The Door at the Top of the Stairs (12 page)

Morgan stood there, clearly nonplussed. "And you're telling me that after all that, he didn't report you to the sheriff?"

Jesse squinted at her. “And tell him what? That a 135 pound woman beat him up and held him under the water?"

Morgan stood up and ran her fingers through her hair. “Jesus H. Christ." She reached into the bed and got the come-along. "Grab that other shit and let's go."

Jesse picked up the bag of supplies and followed about ten paces behind Morgan. They walked for a while in silence before Morgan stopped and abruptly turned.

Jesse stopped and backed up a step.

Morgan walked back and Jesse backed up some more. "Stay."

Jesse stopped and crossed her arms. She studied the ground as Morgan came back to her. "You got out of the truck on purpose, didn't you? You meant to antagonize him."

Jesse continued to stare at the ground.

"Didn't you?"

Jesse raised her eyebrows and met Morgan's eyes. "Well, you think maybe I could take the fifth on that one?"

Morgan nodded, sighed and started walking again. “That's a very good idea."

Jesse caught up to her and Morgan put her arm around her shoulders as they walked. “You little shit."

Chapter Thirteen

The following day, they were sitting in the living room getting ready to start another session. Jesse was standing by the window, staring out, her hands in her pockets, wishing she could be anywhere but in this room.

Ryland said for the third time, “Jesse, come over here and sit down." Morgan started to get up to make her come to the sofa, but Ryland held up her hand to stop her. She put an index finger to her lips and shook her head.

Morgan was getting irritated, so she got up and went out to the kitchen to get something to drink. She pushed through the swinging door, and as she was reaching into the refrigerator for the orange juice she heard the front door open and close. Still holding the juice in one hand and a glass in the other, she pushed the kitchen door open to see who'd come in. Ryland was the only one left in the room. Morgan looked from her to the front door. “What happened?"

Ryland shrugged, then walked to the front door and locked it.

“Jesse left."

"And you're okay with that?"

"No, I'm not okay with it, but I understand it." She looked at her watch, then raised her eyebrows. “We seem to have some unexpected, unscheduled time on our hands. I don't think Jesse will be back on her own today." She returned to the armchair and patted a small portion of the cushion next to her. Morgan set the glass and the juice container on the coffee table and wedged herself in.

Ryland edged around so she was sitting sideways on Morgan's lap, her back on one armrest, her legs hanging over the other. Morgan put her arm around Ryland's shoulder and Ryland rested her head on Morgan's chest, playfully feathering Morgan's breasts with her thumb. "This is better than therapy any day."

Morgan knew a hint when she heard one. She lifted Ryland's face and met her lips with her own. She brushed her tongue over Ryland's mouth, savoring the faint taste of cherry blush as her fingers lightly stroked Ryland's breast and she felt the nipple respond. Ryland groaned softly, and Morgan's own body ached with pleasure. As Ryland relaxed into Morgan's arms, she whispered, “
Much
better than therapy...."

They rested in the chair a while, enjoying each other's bodies and talking quietly until Ryland stood and pulled Morgan to her feet. "Maybe we should let Jesse leave more often." Her lips found Morgan's one more time; then she stepped away. "Let's get you that drink so you can go back to work and I can finish reading my book." She led Morgan into the kitchen where she poured two glasses of orange juice. She set them at the counter and they pulled out two stools and sat.

Morgan caught Ryland's eyes over the lip of her glass. “I love making love to you."

Ryland caressed Morgan's face. "I have to admit, I've had a lot of patients miss appointments, but I've never enjoyed myself quite this much because of it."

Talking about appointments made Morgan think about the afternoon schedule and she reluctantly changed the subject. “So, what do we do about Jesse?"

Ryland swiveled her seat so she was facing Morgan, who did the same so that her legs were on either side of Ryland's. Ryland said, “You know, she honestly doesn't remember what happened to her. Think about the few things we've been able to bring out so far.

Any one of those would be enough to destroy some people. She lived through those and, I think, a lot more. It may look to you like she's getting better, but I see her falling apart, and she's terrified."

