Eighty and Out (24 page)

Jess arrived right on time for her appointment with Megan. No one dragged her there against her will, but it wasn’t something she looked forward to either. The only reason she kept going was because she knew someone who had luck with counseling and she hoped to get fixed too. Lord knew she had enough on her mind.

Seated in her chair instead of lying down, Jess hunched forward, with her hands balled together in her lap. She tried to relax, but it was difficult. She didn’t care for authority figures much.

“So why don’t you tell me what’s been going on? How are you feeling?” Megan asked.

Jess tsked and said, “I’m angry as usual.”

Megan paused. “Would you like to tell me why? What’s on your mind?”

Jess leaned back and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “It’s Rachel. She’s still with that woman.”

“You mean the woman you found her with?”

“Yeah.”

Jess gazed off into the distance, thinking about the day it happened. She’d come early home from work and found Rachel in bed with another woman. She saw red and grabbed the stranger by the hair. “You think you can touch my girlfriend and live!” she’d yelled.

Rachel stood naked screaming in the background as the sound of Jess’ fists repeatedly slammed into the young lady’s face. Blood frothed from her mouth and began spilling on the carpet along with several of her front teeth until she was knocked unconscious.

“It’s still causing you to feel anger?” Megan asked cautiously.

Jess returned to the present. “Uh huh,” she said. “I know I should let it go. Beating her up only guaranteed they’d end up staying together. It’s just at that moment. I couldn’t think straight, you know.”

Megan nodded, then cleared her throat. “I think the focus here is to learn how to control your anger before it turns to rage. I know that’s a challenge, but if we can figure that out your life will improve a lot.”

Jess uncrossed her arms and propped them on her knees, resting her head in her hands. Looking at the ground she said, “Rachel is gone and I’m here. How’s my life gonna get better?”

“Well if you can learn to better control your emotions, your interactions with others will improve. You may or may not get Rachel back, but when you get out you’ll be prepared to have a healthy relationship.”

Jess let out a deep sigh and ran her fingers through her short brown hair. She wasn’t ready to accept that she and Rachel might never have another chance. Already exhausted by their short visit, she glanced at Megan. “I guess you’re right. I just don’t know how to do that. I thought Rachel and I were good, you know. I never saw it coming.”

“She should have broken it off with you first. That’s true. But sometimes people don’t behave as they should, and we have to be prepared to deal with it in a manner that doesn’t negatively affect us. If, for instance, you had handled the situation by having an argument and storming off, which would be expected, it might be possible you could have worked things out later on. Or you might have thought about it some more and decided you didn’t really want to. But you don’t have that luxury now.”

“No shit. Tell me something I don’t know.”

There was a pause, and Megan started again. “How about this. Let me ask you a question. What attracts you to a person? How should they treat you?”

Jess shrugged. “Nice, I guess.”

“Be more specific. Describe nice.”

Jess concentrated then said, “I’d want to know they love me, and not just with their words. I’d want their actions to show it too.”

“What actions would you like to see?” Megan asked.

“Well, I’d like to have them do little things to make me happy and make me feel special. And I don’t want to have to chase after them.”

“And why do you feel you have to chase them?” Megan asked.

“I don’t know. It’s just how it’s always been. I want them so bad and I don’t have patience.”

Megan paused. “And what do you think would happen if you didn’t chase the next person, if you let things unfold at a natural pace? What if you treated them the way you want to be treated? Do you think they would like that?”

Jess smiled, exposing her crooked teeth and her face lit up. “Yeah. I think they would.”

“And what happens if they make you upset?” Megan asked.

Jess grinned. She knew the answer to this one. They’d been discussing it the last few visits. “I take a deep breath and count to ten.”

“Right on,” Megan said, then high-fived her.

Jess kept smiling. These psych visits weren’t so terrible after all, she thought.

*****

Dinner was another forgettable meal. As Kristen accepted her “mystery meat,” mashed potatoes and soggy green beans, she thought about all the nice dinners she’d eaten before. Jeremy had been a great cook, the “grill master” as he liked to be called, but they’d eat out a few times per week too. Not always someplace fancy, although she had fond memories of those evenings.

There was a Brazilian restaurant she liked near the house, and she’d always order a grilled meat dish called churrasco and a glass of Pinot noir. Or maybe it was bottle of Pinot. Either way, she would give anything to have a bite of steak right now. Her sister-in-law, Olivia, had never told her where she’d gone out to eat, editing that part out from her letters so as not to make Kristen feel bad. But when Kristen repeatedly asked what restaurants she’d frequented, Olivia finally obliged.

