Need You Now (39 page)

Dr. Brooks stared long and hard at her. “Still no urge to cut?”

“Nope.” Grace folded her hands in her lap, bored with this same line of questioning, although feeling a bit unnerved by the doctor's attitude.

“Really? Because I don't believe you.” Dr. Brooks put her pad and pen on the table and raised her chin.

“Whatever.” Grace looked away from her and tucked her hair behind her ears. “I feel fine.”

Silence. Long, eerie silence. After a full minute, Dr. Brooks spoke up.

“I think you're lying to me, Grace. I think you do have the urge to cut, but you come in here and lie to me every week. That's what I think.”

Grace's hands started to shake as her bottom lip trembled. “How can you say that? I don't lie.”

“Really? Because that's what my other patient said, and she's in the hospital right now fighting for her life. So I don't want anything but the truth from you.”

Grace couldn't believe this. “Look. I don't know what happened with your other patient, but it's unethical for you to even be comparing us. I'm pretty sure that's not allowed!” Grace heard her voice rise as she folded her arms across her chest.

“Don't talk to me about unethical. Talk to me about the things in your life that bother you. Everyone has things that bother them.”

Nice try
. “Well, I don't.”

Dr. Brooks stared at her again, and Grace was tempted to run out of the room. “How are things at home?”

“Things at home are just fine.” Grace was as sarcastic as she could be.

“Sounds like it.”

And this time, for sure, Dr. Brooks rolled her eyes.

Grace pointed her finger at her. “Can you do that? I mean, roll your eyes like that at a patient?”

“Does that make you mad?” Dr. Brooks raised an eyebrow.

“It's unprofessional.”

“Well, I'm rolling my eyes because you are lying to me, and I'm tired of it. Do you think that you come in here and fool me every week, Grace? I've been letting you get away with it lately, but this is unproductive, and I want to help you. No one can have as perfect a life as you claim to have.”

“Maybe I don't need your help!”

“Maybe you do.” Dr. Brooks's voice was softer now, which only made Grace feel like she might cry, and she couldn't do that. “Talk to me, Gracie.”

“Don't call me Gracie.” Her parents called her Gracie when she was younger, and now only when they were upset. She recalled her mother calling her Gracie when she found her that day. She pressed her lips tight, blinked her eyes.

“Okay. Grace. Please talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?” Grace knew she was practically yelling as she threw her hands in the air.

“Talk to me about things that worry you.”

Grace didn't like the mean Dr. Brooks, but she liked this Dr. Brooks even less, the one who really seemed to care about her. That in itself was a lie. She shook her head, clamped her mouth shut. “Why do you pretend like you care? This is just a paycheck for you. You'll go home to your happy little life at the end of the day, and . . . do whatever you do.”

Dr. Brooks sighed. “I'm not going to talk about my life with you, Grace. That's not what your parents are paying me for. But I assure you, it's far from perfect. And sometimes I get really mad.” She paused, sighed. “What upsets you, makes you mad?”

Grace was trembling. She'd done a fair job—so she'd thought—of keeping Dr. Brooks a safe distance away. But she was getting really mad at this woman. “What upsets me is this questioning.”

Dr. Brooks grunted and almost looked like she was grinning. Then she rolled those eyes again.

“Stop doing that!” Grace slapped a hand to her knee.

“What?”

“Rolling your eyes. You're not allowed to do that!” Grace threw her hands up in the air. “I know what you're doing, and it won't work!”

“What won't work, Grace?”

“You're intentionally trying to make me mad because you think I'll just spill and tell you everything that is bothering me!”

“So there are things bothering you?”

Grace slammed her foot on the floor. “No! That's not what I said!” Then she clenched her hands together so tight they hurt, and she closed her eyes.

“Tell me, Grace. Tell me about your life.”

“I'm upset about stuff! I'm really upset!” Her eyes filled with water, and she wasn't sure she could do this. Her hands were trembling, her heart racing. She was losing control.

Dr. Brooks sat calmly in her chair. “Can you tell me about it?”

Grace pulled her eyes away from Dr. Brooks as she started to cry, then she turned back to her and yelled, “My brother wants to date my best friend, and I don't want him to! Something is wrong with my parents, and I don't know what it is! I miss having a boyfriend! And I go to bed crying every single night with a razor blade in my hand because I want to cut so bad I can't stand it!” Grace bent at the waist and sobbed. “There, are you happy?”

She heard Dr. Brooks get up, and she felt a hand on her head. “Yes, Grace. I am.” Dr. Brooks sat down on the floor in front of her and gently raised Grace's chin until their eyes met. Warm tears rolled down Grace's cheeks. “That is what you are supposed to do, honey. It's okay to get mad. It's okay to feel things. It is how you react to things that we are trying to deal with. And you should not have to go to bed every night with these feelings. We are going to get through this. Together.”

Grace couldn't believe it when Dr. Brooks put her arms around her and squeezed her tight. “I'm so proud of you.”

Grace eased away. “Why? I lost my cool. I screamed. And now I'm crying like a big baby.” She was thankful that no one else was here to see this.

“Exactly. And that is what most people do to release their anger and frustrations. You might not see it, but we've just had a big breakthrough.” Dr. Brooks folded her legs underneath her on the floor in front of Grace. She didn't seem as intimidating sitting down there. “Let's start with your parents . . .”