Morgan played with her glass, swirling the juice around until a whirlpool formed. “I did think maybe she was getting better. She doesn’t seem as angry anymore, and she's remembering things."

"Yes, but it's precisely the lack of anger that concerns me. Her anger's kept her alive this last year. Is she getting better or just giving up?"

Morgan set the glass down. “I forgot to ask you something yesterday. Why did you say her experiences wouldn't diminish her in our eyes? Why would you even need to say that? I'd never look down on her for what those assholes did."

Ryland reached over and picked up Morgan's hand, rubbing her thumb over the wedding band she'd given her ten years earlier.

“I know it's not one of your strengths, but I'd like you to try to recognize the range of emotions Jesse experiences when we're working with her. You see a lot, but you miss a lot too. She's ashamed Morg. We saw her with blood and brains and gore all over her face, and she's ashamed. What else does she have to let us see? And, in her mind at least, how much more can we take before we turn away from her in disgust? I was letting her know that no matter what happened to her, she won't be diminished, that we won't be disgusted and we won't turn away."

Morgan listened, but she really didn't understand. What she did understand was that she had work she needed to get to. "So, since she's gone, should I just go back to work and forget about today?"

Ryland ran her thumb over Morgan's chin. “Oh, I don't think I'd forget about the
whole
day." The love she saw in Morgan's eyes overwhelmed her. No one deserved to be as happy as she was when they were together. The two of them walked out to the living room together. The book she'd been reading had fallen to the floor, and she bent down and picked it up before putting on her reading glasses. “Anyway, at this point, memories won't stop coming just because she tells them to. She'll be back, and when she is, we'll be here."

“All right, then. I’m headed back down to the kennels. See you at dinner time.” Morgan grabbed a light jacket out of the hall closet and walked down to the barn, expecting Jesse to be working on the bridles she'd told her to mend. When she didn't find her, she checked around the kennels and then around the entire perimeter of the buildings. Rico was changing the oil in one of the tractors, a 1953 Ford Jubilee she'd learned to drive when she was twelve years old and helping her father on their farm. She walked over and asked whether he'd seen Jesse anywhere.

"Si, Señora...there." He pointed toward the forest that edged the eastern part of her farmland.

The forest was large enough that she’d need a horse if she had any hope of finding Jesse before nightfall. She went into the barn and saddled Kanab. He needed some extra exercise, so she decided to use the time to take him through his paces. They rode out past the tractors and turned East, tacking back and forth through the forest for over an hour, checking all the places she thought Jesse might be. The leaves on the trees were still wet, and as she rode through them, tiny drops came off and slid down her jacket, eventually soaking into the legs of her jeans. The smells and sounds of the forest lulled her into a peaceful frame of mind until she began to reflect on what they'd talked about this afternoon.

She enjoyed watching Ryland in her element, but some of the time she had no idea what her friend was talking about. She'd mentioned shame, terror, anger, and disgust. All Morgan had been aware of was the anger. Now, thinking back, she recognized the shame, and understood the terror, but the disgust bothered her.

Does Jesse honestly believe I could be disgusted enough to walk
away?
How many times do I have to tell her I’m not going
anywhere?
She also wondered whether Jesse would really just give up because of what she'd been through. The idea of suicide was so totally out of Morgan's realm of thinking that she hadn't really given the idea a second thought.

Turning south, she eventually rode out into a clearing where she used to come when she needed to be alone. Jesse stood at the edge of a cliff, overlooking a two hundred foot drop to a creek bed below. The forest ended about a hundred yards from the cliff, and a field of Kentucky Bluegrass blanketed the gentle incline to where Jesse stood. Morgan reined Kanab to a halt and watched her, wondering exactly what was going though her mind as she looked out over the valley. Jesse hadn't brought a jacket, and she was standing absolutely still, her arms crossed in front of her chest, her legs slightly apart. Morgan dismounted and tied Kanab to a tree.

She walked through the knee-high grass until she was close enough for her voice to carry up to where Jesse was standing. “Mind if I join you?"

