What the Heart Knows Page 7

  “Kids can be intolerant of someone different and you have to admit that Mark hasn’t gone out of his way to be friends with anyone.”

  “They’re good teens.”

  Kathleen sighed. “I know. I can’t see anyone in the youth group harassing Mark, either.”

  “It’s a mystery we may never solve. I’ll ask around with some of the kids and see if they know anything.”

  “There was a time when Mark would tell me everything. Not anymore.”

  He straightened. “That’s being a teenager. Nothing strange about that.”

  “I know. I just want my old Mark back.”

  “I would like to talk with a colleague about Mark, a psychiatrist I have a lot of faith in.”

  “What do you think is wrong?” Alarm bolted through Kathleen.

  He leaned closer. “Change is part of life, but I think something else is going on with Mark. It could be any number of things. We need to get Mark into see me or some other doctor. My friend may be able to help me with this.”

  Kathleen took a deep breath, the scent of cooking hamburgers saturating the air. “Please do. If you think he can get Mark to agree to a physical that would be great.”

  “Then I’ll talk to him and get back with you.” Rising, Jared held out his hand for her. “Let’s see if Brad or Laura need our help.”

  “And give up our lifeguarding job?” She placed her hand in his, needing to lighten the mood.

  “I think Shane and Aaron can handle the little ones.”

  “Don’t let Hannah hear you refer to her as a little one.”

  “That’s the truth. A boy called her the other day and it wasn’t because he wanted her to play soccer or baseball. I heard her giggling on the phone.” He shook his head. “She wears a new dress to church, and the next day she gets a call from a boy who wants just to talk to her on the phone.”

  “Oh, that’s nice.”

  Jared’s eyes widened. “Nice! Not in my book. I’m not ready for Hannah to like boys. She’s only twelve.”

  “Dr. Matthews, I’ve got a news flash for you. There is nothing you’ll be able to do to stop it. Remember, change is part of life.”

  “I should have known you would throw my words back in my face,” he said with a chuckle.

  “At least you know I was listening.”

  “True.” He started toward Brad and Laura, tugging Kathleen with him. “Come on. If we hurry, we can beat the kids to the food.”

  “Is that the last of the dishes?” Kathleen asked, stacking plates beside the sink.

  “Yeah.” Jared set the plates he held on the counter. “Brad and Laura are cleaning up the mess outside. I told them we would take care of the kitchen.”

  “I put the movie on in the den and asked Mark to referee if things got out of hand. He didn’t grumble too much.”

  “I’m surprised. I would have. To be left with an eight-, an eleven-and a twelve-year-old can’t be a teenage boy’s dream of a fun evening.”

  “We shouldn’t be too long cleaning up in here, then we can go rescue him.”

  Jared surveyed the dirty dishes. “Are you sure? Doesn’t your sister believe in paper plates?”

  “Laura never does things the easy way. She bought this set of dishes especially for outdoor parties.” Kathleen rinsed off a brightly flowered orange, yellow and blue plate and gave it to Jared to put in the dishwasher.

  “Then I’m surprised she has a dishwasher. Makes life easier.”

  “Laura does draw the line at some things.”

  “Speaking of drawing, did you ever see what Mark has been drawing in his sketch pad?”

  “Nothing but harmless pictures of the yard, house, a few animals.”

  “I wish I had a talent to draw. I barely manage stick people.”

  “Me, too. Mark got his talent from his dad. When creativity was being handed out, I was at the end of the line.”

  “Your talents lie in other directions. Your organizational abilities are wonderful and those cookies Hannah brought home that you two baked were to die for.”

  Kathleen inclined her head. “Thank you. I’m glad she could help me. We had fun that day.”

  “I know. Hannah is still talking about it.”

  “The ladies of the church decided to have another bake sale next month. I’ll have to ask her to be my assistant again.”

  Jared put the last platter into the dishwasher and closed it. “Now it’s my turn to thank you.”

