front of the visiting room door. The room was all glass from the waist up. I could see my parents sitting at the small round table, waiting for me. Their backs were facing the door, so I took a moment to mentally prepare myself for whatever my parents had in store for me.
Elias put his hand on my shoulder. “Are you going to be all right?”
I looked up at his concerned gaze and nodded. While I didn’t relish the thought of seeing my parents again, I knew that this was inevitable. I couldn’t avoid my family forever. No one could.
What did they think of me? Why were they here? I didn’t delude myself to think that they were looking after my welfare. There was another reason, but what?
I turned the knob and took a hesitant step into the room.
“Oh Lucy!” My mother rose from her chair and engulfed me in a bear hug. “You haven’t called. We’ve been so worried about you.”
I refrained from reminding her about the point system, or how the hospital didn’t want me to have outside contact for the first few days so that I could adjust to my new surroundings. My mother knew all of this. She was there when Dr. Polanski told me.
I pressed my lips together in silence as she hugged me and then moved back to the chair.
“Lucy, how are you doing?” My father hugged me, and this almost brought tears to my eyes. Ever since he retired he had been much less overbearing and argumentative. It was almost as if retirement had brought peace and acceptance.
Acceptance of my mother’s domineering ways.
He never fought her, none of us did. It seemed as if we were all caught up in her ambitious wake. I think my father knew that I was suffering under my mother’s thumb. I saw it in the way he looked at me that day in the hospital after I woke up from the Vicodin overload. There was something in his eyes, as though he knew my pain and but couldn’t give me what I needed.
Unlike my mother, who was more worried about what the press would think than her daughter.
Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do about that. My father might have recognized that my mother was pushing too hard, but he did nothing to stop it. I’m sure he had his reasons, but I couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed.
And now, looking at their plastic smiles from across the visiting room table, I felt more like strangers than family.
“Please, have a seat.” My mother motioned to the empty seat across from her.
Because they were still my parents, I sat and folded my hands in my lap.
“How have you been?” my mom asked.
“Okay.”
“Did you have a chance to see the dogs?”
I looked up from my hands and stared at my mother’s surgically-perfected face. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “The dogs?”
My father cleared his throat. “Your mother is talking about Howlistic Healers.” He leaned forward in his chair and grinned as he placed his elbows on the table. “It’s your mother’s latest charity. It’s been gaining a lot of support on Capitol Hill.”
My parents droned on about their campaign to save the unwanted dogs until I felt like screaming.
“You just don’t get it, do you?” I finally said.
My mother had been talking about how well last night’s dinner auction to raise awareness had gone. She seemed rather perturbed to be interrupted. “Get what, dear?”
I shook my head. Unbelievable. “I’m not in this hospital to further your cause.”
“Of course not, dear.” My mom reached out across the table and patted my hand. “Calm down.”
“No one said that you were here for us,” my father added. “You’re here for you—just like we are. We want to see you well, princess.”
“Then why did you send the dogs here?”
“Well, since you were here, and Dr. Polanski seemed so nice, it felt like the perfect opportunity to test out our theory,” my mom said as she straightened in her chair.
“You mean to gain some publicity.” I made a frustrated noise and stood. “It would make a nice story if
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