Chapter 5 - The Migraine Campaign
Three days later, Odette escalated.
The house manager found me in the conservatory, where I was lying on a velvet chaise with a book open over my face.
“Mrs. Bellweather,” he said nervously. “Mrs. Odette Bellweather has developed a severe migraine.”
“How tragic.”
“Her physician recommends family supervision.”
“How specific.”
“She has requested you remain beside her for twenty-four hours.”
There it was.
The second trap.
Odette wanted me trapped in a dark bedroom fetching water, massaging temples, adjusting curtains, and proving to the household that I could be trained into service.
I sat up.
“Tell her I will provide exceptional care.”
The house manager looked relieved.
Poor man.
Thirty minutes later, I entered Odette’s bedroom followed by two movers carrying an oversized reclining chair and a licensed private-duty nurse named Bernice Holt.
Bernice was fifty-seven, broad-shouldered, deeply credentialed, and famous among wealthy Seattle families for treating rich patients exactly like regular patients, which made her terrifying.
Odette reclined against silk pillows.
“Romy, dear,” she said weakly. “Massage my temples.”
“I would never risk worsening your condition. Bernice is certified in neurological recovery support.”
Bernice opened a medical bag.
“We’ll begin with hydration, blood-pressure monitoring, and mobility assessment.”
Odette’s eyes sharpened.
“I do not need mobility assessment.”
“You reported being unable to stand.”
“I am not a patient.”
“You are in bed requiring supervision.”
Odette sat upright immediately.
I settled into the recliner, pulled a blanket over myself, and inserted noise-canceling earbuds.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I will stay all night. Family duty matters.”
Then I closed my eyes.
Every hour, Bernice checked Odette’s blood pressure.
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Every two hours, Bernice guided her through physician-approved stretches.
By afternoon, Odette marched into the hallway shouting that she had experienced a miraculous recovery.
