“I’m not sure that would have been the outcome had the situation escalated,” Brian countered, indulging in a bit of law enforcement patois. “But luckily that’s water over the dam. What I need to talk to you about is yet another claim denial involving my wife, and I demand an explanation.”
“I’m sure there is one. I’ll be happy to look into it. Can you give me your policy number again, so I can bring it up on my screen?”
After Brian did as he was told and after he had to suffer through yet another bout of Muzak, Ebony eventually returned on the line. “Okay, sorry for the wait. I have the adjuster’s report in front of me. I see the claim again involved another ED visit for your wife, Emma Murphy. I also see she is no longer with us. My sincerest condolences.”
“Thank you,” he said, rolling his eyes at the irony of someone from Peerless expressing condolences. “Last time Peerless saw fit not to cover an ED visit was because my wife had walked in during the afternoon. The explanation was that she didn’t need the resources of a Trauma 1 ED just to be admitted to the hospital. On this occasion, as I’m sure you can plainly see, she was literally carried in while undergoing CPR.”
“Yes, I see that,” Ebony agreed. “But I also see that the CPR wasn’t necessary.”
“Come again?” Brian asked with astonishment.
“It appears that our adjusters went over this claim rather carefully from their extensive write-up,” she said. “What they gathered from the paramedics’ report was that the patient was already brain dead in the paramedics’ judgment prior to even being put in the ambulance. In New York State, paramedics legally can determine death, meaning treatment efforts from then on were superfluous and Peerless is not fiscally responsible for them.”
“That’s crazy,” Brian blurted. “The paramedics started the CPR in our home and continued it all the way to the hospital.”
“That might have been the case, but they clearly thought the patient had suffered brain death from extended hypoxia. At least that’s what was in the report. I can understand you might not like this decision, and the same recourses are open to you if you feel our adjusters are in error. You can request a review and/or you can seek legal advice. It’s your right.”
Unable to take any more of such self-serving malarkey, Brian disconnected the call. Feeling equally as upset as he did after speaking with Roger Dalton, he was about to return to the basement workout room for another bout with the barbells when Camila came in.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said, unaware of Brian’s state of mind, “but there’s a new problem with Juliette.”
Caught between two polar emotions of rage and solicitude, he let his head fall into his hands and for a moment he forcibly massaged his scalp while his brain tried to reboot itself.
“Are you okay?”
After gritting his teeth and then running his fingernails through his thick hair several times almost to the point of pain, he looked up at Camila. The whites of his eyes were bright red. “What’s the problem?”
“She’s crying and seems inconsolable. She wants Bunny back.”
“Good God,” Brian managed, unable to think of an easy solution.
“She’s upstairs in her room and is really upset, and I don’t know what to say to her.”
“I’ll handle it,” Brian said. He stood up and headed for the stairs. Despite all his training both at the Police Academy and particularly at the ESU Academy about how to deal with psychological crises associated with hostage taking, suicide prevention, and talking down armed and desperate criminals, the thought of facing his bereaved daughter about her beloved stuffed rabbit seemed an impossible task. As he entered her room and looked down on her coiled up in a fetal position on her bed and sobbing, he felt totally inadequate. The rage he’d felt only moments before evaporated and was replaced completely by concern for his daughter.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, Brian stroked Juliette’s back. “Camila says you miss Bunny and want her back. Is that right?”
If anything, she seemed to respond by crying with more intensity.
“We can get her back if that’s what you want,” he said. “Or we can pick out a new Bunny.”
When there was still no response, Brian looked up at Camila standing in the doorway. She shrugged her shoulders, indicating she was at a loss.
“Okay,” Brian said. “Let’s see if we can find any wonderful rabbit toys to get for you so Mommy can have the company of Bunny like you wanted.” He reached for Juliette’s tablet and searched online for stuffed rabbits. He wasn’t certain there would be any, but he was pleasantly surprised. There was page after page of all sorts of stuffed rabbits, some that looked like Bunny and some that were significantly more attractive, especially given Bunny’s worse-for-wear condition. “Look at this,” he continued. “There’s lots and lots of options.”
If anything, Juliette’s tears only increased, and when Brian tried to put the tablet in her line of vision, she roughly pushed it away. It was clear she wasn’t going to have anything to do with searching for a new Bunny, but Brian was mildly encouraged. She’d at least responded.
“Do you want to go back to Grandma’s house and get Bunny?” he asked. He put down the tablet.
She shook her head no, which encouraged Brian even more. “If you stop crying and talk to me, we can figure this out,” he said. “Do you want me to go back to Grandma’s by myself?”
He waited for a few minutes and even repeated the question about him going back to the wake on his own and retrieving the rabbit. But Juliette didn’t respond although the tears lessened. Continuing with the back stroking, Brian remained sitting on the edge of the bed for several more minutes before getting to his feet and approaching Camila.
“I’m as lost as you are,” he said in a lowered voice. “I have no idea what to do. Do you think I should just go back to the wake and get the damn rabbit?”
“I’m not even sure that would have much of an effect. What about calling Jeanne? She’s amazing with Juliette. Maybe she might have a suggestion?”
“Actually, that’s probably the best idea.”
Taking out his phone, he stepped out into the hallway and made the call, hoping for the best. It felt a little embarrassing calling a woman whom he’d just met for advice for the second time in one day. But he was desperate. He was relieved when she answered in a friendly fashion using his name, meaning she’d at least probably added his name and number to her contacts.
“I hope I’m not catching you back in Inwood Hill Park,” he said, trying to be lighthearted despite the circumstances.
Jeanne laughed. “No, I’m home, but I must confess that I did go back and finish my ride when I left you. How did it go at the wake for you and your daughter?”
“It was a big stress for both of us,” Brian said. “And indirectly that is why I am calling. You encouraged me to call if I needed help. Well, Juliette put Bunny in the casket to keep my wife’s body company.”
“Bless her soul,” she said.
“Unfortunately, she has had a change of heart. At the moment she is crying her eyes out, wanting Bunny back. To make matters worse, she’s not talking again. I’m at a loss. Do you have any suggestions? I’ve offered to go back to the wake and get the damn thing, which I’m not excited about doing, but she won’t acknowledge that will make her feel better.”
“Oh, dear!” Jeanne voiced. Brian could hear her sigh. “Off the top of my head, I think your inclination is correct. I don’t think you should go back and get the toy. She misses her mother and now misses Bunny, probably conflating the two. She might be somehow thinking that if she gets the rabbit back, she’ll also get her mother back.”