Justice and Mercy: The Oldest Joke in Psychiatry: Justice and Mercy, #2

By Carol Menges

"Oh, oh," Marianne breathed.

"What?"

"Nobody crosses him and gets away with it!"

Rebecca stared in shock. "What are you talking about?"

Slowly, very deliberately, Marianne said, "You have made a very powerful enemy!"

Rebecca's adversaries surface relentlessly, in supposedly safe havens. Driven by the myth that forgiving must include forgetting, Rebecca teeters at the edge of an ever-darkening abyss of hell on earth. Who brings the greater danger? Or is it something else entirely? Haunting her and Michael in entirely different ways, the deck is stacked against their finding peace together, her deep faith notwithstanding. Even while off on their own in another fresh start, they can't escape the one who warned, "I can find anybody anywhere!"

Part 2 of the Justice and Mercy series tries to find the answer while new questions intrude. The greatest danger is inescapable because, after all, it's The Oldest Joke in Psychiatry.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Song Arising Publications
• Release date: Nov 2, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386391913

Carol Menges

Carol Menges spent most of her professional career in the Greater Seattle area as a musician, teaching all ages and levels of students piano, organ, choral conducting, choral technique and composition. After graduate school in choral conducting, she became an off-campus instructor for Western Washington University (Bellingham, Washington, USA), offering WWU credit for music history and theory. She organized choral performance ensembles Marysville Musicale, Puget Sound Children's Chorus (with Judith Nielsen), Marysville Mormon Children's Choir, and Song Arising, plus music festivals for adult singers, music teachers and children. She now lives in Boise, Idaho, USA.

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Prologue

IS THIS REALLY GOING to work?  While driving south on I-15 that late April morning in 2001, Rebecca's thoughts bounced around in her head, taking her back to places she didn't want to go.  It was wonderful to have Michael's decisive enthusiasm—finally—for the relocation they'd planned and prepared for many months.  The on-again, off-again nature of that enthusiasm though made her wonder how committed her husband would remain.  Her car was packed with what they each needed for their trip from Markston, Washington, the Seattle suburb where they'd raised their family to adulthood.  Moving to Salt Lake City was a leap of faith she hoped he truly shared as much as he lately claimed.  "I can't think about that now.  We're here together at last.  Eight months and he's finally here!  That's gotta be the deal I hang onto."

She remembered her last visit to her real estate agent to pay the rent.  He, of course, wanted to close the deal on the condo as soon as possible.  With the housing market so slow, he'd been able to work a deal where she was now renting to own for an indefinite period.  He'd asked how things were going for her husband, whether he was coming soon to join her there.  She'd explained that she hoped he was, but she didn't know for sure.  She didn't really know what his plans were.  The agent then gave advice that worried her, that she should take half the money they owned together from their joint accounts, deposit it into a private account and buy her home.  She'd recoiled and said she could never do that!  It would seem so cheap, so utterly lacking in integrity.  He'd countered that it's the best way for women in her fluctuating position to protect themselves against husbands who could cut them out of what rightfully belonged to them both.  She'd responded that even though she'd heard other women were doing it, she could not.

Since that moment, she hoped she'd made the right choice.  Considering her upbringing and the church's teachings as she knew them, it felt right to be honorable, no matter what Michael did in return.

And there they both were, together again and happy, reinventing their life.

He was behind her in the yellow Budget Rental truck, favorably taking in the unfamiliar surroundings.  His smile was infectious to her.  It always had been.  So she relaxed again and put aside the horrors of the past few years.  Trust in key old friends she knew in Markston no longer existed.  She'd been a fool to have thought the relationships were as innocent and good as she'd once imagined.

"This is Utah.  New territory, for us at least.  The ward here is welcoming and mostly full of decent types who seem to genuinely like having me as a new member.  They'll love Michael.  Everyone invariably does.  Our condo is pretty inside and in a perfect neighborhood—or, pretty near perfect."  She grinned to remember there's one cranky neighbor she'd have to tell Michael about.  "Tonight.  It'll make a good date-night joke.  Oh, how I love this beautiful place!  It's been so good to me!  It'll be good for both of us.  A fresh start is what we've needed."

She cranked up the volume on her CD player.  Graceland accompanied her on her way.  She stopped singing along while passing Bountiful so she could concentrate on the crowded, curvy freeway and keep Michael within her sight line.  She was sure he'd have a little trouble otherwise.  Negotiating the quick freeway off ramp they needed was a bit tricky for newcomers.  If he missed it, driving through the city up from the south into The Avenues would likely make him a little nuts.  "Thank you, Father, for your goodness in getting us back together.  Please help us grow closer again.  Help me to notice the best things about Michael and not obsess about the past.  We can do this!  With your help, I know we can."

