Rogue

Chapter 2

During the night, the heavy rain turned to snow. The temperature dropped considerably, and everything was blanketed white when they woke up. It was the first real snow of the year. Sam took one look at it and clapped his hands in delight.

“Can we go to the park, Mom? We can take out the disks.” The snow was still falling, and the scene outside looked like a Christmas card, but Maxine knew that by the next day it would be a mess.

“Sure, sweetheart.” As she thought about it, she realized, as she always did, that Blake was missing the best part. He had traded all of this for jet-set parties and people all over the world. But in Maxine's eyes, the best of life was right here.

Daphne came in for breakfast with her cell phone glued to her ear. She left the table several times, whispering to a friend, as Jack rolled his eyes and helped himself to the French toast Maxine had made. It was one of the few things she could cook well, and often did. He poured on a huge amount of maple syrup and commented on how dumb Daphne and her friends were these days about boys.

“What about you?” his mother inquired with interest. “No girlfriends yet?” He went to a dancing class, and a coed school, and had plenty of opportunities to meet girls, but he had no interest in them yet. His primary interest so far was in sports. He liked soccer best of all, surfing the Internet, and video games.

“Yerghk” was his response, as he devoured another piece of French toast. Sam was lying on the couch, watching cartoons on TV. He had eaten breakfast an hour before when he got up. Everyone came and went at leisure on Saturday mornings, and Maxine cooked for them as they came in. She loved the domestic side of life that she didn't have time for during the week, when she was in a hurry to see patients at the hospital before she went to her office. She was usually out of the house well before eight o'clock, when the kids left for school. But with rare exceptions, she managed to have dinner with them every night.

She reminded Sam then that he had a sleepover at a friend's that night, and Jack chimed in that he did too. Daphne said three of her friends were coming over to watch a movie, and a couple of boys might drop by too.

“Now there's a new chapter,” Maxine commented with a look of interest. “Anyone I know?” Daphne just shook her head with a look of irritation and walked out of the room. Clearly, to her, the question didn't deserve an answer.

Maxine rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, and an hour later, she and all three of her children were headed to the park. At the last minute, the two older ones had decided to come along too. She had plastic disks for two of them, and she and Daphne wrapped garbage bags around their bottoms, and slid down the hills with the boys, and other children, with squeals of glee. It was still snowing, and her children were still young enough to act like little kids once in a while, instead of grown up, as they wanted to be. They stayed out till three o'clock and then walked home through the park. It had been fun, and she made them hot chocolate with whipped cream and s'mores when they got home. It was nice to think they weren't so old after all, and still enjoyed the same childhood pastimes they always had.

She dropped Sam off for his sleepover at five o'clock, on East 89th Street, Jack in the Village at six o'clock, and was back at the apartment in time for Daphne's friends to show up with a stack of rented movies. In the end, two additional girls had turned up. She ordered pizza for them at eight o'clock, and Sam called at nine “to see how she was,” which she knew from experience meant he might not spend the night at his friend's. Sometimes he couldn't pull it off, and came home to sleep with her or in his own bed. She told him she was fine, and he said he was too. She was smiling when she hung up, and could hear squeals of laughter coming from Daphne's room. Something told her they were talking about boys, and she wasn't wrong.

Two extremely uncomfortable-looking thirteen-year-old boys dropped by at ten o'clock. They were shorter than the girls by several inches, showed no signs of puberty, and devoured what was left of the pizza. And only minutes later, with mumbled excuses, they left. They had never made it as far as Daphne's room from the kitchen, and said they had to get home. They had been outnumbered by the girls three to one, but would have left early anyway. The scene was too much for them. The girls looked far more mature, and rushed back to Daphne's room to discuss it as soon as the boys had left. Maxine was smiling to herself, listening to them squeal and giggle, when the phone rang at eleven. She figured it was Sam wanting to come home, and she was still smiling when she answered, expecting to hear her youngest son's voice.

Instead, it was a nurse at Lenox Hill Hospital's emergency room, calling about one of her patients. Maxine frowned and instantly sat up in rapt attention, asking pertinent questions. Jason Wexler was sixteen, his father had died suddenly of a heart attack six months earlier, and his older sister had died in a car accident ten years before. He had taken a handful of his mother's sleeping pills. He suffered from depression, and had tried it before, though not since right after his father's death. He and his father had had a terrible argument the night he died, and Jason was convinced his father's heart attack and death were his fault.