Grace slid out of the chair and onto the floor. She crossed her legs beneath her too and faced Dr. Brooks. Part of her wanted to talk, and part didn't. It took a few moments before she finally took a chance. “My parents are acting weird. I don't know how to explain it, but something is wrong.”

She spent the next hour telling Dr. Brooks about all her worries, her fears, and her strong desires to cut.

By the end of the session, she felt something she hadn't felt in a long time, unless she'd been cutting. Relief.

Darlene sat in Dr. Brooks's office after Grace's session and was thrilled to hear that Dr. Brooks felt like they'd made a breakthrough. But it upset her to tears that Grace was worried about her and Brad's relationship and that it was one of the issues that caused her pain and anxiety.

“I asked Grace to wait outside so we could talk, and I can tell you're very upset about what I've told you. Are you sure you don't want to schedule an appointment for you and Brad?”

Darlene shook her head. “No. But I don't want Grace worrying about us.”

“I'm not going to minimize Grace's worries, but right now we are dealing with ways to help Grace deal with these issues. I felt like today was a starting point. She's admitted that she is worried about things, and she talked openly for the first time instead of pretending that everything in her life is perfect. I told you we had been making progress, and we were. But I felt sure Grace still had the urge to cut, and I needed to hear her say it. She needed to say it, so we can move forward and make sure she doesn't.”

“I feel . . . so . . . ” Darlene was so tired of crying, and every time she thought there were no more tears to spill, another one found its way down her cheek.

“I know you feel responsible, Darlene, but don't blame yourself. It sounds like you and your husband may have some things to work on. As for Grace, just be honest with her. As honest as you can be, even if it's a simple phrase like, ‘Yes, Dad and I are going through some things, but we love each other very much,' or . . .”

Darlene didn't hear the rest of what Dr. Brooks said. Her focus shifted to whether or not Brad
did
still love her. She loved him with her heart and soul, and if she could take back the kiss with Dave, she'd do it in a heartbeat, no matter what Brad had done. The guilt was gnawing at her.

She eventually thanked Dr. Brooks, then focused on being as cheerful as she could with Grace on the way home, trying to put her daughter's mind at ease, even if her own was not.

“Grace, please don't worry about me and your dad. We've been married a long time, and sometimes married people just go through things. We'll get past it.” She turned to Grace and smiled. “I'm just glad that you and Dr. Brooks had a good session. And, Grace . . . I love you very much.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

Darlene was entering Round Top when Grace asked Darlene to drop her off at Skylar's house.

“Tell Skylar to let me know if she or her father need anything.” Darlene didn't know how much she had to give these days—she felt drained in every way—but she wanted to keep things in perspective. She knew Skylar and her father struggled.

“I will, Mom. I'll catch a ride home with Skylar later.”

Darlene nodded as she pulled into Skylar's driveway. “Chad's here,” she said, noticing his truck in the driveway.

“Yeah.” Grace turned to Darlene before she opened the car door. “I think they're going to start dating.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I don't like it.” Grace grimaced but then smiled nervously. “But you know what? I'm going to go tell them both why I don't like it, and maybe it won't turn out to be such a bad thing.” She shrugged. “Who knows, maybe Skylar will be my sister-in-law someday.”

Darlene smiled. “Maybe so. See you tonight.”

As she headed toward home, she thought about the past few days. Every time she'd tried to talk to Brad, one of the kids was around, or it was just a bad time. At least that was what she was telling herself most of the time. Truth was, she was just scared to death. When she finally confronted Brad, her entire life could change, and that thought terrified her. She'd heard what Layla had said, and she was praying. Not the kind of heartfelt prayers she'd said in the past, but it seemed God was listening because Dr. Brooks had said Grace was doing better.

If only Darlene—or Dr. Brooks—could magically fix everything between her and Brad. But Brad wasn't open to counseling, and Darlene didn't think she could mend things on her own. She tried to talk to God, ask Him for help, but shame rushed over her and choked her prayers. She knew what she'd done was wrong. How could she ask God to forgive her when she couldn't forgive herself?

She turned onto her street, exhausted and wanting to just crawl into bed, maybe stay there for days. But she had dinner to fix—and the anxiety of trying to find a good time to talk to Brad when the kids weren't around. She suspected there would be yelling, and she didn't want her children to overhear. She slowed down and pulled to the side of the gravel road to make room for two police cars whizzing by, something you rarely saw in Round Top, and never on her road. As she eased ahead, she had to move the car over again as an ambulance sped by, then a fire truck. Her heart started pounding.
Is something wrong at my house?

She punched the gas so hard her tires spun. Her car sped down the road, a cloud of gravel dust in her wake, but she didn't stop at her house. All the activity was up ahead on the right. Including television crews.

All in front of Layla's house.

Chapter Twenty

Darlene pulled into Layla's driveway as far as she could, but too many vehicles blocked her way. She had to park behind two television vans near the gate. Outside her car, she hurried down the cobblestones and pushed her way through a media frenzy until she saw paramedics down in the pasture. Her heart pounded as she tried to move in that direction. A sheriff grabbed her arm.