Chapter 1

'STEEP DRIVEWAY, Michael thought as he geared the truck down and maneuvered the tight turn from the two lane street towards the right side of their condominium midway up the mountain.

His wife waved her arms to stop him as she came down to the curb.  Wait here a minute, all right?  Rebecca approached the driver's side window and added, I'll walk up and guide you around that corner I told you about.  It's just beyond the first floor's parking garage.  You won't want to stop on this slope up to the back of the building if someone approaches all of a sudden.  I'll make sure no one's coming.

Okay.

They'd been driving since before sun up from Idaho, Rebecca in Michael's car and Michael in the truck.  It was now mid-morning and they wanted to get all the unloading done before night fall in order to turn the truck in to the agency the next day.  She walked up the lane, past the grassy area with two leafy trees and cement stairs leading to the front entrance.  The building definitely didn't fit into the scheme of the neighborhood.  Each of the older and well maintained homes on both sides of the street were distinctive and unique, suggesting a sense of resolute quaintness.  Rather than design the newer structure in conjunction with its neighbors, the yellow stone beaded walls between concrete and gray balcony balustrades claimed space in a way that was quite out of place.  It was five stories high with wrap-around balconies for the corner condominiums from the second floor up, plus those in the middle.  Rebecca and Michael's second-floor unit didn't have a balcony.  It was situated on the east and southern sides.  Rebecca passed by it and on up to the next level out back.  The open carport was just beyond the wide area where their truck could sit for the day's unpacking.

One car was ready to head out towards her and she quickly signaled as she ran up to it.  My husband's got a pretty big truck.  I'm sorry but he's already in the drive at the street level.

The man inside responded, You want me to go down on the west ramp?

Yes, please.

Sure.

Rebecca hadn't seen him before.  'Must be a visitor, she thought.  As he made his turn around, she went back to where Michael could see her and waved him up.

He parked close to the building, just beyond the glass double doorway, then climbed down to the asphalt.  Let's go inside before I open up the back.

Great.  You can see the layout.  One thing first, though.  I need to pick up the mail downstairs.  The mailman gets really grouchy if it's left in the box overnight.

You're kidding.

Nope.  He doesn't like stuffing new mail on top of whatever's still in there.

You put a stop on it at the post office until we'd get back here, didn't you?

Yeah, but we left a day later than expected so today's mail might already be there.  I don't want to get another lecture.

"Lecture?"

Yeah.  Welcome to Salt Lake.  She laughed.  It's a new world here, for sure.  Use your purple key.  It's the one that gets you into the building, front or back, and in from the parking garage too.

He opened the door and they walked in to the hallway.  This is really nice!  He smiled.

Rebecca began a quick tour.  Let's take the elevator instead of the stairs.  I'm tired already and we haven't even started unloading.  With chronic fatigue and fibromyalgia both, I love the elevator!  I opt for that all the time.  It's worth the wait.

The first floor had plush gold carpet and upholstered furniture.  What looked like gold leaf covered the lower walls up to painted scenes of the Mediterranean.  Over here is the front entrance.  Looks like a living room, doesn't it?

Yeah.  Do people wait down here or what?

I don't know, actually.  We have to ring people in while they're standing outside at the front, so I don't know what all this is for except show.  Or maybe when someone wants a meeting but not inside his apartment.  Here's the alcove for the mail.  We can leave outgoing things on this sideboard if we want.  I take mine down to the post office instead.  It's not far.  She pulled a couple of fliers out of the wall box.  Do you want to see the hot tub and shower downstairs?  How about the view from the roof?

Let's do that later.  I'd like to see our place and then get things out of the truck.

OK.  She walked beside Michael to the elevator.  He punched floor 2.  That brought them to the back entrance hallway they'd first entered.  Off to the left here is another unit.  I've never seen who lives there.  Ours is between it and Sue's.  She's on the right, around that corner.  Rebecca found her front door key and let them both into the small foyer.  She hung up a sweater in the closet.  The kitchen was directly to the left, a straight shot that led to the dining room.  You can't bang anything down on this stove.  It's an older version of glass top.  It's been fine to use but it made me a little nervous at first to know I had to be a little careful with it.  You'll get used to it after a while.

