Progenitor Read online

  “Point taken,” Annaliese studied her computer again. “Why tell me you were seeing a therapist if you aren’t?”

  “I didn’t lie about the therapist. I did talk to her one time, but I never went back. I came up here to talk to you instead.”

  Annaliese stared at her. “Does your husband know you’re up here?”

  Sidney shook her head. “I told Nate I was visiting my parents in Virginia. He and my mother-in-law are so beside themselves with grief, that I think they’re relieved to have me out of the way.” She snorted. “They’re moody. Everything sets him off, and his mother is in and out of it all the time. I can’t take it anymore, especially with my own mind playing tricks on me. If I’m not crazy now, I will be soon.”

  “That’s understandable. The mood swings are normal when dealing with terminal illness and death, but I can see how that would be frustrating for you when you have your own problems to deal with and need support from people consumed with their own problems. Everybody needs a measure of grace right now.”

  “You sound like my mother-in-law.”

  Annaliese raised an eyebrow. “Is that bad?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Sidney paused, swallowing past a lump in her throat. Was it worth it to go there? The doctor didn’t ask, so maybe --“

  “Why is it bad?”

  Darn, she did ask. She thought about how to phrase it right.

  “Sidney? Why is it bad?”

  Sidney sighed. “All I’ve heard the past few months is ‘it’s not your father, so you don’t understand.’”

  “Both of your parents are still alive?”

  Sidney nodded.

  Annaliese tapped at her computer and then rested it in her lap. “You want to help, but they’ve already decided that there’s no reason to listen to you.”

  “It’s not just that. I know it’s not my father. I never presumed to relate to the situation on a tit-for-tat level. I wanted to stand by my husband and offer whatever support I could on dealing with the day-to=day aspects of moving on with life. It goes on, you know, and I thought I could help to keep him grounded while he deals with his grief. When you’re on the periphery like I’ve been, you see things. Or rather, you understand things better than the ones closest to the situation.”

  “That makes sense,” Annaliese said. “You have a different perspective. That’s not bad. It’s a perspective that is helpful and needed. Nate and your mother-in-law might not realize it now, but they’ll come to appreciate it in time.”

  Sidney shook her head. “I’ll be bold enough to say you’re wrong. Nobody wants to hear it out of you when you’re just in in-law. You’re supposed to be a silent witness with no opinions, thoughts, or feelings of your own.” She turned away. “That’s what a friend at church said when she went through this last year with her own father-in-law. It’s been a year, and nobody has asked what she thinks yet. They pretty much ignore her.”

  Annaliese was silent. Sidney stared at her for a moment before going on.

  “But you’re right. The periphery is a unique place to be. Things look different from here, and they don’t realize how much. So they go on in denial or grief while you see and understand. They’re surprised when you saw it coming a mile away. You see truth, but nobody’s listening. It’s like being an alien in your own world.”

  Annaliese stared at Sidney, transfixed. Sidney coughed loudly and pointed at the computer in Annaliese’s lap. “You might want to put that in your notes in case Kalea says the same thing to you in a week or so.”

  Annaliese jumped. “Yes, right,” she said, tapping at her computer. “You feel like nobody’s listening. I got it.”

  Sidney tipped her head and stared at Annaliese. “Did I say something disturbing?”

  “Not at all,” Annaliese put the computer back in her lap and forced a smile. “There are no right or wrong answers. We’re here to talk about how you feel.”

  “I thought we were here to talk about how I stopped a woman from stabbing your husband and brother.”

  “That was the catalyst for my visit.” She glanced at her computer. “Olivia did get back in contact with me about the one visit you had. You said last time that you’re having nightmares. Olivia’s notes mention lapses in memory, and that you seem to be experiencing what you called ‘lost time,’ instances where you black out for short periods of time and can’t recall what happened or how you got where you are. Is that still happening?”

  “It’s increasing.”

