Page 8 of The Cottage on Plum Island
“Can I still see Sam?” Angela asked, placing her hand on the glass case as she checked out the pies like a child looking into a candy shop window. “Look, Lee, they have my favorite.” Her eyes lit up, and she glanced at him excitedly. “Cherry. I want cherry. Please.”
“Okay.” Harley hooked the flowers into the crook of his arm and ordered a pie and some coffee. “Do you wantsome tea?”
“No, thank you.” Angela made a gagging face. “You know I hate that stuff.” She shuddered. “Can I have a grape soda, please, Lee?”
“Angie, you know you can only have pie or soda,” Harley reminded her.
“Fine!” Angela rolled her eyes and sighed, reminding him of a teenager not getting their own way. “I’ll have some water and pie.”
“Good choice,” Harley said, smiling.
They were walking to Sam’s room, with Angela digging into her pie while Harley balanced the coffee, her water, and the flowers, when Harley’s phone rang. He pulled it out and saw it was Margaret, again.
“Hello, Margaret. I’ve found Angela,” he told her.
“Oh, good. I was calling back to say, call me when you find my daughter,” Margaret said. “Can I speak to her?”
Harley looked at Angela, enjoying her pie. “Angie, your mothers on the phone and wants to speak to you.”
Angela’s head shot up. Her eyes widened and darkened as she dropped the plate that clattered to the ground and shattered around her bare feet.
“NO!” Angela’s words were laced with fear. “No!” She pointed at the phone, shaking her head, her eyes filling with panic as she grabbed her stomach.
“I have to go!” Harley hung up and pocketed his phone. Holding up his hands toward her as he saw she was about to have a panic attack. “It’s okay, Ange.” He glanced at her bare feet as they inched nearer the broken plate. “She’s not here anymore.”
“No!” Angela shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself, starting to sway.
“Nurse!” Harley called as loud as he could without startling Angela as he cautiously approached her. “Ange, don’t move. You’re going to cut your feet.”
“Home!” Angela’s breathing became labored, and her rocking motion started getting faster. “I want to go home!” Panic had her gasping for breath.
“Nurse!” Harley bellowed, dropping what he had in his hand on a bench next to him and lunging forward.
He heard someone ask what was wrong from behind him as he grabbed Angela, and she started freaking out, screaming, clawing, and trying to shake him off. But Harley held on, lifting her as gently as he could off the floor. He saw a nurse and doctor rush toward him. He barely heard what they asked him as Angela’s agitation grew.
“Can she take Lorazepam?” the doctor asked him again, preparing a needle already filled with the substance.
“Yes!” Harley nodded.
He held Angela as steady as he could. At the same time, the doctor administered the sedative, and within seconds, Angela’s body went limp in his arms. Harley scooped her up.
“What happened?” the doctor asked.
Harley explained how Angela escaped the mental health facility a few blocks down the road.
“I’ll call them,” the nurse offered.
“Ask for Annie Garmen,” Harley advised. “She’s head of the ward that Angela is in.”
The nurse nodded and started walking. “Follow me. We can take her to exam room five.”
“Thank you,” Harley said, following the nurse with the doctor walking beside him.
“Has your wife always suffered with mental health?” the doctor asked Harley.
“No!” Harley shook his head. “After a traumatic event, she had a breakdown.”
They walked into the room. Harley laid Angela on the bed, and the nurse started to take over.