The dining room already contained a small table and chair set she'd bought for a starter apartment when she'd first moved to Salt Lake eight months ago.  It was open to the large living room.  On such a sunny, warm day, bright light shone through the east and southern windows.

I think there's plenty of space for what we've kept, Michael said approvingly.

"We still have a lot of stuff.  But there's tons of closet space, besides the downstairs storage room.  Nothing's in there now.  I figured we'd put in that everything we don't want to access all the time.  What do you think?"

Sounds good.  Bedrooms are down this hall, I take it?

Yeah.  Here's the smaller one.  It can be our guest room and office.  This whole hallway wall is floor-to-ceiling cabinets.  You can see there's almost nothing in them yet.  I just can't believe how great this place is for storage!  The main bathroom with the tub is in the corner just beyond.  They walked inside.  Really large.  And the master bedroom, she led him into it, has its own bath with shower stall, over here in the corner.  Indirect sun from the southern view window felt like a 'welcome back home' greeting to Rebecca.

Michael was obviously impressed and happy with the winter white interior to match off-white Berber wall-to-wall carpet with small blue and red dots.  It was all bright and happy looking.  I tell you what.  Let's get everything unloaded.  We'll go grab lunch out somewhere before unpacking the boxes or moving anything down to the storage room.

Sounds good.  At the back entrance, Rebecca said, "We're allowed to leave this door propped open when loading and unloading, and only then.  How about a few crates of books?  It's a really heavy door and it closes automatically."

Michael tossed up the sliding door to the back of the van and found one particularly heavy box.  The door threatened to crush it, but seemed to accept the authority when a second box was added to the mix.

They made several trips from the truck into their apartment before Sue appeared at the foyer.

I see you made it!

Sue!  Hi!  Yeah, we did.  Michael, come here a minute.  I want you to meet our neighbor.

Michael rounded the corner of the kitchen.  I've heard a lot about you.

Good stuff, I hope!

Nothing but, Michael smiled.

Sue went on, I'm not into heavy lifting, but if you need any help, we can probably get a couple of priesthood guys over.

He said, I think we'll be fine, thanks.  There  are only a  few heavy things and the two of us got them into the truck alone, for the most part.

Rebecca said, You forget that John spent his whole day getting most of the stuff in before you came home from work.  We probably need a little help.

Sue said, I'll call Bishop Skelley and let him know you're in town.  He'll want to send over the high priest group leader, at the very least.  They've been expecting you anyway, waiting for a call.

Rebecca sighed with relief.  That's great!  Thanks Sue!

It's what neighbors are for!  And she left.

Just like that?  Michael asked.

Just like that, Rebecca replied.  You're going to love this ward!

So you've said.  He gave her a kiss and they went back to work.

EVERYTHING WAS INSIDE, thanks to several men showing up to make the work light.  It had gone quickly enough that Rebecca still had enough energy left to suggest a date night out.  She pointed the way into the parking lot of a busy, colorful place with round white lights strung everywhere.  This is a terrific ice cream parlor.  It's like the old-fashioned one Mom used to take me to at the Farmer's Market.  Rebecca swiped at a stray wisp of damp hair.  The evening heat felt good through the open window.

Michael maneuvered into one of the only empty stalls left.  It's a popular spot, I see.

Friday night.  This is date-night city.

OVER A COUPLE OF ICE cream floats piled-high with whipped cream, they watched the traffic and steady stream of customers.  We have one mysterious neighbor, she began.  Sue thinks she knows who it is, somebody in a house across the street.  A cranky lady who keeps track of everybody.

Cranky lady, huh?

Yup.  Rebecca laughed.  I told you about the day that made the national evening news, the one where we got dumped on with tons of snow.  I was down in Provo—it's about forty miles south—visiting old buddies Jeff and Laurie...

How are they doin'?  I'd like to see them again.

They're fine.  They'd like to see you too.  Anyway, the snow was really starting to come down when Jeff said I oughta probably get back home as quick as I could.

Any trouble?

Well, not at first.  She stifled a laugh.  But there were trucks off the side of the freeway, just sitting there.  Lots of cars in accidents, some spun backwards.  I got really scared cuz the traffic doesn't slow down around here no matter what.  At least hardly anybody does.  She took another sip and added, I made it clear in to Salt Lake and got through the intersections and all, praying I could be calm, when I finally realized I hadn't even started on the worst part of the drive.

The Avenues, right?

Yup!  Another sip.  Man, that was crazy!  I'm so glad to have snow-studded tires but I'd never had to test them in weather quite like that!