The nurse said his mother was hysterical in the waiting room, Jason was conscious, and they were already pumping his stomach. They thought he was going to be okay, but it was close. His mother had found him and called 911, he had taken a lot of sleeping pills, and if she'd found him any later, he would have been dead. Maxine listened carefully. The hospital was only eight blocks away, and she could walk it at a good clip, in spite of the six inches of snow on the ground that had turned to slush late in the afternoon, and then frozen solid in brown icy patches by nightfall. It was treacherous when that happened.

“I'll be there in ten minutes,” she told the nurse efficiently. “Thank you for calling.” Maxine had given Jason's mother her home number and cell phone months before. Even when the call group covered for her most weekends, she wanted to be there herself for Jason and his mother if they ever needed her. She had been hoping they never would, and wasn't pleased to learn of his second suicide attempt. And she knew that his mother would be desperately upset. After losing her husband and her daughter, Jason was all she had left.

Maxine knocked on Zelda's door and saw that she was asleep. She wanted to let her know that she was going out to see a patient, and to listen for the girls, just in case. But she hated to wake her, so she closed the door softly without making a sound. It was her day off, after all. And then Maxine walked into Daphne's room as she pulled a heavy sweater over her head. She was already wearing jeans.

“I have to go out to see a patient,” she explained. Daphne knew, as they all did, that her mother went out to see special patients, even on the weekends, and she looked up and nodded. They were still watching DVDs and had gotten quieter as the night wore on. “Zelda's here, so if you need something, you can get her, but don't make too much noise in the kitchen, please, she's asleep.” Daphne nodded again, her eyes riveted to the screen. Two of her friends had fallen asleep on her bed, and one was doing her nails. The others were avidly watching the film. “I'll be back in a while.” Daphne knew it was probably an attempted suicide. Her mother never said much about it, but that was the reason she usually went out late at night. Her other patients could wait till the next day.

Maxine put on boots with rubber soles and a ski parka, picked up her purse, and hurried out the door. She was on the street minutes later, walking against a bitter-cold wind, moving south at a good clip down Park Avenue, toward Lenox Hill Hospital. Her face was stinging and raw and her eyes watering by the time she got there, and walked into the emergency room. She checked in at the desk, and they told her what cubicle Jason was in. They had decided he didn't need to go to the ICU. He was groggy but out of danger, and they were waiting for her to admit him for the night, and decide the rest. Helen Wexler pounced on her the minute she walked into the room, clung to her, and began to sob.

“He almost died…,” she said, hysterical in Maxine's arms, as Maxine led her gently from the room, with a glance at the nurse. Jason was dozing in the bed and hadn't stirred. He was still heavily sedated from the residue of what he'd taken, but he no longer had enough on board to risk his life. Just enough to help him sleep for a long time. His mother kept repeating that he had almost died. Maxine led her a fair distance down the hall, just in case her son woke up.

“But he didn't, Helen. He's going to be all right,” Maxine said calmly. “You were lucky you found him, and he's going to be fine.” Until the next time. That was Maxine's job to deal with, so that there wouldn't be a third time. Although once suicide was attempted, by any patient, the statistical risk of their trying again was infinitely higher, and the chance of success likelier each time. Maxine wasn't happy that he had tried it a second time.

Maxine got Jason's mother to sit in a chair, and take some deep breaths. And finally, she managed to speak calmly about it. Maxine said she thought Jason should be hospitalized for longer this time. She suggested a month, after which they could see how he was doing, and she recommended a facility she worked with frequently on Long Island. She assured Helen Wexler that they were very good with adolescents. Helen looked horrified.

“A month? That means he won't be home for Thanksgiving. You can't do that,” she said, crying again. “I can't put him away over the holidays. His father just died, this will be our first Thanksgiving without him,” she insisted, as though that made a difference now, with her son at risk for a third suicide attempt. It was amazing what denial did to the mind, and what one clung to, in order not to face the realities of the situation. If Jason succeeded at a third attempt, he would never have another Thanksgiving. It was well worth sacrificing this one. But his mother didn't want to hear that, and Maxine was trying to be firm but compassionate and gentle, she always was.

