Thursday, March 26th, 9:50 AM
Ethan
The rec room was Ethan’s favorite place in Concord House. The large common area had vaulted ceilings, pine wood floors with throw rugs, plush sofas and amenities including book shelves, a grand piano, and a wall-mounted TV. The cozy space even had a gas fireplace in one corner, safely fenced off to avoid injury.
He sat in an alcove by one of the bay windows, which overlooked Belmont’s English garden. A thin layer of ice coated the hedges and flowerbeds, turning into slush on the geometric pathways.
Okay. So it was sleeting in March, but how could anyone not appreciate the beauty? Belmont Springs might not be a sunny beachside retreat for the rich and famous, but it was hardly a dump. What the hell was wrong with Callie’s mother? And what kind of person would judge a hospital by its superficial appearance rather than the quality of care?
He pictured Elin Perrin-Berg, with her Hollywood tan, bleached hair and surgically plumped lips and breasts. The woman was a caricature of beauty, but so far from the real thing. So different from her daughter that it was hard to imagine the two were related.
Poor Callie. What would it be like to grow up with a mother like that?
“This seat taken?”
Ethan glanced up at Sara Jansen, who wore her usual sour expression. Dressed casually in a white, fluffy sweater, she looked even more poodle-like than usual.
He forced a smile. “I’m meeting someone in a few minutes.”
“Who? Callahan Perrin?”
When he didn’t deny it, her mouth gaped open. “No way! I thought she was confined to her room.”
“We’re not supposed to discuss our patients.”
“Yeah, right.” She pulled up an armchair and leaned toward him, face twitching with excitement. “So, we’ve all been wondering. What’s she like?”
“Come on, Sara. You signed the NDA, just like I did.”
“Relax. I’m not asking for the ‘Enquirer.’”
He suppressed a laugh. Little Miss Cutthroat, telling him to relax. “There’s really nothing to tell. She likes her privacy.”
“Guess that’s why her dirty laundry is spread all over the internet. Bet she’s a hot mess. Am I right?”
He bit his lip, wondering why he’d let her sit down.
“Whatever. You’re so lucky. I got assigned to this old schizo woman who smells like moth balls and puke.” She crinkled her nose. “I mean, she hasn’t taken a shower in months. So gross.”
He glanced over Poodle Girl’s shoulder to see Callie approaching. She wore oversized glasses with a scarf covering her hair, but the simple disguise didn’t fool anyone. All eyes followed her as she crossed the room. When she stopped in front of the fireplace, it took Ethan a moment to realize she was waiting for Sara to leave.
“Sorry,” he said, “but could you give us some privacy?”
“Introduce me first?”
“Not today.”
“Fine.” Sara took her time getting up. Then she sauntered across the room, gawking at Callie as she passed.
Callie frowned when she reached him. “Who was that?”
“Sara Jansen.” He puffed out his cheeks. “Not my favorite classmate. She’s a try-hard, even by HMS – um, Harvard Med School – standards. My roommate Larry did his OB-Gyn rotation with her. Said she used to dig up info on his patients, then ask questions during rounds just to try make him look bad.”
Callie removed her glasses. “Were you talking about me?”
Ethan noticed the paranoid edge in her voice. The way she kept glancing around the room. Shit. He moved their chairs into the alcove, positioned to face the bay window. Away from prying eyes.
“Is this okay? Or would you rather go back to your room?”
“Just answer my question.”
“Yes. She asked about you.”
“And what did you tell her?”
“That you like your privacy. Then I tried to ignore her. Then you showed up and I asked her to leave.”
She put a tentative hand on the chairback, like she was debating whether to stay or go.
“I’m sorry, Callie. The last thing I wanted to do was upset you. Especially after that scene with your mother.”
“She’s not my mother.” She dropped into the chair beside him. “E.P-B gave birth to me. That’s all.”
“E.P-B?” He puzzled it out. “Elin Perrin-Berg?”
“Wrong. Try Extra Perky Bitch." She turned her head toward him. “Came up with that nickname in eighth grade. What do you think?”
“That you two have issues.”