The silly details of a “you pick two” combo at Panera or a dark chocolate raspberry shake from Godiva meant a lot to Kristen. They reminded her that life was still good somewhere and gave her hope that one day she might have a chance to live in the real world again. Unlike the fifty percent who screwed up, either by accident or on purpose, there was no chance she would follow in their shoes. She couldn’t wait to leave prison and go home.

“How much stretchin’ you gotta do to work this shit off?” a fellow inmate Kristen hardly knew asked, then sat down next to her.

“I don’t know if it’s possible to rid one’s system of this toxic poison,” Kristen replied. “You’d probably need an herbal cleanse.”

Her new friend looked confused. “I don’t know what you talking about girl.”

Kristen raised an eyebrow. “You know, from the health food store.”

Her dinner mate laughed. “The health food store, yoga. That ain’t my thing. Seen you doin’ it out on the yard though. Why you like it so much?”

Kristen paused. “Actually I do Pilates. It strengthens the muscles and stretches them at the same time. When I’m done it’s almost like I’ve had a massage. Then I still like to run and lift some weights.”

“All right. I feel ya. Maybe tomorrow I’ll come by and you can show me how to do it?”

Perking up Kristen replied, “Sure. I’d love to.”

On her way back to her cell Kristen thought back to her Pilates class, her spinning class, the kettlebells workouts. The studio she used to go to was tranquil and clean, in a nice part of town. Everyone who attended was polished and fit. She could recreate a fitness routine here maybe, but polished wasn’t ever going to happen.

The following day on the yard the young woman showed up to work out with Kristen. Another girl joined in too and she showed them some beginner Pilates moves. They started with a Spine Stretch Forward and moved on to the Saw and the Mermaid. A little bit of a challenge without a mat, but they were tough girls. They’d manage.

Kristen saw Jess playing basketball nearby. She seemed to be watching their small group laughing and having fun. She and Jess hadn’t spoken since “the incident,” and although it looked like Jess was interested in joining them, she continued shooting hoops.

[End of Sample]

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Standing in the snow in front of my husband’s grave, I came to an unexpected realization. What used to be a romantic tribute had become something disconcerting.

As I kneeled down to lay a pink rose at the base of Justin’s headstone, I noticed a bouquet of yellow daffodils in the spot where I planned to place my flower. Daffodils? From whom? I tried to wrap my mind around why they were there, to solve a mystery I hadn’t anticipated.

Then a strong gust of Chicago wind slapped across my face. And with it came a new level of comprehension. Today was Valentine’s Day. These flowers were fresh.

Confused, I began to look around. I scanned the cemetery for others and saw a lone groundskeeper cleaning near the entrance. I dropped my rose and began running in his direction.

Arriving short of breath, I asked, “Have you been here long? Have you seen anyone else here recently?”

“No,” he said, eyeing me with caution. “I just come from break.”

Out of frustration I grasped for anything. “Okay, well is there a log of some kind? Of the people who come and go each day?”

My visitations had never been recorded. I knew this.

The man could see its importance to me, so he gave it some thought before responding.

“No,” he said. “No records.”

Disappointed, I stood there, staring at him. He gazed back at me, with a polite smile on his face. Then, after an awkwardly long pause, the groundskeeper’s look changed from pleasant to irritated. He mumbled something about being busy and walked away.

My mind began racing and I felt the pulse of a headache starting in the back of my skull. When I left work earlier, I’d been happy to find it wasn’t cold and gray. Driving into the cemetery, I had been captured by the particularly brilliant sunset; the sky blazed with pink and purple streaks.

Now, as I stood alone, the sky was dark.

Suddenly, I couldn’t leave fast enough. I began running toward my car, somehow managing to not trip or fall, then hopped in and slammed the door shut. A little flustered, I dropped my keys as I went to start the engine. I felt around and finally discovered them jammed between the front seat and center console. I pulled them free, started the car, then peeled out of the parking spot like a teenage drag racer.

As I turned left onto the main road to head home, I considered the possibilities. Maybe Justin’s parents were in town and had gone to the cemetery. They popped in from time to time, not always stopping by to say hello. The rare trip to see their grandson was the only reason they ever seemed to bother with me.

I knew it wasn’t my mom. After the funeral she never went back, although she was respectful of my visits, which were many over the last two years. Since the funeral, my routine—coming on holidays and his birthday—had always been the same. Only the seasons changed. But today my world tipped slightly off its axis, and I couldn’t help but recall what my older co-worker Barb had once told me, that the only constant in life is change.