“I think that right now he needs the protection and the support. I don't want to bring him home too soon, and the holidays are going to be hard for him without his dad too. I seriously think he'll do better at Silver Pines. You can have Thanksgiving with him there.” Helen just cried harder.

Maxine was anxious to see her patient. She told Helen they would talk about it later, but they both agreed that he should spend the night at Lenox Hill. There was no other choice, he was in no shape to go home. Helen was in full agreement with that, just not the rest. She hated the idea of Silver Pines. She said it sounded like a cemetery to her.

Maxine checked Jason quietly while he was sleeping, read the chart, and was alarmed to see how much of the drug he'd taken. He had taken far more than a lethal dose, unlike last time when he had barely taken enough to kill himself. This time had been a far more serious attempt, and she wondered what had brought it on. She was going to spend time with Jason the next morning when he woke up. There was no hope of talking to him now.

She made some notes on Jason's chart of what she wanted. They were going to move him to a private room later that night, and her orders included a nurse with him, on suicide watch. There had to be someone there to observe him even before he woke up. She told the nurse she'd be back the next morning at nine o'clock, and if they needed her sooner, they should call. She left them her home and cell phone numbers, and then sat down again with Jason's mother outside. Helen seemed even more devastated than before, as reality began to hit her. She could easily have lost her son that night, and been alone in the world. The very thought of it nearly drove her over the edge. Maxine offered to call her physician, in case she wanted sleeping pills, or some mild sedation, which Maxine didn't want to prescribe herself. Helen wasn't her patient and Maxine didn't know her history or what other medications she might be on.

Helen said she had already called her doctor. He was supposed to call her back, but he was out. She said Jason had used all her sleeping pills, so she had no more at home. She started crying harder again as she said it, and she clearly didn't want to go home alone.

“I can ask them to put a cot in Jason's room for you if you like,” Maxine said gently, “unless that would be too upsetting for you.” If so, she'd have to go home.

“I'd like that,” Helen said softly, her eyes wide as she looked at Maxine. “Is he going to die?” she whispered then, terrified of knowing but trying to brace herself for the worst.

“This time? No,” Maxine said, shaking her head solemnly, “but we have to be as sure as we can be that there won't be a next time. This is serious business. He took a lot of pills. That's why I want him to stay at Silver Pines for a while.”

Maxine didn't want to tell the boy's mother now that she wanted him there for a lot longer than a month. She was thinking more like two or three months, and maybe an interim support facility after that, if she thought he needed it. Fortunately, they could afford it, but that wasn't the issue. She could see in Helen's eyes that she wanted Jason to come home, and she was going to fight Maxine on a longer hospital stay. It was a very foolish position for her to take, but Maxine had dealt with that before. If Jason was sent to a psychiatric hospital, they'd have to face that this wasn't just a “little mishap,” he was truly sick. Maxine had no doubt in her mind that he was suicidal and severely clinically depressed. He had been ever since his father's death. It was more than his mother wanted to face, but at this point she had no choice. If she took him home with her the next day, it would be against doctor's orders, and she would have to sign a release. Maxine hoped it wouldn't come to that. Hopefully, she'd calm down by the next day, and do the safest possible thing for her son. Maxine didn't like admitting him either, but she had no doubt about how important it was for him. His life was at stake.

Maxine asked the nurses to set up a cot for Helen in her son's room, once they moved him out of the ER. She left her with a warm touch on her shoulder, and checked Jason again before she left. He was doing fine. For now. There was a nurse with him, who would go to his room with him. He would not be left alone again. There was no locked ward at Lenox Hill, but Maxine thought he would be fine with a nurse close at hand, and his mother there too. And it would be many hours before he woke up.

