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At the end of the first week of May, Mara’s illness, that she’d been working so hard to overcome, joined forces with my mother and formed an unholy alliance that landed Mara in hospital. She would accept no visitors, though I tried.
Seeing Mara hit the bottom the way she did rattled me more than I wanted to admit. Driving up to that hospital in the days that followed was a nightmare. The smell of cigarette smoke never completely left my nostrils in the days I tried to visit her. I was lost. Mara was the anchor, and with her set adrift, Zale, Olivia, and I, were all spinning mindlessly.
Helping Zale with Olivia, and getting Mara back home, took up the whole of the second week. I barely repressed my volcanic anger towards my mother for the way she’d manipulated Mara. Every evening when I got back to my apartment I cranked up my music to combat the memories, I paced, and I worried.
Every night I dreamed of the past.
The dream was always the same: my dad driving me where I didn’t want to go while I prayed to God, who I was sure was as disappointed with me as my parents were, for a car accident bad enough to prevent us from getting to our destination, at least not for the same reason we were originally heading there. I would have gladly accepted a coma, even a permanent one, going so far as to suggest it to God.
Every night I woke with a garbled scream at the point in the dream when that red brick building came into sight. The dream usually didn’t show up until the last few days of May. It was likely triggered early because of Mara being at that same hospital. This was a new, and unwelcome, change to May’s typical routine.
I saw Barrett for the first time since I yelled at him at Rebecca’s one afternoon near the end of the second week when Mara was back home. Other than a quiet, ‘hey, curly’ when he first saw me, he kept his distance. I didn’t blame him. I drank him in when I knew he wasn’t looking, and I felt his gaze on me often. I stole those moments, sad as they were, as well.
With the worry over Mara, the rage towards my mother, and fatigue from lack of sleep, I began functioning on autopilot at work and staying home more often than I went in, often unable to recall huge portions of the day. I took Olivia a few times and that helped. Having Olivia brought the present into sharp focus, but only for the duration she was with me. I slept well the nights she stayed with me and with her I felt almost normal.
It was near the end of the third week, when Mara was finding her feet, that I had to call Junie.
“Willa?” she picked up immediately.
“Junie,” I paused, terrified of what my mind was telling me, “I’m fairly sure but not one hundred percent certain that there are dead babies in my bathtub.”
I winced.
This was too early for this.
Usually this didn’t show up until the last day or two when Junie usually stayed with me for that very reason. I had always been able to handle it because surely if there was something there, she’d notice and be alarmed. I could trust her brain to tell her the truth. She never sounded the alarm, therefore, nothing was there.
“What? Hang on…” I heard shuffling about and her muffled voice calling to Minty before she came back on the line, “you at home, babe?”
“Yes,” I paused, “I know they’re not really there, but I’m seeing them in my mind, and I’m worried I’ll still see them if I go into the bathroom,” I paused again and then admitted in a whisper, “and I don’t want to see them.”
No matter if I deserved to or not.
“I wouldn’t want to see that either, babe,” she paused. I heard a door slam. “Giving you to Minty now. We’re heading for the car and we’re on our way.”
“Hi, beautiful.” Minty’s cool, soft voice reached out to me over the line. I heard the car doors slam shut and seatbelts click. Hyper aware of every sound, I listened intently, following their progress.
“I’m sorry, Minty,” I whispered. I heard the car start.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. Tell me what you did today.”
“I went to the shelter in the morning, I picked up lunch, and then I came home. I needed to go to the bathroom, but I can’t go in there just in case…” I heard the clicking of the indicator and could visualize the turn they were about to make.
“No problem. What did you eat?”
I settled in. I knew this game; I could do this.
“I got a salad from The Copper Kettle.”
“A salad? That seems like a poor choice for May.”
I huffed out a dry laugh. “I got fritters too.”
“Ah, that’s better. We’re five minutes out. Is your door unlocked?”
“Um, I don’t know. I’ll check.”
“Do that. Which furry friends did you have with you in your office today?”