  “The nurse told me that you don’t remember going in Kieran’s office or saving him and Avery from that woman who tried to stab them. Did you know that they were there before the blackout?”

  Sidney thought. “I knew who your husband and brother were. I felt a strong need to come back up here now to complete a task, but I didn’t know what it was. I’m not sure why I felt that way. All I know is that I felt like I needed to get back up here and time was of the essence. I can’t explain it. I didn’t know your brother was in town if that’s what you’re asking, or that the woman I hurt was trying to hurt him. This was unplanned. In fact, there are entire portions of the drive that I don’t recall.” Sidney looked at Annaliese. “Is she all right?”

  “Who?” Annaliese asked, clearly confused.

  Sidney stared at Annaliese. What was wrong with her? She seemed distracted. Of course, her father is dying, whether she realizes it or not. And then somebody tried to kill her brother. Who do these doctors talk to about their own problems? She shook off the unbidden musings. “The woman that attacked your brother. Is she all right?”

  Annaliese tapped at her computer in her lap. “Her name is Yvonne, and she’s in a coma. She has radiation burns.”

  “Just like that guy that your cousin stopped,” Sidney said bluntly.

  “Yes,” Annaliese said. She saw no reason to deny it, especially since it had been on the news. “Only his were electrical burns, not radiation.”

  “The news said it looked like he had the equivalent of three lightning strikes. It’s amazing he’s alive.” Sidney paused. “I guess it’s amazing that Yvonne is alive. If they die, are your cousin and I going to jail for killing them?”

  Another pause. “Sidney, I don’t know what’s going to happen. Nobody knows how either of you did what you did, so it’s not clear what or if there’s any blame, especially given that both of them have mental disorders and threatened others. You and Kalea saved lives. That’s an undeniable truth.”

  Sidney nodded slowly. “They were sick. I could see it in Yvonne. I could see that she had medicine in her, but something was keeping it from working right. And didn’t that guy your cousin stop have schizophrenia?”

  Annaliese returned the nod. That had been revealed on the news too, as well as his wife’s affair. “What was stopping the medicine from working?”

  “I don’t know,” Sidney looked away.

  “You don’t know, or you don’t know how to say it?”

  Sidney sighed. “I don’t understand what it was. I can’t explain it, and I don’t know what you would need to see it the way I do.”

  “Sidney, I want to show you something, but I can’t unless you appoint me as your psychiatrist. Will you do that?”

  “What difference does it make? I talked to you once before, and I’m talking to you now. Isn’t that enough?”

  Annaliese pursed her lips. “Usually, it would be, but after what happened here, we need to observe the formalities. There’s a social worker coming in any minute now, and she’s authorized to take over your case unless you’ve already designated somebody else as your doctor. Do you want to talk to the social worker about this?”

  Sidney clenched up. “Absolutely not. I came to you, and I believe you’re the best person to help me. To help everybody.” Sidney tipped her head again, staring at Annaliese sitting in a ray of sunlight that had shifted through the window, where the light swirled around her in a halo. “You see things clearly. You have a keene
r mind. Yes, you will do. You’re the perfect human liaison.”

  Annaliese furrowed her brows. “Excuse me?”

  Sidney shook her head to clear the rogue thought. “I’m sorry, I ramble like that too. You better add that to your notes if you want to be my shrink.”

  “So I’m hired?” Annaliese turned her computer toward Sidney to tap her official consent form.

  Sidney tapped the form. “You’re hired.” She leaned back on her bed. “What is it that you wanted to show me?”

  Yes, of course.” Annaliese tapped her computer. “You said you could see something in Yvonne that was stopping her medication from working.” She turned the computer to Sidney to show her a fragment of the brain waves circling the Earth satellite system. “Does it look like that?”

  Sidney’s face paled and she gulped, her eyes widening as she studied the picture. “Yes. That’s the cause of it.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s the cause of it all.”

