Page 57 of I Know She Was There

“Extended lithium usage can cause impaired memory, poor concentration, twitching, drowsiness, blurred vision, and confusion. I believe your mother, a practicing registered nurse, knew about the side effects—relied on them even, to help you forget what happened in the boat that day.”

My mouth dropped open. “Why are you telling me this now? I was at the psychiatric ward for two years.”

“I just received these medical records,” he said. “This is the first I’m seeing of your chart—and your mother’s. We’d previously been able to dig up your father’s records, as he went to a different physician.” He paused before adding, “I don’t know if you remember, but most of Dr. Gleason’s files were destroyed in a fire at his office in the late nineties. When our office first contacted him, a new doctor was running the practice. He told us what Dr. Gleason revealed to him about the fire ruining nearly all their records before they’d had a chance to enter them in their new computer system. He also mentioned Gleason retired earlier than planned. He was suffering from Alzheimer’s disease.”

I pictured the jovial doctor who’d always been kind to me—sad about his dementia, which was news to me. As was the fire in his office. “If the files burned up, how did you get them?” I looked at the papers resting on the doctor’s lap. “Why aren’t they even charred?”

“They were hand-delivered to our office yesterday, in perfect condition.”

“What?” That seemed impossible. “Who gave them to you?”

“A friend. Someone who’d prefer to tell you about it when the time is right.”

“When the time is...” I rubbed my forehead. “Are you kidding me? Don’t you have a professional obligation to?—”

“I do, but the person left no name with the front desk staff.”

“Then how will I track down?—”

“Caroline, you’re deflecting.”

My eyebrows bunched. “Why do you say that?”

“It’s likely your mother was drugging you—perhaps for years—but you don’t seem interested inthosedetails.”

I felt the sudden urge to cry. Angry tears. Furious tears, just like that day in the boat.

“Was it your mother?” Dr. Ellison asked softly. “Was she pushed out of the boat that day?”

A memory flashed in my mind, mingling with my fury: my own hands, pushing outward, connecting with my mother’s pale arm. I dropped my head, unable to speak. I felt my heartbeat in my ears.

“It’s okay, Caroline. You can tell me what happened. You won’t be in trouble. Did you push your mother out of the rowboat?”

My mouth was dry, making the next swallow painful. I willed the pounding in my ears to stop, the echoing in my head to cease.

“You’re safe now,” said the doctor. “You can tell me.”

“She couldn’t swim,” I whispered, looking back at him, feeling tears washing downward, like someone had turned on a spigot in my head. I opened my mouth to say more, but the words dissolved on my tongue. Gone before I could speak.

“Did you know?”

I shook my head.I hadn’t known that she couldn’t swim, had I?

“I wanted her to stop, to just stop.”

Dr. Ellison’s gaze didn’t waver. “What did you want your mother to stop?”

“Talking, yelling, complaining, all of it. It was endless, you see, endless...”

“What was she saying?”

I closed my eyes, picturing the harsh, angry shapes my mother’s mouth was forming. “She didn’t want to be there, didn’t care that my dad and I had longed for the outing... I don’t know the rest. The same stuff as always. How nothing was ever good enough.”

“So you pushed her out of the rowboat.”

I blinked as the tears increased. My entire face felt wet. My heart hammered so hard I could feel it in my jaw.

“It’s okay, Caroline. You aren’t in trouble. You don’t have to protect yourself or your mother any longer. She’s gone now, and she didn’t look out for you as she should have. For your own sake and your father’s memory, you need to tell the truth.”

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