Michael countered,  You've been on lots of snowy roads before.

This was definitely different.  It was thick snow and getting thicker by the minute.  I almost couldn't see.  The wipers could barely keep up!

He sat forward and smiled, because she'd obviously survived the experience.  He was enjoying the exchange.  It had been a long time since they'd been together having fun.

I couldn't get over how people were driving, not changing their habits.  It's what they do here no matter what the conditions are—but of course they're used to it.  Even so, all those accidents!  The radio kept broadcasting warnings for people to stay home if they didn't have a darned good reason to go out.  And there I was, a newbie in the neighborhood, trying to unclench my white knuckles from the steering wheel.  'Breathe slow!  Relax!'  Anyway, I was lucky to remember another way to get home that doesn't have quite the full impact of steep hill that I usually use.  But even so, we're halfway up.  Praying like mad, doing my best to loosen my grip...

He snickered.

...I managed to get to our street.  And I realized how lucky I was to make it that far!  Nobody but nobody was out driving at that point—smart!  But fortunately for me, I didn't even have time to think about that final stretch...

The driveway...  He smiled widely.

The driveway!  Pretty much straight up.  She shook her head.  I was in no way ready to try that!  I knew it isn't supposed to be done but I hoped I could get away with it under the circumstances, just until morning."

What did you do?

I couldn't face driving more than I had to so I pulled over to the north sidewalk right out front.

Can't we do that?  He shook his head, waiting to take in another Salt Lake-ism.

Oh yeah, but not when you're headed in the wrong direction.

He laughed.  So what happened?

"Nothing, at first.  I just couldn't face going up the drive!  I parked, got out and slopped through the deep snow, staggering to the steps out front.  I clung to the hand railing along the walk up to the front door.  Boy, it was slippery!  The railing and the steps!  I thought I was going to fall a couple of times cuz I didn't have my snow boots.  I was completely soaked through when I got inside.  Man, I was just thankful I got home!  I turned on the TV and heard that even emergency vehicles weren't getting into the hills that evening.  Just crazy!"

Quite an adventure!

Oh it gets worse.

He waited.

Of course, the next day after the snow plow did the street and the manager used his little one on the drive—only one side—I moved the car up to the garage.  Everything seemed fine then.  But about three days later I got a notice in the mail from the police department that I had a $20.00 fine for parking on the wrong side of the street.

You're serious?

"Yup.  I couldn't believe anybody was out patrolling up there under the circumstances.  I mean, cops were needed everywhere else—you wouldn't believe the news casts!  There weren't enough of them to do small stuff jobs like traffic tickets with all the accidents everywhere."

Some patrol car must have seen you.

Not according to Sue.  She says there's a lady across the street with binoculars and nothing else to do but keep track of us all from her living room window.  Sue believes she called in my infraction to the cops.  Rebecca sat back and finished, I figured that was my 'Welcome to Salt Lake, Mrs. Kellam' moment.  Michael laughed out loud and she thoroughly enjoyed it.

SHE STRETCHED LUXURIOUSLY while waking up the next morning.  It was such an unfamiliar feeling, this calm relaxation.  Michael was up and dressed, sitting at her computer checking e-mail.  The sun was out already.

While trying to get a bearing on what was different, she said, Good morning, Hon.  What time is it?

About eight-thirty.

No!  Really?!  She drew in a quick breath.  "I never sleep that long!  Turning to her alarm clock she saw that, for sure, it was 8:35.  Michael!  I've been asleep the whole night!  I didn't wake up once!"

Do you feel good?  He shut down the computer and walked over to her.  Giving her a tight hug, he said, Maybe you were just so tired after all the work yesterday.

No, that wouldn't have done it.  It would have made trying to sleep worse.  Blinking at the brightly lit room she said, I always wake up every two or three hours, and I never feel like I've been really asleep.  She thought a minute and then brightened.  This is what's supposed to happen when the human growth hormone shots finally kick in.  I wonder...  She climbed out of bed.  "I feel really good!  She opened the blinds further.  Nothing hurts!  You know, I'm going to try something.  She poked at key pressure points and muscle groups, and couldn't get over how great she felt.  I have an application for a gas card that I want to take in to the station today.  It's a mile from here.  You know, I think I'm going to walk there and back!"

Wow!  You really think you could?

It'll be a perfect test to see if I'm in that remission I was promised.

It was a very warm morning but the walk down the hill and east to the gas station felt liberating in a way she hadn't known in years.  The real test, though, was if she could walk back home in the increasing heat up the long hill.

