Hey, I'm sorry I missed you, but I have to tell you I won't be able to make the party tonight. No.

(Uhm)

Yeah, it's my-- I'm so sorry. I know it will be an awesome time. Maybe we can hang out next weekend. Okay. Bye.

---

She is lying down and I am standing above her, holding her hand. The blankets are up to her chin. There is a tiny black vein in her forehead up by the hairline that was never there before, like the leg of a fly. She is looking at me.

"The doctor says I need to go to a psychiatrist."
"Yeah, maybe that's not so bad. It sounds like everything is anxiety-related; they can't find anything actually wrong with you."
"And they've given me these pills. Please don't call them 'Happy Pills'."
"How about 'Attitude Adjustment'?"

She snorts heh!

"What did they give you? You know I was on something for awhile, when I needed it. It was good for awhile."
"And then did you decide you didn't need them anymore?"
"Yup, something like that. After awhile. I needed to take care of it myself. But for awhile it was ba-a-aaad. I couldn't drive. My circcadian rhythms or whatever those things are called were all messed up. I'd be up and walk to the store at 3 in the morning so I could avoid people."
"It sounds perfectly horrible."
"I got to see a lot of cool late night movies with subtitles."
"Was it because of The Minister?"
"It was a few things. It was that, and the end of law school and not knowing what would come next - like walking into a tunnel."
"Huh. Like walking into a tunnel."

---

She is downstairs, delicately eating soup.

"I wonder what happened to The Minister."
"I did a search on the BIPC database once. After he got defrocked, he went back and got another divinity degree and he's now a chaplain for a hospital. In Florida."
"I bet he would be good at that."
"Oh yeah. I don't wish him ill. But I also don't know if I want to see him again. I could probably be civil."

With each sip, she holds the spoon at her mouth before lowering it. I am watching and considering.

"Maybe I should make an attempt to see him at least once more in life. It was quite a shock when I learned about Len."

The spoon pauses.

"Len."
"Yeah. That guy in Philadelphia. The one who tried to kill himself in front of me. I mean, maybe he was eventually successful and I shouldn't have been surprised, but it was a shock when I came across the Obit."

A moment of silence.

"What made you look for that?"
"I don't know. A hunch I guess. We had been writing and then I didn't hear from him. Not in years."

The spoon dips into the soup.

"I suspected as much."
"What do you mean?"
"Well his father contacted us."
"What? Len's father? Len's father contacted you? When was this?"
"I don't know for sure, about ten years ago."
"Mom - ten years ago was when he died. What did he say?"
"You'd have to ask your father."
"I didn't know this - why didn't I know this?"
"It was a tough time, it was all around the same time."
"You can't remember anything about it?"
"I remember it was unpleasant; that's all I remember."

The bowl is empty and she looks up at the clock.

"Ok, mom. That's ok."