Page 167 of The Housekeeper

Chapter Sixty-five

Not much changedduring the next two weeks. I kept busy working. Harrison was busy teaching. We alternated driving the kids to and from camp. We ate dinner together every evening. We took great pains to be civil, rarely addressing each other directly. Harrison was still sleeping on the couch.

Tracy and I took turns dropping by our father’s house without prior notice, although such visits quickly lost the element of surprise. We’d pull into the driveway to find Elyse waiting at the door, and our father either sleeping, just waking up, or about to lie down. Elyse never left his side, making her the proverbial thorn in ours.

Our father was, by turns, silent, confused, sullen, and most alarming of all, docile. He had moments of lucidity, but they were increasingly few and far between. Had anything I’d said gotten through to him at all?

“When was the last time you saw a doctor?” I asked him during one such visit.

“Your father had a complete physical just last month,” Elyse answered. “He got a clean bill of health. The doctor said that he’s in excellent shape for a man his age.”

“Really? Dr. Abramson said everything was okay?”

My father said nothing. The blank look in his eyes said he had no idea.

“Your father is seeing Bryce Carter now,” Elyse said.

“Who the hell is Bryce Carter?”

“He’smydoctor. We saw no point in seeing two different people and having to make two separate trips.”

I struggled to digest this latest piece of information. “But you’ve been going to Dr. Abramson for years,” I told my father. “He knows your background, your history. I’m not sure that switching doctors at this stage is such a good idea.”

“Nobody asked you,” he replied testily.

“But—”

“End of discussion.”

Elyse smiled. “You needn’t worry so much, Jodi. Your father is all grown up and quite capable of making his own decisions.”

“This seems to be moreyourdecision than his.”

“Nonsense. Vic is very much his own man. Aren’t you, darling?”

“Damn right.”

Even in his diminished state, it was obvious that my father hated his authority being questioned. It was also obvious that Elyse knew just how to play him.

“Now, don’t go getting yourself all agitated,” she told him. “I’m sure that Jodi means well. I think you should probably go now,” she whispered between barely parted lips. In the next minute, she was leading me to the door. “But, of course, feel free to stop by anytime.”

As soon as I got home, mindful of Tracy’s earlier chiding, I googled Dr. Bryce Carter.

Amazingly, there were two Bryce Carters in the Toronto area. One was a chartered accountant, which ruled him out. The other was a self-described “wellness practitioner.” Not exactly a medical doctor, I thought, deciding that regardless, there was no point challenging Elyse on the subject. Instead, I made a note ofit in the journal I’d started keeping. Would this qualify as evidence? I wondered.

Evidence of what?

A few days later, I was at the office when the receptionist poked her head in my door. “Sorry to bother you,” she began. “But there’s a man calling, demanding to speak to you. He won’t give his name, but he’s very insistent. I didn’t know whether to put him through.”

“Put him through,” I directed, lifting the phone gingerly to my ear.

I recognized the sound of my father’s ragged breathing immediately. “Dad, is that you? What’s wrong?”

“You have to do something,” he whispered.

“Do something about what?”

“She’s insisting I sign the papers. She says that if I don’t sign them, she’ll leave me. I’ll be all alone.”