She laughed. “You could say that. I hate her guts, and she hates mine. Dad hated her too. So much that he married her twice. Fucking masochist.” Her lips curved into a joyless smile. “Want to know what he used to call her?”
Ethan shifted his chair closer.
“‘Elin the Ice Berg.’ How perfect is that? One of the few things Dad got right. I was ten when we had that little heart-to-heart. Over breakfast in a diner near the Santa Monica Pier. I ate blueberry pancakes. He drank black coffee and snorted coke from a spoon.”
“Your father used in front of you?”
She shrugged. “He was so far gone that I don’t think he realized, but yeah. Don’t look so surprised. Have you ever known an addict?”
Ethan looked away. “Yes.”
“Well, then you understand. Anyway, Elin had taken off by then. Couldn’t deal with Dad’s baggage, which included me. I asked him why she didn’t love us and that’s when he called her ‘Ice Berg.’ Our favorite movie was ‘Titanic.’ We must’ve watched it together a dozen times, so I guess he thought I’d appreciate the metaphor. He said, ‘Don’t be fooled by all that beauty on the surface, Cal. That bitch will rip a hole in your heart and leave you to drown.’”
“He told you that when you were ten?”
“Yup. Right before divorce number one.”
Ethan massaged his temples. This was hard to hear, and he wondered how many people knew about these dark chapters in Callie’s past. How could any child grow up in such an environment without being scarred?
“What happened after the divorce?” he asked. “Who got custody?”
“Elin was too busy with her shitty acting career, which lasted, like, all of six months. She didn’t want me, so I stayed with Dad. He was touring Europe that summer to promote his latest exhibit, so I followed him like a stray dog.”
She touched the windowpane and traced a meandering path with her fingertip. “London. Paris. Lisbon. Barcelona. Milan. I barely saw him. Spent most of my time clinging to Izzy.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. That name hadn’t come up when he skimmed her medical record. “Izzy?”
“Dad’s publicist. Wife number two.” Callie stared out the window, gaze dropping to the frozen garden below. “Maybe one day, I’ll tell you about her.” A tear spilled down her cheek. “My real mom.”
*
“Isabel Carino.” Doctor Grieves looked up from his laptop screen. “Noah Perrin’s second wife. This is good information, Ethan. It dovetails nicely with what we already know. According to her therapist at UCLA, Callie hasn’t talked about her stepmother for five years. Not since her first hospitalization at age sixteen. They had a very close relationship."
Ethan fidgeted in his seat. Telling his team about Callie’s revelation was the right thing to do, but then why did he feel like such a snitch? It didn’t help that Grieves and Choi sat on the other side of a conference table, making this lunchtime meeting feel more like an interrogation.
“Why was she hospitalized?” he asked. “What happened when she was sixteen?”
Grieves glanced at his notes. “She had her first depressive episode. This happened during the spring of her sophomore year at Philips Exeter Academy. She left abruptly and moved to LA to live with her biological mother. I believe you’ve both met Ms. Perrin-Berg.”
Sophie pulled a face. “Textbook BPD. That’s borderline personality disorder, Ethan. Living with that woman would definitely qualify as a stressful environment.”
“After the move to California, she started modeling and acting.” Grieves continued. “Within a few months, she was spotted by a talent agent and her career took off.”
Elin’s influence, no doubt. Ethan couldn’t imagine Callie choosing that lifestyle on her own. “But what about school?” he asked.
“She was home schooled,” Choi replied. “That’s how her artistic talent was discovered and developed. One of her tutors –”
She turned to Grieves and he nodded, giving her permission to continue. “He took a special interest in her and became a mentor. Unfortunately, his interest was also sexual in nature. Callie claimed the relationship was consensual, but of course, it couldn’t be. She was sixteen at the time. He was arrested for statutory rape.”
Ethan clenched his jaw. One more supposed role model who had failed her. Exploitation instead of love. The pattern was clear. But there might have been one exception. One branch point in her life that could have led down a different path.
“Going back to her first hospitalization,” he said. “What happened? I think she was on the right track when she was at Exeter. What caused her to derail?”
Grieves pushed his reading glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. “There’s seldom just one reason. But in this case, there was an acute stressor. The month before Callie left school, her stepmother died from metastatic breast cancer.”
