It Wasn't Just Another Day

Buzz!

I stood before the intercom imagining that the camera eye was looking into my soul.  The odor of antiseptic cleaning agents pervaded the corridor.  Apprehension and fear enveloped me like a spandex running suit.  I thought, 'What if they see the guilt I feel?  Do they know I'm the reason she's here?'

"Can I help you?"  The sharp voice jolted me back to reality.

"Uh, I'm here to see Leslie Morgan," I said softly, trying to counteract the harsh voice.

"Do you have a code word?"

"A code word?" I repeated, confused.  "No.  But I'm her husband."

"Just a minute.  I'll see if she wants to see you.  Wait there."

What a stupid thing to say--wait there.  Where the hell was I going to go?  If she wants to see me....  And what was all this about a code word?  Where would I get such a word?  I was drowning in self-pity.  I hated hospitals.  Was it just yesterday afternoon that I got a seemingly innocent phone call from Kate?

* * *

"Mick?  Where are you right now?" Kate asked.

"I'm at the shop doing some writing," I said.  "Why?" I added.  Kate was Leslie's best friend, though she seldom called me out of the blue.

My heart began beating faster and I felt fear welling up inside me.  Leslie and I had had a huge fight the night before and she'd left without her cell phone.  I went to bed at midnight, and she hadn't returned when I rose the next morning.  I assumed she'd gone to Kate's. 

"I'm at the ER with Leslie...."

"What?"  I jumped to my feet knocking my chair over.  "What happened?  Is she alright?"

"Calm down, Mick." 

She paused as though trying to figure out what to say next.  The beating of my heart got louder with each passing second.  I was almost deaf when she continued.

"Mick, Leslie told me she finally had a plan to kill herself."

I was stunned.  I didn't know what to think.  So many thoughts rushed through my mind as I tried to understand what Kate just said.  Kill herself.  Just like that--just a phrase, two words ... and yet so intense, so final.  And so meaningless. 

I got angry.  What the hell was Leslie thinking?  Okay, so she was upset with me.  What about her friends?  Or the kids?  What about that faith she so often told me had sustained her through every trial she'd had over the years.  I was always the one who felt like something was missing from my life.  Leslie tried to tell me that I needed to give myself to Jesus.  It's strange--I was never able to make that level of commitment, and yet I'm the one living my life without regret.  At least till now.

Oh, don't get me wrong--I believe in God.  I know the Almighty exists.  I mean, look around you.  How can a world this complex and beautiful happen by accident?  Yep, Satan exists too, constantly working against that beauty and our peace.  But I could never muster the level of faith Leslie had.  I'd told her repeatedly how proud I was of her ability to see the good in others.

So how could she reconcile taking her own life with her faith?  I didn't understand.

"Is she okay?  How is she now?  Did she actually try something?  What happened?"  I fired off questions like a machine gun not giving Kate any chance to reply.  I was afraid to ask the most important question: "Will she see me?"

"I think you should come to the hospital," she said.  "I'll explain everything when you get here."

I picked up my chair and slumped into it.  I felt drained, and tried to think of what to do.  I was responsible for this.  I drove her to this.  I must have.  She wouldn't do this on her own.  How could things have gotten so bad?

I dragged myself out to my car.  Instinct took over as the car headed toward the ER some thirty minutes away.  One half hour that was at once too long a time to think, yet too short to make sense of her actions.

What did I do wrong?  I ran over the past six weeks in my mind.  I knew what this was about.  Leslie thought I was having an affair with my office manager, Jana.  I wasn't ... at least, not in the strict sense of the word.  We're both married and take our vows seriously.  But I had to admit to having a bond that transcends the boss-employee relationship.  We were good friends who could talk with each other without fear of being judged for what we say.  That's something I didn't have with my wife.

'Damn,' I thought.  'That's it, you dumb mother.  You don't talk with Leslie anymore.  You're so afraid of saying the wrong thing, of being told how negative you are toward others, or so afraid of any confrontation that you stopped talking to her.' 

Maybe we were too busy with our lives--kids, school, work, church--to really communicate.  I never knew what I was missing until Jana came along.  I realized I was having an affair--an emotional affair, an affair of the minds.  I finally saw what Leslie had been trying to tell me these past several weeks.  I enjoyed Jana's company more than I did hers.  It was easy; it was light; it was fun.  Leslie saw that relationship ... and wanted what she couldn't have.

I'd pulled away from the woman I loved, and I couldn't even tell how or when it had happened. 

Perhaps the real beginning was ten years ago when, on the advice of our Pastor's wife, I put Leslie in the hospital for severe clinical depression.  I thought she was depressed over her job, that too much responsibility was being heaped on her.  I was unable to cope and drove her to the hospital.  They admitted her.  It took months of counseling to deal with the guilt I felt over that.  Leslie came out with medications for depression, and a loss of something that she never quite regained.  We learned to live with this new life--through the ups and downs of our lives and her depression.  And I learned to walk on eggshells.

I pulled into a parking space, and just sat there, afraid to go in.  Deja vu.  No, not quite.  This time I hadn't brought Leslie.  In fact, she hadn't even turned to me for help.  What was it Kate said?  Leslie had a plan on how to end her life; Kate described it in detail.  Her words chilled me beyond belief.  I took a deep breath, suppressing the shudder that ran through me, and went inside.

The receptionist told me that Leslie didn't want to see me.

"But I'm her husband," I stated forcefully.

"I know, Sir,"  I saw the Security Guard take a step forward.  I guess he expected a scene.  I saw Kate come out of the ER security door.  She saw me and motioned to follow her.

"Leslie won't see me," I said, my eyes searching her for some measure of support.  All I saw was sadness.

Kate explained what little she knew.  Leslie had indicated a desire to hurt herself while talking with Kate earlier in the day.  As a licensed Social Worker, Kate had two options--take her to the ER, or call the Police.  Leslie agreed to go to the hospital.  She was to be admitted to another hospital for observation and treatment.  They'd take her by ambulance--we wouldn't be allowed to go along, or to see her until after the doctors had talked with her.  And that might take a day. 

"She's stable now, and I have her purse," Kate said.

I just stared at the security door as if Leslie would somehow appear and beckon to me.  No matter how hard I wished, it didn't happen.  Other folks went in and out of that door.  There were times when it stayed open for almost a minute.  I strained to see inside for a glimpse of Leslie, to no avail.  And I was still pinned in my seat, unable to move toward the door. 

I jumped as Kate touched my arm.

"Mick, you should go home," she said.  "It's been three hours, and she's not going to see you.  I'll stay until the ambulance takes her to the other hospital," she added. 

I was sure she saw the defeat in my face.  I'd seen some of Leslie's other friends go in.  But not me.  I felt angry, and frustrated, and confused, and sad.  I was lost.  I took Leslie's belongings from Kate and left without saying another word.

* * *

I looked at the eye again hoping it would magnify the contriteness in my heart.  The sinking feeling in my stomach left me with little hope.  Had I screwed things up beyond repair?

After several minutes I heaved a big sigh, and turned toward the elevator.

I heard the door open behind me, and a voice said, "Leslie will see you."

I looked at the nurse, a smile rising to my face.  Perhaps there was hope, maybe just a small ray.  Leslie would see me now.  That was better than twenty-four hours before.  The fear was still there.  But, I had a chance.  Maybe this wasn't just another day after all.

Word Count:  1559