--1--

Daniel was awake when Amanda parked by the side of the curb.  By the car door slam, he knew he was about to face a red-haired devil.  He went into the kitchen, where he pulled out a bottle of Scotch and a small glass.  He was filling the ice cube tray when he heard her drop her keys on the table.  “I’m in the kitchen,” he called.

            Amanda walked past as if she hadn’t heard him.  Daniel finished filling the tray, grabbed the glass, and turned off the light on his way out.  He found her perched on the edge of her chair with her palms pressed against her face.  He set the glass on the table and sat down on the hassock.  “How could I be so stupid,” she muttered.

            “What are you talking about?’

            Amanda’s hands dropped into her lap.  “The patient’s chart.  The medication list and administration have been tampered with.”

            Daniel sat back stunned.  “Are you serious?”

            Amanda nodded.  “Whoever is doing it, has an impeccable hand in applying correction fluid.  I never would have caught it if I hadn’t run my finger over it.”

            “Jesus.”

            Amanda nodded.  “I had blood drawn on her tonight.  I want to know what is in her system.”

            “When will you have the results?”

            Her sharp look of authority took Daniel aback.  “No later than noon.”

--2--

There had been a killing frost during the second week of October which brought on an unexpected Indian summer.  The weather was warm and hazy, softening the earth.  Amanda and Pastor Richmond were outside her office discussing the size of the garden.  They agreed the area should be big enough to section off with enough space between rows where the patients who were well enough to tend to it could be easily monitored then picked an area and sectioned off a half-acre of land.

With the sudden change in temperature, Amanda was impatient to get started.  The five shovels donated by Pastor Richmond’s congregation were a pile of anticipation, waiting to be put to use.  He felt the weight of her demand and frowned.  “We have a little time, Amanda.”

Amanda’s cheeks flared yet her hands remained calm by her sides.  “I don’t want to waste the weather.”

“What are we going to mark the ground with?”

Amanda was struck with an unexpected sense of confusion.  She was not an organized person when it came to projects and rarely planned things out.  “Mark the ground?”

Richmond nodded.  “We need to make a box around the area so we know where to dig.”

Her jaw opened and shut.  “Oh.”

“Why don’t we go to Branson’s Hardware and get measuring tape and some spray paint?  If we hurry, we may be able to begin digging the trench before lunch.  When do you plan on burning the land?”

“I was thinking at night after the patients were settled.”

Amanda followed Pastor Richmond to a gray, 1968 Ford Courier.  He opened the door for her and then walked around to the driver’s side.  As she would with her husband, Amanda leaned over and pulled up the lock button then settled back against the worn, threadbare seat.  The blue stripes on the material were sunbleached and almost indistinguishable from the white and faded black zigzag pattern.  The dashboard was cracked and coated in a fine layer of soot.  The springs creaked as the pastor got behind the wheel and put the key in the ignition switch at the side of the ashtray.  “A friend of the church let me borrow it,” David explained.  “I didn’t know what we would need to get started so I thought a truck was the better option.”

She ran her hand over the dash.  “Is this a ’68?”

The pastor looked surprised.  “You know trucks?”

Amanda shrugged.  “Not really.  My father drove a ’68 Courier before he passed.  This looks a lot like it.”

“Including the cracked dashboard,” he smiled.

Amanda looked at the pastor sharply.  Not only did she have a hard time connecting with others, but she also did not take to jokes well, no matter how mild.  She felt as if she was being targeted.  It made her wonder if she would be able to continue working with Pastor Richmond on the project or if it would be better to assign Wilson to it.  “He didn’t have wood paneling in his.”

A cloud dampened Richmond’s features, turning his smile into a sad one.  “You have a hard time with people. Don’t you, Amanda?”

Amanda looked down at her hands.  She had made up her mind.  “I think it would be better if you worked on the garden project with Dr. Wilson and I’ll just fill in where necessary.”

“No, Amanda,” he said.  The firmness in his voice surprised her.  It reminded her of when Daniel wouldn’t back down from one of her tantrums.  “If we’ve come this far in starting, then we’re going to finish it.”

