“Oh no,” Mary said, appalled. “I never knew that. John kept it to himself, even when we worked together.”
“That would be John. That’s why I was so surprised by the ring.” Judy looked away as they walked along, and Mary couldn’t imagine how hard this was for her, to have just lost John and now to have to tell his brother the awful news.
“I’m so sorry about all of this, honey.”
“Thanks, but anyway, let me answer your question. What happened was that William’s mother’s regular obstetrician was out of town when she went into labor, so his partner covered for him, but he was so drunk that he couldn’t even function at the delivery.” Judy’s lips curled in disgust. “If it hadn’t been for a nurse who stepped in, William would’ve died. John’s mother might have, too.”
“Oh no.” Mary shuddered, her hand going involuntarily to her belly.
“Oops, I didn’t mean to freak you out.” Judy grimaced as they walked along. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking—”
“No, it’s okay.” Mary knew it was unlikely that anything would go wrong with her delivery, but that didn’t mean she didn’t worry. Constantly.
“The hospital knew the obstetrician was an alcoholic, but they covered it up. Their negligence was so clear that John’s family sued when William was a year old and they got a great settlement. That’s what funded William’s trust, and it should care for him for the rest of his life, at Glenn Meade.” Judy shook her head. “I love all medical mal lawyers now. They may have cheesy commercials, but they’re doing God’s work. Doctors make mistakes just like everybody else and they have to be held to account.”
“Right.” Mary felt the same way. “Lawyer jokes are real funny until somebody leaves a sponge in your mom.”
“Exactly.” Judy nodded. “William’s forty-two and he’s livedhere for about twenty years. He loves it. There’s only six residents in his apartment. He gets along with them all, and they have roughly the same level of intellectual disability.”
“What is his level of intellectual disability?” Mary knew from her special-education practice that there were different levels of functioning for people with cerebral palsy, and she had been successful in mainstreaming many of her younger clients.
“He functions intellectually on about a fourth-grade level. It’s not always easy to understand him, and his hands are spastic, like knotted, and he can’t feed or bathe himself. Still, he can work his laptop using voice-recognition software and he’s on Facebook and Instagram, too. John helped him set up the pages.” Judy smiled sadly, but it passed. “He opens his iPhone with his knuckle and has voice-recognition software on it too, and Siri.”
“God bless voice recognition.” Mary had seen the same thing with her young clients who had special needs.
“I know, it’s opened up a whole new world for people with CP. John got him an Alexa, and it recognizes his voice and commands, and he uses that to turn on the lights and TV and play his playlist from his phone.”
“What’s his personality like? Is he like John?”
“John always used to say, ‘William is the nice one and I’m the mean one.’ But that wasn’t true. John wasn’t mean.” Judy smiled, sadly.
“No, he wasn’t.” Mary felt for her.
“He took such incredible care of William. He came out here all the time to visit him and they would just hang. He was picky about the way they took care of William. And you know John, he didn’t suffer fools.”
Mary smiled. “Now that sounds like him.”
“The guy we talked to on the phone, Mike Shanahan? He started about six months ago. John thought he wasn’t as attentive as he should be, but anyway, William is happy here andhe’s a total sweetheart, you’ll see. He’s friendly, outgoing, and he loves people. And music, hip-hop mostly.” Judy smiled again, shakily. “It drives John crazy—itdroveJohn crazy. John downloaded Mahler for him, but William wanted Jay-Z.”
“How are you gonna tell him about John?” Mary dreaded the task at hand, for Judy’s sake.
“I don’t know.” Judy looked pained. “We’ll take him out. John and I used to take him down to the duck pond. We haven’t been there in a while, it was too cold. He likes it there, and we watch the ducks or sing. He likes to sing.”
“Do you want to take him home with us, until the funeral? I can make room for him, too.”
“No, thanks. I’ll ask him, but he won’t want to go. His support system is here. He’ll go to the funeral, so I’ll come back and take him out for that.” Judy’s lip trembled. “I’ll tell him out at the duck pond. It’s going to be so hard for him.”
“You want me there, or you want me to wait back at his house?”
“No, of course, come with us. He likes to meet new people. He’s going to be devastated.”
“Maybe Mike can get him therapy or grief counseling? Do they have that here?”
“Good idea, I’ll ask him.” Judy sighed. “The problem is that Mike can be chilly. Like he’s professional, but he’s a cold fish.”
“That’s not a good personality for this job.”
“That’s what John always said.” Judy looked up as they reached a sign that readPOPLAR HOUSE, in front of a squarish redbrick apartment building, given a homey feel by multicolored pots with plants outside of its glass front door. “Oh, here we are. Follow me.”