  Chapter 21

  Kalea sighed contentedly as she stared at the beautiful fall day outside the terminal at Charlotte-Douglas Airport for her flight to Knoxville on a cool Friday afternoon. She felt bad about leaving Aunt Tabitha, especially since she got the confirmation that Uncle Carson was back in stage six of his Alzheimer’s, but Annaliese called to tell her that Avery finally got clearance to come home for a couple of weeks and encouraged Kalea to take some time off. It was good timing because she was scheduled to check on a lighting job at the airport today. She would usually drive to Gatlinburg, but the airport offered her free airfare for helping them to proceed with repair work, and her parents were so glad she was coming for a visit that they didn’t mind the hour drive into Knoxville to pick her up.

  It was a strange turn of events, but Kalea was long overdue for a break. She had been working fifty and sixty hour weeks these past six weeks. Between Annaliese and her appointed therapist at Creekside, she realized that it wasn’t so much about catching up from Uncle Carson’s illness last summer, but because she found comfort in her work. Uncle Carson’s illness, then recovery, then relapse, had been so odd and unpredictable that she had turned to the one thing she could trust to stay the same no matter what: her work. Electrical systems didn’t get sick or die, or come back to life. They didn’t try to shoot up schools, interview you, or analyze you. They were what they were and didn’t change, and she needed that stability to get through the unpredictability of the past few months. “But you need breaks from anything you do regularly, even things you love,” Annaliese said the previous day when she called, “and who knows when the timing will be better?”

  Kalea knew Annaliese was right. Her workload had lightened considerably since school started, and Avery would probably appreciate some time with his parents without her and Annaliese hanging over them. Plus, she didn’t know if she could handle a repeat of Uncle Carson’s condition. If he bolted out of that bed and grabbed her again --no, she couldn’t stand that thought. But if he died, was that any better?

  She didn’t know, but it wasn’t an issue she needed to worry about today. Her office was covered. Avery was with Aunt Tabitha and Uncle Carson, and Annaliese promised to stay in contact with them. She hasn’t been to the cabin or taken any time off since the fourth of July because of the endless tasks of juggling work and helping with Uncle Carson. The radiation on her leg was going down, she had a clean bill of health, and her psychiatrist said she was mentally one of the healthiest people she’d ever seen. There was no reason not to take a break.

  Plus, it felt like something was coming. What, she couldn’t say, but definitely something big that none of them had seen before. Perhaps it was anxiety over Uncle Carson’s condition, or perhaps it was anxiety over her own mental state. She might be healthy, but she didn’t always feel right. The three instances of lost memories she’d had were too many to suit her, and her dreams had been so strange that words couldn’t describe them. She wasn’t sure what she was seeing, and when she tried to recall them, all she could bring to mind were waves of light patterns. They were disturbing, but at least she slept all the way through the night and woke up better rested. In fact, with the exception of Aunt Tabitha’s call in the middle of the night last week, she had slept better these past six weeks than she had in a long time.

  Rested, but anxious. Things are fine, she told herself over and over. What will be, will be, and we’ll move on like we always do. And yet, the prick of that lie was poking her, not enough to draw blood, but enough to make her notice that she was on the event horizon of something that would suck up everything she knew.

  Kalea took deep breaths, trying to calm herself from her ruminations. There was no point in this. Things were fine, and her anxiety was nothing more than residual nerves from recent experience. There was nothing to indicate that the future would bear any resemblance to the past, or why it couldn’t be better. These were stressful times, nothing more, but they were almost over. It was all almost over. And then they would face what came next with such strength as they could muster and move on.

  She shook her head to shake the thoughts out. Stress really was playing on her hard if she couldn’t keep a logical train of thought anymore. She pulled her computer out of her carry-on bag to open an e-book and get her mind off her mind, trying to tune out a conversation the attendant was having with a tall man with dark hair and blue eyes about the flight being on schedule. It seemed that they were talking more loudly than was necessary for the light, early afternoon crowd, but the other four people sitting at the terminal didn’t seem to notice. She turned back to her computer, only to be jostled by the man as he accidentally bumped the seat she was sitting in with his bag. She dropped her computer. She tried to catch it, but the padded pink case bounced off her finger and landed harmlessly on the floor in front of him.

