“In the kitchen, Larry. Just finishing up feeding the boys. Come meet my friend!”
Ruth stood and put out her hand as a large, round man with a receding hairline entered the kitchen. “Ruth Apter, so nice to meet you, Mr.—”
“Simpson, ma’am. Larry Simpson.” He had a kind smile and, as he shook Ruth’s hand, she liked him immediately.
“Larry, take Ruth to the other room. When I’m done, we three can sit.”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on your evening.” Ruth already felt more at ease now that she’d seen Estelle for herself. She could leave them in peace.
“Please, stay,” Larry said as he took a beer from the refrigerator and waved her to follow him into the small living room. “You came all this way. Can I get you a beer?”
“Oh no, thank you! Can’t risk feeling sleepy on my drive home.” She smiled.
As soon as they were settled, Larry leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “I’m glad you came, Mrs. Apter. I’ve been wanting to talk to someone about Stelle.”
“She seems well. And so happy with you and the boys. Is everything all right?”
“Oh yeah, yeah. Things are mostly fine. She’s my angel. I tell her every day that I must have done somethin’ right for the Lord to have sent me such a beautiful, kind soul for my own. Thing is, though, she has these ‘spells.’ And I’m not so sure about them. Didn’t bother me when it was just the two of us, but now that we have the boys . . . Sometimes I worry about leaving her here alone with ’em, you know?”
Ruth’s chest tightened. “What kind of spells?”
“Well, I told the doctor about ’em last time he called to check on Stelle and he said they were normal, no big deal. But I dunno. I don’t want Stelle to know that I’m worried about her. She doesn’t like to talk about the time she spent in the loony bin.” He swirled his finger in circles on the side of his head by his ear.
“Mr. Simpson, Emeraldine is not a loony bin. But I am concerned to hear about Estelle’s condition. Did you tell my associate, Mr. Mandrake, when he called you?”
“Not sure I know who you’re talking about. He probably just spoke to Stelle if he called durin’ the day. And she wouldn’t tell anyone about that.”
“I see. Well, I would like to help if I can. Can you tell me a little more about what happens during these ‘spells’ of hers?” Ruth looked anxiously at Estelle’s husband as he seemed to consider what to say.
“I don’t know. Stelle really doesn’t like us to talk about it too much.”
“I understand, but I can’t help if I don’t know what’s happening. We can keep it between us.”
“All right. Well . . . they’re kinda different all the time. In the beginning, she used to take off all her clothes in the middle of a meal or somethin’。 Before the boys, I thought she was tryin’ to be sexy. Sometimes she just starts screamin’。 Like a banshee. Or she’ll lock herself in the bathroom with the boys, like she’s under attack. Last time she took a knife in there with her. Like I told ya, the doctor said this is all normal after the thingy she had done, but . . . I dunno. Between us, I’m startin’ to worry more and more.”
Ruth attempted to appear calm, but it was a facade. She was in a panic. She needed to get out of there as soon as possible. “Mr. Simpson.” Reaching in her purse, she retrieved a business card. With a pen, she wrote her home phone number on it as well. “I want to reassure you, but I am not sure that I can. Please, keep a close watch on Estelle. If she has another ‘spell,’ call me immediately. Do you have any friends or family who can stay with her and the boys during the day?”
He shook his head. “Her father passed last year.” Suddenly his face lit up. “She does have a cousin in Philly. Maybe I can ask her to stay for a few days?”