She walked back to the apartment in the icy cold. It was after one A.M. when she got home. She glanced into Daphne's room, and everything seemed peaceful there. All the girls had fallen asleep, two in sleeping bags, the rest on Daphne's bed. The movie was droning on, and they were still dressed, and then as she looked at them, she noticed an odd smell. It wasn't a smell she had ever noticed in Daphne's room before. She had no idea why, but she walked to her closet and opened the door, and was startled to see two empty six-packs of beer. She looked at the girls again, and realized they weren't just asleep, they were drunk. They seemed a little young to her to be sneaking beer, but in fact it wasn't unknown at that age. She wasn't sure whether to cry or to laugh. She didn't know when it had started, but they had taken full advantage of her going to the hospital. She hated to do it, but she would have to ground Daphne the next day. She lined up the empty bottles on her dresser, neatly, for them to see when they woke up. They had managed to consume two bottles of beer each, which was plenty for kids that age. So, she whispered to herself, adolescence has begun. She lay in bed afterward, thinking about it, and for a minute she missed Blake. It would have been nice to share the moment with someone. Instead, as usual, she would have to play the heavy the next day, wearing a kabuki mask of disappointment as she read the riot act to her daughter, and talked to her about the deeper meaning of trust. When in fact, Maxine well understood she was a teenager and that there would be many, many nights in their future when someone did something stupid, her own kids or others took advantage of a situation, or experimented with alcohol or drugs. And it surely wasn't the last time that one of her children would get drunk. Maxine knew she would be lucky if it didn't get much worse than this. And she also knew that she had to take a firm stand about it the next day. She was still thinking about it when she fell asleep. And when she got up in the morning, the girls were still sleeping.

The hospital called her while she was getting dressed. Jason was awake and talking. The nurse said his mother was with him, and she was very upset. Helen Wexler had called her own physician, and according to the nurse, instead of reassuring her, he had unnerved her more. Maxine said she'd be in shortly, and hung up. She heard Zelda in the kitchen then, and went in to pour herself a cup of coffee. Zelda was sitting at the kitchen table, with a mug of steaming coffee, and the Sunday Times. She looked up when she saw Maxine walk in and smiled.

“Peaceful night?” Zelda asked, as Maxine sat down at the table with a sigh. Sometimes she felt as though Zelda was her only support system in bringing up the kids. Her parents never offered much advice, although they meant well. And Blake had been a no-show all their lives. Zelda was it.

“Not exactly,” Maxine said with a rueful grin. “I think we hit some kind of milestone last night.”

“Most pizza eaten in the history of the world by six teenage girls?”

“No,” Maxine said in measured tones, with laughter in her eyes. “First time one of my kids got drunk on beer.” She smiled, and Zelda looked at her with wide eyes.

“Are you kidding?”

“No. I found two empty six-packs in Daffy's closet when I checked. It wasn't pretty. Fully dressed bodies sprawled everywhere, when I walked in, and everyone sound asleep, or I guess ‘passed out' would be the correct term.”

“Where were you when they did it?” Zelda was surprised that Daphne had had the guts to drink while her mother was in the next room. And she was faintly amused too, although neither woman was pleased. It was the beginning of a whole new scene that they weren't looking forward to. Boys, drugs, sex, and booze. Welcome to the teenage years. The worst was yet to come.

“I had to go see a patient last night. I was out from eleven to one. One of them must have brought the beer in her backpack. I've never thought about that before.”

“I guess from now on we check,” Zelda said matter-of-factly, not in the least embarrassed to challenge Daphne and her friends. She was not about to let any of them get drunk on her watch, and she knew Maxine wouldn't either. And before you knew it, Jack would be in the midst of it too, and one day Sam. What a thought. Zelda wasn't looking forward to any of it, but she had every intention of sticking around. She loved the family, and her job.

The two women chatted for a few minutes, and then Maxine said she had to go back to Lenox Hill to see her patient. Zelda was off, but she wasn't going anywhere. She said she'd keep an ear out for the girls, and hoped they felt like shit when they woke up. Maxine laughed in response.

“I left the empty bottles on her dresser, just so they know I'm not as dumb as I look.”

“They're going to freak when they see that,” Zelda said, amused.

“They should. It was a pretty sneaky thing to do, and an abuse of my trust and hospitality…” She looked at Zelda with a grin. “I'm warming up for my speech to her. How do I sound?”