  He was only a few inches away. His presence commanded her whole attention. He reached up and smoothed her hair behind her ear. Her throat clogged, she swallowed hard. No words came to mind as she stared into his blue eyes, so like the water at the lake last weekend, warm, glittering, inviting.

  “You don’t have to do that. I enjoy Hannah’s company,” Kathleen finally said, her voice husky.

  He closed what little space was between them. “She’s opened a bank account to save her money.”

  Her heartbeat increased. “That’s good.”

  “She has several jobs lined up this week.” Jared slowly bent his head toward hers.

  Acute awareness charged the atmosphere. Kathleen ran the tip of her tongue over her dry lips. “She’s a great work—”

  A scream rent the air.

  “That’s Hannah.” Jared spun about and raced toward the den.

  Kathleen was on his heels as different scenarios zipped through her mind. The beat of her heart sped even faster. She burst into the den right behind Jared and came to a halt, nearly colliding into him. Her gaze riveted on her son standing before the busted television screen with blood dripping down his leg and onto the carpet. Mark stared at the gaping hole in the set, a dazed expression on his face. The three other children sat on the couch, their eyes wide, their mouths hanging open, huddled together.

  “Take them into the kitchen. I’ll see to Mark,” Jared said as he moved toward the teenager.

  Shocked, Kathleen didn’t react for a few seconds. The children’s whimpering sounds urged her forward. She hurried to the couch and drew them into her arms, hugging them to her. “Come on, let’s go into the other room.”

  “He—he kicked the TV in.” Hannah sniffed, tears running down her face. “I—I—don’t know why. Everything was fine one minute, the next he—” The young girl trembled.

  “Your dad will take care of Mark.”

  Kathleen helped the children to their feet, sheltering them close to her body. She headed for the door, glancing over her shoulder as she left the room. Mark was seated now while Jared examined his leg. Quickly she ushered the children into the hallway, her thoughts numb as though this was happening to someone else and she was just a spectator.

  Laura and Brad rushed toward them. “We heard a scream. What’s wrong?” Laura asked, embracing her youngest son, who was now crying.

  “Mark kicked in the TV. Jared’s with him right now.” Kathleen directed the children to the kitchen and poured some water for Hannah, who was hiccuping. Kathleen caught her sister’s look of surprise and shook her head to discourage any more questions in front of the kids.

  “I’ll look after them. You go check on Mark,” Laura said.

  Handing the glass of water to Hannah, Kathleen said, “Thanks,” and left the kitchen, almost afraid to return to the den and discover why her son would do such a thing.

  When she approached the room, she drew in a deep, fortifying breath before pushing open the door. Jared must have gotten a towel from the bathroom off the den to stop the flow of blood. He looked up at her when she neared them, his eyes dark with distress.

  Her own worry skyrocketed. “How bad is it?”

  “There are several lacerations, but they aren’t too deep. Two of them need stitches. It looks worse than it is. We can go to the hospital—”

  “No!” Mark yelled, jerking away and dislodging the towel. Blood oozed again from two of the wounds.

  “Mark!” Kathleen waited until she had her son’s attention. “Dr. Matthews needs t
o take care of your leg.”

  “No hospitals. I won’t go.”

  The frightened, panicked look in her son’s eyes scared her. She sent a silent plea to Jared.

  “We can go by my office and take care of it there, Mark, if you don’t want to go to a hospital.”

  Some of her son’s tension eased. He nodded.

  “See if Laura has some gauze I can wrap around the cuts until we get to my office.”

  Relieved to have something to do, she hurried from the room and found her sister in the kitchen. The three children were calm now and eating cookies and drinking milk at the big oak table in the alcove.

  She pulled her sister to the side. “Jared needs some gauze. Do you have any?”

  “In the children’s bathroom.”

  “Are they okay?” Both her voice and hands shook as Kathleen reached out and touched Laura, tears swimming in her eyes. “I’m so sorry this happened. I never—”

  “Shh. Don’t worry. They’re fine now. Hannah said he cut his leg. Is it bad?”