Something in the pit of my stomach didn’t like it.

As I got closer to home, I tried to forget the flowers. I wanted to seem normal to my son, Tyler, and my mom. He’s only seven, and believed I was out visiting a friend. Mom, on the other hand, is quite perceptive. Nothing gets past her. Stressed out and feeling a migraine coming on, I turned right onto the street where I live.

“Hey honey, I’ve got your plate in the microwave,” Mom called out, after she heard me come in.

I set my keys and purse on the sofa, took off my coat and hung it up. Then I walked into the kitchen.

“Amy,” Mom said, “You look terrible. Are you okay? You have sweat beads on your forehead.”

I wiped my face with the back of my hand. “Oh,” I replied, “I’m fine, just a little cold.”

She gave me a funny look and put my food on the table. I sat down to eat right away, hoping she wouldn’t ask more questions. Then Tyler ran in.

“Mom. Grandma and I went to the library. I got a DVD on bugs of the desert southwest. You wanna watch it with me?”

“Sure honey.” I somehow managed to eat dinner and hold a coherent conversation, but the whole time I felt like I was sinking in quicksand. Luckily, no one seemed to notice. Afterward, Mom returned to her novel, and Tyler and I watched the bug program; at least it appeared like I did. Mostly I just stared at the TV while thinking about the daffodils.

“Scorpions are so cool. Don’t you think?” Tyler asked, interrupting my thoughts.

I despised bugs, but I didn’t want to disappoint my son. “Yeah, I guess they’re pretty neat,” I agreed. “You know, it’s almost time for bed soon. I’m going to take a bath, and then I’ll come and tuck you in.”

Tyler frowned but didn’t put up a fight. He was well-behaved that way. He put the disc back in its case while I left to go to the bathroom. Once inside, I dimmed the lights and locked the door. I turned the tub faucet on to as hot as I could stand it, added some aromatherapy salts, undressed and climbed in. As the water level grew, I sunk deeper into its protective womb. I closed my eyes and let the warmth slowly relax me. As so often happened when I relaxed, an old memory surfaced—one I try not to remember—of the day my dad moved away, leaving my mom and me for another woman. I was just a kid.

Tears began flowing down my cheeks and into the water. It was a silent sobbing so as not to disturb anyone else. Then my mind began to race again.
Daffodils!
Soon my head throbbed with unbearable pain. I couldn’t allow myself to think about any of it a moment longer, so I released the drain, grabbed a towel and climbed out.

I must have lost track of time, because when I went to tuck Tyler in, he was already in bed, asleep. I leaned over and kissed him on top of his head, then gently closed his door. When I got to my room, I noticed a bottle of Excedrin lying on the dresser, so I took two, without water, and collapsed into bed.

While lying in the dark, I decided to think of something happy. A good memory. A previous Valentine’s Day. Justin always took me to Francesca’s, our favorite Italian restaurant. I could almost see us sitting at a candlelit table, drinking wine and eating pasta.

Justin raised his glass, “Someday I’m going to take my kitten to Paris.”

I flushed. Even after years together, he still had that effect on me.

“We’ll eat at the Eiffel Tower restaurant for your birthday. Then we’ll go on one of those Seine river cruises. What do you think?”

“Say the word and I’m packed,” I said.

We spent the night talking, sharing tiramisu. Justin glowed with health and his blue eyes sparkled as he described plans to expand his carpentry business. Soon we’d be financially set. We’d be able to afford to travel the world together, like we always talked about. I don’t think I’d ever seen him more excited about anything as he was about this.

People shouldn’t die of cancer at thirty.

Every good memory eventually ended up there... in reality. There was no escaping it, no matter how hard I tried. And now there was the mystery of the daffodils. I didn’t know what to think, but I desperately needed rest if I wanted to make it to work in the morning, so I shut my eyes and willed my mind to stop racing.

I dreamt of Justin. We floated peacefully together on a lake in a rowboat. The sky was clear and the sun shone bright. He said something funny that made me laugh, causing me to lean over and clutch my belly. When I regained composure and tossed my head back up, still smiling, clouds had filled the sky. They had an ominous look about them, angry. Lightning sparked followed by loud claps of thunder. I looked at Justin, wondering what we should do, but his expression was blank. Then the waves grew choppy. All at once, swells the size of skyscrapers surrounded us. One moment we were in their trough, the next we ascended their foamy crest. Terrified, I looked over at Justin, seeking some kind of help. He remained blank-faced and unresponsive. Then, as we began descending back into the dark cavern of the wave, the boat tipped over, and I woke up, choking.