“Good. Grounding her and cutting off her allowance might be a nice touch too.” Maxine nodded. She and Zelda always shared pretty much the same point of view. Zelda was firm but reasonable, kind but sensible, and not too strict. She wasn't a tyrant, but she wasn't a pushover either. Maxine had full confidence in her, and her sound judgment, whenever she herself wasn't around. “What did you go out for last night? A suicide?” Zelda asked. Maxine nodded, serious again. “How old?” Zelda respected her enormously for what she did.

“Sixteen.” Maxine offered no other details. She never did. Zelda nodded. Worse than that, she could always see it in Maxine's eyes when one of them died. Zelda's heart went out to the parents as much as to the kid. Teenage suicide was a terrible thing. And judging how busy Maxine's practice was, there was a lot of it in New York, and everywhere else. Compared to that, two six-packs of beer shared among six thirteen-year-old girls didn't seem like such a tragedy. What Maxine dealt with every day was.

Maxine left a few minutes later and walked the short distance to Lenox Hill, as she always did. It was windy and cold, but the sun was out, and it was a beautiful day. She was still thinking of her daughter and her caper the night before. It was definitely the beginning of a new era for them, and she was grateful again for Zelda's help. They were going to have to keep a close watch on Daphne and her friends. She was going to mention it to Blake when he was in town too, just so he was aware. They couldn't fully trust her anymore, and probably wouldn't be able to for years. It was a little daunting thinking about it. It was all so easy when they were the age of Sam. And how quickly time sped by. Soon they would all be teenagers, up to mischief of all kinds. But at least, for the moment anyway, it was pretty normal stuff.

When she got to Jason's room at the hospital, he was sitting up in bed. He looked groggy, worn out, and pale. His mother was sitting in a chair, talking to him, crying and blowing her nose. It didn't look like a happy scene. And the nurse on suicide watch was sitting quietly on the other side of the bed, trying not to intrude and be discreet. All three of them looked up when Maxine walked in.

“How are you feeling today, Jason?” Maxine glanced at the nurse and nodded, and the woman quietly left the room.

“Okay, I guess.” He looked and sounded depressed, a normal reaction to the overdose of drugs he'd taken, and he'd obviously been depressed before that anyway. His mother looked almost as bad, as though she hadn't slept, with dark circles under her eyes. She had been extorting a promise from him not to do it again, when Maxine walked in, and Jason had reluctantly agreed.

“He says he won't do it again,” Helen explained, as Maxine looked him in the eye. What she saw there troubled her.

“I hope that's true,” Maxine said, quietly unconvinced.

“Can I go home today?” Jason asked, sounding flat. He didn't like having a nurse in the room with him, and she had explained that she couldn't leave the room, unless she was replaced by someone else. He felt like he was in jail.

“I think we need to talk about that,” Maxine said, standing at the end of the bed. She was wearing a pink sweater and jeans and looked almost like a kid herself. “I don't think that's a good idea,” she said honestly. She never lied to her patients. It was important that she told them the truth as she saw it. They trusted her because of it. “You took a lot of pills last night, Jason. I mean really a lot. You weren't kidding around this time.” She looked at him, he nodded, and then looked away. He was embarrassed now in the cold light of day.

“I was kind of drunk. I didn't know what I was doing,” he said, trying to brush it off.

“I think you did,” Maxine said quietly. “You took a lot more than last time. I think you need to take some time off now and think about it, work on it, do some groups. I think it's important that we deal with this, and I'm sure it's tough now with the holidays coming up, having lost your dad this year.” She had hit the nail on the head, and his mother stared at her with a look of panic. She looked as though she was about to jump out of her skin. Her own anxiety was sky high, and she was suffering the same things as her son, without the guilt. Jason being convinced he had killed his dad tipped the scale for him. Dangerously so. “I'd like you to go someplace where I've worked with kids before. It's pretty nice. The kids there are from fourteen to eighteen. Your mom can visit you every day. But I think we need to get a handle on what's happening now. I don't feel comfortable sending you home just yet.”

“How long?” he asked, sounding noncommittal and trying to be cool, but she could see the fear in his eyes. It was a scary thought for him. But his succeeding at his next suicide attempt frightened her even more. She had a lifetime commitment not to let that happen, if she could do anything about it. And often, she could. She wanted this to be one of those times, and to avert tragedy before it happened to them again. They'd had enough.