  Kathleen turned her back on the children and swiped at the tears rolling down her face. “I don’t think the cuts are too bad. That’s not what is worrying me. Why did Mark do it?”

  “You go take care of Mark. I’ll take care of the others.”

  “We need to go to Jared’s office. A couple of the cuts need stitches. You know how Mark feels about hospitals. He refuses to go. Gets hysterical. I’m afraid of what he’ll do if I force the issue.”

  “We’ll watch Hannah and Terry. In fact, tell Jared they can spend the night. Just get some help for Mark.”

  Kathleen quickly made her way to the children’s bathroom and retrieved the gauze, then hastened back to the den. Kneeling in front of Mark, Jared had again applied pressure to her son’s cuts with the towel. He carefully removed it and wrapped the gauze around Mark’s leg, then tied it off.

  “That should keep it from bleeding too much until we get you stitched up.” Jared rose and extended his hand to Mark.

  Her son ignored it and lumbered to his feet, moving back a few paces, his gaze darting back and forth between Jared and his mother. “No hospital. Promise?”

  “I’m only taking you to my office. I have everything I need there,” Jared said in a calm, soothing voice.

  Kathleen was amazed at how in control Jared was, while all she wanted to do was fall apart. Her son had just kicked in her sister’s television. There were so many questions she wanted to ask. But first things first. After Mark’s cuts were taken care of, she needed some answers.

  An hour later Kathleen followed her son into his bedroom. He stepped over a pile of dirty clothes, flung himself on the bare mattress, and rolled over to face up. He covered his eyes with his arm.

  Scanning the disarray, she tried to think of how best to start what she wanted to say. The long, silent ride to the house should have afforded her enough time to come up with something, but her thoughts were a jumbled mess—like her son’s room.

  Finally she sucked in a deep, bracing breath and asked, “Mark, are you sure you’re all right? Do you need something for the pain?”

  Lowering his arm, he stared at her, his face hidden in the shadows. Kathleen started to switch on the light when her son said, “Don’t. I like the dark. I’m safer.”

  “Safer?”

  For a long moment Mark didn’t say anything. Kathleen felt his gaze drilling into her as though he were trying to figure out what was behind the question.

  “He can’t see me in the dark.”

  “He?” Alarm sent her heart racing. Sweat popped out on her upper lip, her hands clammy. “Who, Mark? Does this have anything to do with the incident by the lake?”

  “He’s always watching me.”

  Kathleen stepped closer to the bed and saw the terror on her son’s face. The same kind of numbing terror struck her, seizing the air in her lungs and holding it. Finally she breathed and asked the question she had wondered since the incident, “Why did you kick in the TV?”

  “He was on the TV telling everyone my secrets. I had to stop him.” Rolling onto his side, away from her, Mark curled up into a tight ball and threw an arm over his head to hide.

  The shaking began in her hands and rapidly spread throughout her body. She hugged her arms to her and sat down on her son’s bed. Slowly she reached out and placed her trembling fingers on his back. He flinched and bolted to the far end of the bed.

  “Honey,” she said in a soothing voice that matched Jared’s tone earlier, “you are safe here. I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you.”

  Mark’s gaze darted from her to the window to the door then back to her. His terror transformed into horrified panic, an ashen cast to his face, his eyes so large that they were all Kathleen saw when she looked at her son.

  She opened her arms and prayed Mark sought refuge in her embrace. That was all she could think to do. Her throat constricted with unshed tears as she watched him decide what he should do. Then slowly his fear evaporated to be replaced with an emotionless mask that siphoned the tension out of him. He scooted toward her and let her wrap her arms around him. Laying his head on her chest, he laughed, a high-pitched sound that sliced through Kathleen’s heart to her very soul.

  When his laughter evolved into tears, she held him tighter, so frightened of what she was witnessing that she could hardly hold herself together. But for her son she had to. She patted his back and whispered she loved him over and over until he calmed down. Her arms ached from the fierceness of her embrace, but she was afraid to let him go, as though if she did she would lose him forever.