Jesse didn't say anything, so Morgan climbed up and stood next to her. As she shoved her hands into her back pockets, she breathed deeply. “It's beautiful, isn't it? I used to come here a lot.

I'd sit here and solve all the problems in my pathetic little world."

Jesse turned her head slightly and said softly, “Morgan, are you ever afraid?"

Morgan nodded. “Sometimes."

They stood quietly until Jesse pulled her arms in tighter to her body. “I'm more afraid than I've ever been in my life. What if I can't do this? What if—" She stopped and turned away. "What would happen to you and Ryland if I weren't here? If…if I left...would you be okay?"

Morgan watched the creek wind its way through the valley.

She realized Jesse wasn't simply asking whether they could run the farm without her, and she framed her answer carefully. “Jesse, you and I are a lot alike: stubborn, impetuous, strong-willed, strong. I want to ask you something before I answer your question. Today, Ryland told me you might think that if what happened to you was too horrible, we'd be too disgusted to be around you or to want you around us. Is that true?"

Jesse's face turned a bright red, and she covered her eyes with a trembling hand.

Morgan put her hands on Jesse's shoulders and turned her around so they were facing each other. She reached up and gently pulled Jesse's hand down. "I have another question. If someone had raped Ryland, really brutalized her, and she worked up the courage to tell you about it, to completely describe the details because she needed to talk about it to someone, would you be too disgusted to ever want to spend time with her again?"

Jesse wiped some tears away from her cheeks with the back of her hand. "Of course not."

Morgan put her hand on Jesse's chin and made her meet her eyes. “Are you so much better than Ryland and me that you really think
we'd
be disgusted with
you
because of what happened?"

Jesse slowly leaned into Morgan, who wrapped her arms around her and held her against her chest. Jesse stared out over the valley, thinking about the memories that had surfaced in the last few weeks. “It's a long way down, isn't it?"

Morgan didn't know what to say, so she kept quiet.

Jesse hadn't expected an answer, and when she'd gathered her thoughts, she said, “I guess we've climbed a little way up, and for some reason, we're roped together. If we just keep climbing maybe we’ll reach the top." She pushed back from Morgan and held her eyes for a moment. “Morgan, do you think it's possible, or am I just too fucked up to make it?"

Morgan looked at the dark circles surrounding Jesse's eyes and put her hands on the younger woman's shoulders. “I think the only way we can make it is if we trust Ryland to show us where to go.

She's good, Jesse, and if we have any chance of making it, it'll be because of her."

The breeze picked up, and Jesse shivered from the cold autumn air. Morgan had on thermals and a wool shirt, so she took off her jacket and held it out. Jesse started to refuse but Morgan stepped behind her and held it open for her to put her arms through. "Put it on and don't argue with me. All I need is for my stable hand to get sick and leave me with all the feeding."

Jesse reluctantly shrugged into the jacket as they walked through the field to where Kanab was tethered. They gathered his reins and walked quietly through the forest with the soft sounds of nature surrounding them. Jesse walked carefully so she wouldn't startle the wildlife into an unnatural silence.

There was a lot going on in Morgan's mind as the two of them walked back to the farm. She marveled at how much this irritating, rude, exasperating young woman had managed to change her—

deep down change her—in the last six weeks.

They reached the barn and Morgan started inside. Jesse took Kanab's reins and pushed her back. "If you go back to the house, I'll take care of Kanab and meet you guys there when I'm done."

Morgan pursed her lips and regarded Jesse a minute. "No, I think we'll both take care of Kanab, then head to the house together."

Jesse didn't move. “Why do you always have to argue with everything I say?"

Morgan smiled. “Because I'm the boss, and I get to."

Jesse smiled a little too. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that." She led Kanab into the barn and they dried him off, brushed him, put a blanket on him, and buckled it into place.

When they'd finished, they walked into the house and found Ryland in the kitchen, sticking cloves in a ham she was about to put in the oven. She pointed to some potatoes as though she'd fully expected the two women to walk in. “Jesse, wash and chop those potatoes for me, will you? Morgan, I need two onions cut into slices."