“Let's try it for a month. Then we'll talk, and see what you think and how you feel about it. I don't think you'll love it, but I think you might like it there.” And then she added, smiling, “It's coed.” He didn't smile in response. He was too depressed to care about girls right now.

“What if I hate it and don't want to stay?” He looked her in the eye.

“Then we'll talk.” If they had to, they could ask to have him committed by the courts, since he had just proven he was a danger to himself, but that would be traumatic for him and his mother. Maxine much preferred voluntary commitment, whenever possible. Jason's mother spoke up then.

“Doctor, do you really think…I was talking to my doctor this morning, and he was saying that we should give Jason another chance… he says he was drunk and didn't know what he was doing, and he just promised me that he won't do it again.” Maxine knew better than anyone that his promise wasn't worth a damn. And Jason knew it too. His mother wanted it to be something she could rely on, but she couldn't. Without question, her son's life was at risk.

“I don't think we can count on that,” Maxine said simply. “I'd like you to trust me on this,” she added quietly. She noticed that Jason wasn't arguing with her, his mother was. “I think your mom is upset that you won't be at home for Thanksgiving, Jason. I told her she can have Thanksgiving with you there. Visits are encouraged.”

“Thanksgiving's going to suck this year anyway, without my dad. I don't care.” He closed his eyes and laid his head back on his pillow, shutting them out. Maxine gestured to his mother to follow her outside, and as soon as they left the room, the private duty nurse went back in to sit with him. He would be closely watched at Silver Pines too. And at Silver Pines, the wards were locked, which was what Maxine knew Jason needed. Right now anyway, and maybe for a while.

“I think this is the right thing to do,” Maxine explained to her, as tears rolled down Helen's cheeks. “It's my strong recommendation. It's up to you, but I don't think you can protect him properly at home. You can't stop him from doing it again.”

“Do you really think he'll try?” His mother looked terrified.

“Yes, I do,” Maxine said clearly. “I'm almost certain of it. He's still convinced he killed his father. It's going to take time to get him past that idea. And in the meantime, he needs to be in a facility where he'll be safe. You won't get a moment's sleep if he's at home,” she added, and his mother nodded.

“My own doctor thought we could give him another chance. He said boys his age often do this for attention.” She was repeating herself, as though hoping to convince Maxine, who understood the situation far better than she.

“He meant it, Helen. He knew what he was doing. He took three times the fatal dose of your medication. Do you want to risk that again, or have him jump out the window? He could run past you and do it in a flash. You can't give him what he needs right now at home.” She wasn't pulling any punches, and slowly his mother nodded, and started crying harder. She couldn't bear the thought of losing her son.

“All right,” she said softly. “When does he have to go?”

“I'll see if they have a bed for him today or tomorrow. I'd like to get him out of here as soon as possible. They can't protect him properly here either. This isn't a psychiatric hospital. He needs to be at a place like Silver Pines. It's not as bad as you think, and it's the right place for him right now, at least until he's no longer in crisis, maybe after the holidays.”

“You mean Christmas too?” Helen Wexler looked panicked.

“We'll see. We'll discuss that later, when we see how he's doing. He needs some time to get his bearings.” His mother nodded and then went back into his room, while Maxine went to call Silver Pines. Five minutes later, everything was all set. Luckily, they had room for him. And Maxine arranged to have him transferred by ambulance at five o'clock that afternoon. His mother could go with him to help settle him in, but she couldn't spend the night.

Maxine explained everything to both of them, and said she would go to visit Jason there the next day. She would have to move some patients to do it, but it was a good day for that. She knew she had nothing crucial on her calendar in the afternoon, and her only two crisis cases were scheduled for the morning. He seemed peaceful about going there, and Maxine was still talking to them when a nurse came in and said there was a Dr. West on the phone for her.

“Dr. West?” Maxine looked blank. “Is he asking me to admit a patient for him?” Physicians did that all the time, but she didn't recognize his name. And then suddenly Jason's mother looked embarrassed.

