Not true, said a youthful-looking male Free State spokesman, who made a brief statement to the press. “While Free State was sorry to let Mr. Adams go, along with hundreds of other emploees, the company is even more sorry that his personal troubles led to the continuing health problems of his son. We extend our condolences to the Adams family for their tragic loss. What the company maintains is that we are not responsible for Brent Adams’s death, and we regret the fact that Mr. Adams decided to take it out on twenty-four innocent people who not only did not know him personally, but were not directly involved in Brent’s death. To assign blame on the death of a loved one who has passed away from something such as cancer is irresponsible. It suggests that the split life or death decisions made by doctors in their everyday work to save and improve the lives of their patients now hang in the balance, that if they don’t do the right thing they will be the target of somebody who feels they weren’t doing their job right. To assign blame on a company for making a business decision is equally wrong and troubling in this economy.”
“What fucking horseshit!” Jay shouted at the TV. Donald felt his anger flare; once again, those with no medical training were laying the blame on doctors. The media was reporting it, further enforcing this in the mind of millions of gullible people who were already losing their faith in the medical system.
The more they watched the coverage the more angry Donald got, and he turned the TV off. “It figures that the management of the company who let this person go would then blame him for his downfall. It’s sad that this had to happen, but—”
“You’d think these dolts would learn by now that you don’t fuck with people,” Jay said. He took a sip of coffee. “Granted, a lot of people that go bugfuck in the office are mentally unstable anyway, but I’ve been hearing a lot of recent stories about guys just like this one. They get laid off suddenly, can’t get a job that paid them what they made at their old job, debts pile up, they lose their minds.”
Donald shook his head, thinking of the man’s son. “I don’t even want to imagine what he went through in losing his son like that. I guess if I were in his shoes, I would have blamed his former employer, too.”
They’d talked about it for awhile. Donald told Jay about Michael Brennan, the patient he was treating for testicular cancer and how his employer’s HMO refused to cover his surgery. Jay shook his head. “That’s fucked, man.”
Donald tried calling Michelle several times and always got her voice mail. He had grown concerned as the night wore on, and was just about to call her again when she called at midnight. “I can’t talk much,” she said, sounding tired. “We’re having a break now.”
Donald felt his unease grow. “Maybe you should come home,” he’d said. “Maybe—”
Michelle interrupted him. “I’m fine. Let me get through this weekend. I’m here now, and if I feel the same way come Monday, I’m resigning. I can’t deal with it.”
When Donald told Jay about their conversation, he frowned.
“Something’s up. I don’t know what, but…”
Donald was now dog-tired. He’d told Jay he was going to bed. “There’s linens and extra pillows in the hallway closet,” he’d said. “I’ll get some for you.”
“Thanks,” Jay said. He leaned back on the sofa. “I might just watch TV for awhile. You okay with that?”
Donald was okay with that, and when he turned in he kept his bedroom door open. The faint light from the TV seeped in from the hallway and he heard Jay get up once to venture into the kitchen for something. The next thing he was aware of was sunlight streaming through the Venetian blinds of his and Michelle’s bedroom window.
Now with a fresh pot of coffee brewing, Donald headed into the living room. Jay was on the sofa, still staring at the TV. As far as Donald knew he could have been up all night. Jay yawned. “What time is it?”
“Eight-thirty,” Donald answered.
“Think we should call Michelle?”
“Yeah.” Donald reached for the phone in the kitchen and dialed Michelle’s cell phone number.
Jay watched while the call went through. When it was picked up Donald barely recognized Michelle’s voice. “’lo.”
“Michelle?” She sounded dog-tired.
“Donald!” Her voice perked up, but it was still heavily tinged with fatigue. “What’s up?”
“How’d it go? You in your room?”
“Yeah.” There was a pause. It sounded like his call woke her up. Donald glanced at Jay and nodded. Jay held an imaginary phone to his ear, a questioning look in his eyes. Donald nodded and Jay darted into the master bedroom to pick up the extension there.
“You okay, honey?” Donald asked.
“Just… real tired.”
There was a clicking on the line and then Jay’s voice came through sharp and clear. “Hey, Michelle.”
“Jay.” Donald heard her yawn. “Damn, I’m beat.”
“No wonder,” Donald said. “You’ve been at it non stop now for over a week.”
“Yeah, and I’ve got more today.” There was another pause. “Shit,” she said, more of the fatigue trailing away from her voice as she began to slowly wake up. “I’ve got thirty minutes to shower and get ready.”
“The meeting’s at eight?” Donald asked.
“Yeah.”
Jay asked, “How’d it go last night?”
“I don’t know. Okay I guess. I was so tired I zoned out through most of it.”
“Who was there?”
“Oh… damn, you’re not gonna believe this.” Her voice grew sharper, more defined. “Dennis Harrington was there.”
“No shit?”
“Yeah. I couldn’t help thinking what you said yesterday,” Michelle said. There was another sound in the background, and then he heard running water. “He and Alma were there.”
“What was he like?” Jay asked.
“The same.” Donald could hear the rushing water more clearly now; it sounded like she was in the bathroom. “Listen, I gotta get ready for this meeting. I was up last night till two-thirty.”
“The meeting went on till two-thirty?” Donald blurted. He couldn’t believe it.
“Yeah. I tried to get out of it… tried to excuse myself, but Bill and Tom… they’re the guys from Corporate Financial who met me at the airport… they… they wouldn’t let me leave… and—”
Jay and Donald blurted simultaneously: “What the fuck do you mean they wouldn’t let you leave?” “They met you at the airport?”
“Whoa, one at a time here,” Michelle said. Donald detected a grin behind her voice. She was definitely waking up, slowly but surely.
“What’s this bullshit that they wouldn’t let you leave?” Jay demanded.
“They kept telling me it was important for me to be there,” Michelle said. “Look, I’ll tell you more tonight. I’ve really got to get ready for this meeting and—”
“They didn’t hurt you, did they?” Donald asked.
“No!” The denial came so quick that Donald knew she was telling the truth. “No, it’s nothing like that. It was more like… I didn’t want to get in trouble with my boss.”
“So they intimidated you,” Jay said.
“I guess you could say that.”
“Fuckers,” Jay muttered.
“And this meeting went on till two-thirty,” Donald reiterated.
“Yeah. But like I said, I zoned out. I stopped caring about being there and I think I actually fell asleep at one point.”
Donald felt a grin crack his features. “Good for you!”
“Yeah, well, I don’t want that to get back to Sam,” Michelle said. “I couldn’t help myself, so if I did fall asleep I’m going to be in deep shit.”