Free Worse Than Being Alone by Patricia M. Clark Page B

devastating. Her survival depends on
whether she can avoid complications, if she can fight off the
inevitable pneumonia and possible kidney failure. Tell me about her
family.”
    “ There’s an ex husband and four
kids.” Barbara said. “It’s obvious the kids have no use for the ex.
I’m not sure why. The oldest is a daughter, Meadow, who is in law
school and constantly reminds us she’s watching us closely. She’s a
handful. The others are a lot younger. I get the feeling Meadow had
to grow up in a hurry. I told her you were coming and she had a lot
of questions. I’m not sure she’s going to be very receptive to your
involvement.”
    “ Ah. Well, she wouldn’t be the
first. Is she here now?”
    “ She’s probably in the waiting
room,” Barbara said. “She comes in between classes and studies in
there during the day. Then she brings the kids out late in the
afternoon for a visit and then they all go home. She has power of
attorney for her mom. At this point, the ex is not allowed in to
see Beverly. Come on, I’ll go with you and introduce
you.”
    “ Thanks, Barbara,” I said as we
left the unit and went across the hall to the waiting
room.
    I spotted Meadow Knull as soon as we entered the
room. It wasn’t because I’m smart or intuitive; she had her nose
stuck in a book with Criminal Law plastered on the cover. My first
impression was that Meadow Knull was very attractive but did
everything possible to cover it up, as if she thought the world
wouldn’t take her seriously if she happened to be beautiful. It
seemed like a bad omen, and I wasn’t disappointed at how our first
encounter unfolded.
    Barbara made a quick introduction and escaped.
Meadow and I shook hands and she squeezed mine extra hard to let me
know who was going to be top dog. I was convinced at that point my
involvement would be limited to reviewing records.
    “ Our ex-minister was named Talty?”
she asked. “Any relation?”
    “ You mean James Talty?”
    “ Yes, that was his name,” she
said. “We quit going to that Church because he’s an alcoholic. I
can spot them a mile away.”
    “ I guess we have that in common.
He’s my ex-husband.”
    “ I know your job is to save money
and send people back to work,” Meadow said, the challenge in her
voice unmistakable.
    “ I don’t look at it that way. I
think my job is to make sure people get the best care possible.
Then they get better faster and go back to work sooner. In this
situation, I try to help the adjuster understand the medical
implications so she can set reserves. If you hadn’t hung up on her
she would have explained all that to you.”
    “ Why should I trust you?” she
asked.
    I handed her my business card and said. “It’s not
something I can talk you into to. You’ll have to trust your gut or
whatever name you call it. The bottom line is that I’m not going to
hurt you or your mother. So, if you want to talk, just call my
cell. The adjuster wanted me to ask you where you wanted her to
send the checks?”
    “ Oh, tell her not to send them to
the house,” Meadow said. “My father might try to steal them. Do you
have another card I could write the address on?”
    I handed her another card and a pen. She scribbled
the address, looked at me with the saddest blue eyes I had ever
seen, and placed the card and pen back in my hand. Then she did the
last possible thing I expected; Meadow started sobbing
uncontrollably.
    Meadow Knull was about as tightly
wound as anyone I had ever met. I rejected my initial response,
which would have been to touch her arm to convey some sort of
reassurance. I was convinced she was probably into kickboxing or
martial arts. I was afraid to touch her for fear she would
seriously kick my ass. The harder she tried to stop the tears from
flowing the worse the deluge became.
    I reached in my bag, handed her a Kleenex, and said.
“It must be hard to have to be in control every single minute of
every day.”
    “ You have no idea,” she