Instead of answering she looked out the window.

--3--

It was after 8:00 when Daniel entered the house and was greeted with silence.  He wondered if Amanda had gone to bed early since he saw her car was parked in the garage.  He smiled as he recalled how the minor dispute had been settled.  If she was home and he wasn’t, then she would leave the door open for him to close.  It was a simple solution that saved the couple a lot of future headaches.

He went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.  He pulled out the milk and drank from the carton.  It was a habit he had taken with him from college and one of annoyance to his wife.  As time passed, he developed an almost stealth-like strategy to avoid being caught by Amanda’s radar.  On the rare occasion when she did catch him, it made him feel sheepish, like when he was a boy and his mother would catch him snatching an oven-fresh cookie off of a piping hot cookie sheet with the sweet goodness singeing the roof of his mouth and tongue.

Daniel put the milk back in the refrigerator and closed the door.  A shadow fell over the short hallway as he turned off the kitchen light.  “Amanda?”

There was no answer as he made his way to the living room where he found her asleep in her chair with the book she had been reading resting on her breast in her slack grip.  Her fingers held faded remnants of dirt after repeated hand washings and there was an angry welt on the base of her palm. He took the book, placed the business card Amanda used for a bookmark in its crevice, and set it on the table.  “Amanda.”

She stirred and felt a painful pull in her neck from the slow rise of her head.  She winced and rubbed the sore tendons.  “Ouch.”

“Why don’t you go to bed?”

Amanda’s jaw dropped into an earsplitting yawn.  “What time is it?”

“Almost 8:30.”

“Did you just get in?”

Daniel nodded.  He explained how he and Brian went out after work and was told about how Michelle was now expecting.  Amanda bit her lip to prevent herself from rolling her eyes.  Maybe after the baby was born, they would become busy enough to stop arranging dinners together although she doubted it.  She could see Michelle becoming bored within a couple of months of mothering, and hire a nurse to do all the diaper changing and feeding.  “They’re already looking into nannies,” he said as if he were reading her mind.  He sat down on the hassock in front of Amanda and smirked.  “I just hope it’s his.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if it wasn’t,” Amanda mused.  “She is a trollop.”

Daniel didn’t comment.  “Anyway, they’re throwing a party on Friday to announce it and we’ve been invited.”

Amanda got up and stretched.  “Send them my congratulations and condolences.  If they want to set a tentative dinner date sometime later, I’ll consider it.”

Daniel sat back as if he were struck.  The tender moment they shared at the restaurant was all but forgotten.  He was not a messenger boy.  He was her husband and he’d be damned to let her treat him dismissively.  “No, Amanda,” he said getting up.  “You know where their number is.  You can call.”

Amanda froze.  It wasn’t the idea of calling them that bothered her, it was seeing how much she was hurting him.  Realization sank in as she saw how patient he was with her and how he stood by her.  Her tone was contrite.  “I’m sorry, Daniel.  I shouldn’t have said and treated you like that.”  She walked over to where he was standing and wrapped her arms around his waist.  “I’ll call after you let me know what I can do to make it up to you.”

He pretended to think about it.  “Well,” he drawled.  “Going with me would be great, but I guess I’ll settle for some good old-fashioned sex.”

Amanda released the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.  Daniel tilted her head back to meet her lips.  It had been a while since they’d been intimate with each other and he wanted to take his time.  The kiss lasted until Amanda felt her heart pounding against her ribs.  He pulled away, took her hand, and led her to their bedroom.

--4--

Daniel was going over a patient’s chart when he heard a commotion coming from the lobby.  Robert’s raised voice sent a wave of dread down his spine.  He hadn’t expected him back so soon.  He opened his office door and almost collided with Cathy.  “He’s saying he lost his medication.”

“Son of a bitch!”  Daniel took Cathy by the shoulders, moved her out of the way, and ran towards the waiting area.  Robert’s temper was frightening to behold.  Daniel felt his blood drain to his feet as his brother kicked a chair into the wall.  “Robert!”