“He's my doctor. I asked him to talk to you because he thought Jason should come home. But I understand…I guess… I'm sorry… do you mind talking to him anyway? I don't want him to feel I asked him to call for nothing. We'll send Jason to Silver Pines, maybe you could just tell Dr. West it's all arranged.” Helen looked awkward, and Maxine told her not to worry about it. She spoke to other physicians all the time. She asked if he was a psychiatrist, and Helen said he was her internist. Maxine left the room to take the call at the nurses' station. She didn't want to have the conversation within earshot of Jason. It was purely a formality now anyway. She picked up the line with a smile, expecting to talk to some friendly, naïve doctor, who wasn't used to dealing with adolescent suicides on a daily basis, as she was.

“Dr. West?” Maxine said, sounding young, efficient, and pleasant. “I'm Dr. Williams, Jason's psychiatrist,” she explained.

“I know,” he said, sounding condescending with just those two words. “His mother asked me to call you.”

“So I understand. We've just finished making arrangements for him to be admitted to Silver Pines this afternoon. I think it's the right placement for him right now. He took a lethal dose of his mom's sleeping pills last night.”

“It's amazing what kids will do for attention, isn't it?” Maxine listened to him in disbelief. He was not only patronizing to her, he sounded like a total jerk.

“This is his second attempt. And I don't think three times the fatal dose is a ploy for attention. He's telling us loud and clear he wants out. We need to address that in a very serious way.”

“I really think the boy would do better at home with his mother,” Dr. West said as though talking to a child, or a very, very young nurse.

“I'm his psychiatrist,” Maxine said firmly, “and my professional opinion is that if he goes home with his mother, he'll be dead within a week, possibly twenty-four hours.” It was as blunt as she could get, and she wouldn't have said it to Jason's mother. But she wasn't going to pull any punches with the condescending, very arrogant Dr. West.

“That seems a little hysterical to me,” he said, sounding annoyed this time.

“His mother has agreed to admit him. I don't think we have any other choice. He needs to be in a locked ward, under careful watch. There's no way to set that up in a foolproof way at home.”

“Do you lock up all your patients, Dr. Williams?” He was downright insulting, and Maxine was starting to get mad. Who the hell did he think he was?

“Only the ones in danger of killing themselves, Dr. West, and I don't think your patient is going to be in great shape if she loses her son. What would your assessment be of that?”

“I think you need to leave the assessment of my patients to me,” he said, sounding huffy.

“Precisely. Good point. And I suggest you leave mine to me. Jason Wexler is my patient, I've been seeing him since his first suicide attempt, and I'm not liking what I see at all, or what I'm hearing from you, as a matter of fact. If you'd like to look up my credentials on the Internet, Dr. West, be my guest. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go back to my patient. Thanks for the call.” He was still blustering when she hung up, and she had to hide the fact that she was livid when she walked back into Jason's room. It wasn't their problem that she and Helen's physician had hated each other on the phone. He was the kind of pompous jerk who cost lives, as far as Maxine was concerned, and a real menace, dismissing the seriousness of the crisis Jason was in. He needed to be in a locked psychiatric facility just like Silver Pines. Screw Dr. West.

“Did everything go all right?” Helen looked at her anxiously, and Maxine hoped that she couldn't see how angry she was. She covered her anger with a smile.

“It was fine.” Maxine examined Jason then, and stayed with him for another half hour, telling him what Silver Pines would be like. He pretended not to care or be scared, but Maxine knew he was. He had to be. This was a frightening time for him. First he had almost died, and now he was stuck having to face life again. As far as he was concerned, it was the worst of both worlds.

She left them, and assured Helen that she would be available all day and that night and the next day for calls. And then after signing his discharge papers, she left the hospital and walked home. She was fuming about that idiot doctor, Charles West, on her brief walk up Park Avenue. And Daphne and her friends were still asleep when she got home. It was almost noon by then.

This time, Maxine strode into her daughter's room and raised the shades. The bright morning sunlight poured into the room, and she called out loudly, telling them to rise and shine. None of them looked well as they groaned and got up. And then, as she climbed out of bed, Daphne spotted the lineup of empty beer bottles on her dresser and saw the look in her mother's eyes.

