled at her daughter. “I had to bide my time. Give Aiden the chance to realize we were meant to be together.”

  “How long did that take?”

  “Almost two years.”

  “Wow,” Asha breathed.

  The two men chose that moment to step onto the balcony. Aiden asked, “Are you ladies having a nice chat?”

  Asha replied, “Wonderful.”

  CHAPTER 50