The violent man turned to the sound of his name, “Hi, Daniel.”

Daniel’s hands clenched into fists as he fought to control his anger.  His voice was low and sharp.  “What are you doing?”

“I lost my meds.”

The blood pooling in his feet made its heated way through his veins and flared up his face.  “Sit down,” he commanded. “And so help me God, Robert, if you even open your mouth before you are fit in, I will call the police.”

Robert did as he was told and rocked back and forth in the chair.  Daniel stared at his brother until the rocking stopped and was replaced with an irritating bounce in his legs.  Daniel’s glare remained angry and focused, while Robert sulked in his usual manner which accused the world of being against him.  He never saw himself as one who threatened others, it was he who was threatened.  Everyone was out to hurt him yet in his mind it was OK for him to do whatever he wanted and take advantage of whoever he wanted to.

Daniel pivoted on his heel and stormed back to his office.  His hard soles clapped against the tiles and it took every ounce of strength to keep him from slamming the door. The click of the latch pierced the stunned silence like a bolt of lightning as he closed it softly.  He walked over to the wall and slammed his fist into it.  The surge of adrenaline dulled his senses so he did not feel anything as he gave the wall a few good hits.  The bruising would come later, but for now, he couldn’t care less.

He sat down at his desk and looked at the clock on the wall.  As much as he hated to do it, he called Amanda, hoping she hadn’t left the house.  As the phone continued to ring, he felt his stomach sink and was about to hang up when he heard a breathless, “Hello.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t leave yet.”

There was a pause on the other line.  “I was in the driveway and forgot something so I came back in.  What’s wrong?”

“Robert.”

The name hung thickly between their line of connection.  “Wasn’t he just there not so long ago?”

Daniel nodded as if she could see him.  “He said he lost his medication.  He kicked a chair into a wall.  Right now he’s quiet and waiting to be seen.”

Amanda listened intently.  Although he didn’t act out around her, she understood Daniel’s concern.  “Did he calm down?”

“I told him if he opened his mouth before he was seen, I’d call the police,” he sighed.  “I think it’s time to have him admitted.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

Daniel felt relieved as he sank back in his chair.  His fist throbbed as his anger subsided and plateaued into a state of calm.  He decided he would wait to hear what Amanda had to say before hospitalizing him and in the meantime hope he wouldn’t have to make valid his warning.

--5--

Pastor Richmond met Brian and led him back to his office.  “The mayor asked if I would stop by and see how things were going with the project you and Amanda are working on.”

“Please have a seat, Mr. Greene.”

Brian nodded in response to the pastor’s welcoming gesture and pulled out one of the highbacked chairs in front of his desk, relishing in its opulence and comfort.  He had tried to find similar replicas and failed, not knowing they were customed designed back in the early 1900s by a family who brought their skills over from Europe.

“These chairs would look great in my den,” Brian hinted.  “If you ever want to sell, let me know.”

David chuckled.  “Perhaps the next pastor will take you up on your offer.”

Brian offered Richmond an awkward smile as he waited for him to be seated behind his desk.  The pastor picked up the percolator on his desk, poured a cup of coffee, and handed it to him.  “Would you like cream and sugar?”

Brian shook his head and took a drink.  “Thank you.  Now, Mayor Bradford is asking if there is anything you need at this time.  We’re still looking into potential donators as well, which should help with supplies.”

“What about Amanda and Sanford?”

Brian looked puzzled.  “What do you mean?”

Pastor Richmond looked at his hands.  Like Amanda, he developed a blister on the heel of his palm from the shoveling they had done.  It was satisfying to see they had managed to get more finished than he had expected before the sun had set.  The patients who had been digging with them seemed to enjoy the activity, especially Samantha, who was crestfallen when they stopped.  “Did you forget the garden is on Sanford’s grounds?  She took me through the facility before I left.  I suggest you stop by one day and see it yourself.”

Brian shuddered as if he had just been asked to drink bleach.  It was bad enough to know the facility existed, let alone visit.  He could imagine Michelle’s taunting voice, while she held his arm, pointed at the patients and made rude comments.  His response was vague.  “Maybe I’ll call Amanda.”