*
On the T ride home, Ethan couldn’t stop thinking about Callie. Not just the Callie he’d gotten to know over the past few days, but all the Callies she’d been before. The little girl who craved the love of a narcissistic mother but kept getting rejected. The tween who idolized a famous father but had to watch him drown in a sea of addiction, bitterness, and despair. The teenager who finally found love only to have it ripped away.
That last tragedy must have cut the deepest. Ethan understood what losing her stepmom must have done to her. He knew the rage. The loss of control. The grieving that came in relentless waves, with troughs of numbness and crests of gut-wrenching pain.
Somewhere in that storm, Callie had broken.
So had he.
He got back to the Longwood Medical Area around dinner time. The clouds were breaking up and the setting sun cast an orange glow across a skyline of hospital towers, research buildings and parking garages. As Ethan walked toward his apartment, a medivac chopper roared overhead, the high-pitched whir of its blades reverberating through canyons of glass and concrete.
The noise barely registered. His mind was stuck on Callie. What had all that fame given her? Millions of fans and still so alone. He pictured her getting into the hotel bathtub where they found her, right after taking the pills. What had she felt at that moment when it was too late to go back? As consciousness slipped away, had she welcomed oblivion or struggled against it in a last fit of panic?
It was a new twist to the question that had haunted him for the past five years. How many sleepless nights had he spent wondering the same thing about Abbie? What had his sister felt as her lungs filled with water? As she sank beneath the waves for the last time? It killed him that he’d never know.
Larry was home as usual, sprawled out on the living room couch watching TV. He scooted to one side and patted the cushion for Ethan to join him.
“You’re just in time!” he announced through a mouthful of popcorn. “Naked and Afraid marathon. Fifth season. This dumbass just ate rotten antelope meat and now he’s puking his guts out. I’m calling explosive diarrhea next.”
Ethan pulled a face. The survivalist show was his roommate’s latest addiction. When did the guy actually work?
“Hey, speaking of reality TV…” Larry paused the episode, then scrolled through the Netflix menu. “I’ve been waiting all afternoon to show you this. Guess what’s trending number one.”
With a flourish, he clicked on the promo graphic for ‘Prodigy,’ season one. “Tada! Ten glorious episodes at our fingertips.”
Two pictures of Callie filled the screen, separated down the middle by a slash of pink paint. On the left side, "Blonde Hottie Callie" was leaning over the side of a swimming pool to wrap her arms around some muscular dude with tribal sleeve tattoos. On the right side, "Brunette Artsy Callie" was busy painting her latest masterpiece. Both Callies were oriented to face each other, the pink slash splitting them like a mirror between parallel universes. Red string bikini and pouty lips on the left. Paint-splattered white jumper and nerdy glasses on the right. Back arched provocatively on the left. Brow furrowed with concentration on the right.
“What the fuck?” Ethan murmured.
Larry gave him a sideways grin. “Exactly. Wait ‘til you see the first episode.”
The trailer automatically started with Callie’s cheerful voice-over: “My life… it’s kinda complicated…”
A scene of her on a rollercoaster, screaming “OmigodOmigodOmigod!” with her girlfriends as their car whipped through a series of loops and hairpin turns. Then cutting to a clip of her flinging colorful splatters of paint onto the canvas, Jackson Pollock style. Then to the beach, Callie rising on her tiptoes to kiss Tattoo Guy as the surf washed over their ankles.
“... but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Wild art…” – She giggled and winked at the camera – “Wilder life.”
The screen froze again, prompting them to start episode one.
Larry turned to him, slack jawed. “We’re totally binge watching this, right?”
“Wrong.” Ethan got up from the couch and headed for his bedroom. “Knock yourself out. I’ve gotta call Jess about this weekend.”
“Wait up! So, you’re not even curious? I mean, you’ve spent the past week with this girl. Don’t you wanna know what she was like before?”
Ethan shook his head. “Not really. Besides, I told you. I’ve never met her.”
“Right. You’re a terrible liar, dude. Brett Sorgen texted me earlier. Said “Miss OmigodOmigodOmigod!” is your only patient and you’ve been spending hours with her every day.”
