Page 38 of Hawk's Cry

“Or me?” Drummer offers. “If he keeps saying ‘club business’, I can tell him when it’s not.”

Dr de Souza nods. “It could well be useful if you sat in on his sessions if Eli’s happy with you being there. In the meantime, he shouldn’t be left alone.”

“You think he’s a risk to himself?”

“You’ve got to understand he is in a world of mental pain right now and isn’t thinking straight,” Dr de Souza explains. “That’s why I’d prefer him on a ward so we can watch over him.”

“We’ll do that,” Drummer says firmly.

The doctor stands, his expression showing he doesn’t like it, but has to accept the decision. “I’ll set up his appointments and let you know about them. In the meantime, try to get him talking. If he won’t talk to me, see if you,” his eyes go to Drummer, then land on me, “can get him to explain when he first started feeling like he couldn’t cope.”

Amy also gets to her feet. “I’ll see you out,” she says.

She follows the doctor through the door. When she doesn’t immediately return, I suspect she’s talking about medical stuff with him, or thanking him for coming, the manners which, in my concern for Eli, I forgot.

“I’ll talk to him,” Drummer states firmly as his hands toy with his beard.

“He hasn’t been speaking to me,” I point out. “What makes you think he might talk to you?”

Drummer catches my eye. “I can talk to him on different levels. I’m his dad, I know everything about my son. I was also his prez, there’s nothing about the club he can’t talk about with me.”

“Whoa.” I hold up my hand. “He’s not even a member of the club anymore. He walked away and talking about it might be the last thing he needs. From what he’s said, he never wanted the position as VP.”

“That’s what he said,” Drummer agrees. “But there doesn’t seem to be anything on the outside that he wants.”

“There’s more to it.” Dad jerks his chin toward Eli’s father. “And we need to find out what if we’re going to help him.”

“Was it me?” I run my hands over my stomach. “Was it my getting pregnant?” My eyes fill with tears which I’m determined not to shed.

The door had opened while I was talking, and Amy clearly overheard.

“Did Eli want children?” she asks, coming to sit beside me.

I nod. “Yes. Definitely. We might have pre-empted things a little…” Dad snorts, and I toss him a glare. “But Eli was over the moon at first.”

Drummer ignores him. “We’ve got to get to the bottom of what’s driven Eli to where he is now, as where he’s at isn’t a good place for any man. He’s got no club for support, no job and a wife who’s having his baby. I doubt things worked out how he planned.”

“He didn’t plan,” I say. That’s the point isn’t it? Now I think he just wanted to get away, with no thought about what would happen after that. “What happens if he won’t talk to me, or to you, Drummer?”

Dad sits forward and bows his head. After a moment he looks up. “Least you can do, Drummer, is explain the club would be happy with him talking to the doctor. If you tell him you’ll go with him, he can be confident any secrets shared will be those you’re happy for him to give away.”

“What about me?” I waspishly ask. “I’m his wife.”

Both Dad and Drummer turn their heads my way and say at the same time, “Club business.”

“What should I do, how can I help him?” I try to push my annoyance at not being involved down, realising it’s not just hearing what they don’t want me to, it’s that Eli has always been programmed never to talk about the club to me. That way old ladies are protected. Though it’s maddening at times, it does make sense. My suspicion is that he’s using club business as an excuse not to talk at all. But I suppose there could be something he’s done for the club that’s playing on his mind. How can I help, though, if I don’t know what’s wrong?

“Be his wife, Olivia. He’ll need you,” Amy says, understanding my position. “He’ll need to be kept calm. Encourage him to rest or just watch TV. That’s the best you can do for him right now. Show him you’re there for him.”

And no more badgering about him getting a job, or reminding him of his responsibilities, I suppose. For a moment I wonder whether he would be better off on a psych ward with people who know what they’re doing around him. But I keep that to myself. Drummer would never go for that. He wants to be in control of the situation.

“Rob left a script for his medication.”

“I’ll go get it.” Dad stands.

When he leaves, I go to sit with my husband. Eli’s resting, a sleep induced by whatever the doctor had given him. I just watch, wondering where and how it all went wrong, and whether there’s really a chance we can get through this.

Does it help knowing Eli’s not been pushing me away because he doesn’t want me, but because he’s ill? No, I decide, it does not. I might be the cause of his problems.

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