David looked at the younger man skeptically.  “Are you not good friends with her husband?”

Brian nodded.  “We grew up together.”

“Then how can you not know what is going on at Sanford?”

The question floated and hung in the space above the desk and the two men.  He had known about Sanford losing the two donors before Amanda did, yet had been as surprised as everyone else when she was made medical director.  He shrugged, “We don’t discuss it.”

David frowned, “I don’t believe that.  You know her better than I do, so once again, how can you not know?”

Brian looked at his hands.  “It doesn’t interest me.  Every time Sanford is brought up, we change the subject.”

“I can see why Amanda doesn’t think highly of you or your wife.”

Brian shot up from his chair.  “We are established in this community.  What has she told you?”

“Nothing,” he said.  “I just sensed it about her the few times we’ve met for dinner.”

Brian fell silent.  It was a routine he used when he had to question someone before the judge.  The objective was to make the witness feel scrutinized to where he or she doubted his or her testimony.  “I see,” he said.  “Let me know if you need anything.”

Brian gave him his card and left.  Pastor Richmond breathed a slow sigh of relief.

--6--

Amanda entered Sellers Family Practice with the same brusque air she was noted for among the staff at Sanford.  She glanced around the lobby for Robert.  Not seeing him, she strode down the hall to her husband’s office, ignoring Cathy’s protest of not being authorized to go back and thrust open the door.  “Your fool receptionist says I can’t be here.”

Daniel sat up.  “Thank God you’re here.  I had Robert taken back to a room.”

“Are you going to show me where?”

“Yes.  Was it Cathy who tried to stop you?”

Amanda shrugged.  She did not care who it was.  “I need to hurry if you want me to tell you what I think.  I have to get to Sanford for a session with the patient I’ve told you about.”

Daniel got up and walked over to Amanda.  Cathy was watching down the hall when the pair came out of his office, Daniel’s hand firmly around Amanda’s upper arm as he led her towards the lobby.  She was surprised to see him stop in front of the room where his brother had been taken and stepped aside so she could enter.  After the door was closed, he rested his head against the wood.  The line in his jaw was tight with frustration.  Cathy pretended to be busy with something as a feeling of guilt washed over her from spying.  Daniel lifted his head, continued down the hall, and towards the desk.  He was angry as he approached Cathy.  “I don’t care if my wife is being chased by the entire Bersek police department.  Don’t you ever tell her she’s not allowed back!  Call me.  Understand?”

Cathy swallowed and tried not to cry.  When she spoke, her voice was small.  “Yes, Dr. Sellers.”

He pivoted on his heel and marched back towards Robert’s room.  Jane stood behind the younger woman and said,  “Just be glad he didn’t fire you, Cathy.”

Cathy nodded and almost wished he had.  “I didn’t know.”

Jane wanted to smack the stupid twit across the back of her head.  “His wife is Amanda Blake.  She is the medical director at Sanford.  You don’t try to stop her when she’s here.”

“I got that,” Cathy muttered.  She looked at the clock and saw the minute hand inching towards 11:00.  It was going to be a long day.

 Amanda was able to sedate Robert with a 25 mg shot of chlorpromazine.   “It’s OK, Robert,” she soothed.  “I’m going to get someone to stay with you while you’re resting.”

Robert’s voice was thick as he muttered, “It better not be Daniel.  He was mean to me.”

She found Daniel waiting for her in the hall.  She quickly explained how Robert had been given a shot of chlorpromazine and was lying down.  She expressed the importance of watching him for an hour and if he showed any signs of aggression to give him another shot of the same dosage.  “It goes in the glute,” she explained.  “Call me later.  I want to know if he needed the shot or was released.”

Daniel felt a wave of relief as he hugged her close and kissed her forehead.  “Thanks, Mand.  You’re a lifesaver.”

Amanda pulled away, undeterred.  “Don’t forget.  Now I’m going back to Robert.  Please find someone to stay with him.”

Daniel looked at his watch, made a mental note, and walked to the nurses’ station.