Driving in the neighborhood didn't give her much opportunity to examine details of architecture that were so interesting.  While walking along the sidewalk from one large block to another, she finally was able to take them all in.  It was almost more than she could do to hold back grateful tears.  She was in remission!  Just like she'd been promised would happen one day, all of a sudden.  As long as she'd keep injecting the daily dose, her body would stay healed and her energy would remain restored.

THE NEXT MORNING THE two walked down the hill for church.  Michael loved the old dark brick building.  The parking lot wasn't large enough for the whole ward, so many people walked if they could.  Sue met them at the door where she was dropped off by another neighbor lady who went to park along the street.  It was a vintage two-story building.  Noisy shoes pounded the wooden floor above where the Primary children and their teachers met.  There were more teachers and staff than children, a fact that pleasantly surprised Rebecca when she'd first heard.  The bishopric wanted those five students to have the benefit of the full program run as it should be, regardless of their numbers.

The chapel floor sloped towards the front and had a choir loft at the back.  The room wasn't fully filled with people, but it wasn't sparse either.  Some families who geographically belonged to the ward chose to attend an adjacent one that had plenty of youth and children.  It was said their parents thought their sons and daughters needed the influence of a ward full of people their own age.  They didn't trust that they could be positively supported within a smaller group, especially one that would allow each to stand out by necessity.

Michael liked the friendliness and spiritual strength of the young husband and wife team teachers in the gospel doctrine class Rebecca chose to attend.  From the first she'd been amazed at how prepared they were, almost like using a script between them; and yet there was plenty of time for interaction from attendees too.  It was the smaller of two classes.  Each had a loyal following.

When the three-hour block of meetings were over, Sister Skelley conducted the choir rehearsal in a room behind the podium.  She'd sung with the Tabernacle Choir for many years.  Her gestures were enthusiastic and expansive.  There were two accompanists:  one for rehearsals at the piano, and the other for performances with the organ in the chapel.  The organist had been the Church Music Director for years under Elder Boyd K. Packer.  Rebecca remembered him from Workshops on Church Music she'd attended at BYU.

The ward choir was getting ready for presentations for both Mother's Day and the Fourth of July.  The singers sat on metal chairs in two slightly curved lines on the wooden floor with the piano to their right.  Rebecca was glad to notice how very much at home Michael felt among them and the men he was getting to know in Priesthood meetings.

On the way back home, hand in hand, Michael carried her scriptures like he had her high school books long ago.  He was at ease in the new area and it warmed Rebecca's heart.  There was something renewing about this time together.  She wanted it to last forever.

BUT OVER THE NEXT COUPLE of weeks, Michael's job search became discouraging.  Various employment agencies had nothing available for him.  Then he got a call.  There was a huge vehicle wholesaler down in the valley flats, a middle-man operation, for sales to owners of lots elsewhere.  Unsold cars from regular dealerships all over the Mountain West came and went, needing to be cleaned up and redelivered to whatever next lot was on the agenda.  It was strange to the Kellams to discover how the car business worked, that they all eventually traded vehicles between each other through the middle-man.  Those that didn't sell quickly enough in one place were shipped to this central point before going on to try getting sold somewhere else.  Brokers came to choose the ones they wanted to have shipped to them, bidding on what was available.

Michael got a minimum wage part-time job there.  He hoped a better position would come soon but at least he was working three or four days a week.  Most of the employees were in their twenties or early thirties—significantly younger than Michael.  The only woman was the boss' wife in the office.  She gruffly handed out written orders to the workers she summoned by loudspeaker and barked for the men to run immediately to deliver them.  Everybody did, dashing over the bright white, shimmering pavement, under intense heat and in any other weather notwithstanding.  Everyone did except Michael.  He made it clear to her he wasn't running anywhere but he'd get the messages where they needed to go.  She was shocked that he dared to defy her.

It's blazing hot out there and I'm obviously not a kid.  I'll deliver messages but not on the run.  He expected some kind of push back but nothing really happened.  Especially nothing in the way of expanded work hours.

Washing cars was a big part of the job, as well as helping set up for the days when brokers came to bid on what they wanted next.  Many buyers from lots along the Wasatch Front got their choices delivered.  That meant Michael was tightly packed into a small van for hours against the younger, sweaty men, following behind the transport trucks.  That was pretty much the extent of his work.  He didn't like it.