  “Mark, honey,” she whispered into the quiet.

  No response.

  She pulled back. Her son’s eyes were closed, his face relaxed in sleep. She laid him back on the mattress and covered him with a sheet from the floor by the bed. Standing over him, she watched him sleep, one minute slipping into another until twenty minutes had passed and the dark shadows had deepened as night crept through the window and into the room. He didn’t stir the whole time.

  She tiptoed to the door and eased it open. A creak sounded in the silence and sent a chill down her. She peered at Mark and sighed when she saw that he was still asleep on the bed, the light from the hallway illuminating him.

  Precious memories from his childhood flooded her mind, twisting her heart into a knot. She shut the door part way, leaving it a few inches open. Turning off the hall light, she made her way toward the stairs. At the top she gripped the banister, squeezing her eyes closed as she swayed. Sinking to the step, she sat, burying her face in her hands, her body quaking.

  What was going on in her son’s mind? Hallucinations of a man after him? Inappropriate emotional responses? Laughing one moment, crying the next? What else? The very thought panicked her. She had so many questions and no answers.

  Wearily she shoved herself to her feet and trudged down the stairs. Jared was waiting in the kitchen. She could smell the coffee brewing that he must have put on. The aroma drew her toward the heart of the house, as Jared had once called the kitchen.

  She entered the room and leaned back against the door as though it could keep her upright. All she wanted to do was collapse into the nearest chair, bury her head as her son had and forget this day had ever happened. She wished her problems would disappear that easily; she knew they wouldn’t.

  Jared pivoted. One look at her face and he was across the room and pulling her into the shelter of his arms. For a few seconds she felt as though she had come home. Then she remembered.

  “What happened?”

  “Besides my son kicking in the TV?” Hysterics threatened to take over. She squashed the feeling and leaned back to look into Jared’s comforting expression. “Mark believes a man is after him.”

  “Believes?” Jared’s brow wrinkled.

  “That the man was talking to the world through the television set and exposing all his secrets. That’s why he kicked the TV to stop the man.”

  Jared’s frown deepe
ned to a scowl. “He’s hallucinating.”

  Kathleen nodded, the action cementing in her mind the depth of her son’s problems. “I don’t understand any of this. Why’s this happening? Mark was always such a sweet child.”

  “I don’t know, but we must find out.”

  Desperate, she latched onto the word we as though he had cast her a lifeline and she was going down for the third time. “What do I need to do?”

  “Mark needs to go to the hospital. I know it won’t be easy getting him there, but this isn’t something we should deal with at my office. He needs to be watched. I need to run tests. There are a number of things that could be wrong.”

  “Like what?”

  “I hate to speculate without more information.”

  “Don’t tell me that.” Her voice rose.

  “Okay. I need to look at drug abuse, a brain tumor, thyroid and other metabolic disturbances as well as schizophrenia or manic depression, to name a few psychoses.”

  Kathleen had to sit, overwhelmed by all the illnesses he’d listed. Her legs shook so badly she wasn’t even sure she could walk the few feet to the chair. Starting forward, she faltered. Jared clasped her to him and helped her to the seat. Her emotions frozen, she stared at the flowered mat on the glass table. The bright colors were cheerful, a sign of hope and in stark contrast to what she felt.

  Jared poured them each a cup of coffee and sat next to her. “Now you see why I hate to speculate. It could be any number of things.”

  She raised her tear-filled eyes. “Brain tumor. Schizophrenia.” A bone-chilling cold embedded itself in her, causing her whole body to quake. She clasped her hands together but nothing stilled their shaking.

  Jared scooted his chair closer until their knees touched. He gripped her upper arms and rubbed his warm hands up and down them. “I don’t have to tell you his hallucinations aren’t a good sign. Something is very wrong with Mark and the sooner we get him to the hospital the better.”

  “He was so exhausted. He just fell asleep. He hasn’t done that in a while. Can we take him first thing in the morning?”