“Oh shit,” she said softly, glancing swiftly at her friends. They all looked scared.

“You might say that,” Maxine said coolly, glancing at the others, then, “Thanks for dropping by, girls. Get dressed and get your stuff. The party's over. And as for you”-she turned to Daphne again- “you're grounded for the month. And whoever brings any kind of alcohol here again won't be allowed to come back. You all violated my hospitality and my trust. I'll speak to you later,” she said to Daphne, who looked panicked. The girls began to whisper frantically as soon as Maxine left the room. They dressed hurriedly, and all they wanted to do now was leave. Daphne had tears in her eyes.

“I told you it was a dumb idea,” one of the other girls said.

“I thought you hid the bottles in the closet,” Daphne complained.

“I did.” They were all near tears. It was the first time they had done anything like it, but surely not the last. Maxine knew that better than they did.

“She must have checked.”

The girls were dressed and gone in under ten minutes, and Daphne went looking for her mother. She found her in the kitchen, talking quietly to Zelda, who looked at Daphne with stern disapproval and didn't say a word. It was up to Maxine how she chose to handle this.

“I'm sorry, Mom,” Daphne said, bursting into tears.

“So am I. I trusted you, Daff. I always have. I don't want anything to screw that up. What we have is precious.”

“I know…I didn't mean to… we just thought…I…”

“You're on a month's restriction. No phone calls for the first week. No social life for the month. You go nowhere alone. And no allowance. That's it. And don't let it happen again,” she said sternly. Daphne nodded silently and slunk back to her room. They both heard the door close softly behind her. Maxine was sure she was crying, but she wanted to leave her alone for now.

“And this is only the beginning,” Zelda said glumly, and then both women laughed. It didn't seem like the end of the world to either of them, but Maxine wanted to make a big impression on her daughter so it didn't happen again anytime soon. Thirteen was too young for them to be having beer parties on the sly in her bedroom, so she had made her point.

Daphne stayed in her room for the rest of the afternoon, after turning her cell phone in to her mother. The phone was her lifeline, and giving it up was a major sacrifice.

Maxine picked up both boys by five o'clock, and when he got home, Daphne told Jack what had happened. He was startled but impressed, and told her what she already knew, that it was a really dumb thing to do, and that their mother had been bound to find out. According to Jack, their mother knew everything and had radar of some kind and X-ray vision implanted in her head. It was part of the options package that came with moms.

The four of them had a quiet dinner in the kitchen that night, and all of them went to bed early, since the next day was a school day. Maxine was sound asleep at twelve o'clock when the nurse at Silver Pines called her. Jason Wexler had made another suicide attempt that night. He was in good condition and stable. He had taken off his pajamas and tried to hang himself with them, but the nurse assigned to him had found him and revived him. Maxine realized they had moved him out of Lenox Hill in the nick of time, and thank God his mother hadn't listened to the pompous, idiotic Dr. West. She told the nurse she'd be out to see Jason the following afternoon, and she could only imagine how his mother would take the news. Maxine was grateful he was alive.

As she lay in bed afterward, she realized that it had been a busy weekend after all. Her daughter had gotten drunk on beer for the first time, and one of her patients had attempted suicide twice. All things considered, matters could have been a lot worse. Jason Wexler could have been dead. She was relieved he wasn't, although she would have liked to give Charles West a piece of her mind. He was an utter fool. Maxine was happy that Jason's mother hadn't listened to him, and had trusted her. All that mattered was that Jason was alive. She just hoped he would stay that way. With each attempt he was at greater risk. Compared to that, Daphne's little beer party on Saturday night was child's play, which was all it was anyway. She was still thinking about it when Sam padded into her room in the dark and came to stand next to her bed.

“Can I sleep with you, Mom?” he asked solemnly. “I think there's a gorilla in my closet.”

“Sure, sweetheart.” She slid over and made room for him, as he cuddled up next to her. She was wondering if she should explain to him that there wasn't a gorilla in his closet, or just let it go.

“Mom?” he was whispering next to her, cozy beside her.

“Yeah?”

“About the gorilla…I made it up.”

“I know.” She smiled at him in the dark, kissed his cheek, and a moment later, they were both asleep.