“Sorgen’s full of shit. He isn’t even assigned to our ward.”
“Okay, but Sara Jansen is. Word’s out, man. It’s all over HMS.”
Ethan crossed his arms. “Do you understand the concept of a non-disclosure agreement?”
Larry nodded, looking like a kid who had just been busted stealing candy from the corner store. “Yeah. Sorry, E. I get what you’re saying. I’ll drop it.”
“Thanks. I’m not trying to be a dick, but she deserves her privacy.”
“You’re right, but she’s not going to get it.” Larry turned off the TV screen, his expression becoming serious. “Someone at Belmont doesn’t share your ethics, man.”
Ethan frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, someone just leaked to the gossip sites, big time. This evening, Prime Dirt teased that they have exclusive details about Callahan Perrin’s suicide attempt and life inside Belmont. They’re releasing the story sometime this weekend.”
Ethan ground his teeth. Did Sara know enough details about Callie’s hospitalization to interest a tabloid rag like Prime Dirt? He didn’t think so.
“That’s just clickbait,” he said. “Repackaging the same old crap to grab more eyes.”
Larry gave him a skeptical look. “You sure about that? There’s a huge bounty on that girl’s head. Sooner or later, someone’s gonna cash in.”
***
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Nary a thing to nit in this chapter!
Love the conversation between Callie and Ethan. And, I love Ethan's ethics. He seems like a good guy. With his past, he can identify with Callie's problems and that helps.
I'll be back for more soon. I feel like I'm not helping you much...because you don't need help.
~Ann
Hi Ann!
Thanks as always for your wonderful words of encouragement. You help me a ton, and one of the reasons you aren't finding as many nits as you used to is that you've taught me so much over the years. No unnecessary thats. Cutting down on repeat words. Etc... That said, some chapters will definitely be rougher going forward.
Take care, and I hope the weather in Texas is as beautiful as it is here in CT this weekend :)
This was another good story with great detail and some characterizations that are very realistic. The paparazzi TV show was a nice angle, and very true. Tabloid TV turns even supposed reliable people into snitches. Now it becomes a question of who is the rat? My money is on Sara Jansen, but that might be too obvious.
Good story!
Your best chapter so far.
There's a lot of emotional impact without being forced or over the top. The conversations are great, the reactions are believable. Starting with Callie being paranoid about what Ethan told his classmate (I really hope this doesn't come back to bite him with the leak to Prime Dirt - it's wonderful that Callie trusts Ethan and is opening up to him!).
I'm really invested in the characters as the reader. Ethan is so warm and empathetic - he's really missing his calling here by moving to Plastics! And Callie, most of all, is wonderfully complex with such a tragic past.
"That last tragedy must have cut the deepest. Ethan understood what losing her stepmom must have done to her. He knew the rage. The loss of control. The grieving that came in relentless waves, with troughs of numbness and crests of gut-wrenching pain.
Somewhere in that storm, Callie had broken.
So had he."
This whole passage was beautifully written.
Great job overall! Looking forward to next.
Thanks for the feedback. I'm really glad you enjoyed this chapter, and your reaction is especially encouraging since the Callie-Ethan relationship is at the heart of this story. As I'm sure you've figured out, they're both kind of messed up; even though Callie's issues are more out there, Ethan is also damaged but much better at hiding it and in a bit of denial.
This chapter comes right after "EP-B," where I introduce Callie's mom Elin. Didn't see a review on that chapter (not that you need to leave one!), but it might get confusing when I talk about Callie's mother later if you accidentally skipped over that chapter.
Thanks!
Gray
Hello, Gray. Calie's been some hell, that's for sure. Some might try to say she's weak and that she can't the vicissitudes of life. What happened to her was a lot more than life's seasons of testing and trials.
Good that she shared all that with Ethan.
Her biological mother ought to be under the care of Choi and Grieves. Than too, they'd probably find a lot of excuses to not take on Extra Perky's problems.
Larry and Sara ought to get together. PG or not, they have the same personalities, it seems.
Interesting chapter, Gray.
CHEERS!!
Mike
Ann Everett