  “I’m sorry,” the man picked up the computer and handed it back to Kalea. “I should have watched where I was going. I don’t travel often and get so clumsy with these bags.”

  Kalea took her computer back and smiled at the man. “I’m a klutz myself. That’s why I have the padded case.” She glanced at the computer, surprised to see it downloading files. The man bent over her, putting his hand on her shoulder.

  “Partition one is for your eyes only. Partition two is for Annaliese. She won’t see it until she’s ready,” he whispered, winking at her and disappearing in the sparse crowd.

  What did he do? Kalea wondered, poking at her computer frantically. A progress bar flew across two times, followed by a message that read, “Partition two transmissions complete to Annaliese Kerner Boyce.” The screen went blank for a moment, and then reopened to her background screen of the Earth from space with a text box in the middle that read “Do you wish to access partition one files?”

  Kalea’s eyes glowed silver as she tapped “yes.” The files opened, and she smiled as the data ran across the screen, melting her anxiety. The black hole in her future disappeared, replaced by the purpose of a reality that nobody thought possible.

  Yes, she understood. She understood everything.

  Chapter 22

  “Yes sir, I understand your frustration. I know you need all the help and support you can get at this time, but your grief doesn’t negate your wife’s needs, and she needs support now, too. My suggestion that she visit her parents is intended to help both of you get what you need, so you can come together and support each other during what’s obviously a difficult time for both of you.”

  Kieran smiled as Annaliese rolled her eyes at him when he walked in the door Friday evening.

  “I’m sorry you don’t agree Mr. Sinclair, but Sidney is my patient, and it’s my obligation to guide her toward what she needs to recover. I can’t stop you from driving up to Virginia to see her, but I’d highly recommend against it. I believe that if you allow her to have some time and space this weekend, then you’ll find that she returns better able to handle her own problems independently and to support you in your grief.”

  Ah, the disgr
untled spouse, Kieran thought, walking to the kitchen and pouring two glasses of wine. He walked in the den and handed a glass to Annaliese, who smiled and mouthed thank you at him as he sat on the couch next to her.

  “Well, I’m sorry your mother is driving you crazy. I think everybody in this situation has been through a tremendous amount of anxiety and stress, but I can’t advise you over the phone. If you want to discuss that in further detail, you can call my receptionist Monday morning to schedule an appointment.” She paused. “In fact, why don’t you do that? It sounds like you have a lot of issues, and I’d be glad to take you on as a client if you feel you need help and guidance through this time. I think that would help Sidney too, if I could see you together.”

  A string of shouted insults poured from the phone. Annaliese held it away from her ear, taking a long drink from her wine glass. A moment later, the shouting subsided. “So what do you have to say about that?” the voice barked over the phone.

  Annaliese returned the phone to her ear. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr. Sinclair. I can’t divulge any more information to you regarding your wife’s mental condition. I’m obligated to protect her confidential information, and she didn’t sign a release for me to give it to you. That’s an issue you’ll have to discuss with her.”

  More shouts erupted from the phone.

  “Mr. Sinclair, your grief doesn't nullify other people’s needs. You've grown so used to ignoring them that you forgot others have issues just as significant as your own. If you don't open your eyes to the bigger world, Sidney will seek solace elsewhere, as is her right. You're lucky she's turning to her family and not outsiders or worse, another man. Be there for her, or get used to her walking away. I understand you’re under a lot of strain and need ‘everybody to be normal and play their part’ as you said earlier, but Sidney is facing a serious situation of her own, and she feels that she’s facing it alone. As I said, I can’t tell you any more than that, and I encourage you to contact my receptionist for an official appointment if you wish to discuss your thoughts further. Good evening.” She hit the hang-up button, tossed the phone on a couch cushion, and leaned back, groaning.