IN THE BACKYARD OF their old friends who'd moved to Orem from Markston years before, Jeff listened to Michael's job search frustration.

I hate to say it but it's typical how things go around here, Jeff said.  Employment's usually tied to who you know.  So many are looking for work all the time.  Lots of university students.  They're the first consideration.  Unless you have family here it can be tough.

Michael twisted his glass on the patio table.

Laurie opened together the screen and sliding glass doors, carrying a tray of sandwiches.  Rebecca followed behind.  Laurie said, It's getting pretty hot out here.  Do you two want to go inside?  The umbrella isn't covering the whole table anymore.

Jeff replied, Let's stay out here through lunch.  If you're all OK with that.  They each murmured it was fine.  Constant air-conditioning gets old.

You work in an air-conditioned office, Michael grinned.

Well—hey, I'm sorry!  We can go in now, Jeff came back.  Sometimes the heat feels good to me, but I forgot you guys aren't used to it yet.

Rebecca said, I always loved the hot summer weeks I spent here in the music workshops and genealogy conferences.  When I got sick, though, it got hard to take, overnight.

Laurie asked, And now?

"Remission reset my body temperature!  I like the heat again.  She smiled broadly.  'Feelin' good whether it's hot or cold.  I just can't get over it!"

Laurie continued, 'So glad you're doing well!

Michael said,  She used to melt to the floor at church like a candle at the drop of a hat.  They laughed.

Then let's eat.  Laurie took a seat.  So, tell me, Michael, how do you like living down here?

It's a great place.  But no work.

Jeff looked at Laurie.  I told him I checked around.  I didn't have much hope of finding anything but I asked everybody I knew if they needed someone.

Thanks, Michael answered.  We'll be all right for quite a while but I'd still like to get a permanent position soon.

Right, Jeff said.  At least you're not squeezed up against a deadline.

Laurie nodded.  It took us several months when we moved here.  Those were lean times.

Jeff added, But we got our jobs through the university.  Candidates with degrees, or students working towards one, are usually first on the list for consideration.  Without that there isn't much open except sporadic or seasonal jobs that don't pay well.  And a lot of those go to immigrants because they often aren't qualified for anything else.

Rebecca jumped in quickly, You were students when you first moved down, right?

Laurie replied, Jeff was.  I stayed home with the kids and later got hired through a mutual friend of his boss.

They sat quietly a minute.  Rebecca watched a bird fly out from its hiding place in the leafy old tree close to the fence line.  She studied the sandwich in her hand, looked up and asked, What do you honestly think of our possibilities?

Jeff shrugged but said, Something's got to turn up eventually.  Maybe the Olympics this winter will spark an offer—if nothing comes sooner.

Laurie noted Michael's mood and added, It took us a long time.  It sure seemed like that to us then.  Most people who wait out the dry periods ultimately get decent jobs.  You start to meet people and they help any way they can to get the word out.

Michael smiled wanly.

Then I'm glad we have the means to wait it out, Rebecca said.  Of course, our real estate agent would like to close the deal.  We're lucky the housing market hasn't been good lately or we wouldn't have such a great place to live, especially with the deal the agent got for us from the owner.

How long is it until you have to buy the condo outright? Jeff asked.

Michael answered, All the time it takes.  There isn't a limit while we're paying the rent.

Rebecca added, And all the rent goes towards the sale price.

That's lucky! Laurie chimed.

Rebecca nodded.  We've had a lot of luck.  She changed the subject.  Do you remember the Redmans?

Sure,  Laurie said.  They had all the ward parties when everybody was young.  How are they doing?

Rebecca answered, They had a tough time for several years.

Michael frowned.  They're divorced.

Oh my gosh!  What happened?  Laurie asked.

Rebecca replied, We don't really know, ourselves.  You know she had multi-personality disorder, didn't you?  Jeff shook his head.  Well, maybe we all learned that after you moved away.  It's been a long time.  Anyway, whatever drove them apart—the exact reason—Michael and I don't know that.  They've both remarried.  She and her new husband are happy.

Laurie said, I knew about her illness.  She'd been struggling with it since she was a teenager.  Jeff looked surprised.  She told me how hard it was to deal with constant therapy, little bit by painful little bit.  It's like overlapping—what did she call it?

Rebecca answered, I remember her saying it was like peeling an onion, clear to the middle.

Yeah!  That was it.  Like an onion with multiple layers to remove.  And it's always hard to work at it.  Just when she'd get some kind of relief, it was time to struggle on.

Rebecca said, "She stopped therapy.  She might go back