by L. G. McCary
Tori disappears out into the normal world, and I fiddle with my purse again to avoid looking at anyone. I don’t know why I’m so flattered that she invited me. Tori does that with everyone. She’s on the greeting team in the morning, and she helps in the nursery all the time. I remember Renee joking that she’s everywhere at once.
“Charlotte?” Darren is standing in the hallway ahead of me. “I’m ready when you are.”
The walk down the hallway seems to take longer than it should, and I almost chicken out. I want to go home, but I step through the doorway into his office. He shuts the door and gestures to two chairs opposite the desk. Darren’s office is simple, but I notice it has that unusual quiet of extra insulation.
“Would you like some water?” he asks, adjusting the collar of his blue polo shirt. His dark mustache and thinning hair make him seem almost grandfatherly.
“Yes, thank you.”
He hands me a bottle of water from a box behind his chair as he sits across from me.
“So. What would you like to get out of this appointment?”
“I guess I need help.”
“Is there something specific?”
I examine my fingernails. “David thinks I need help.”
“Do you think you need help?” He folds his hands in his lap and leans back into the chair.
“I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t like talking about myself.”
“Is that what you think you’ll be doing?”
“I guess.” I pick at a hangnail. I feel like I’m in an interrogation room, just waiting for him to shove a lamp in my face to get a confession.
“You know, you are not the first person to be nervous about seeing me,” he says. He walks over to the desk. He pulls out a Bible from a drawer.
“It is hard to trust someone enough to open up, especially in church. We all have holy faces we wear on Sunday. I know I do.” He looks back at me. “We don’t want anyone to see that we are hurting. Because godly people don’t have problems, right?” He opens the Bible to a page that looks well worn and hands it to me.
“Read verse nine out loud.” He has handed me the first chapter of Ecclesiastes.
“What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun,” I read, my voice breaking.
“Charlotte, there is nothing new under the sun. I’m here to listen, to pray with you, and to be an objective voice for you. Godly people do have difficulties and pain and suffering, and we all need help sometimes. And if it’s something where you need medication, I work with several Christian psychiatrists for referrals.”
“I don’t want to take any medicine,” I say quickly. “Side effects and stuff. I just don’t want to.”
“I have lots of options that don’t involve medicine, depending on what your concerns are,” he says, leaning forward with open hands.
I don’t think people who see shadows move are the kind who show up in this office. Maybe if I tell him my other “symptoms,” he can help with those. It won’t be lying, right?
“I’m having a hard time sleeping.” It’s the truth.
“How long have you had a hard time sleeping?”
“A long time.”
“Can you point to a time when it started to bother you?”
“I guess about a year ago,” I lie. “Rylie was sleeping through the night, but I still couldn’t.”
“So she isn’t waking up, but you’re still waking up?”
“I can’t fall asleep. And I wake up all the time.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“I’m scared.” It comes out before I can stop it. But I am. I’m terrified. I can’t tell him what I’m terrified of. He sits in his chair with his hands folded in his lap, waiting for me to continue. The silence is oppressive. “I’m scared of everything.”
“You’re feeling anxious.”
“Yes. I can’t go to sleep like that. I feel like...” Maybe it wouldn’t give me away to say this. “I feel like someone is watching me.”
“Like who is watching you?”
“I don’t know.” Truth. I have no idea who the figure is, or if it is anyone.
“You feel like someone is watching you.”
“That sounds crazy,” I say.
“Why do you think that sounds crazy?”
“Because who would be watching me? It’s ridiculous.”
“Tell me about that feeling.”
“It’s horrible.” I wait for him to respond, but he is content to listen. “I hate it. I’m scared something bad will happen and that someone is waiting for me to mess up. It’s making me nervous just sitting here talking about it.”
“It sounds overwhelming.”
“Yes. It makes it impossible to sleep.”
“What kinds of thoughts go through your head when you can’t sleep?”
And now I know I have to lie. He’s going to ask me questions I can’t answer.
“It’s like if I sleep, something awful will happen. I don’t know what. Just something awful.”
“Do you think about Rylie?”
“Sometimes.” I think about shadows that move when they shouldn’t and how I’m going crazy. Why does he have to ask me all these questions? “I don’t want her to be afraid too.”
He smiles and nods. “How old is Rylie now?”
“Two and a half.”
“Wow, she’s getting big.”
“Yes, she’s growing every day. She talks constantly now.”
“What does she talk about?”
“Dancing. She wants to be a ballerina. Or a pirate. A dancing pirate.” I giggle despite the lump in my throat.
“A dancing pirate. That’s very creative.” Darren grins. “Can I make you aware of something? You’re happy talking about her. You are smiling, and you sat up when you said that. Your body language completely changed.”
I slump a little.
“Do you feel happy most of the time with her?”
“I think so.” Is that true? I think it’s true.
“But you are still scared of something, and I sense from what you’ve said that this has been a problem for awhile. Maybe since Rylie was born?” How did he know that?
“Yes.”
“Do you remember me coming to see you when you were in the hospital?”
“Yes.”
“I’d like to talk about that for a minute. Can we do that?”
“I guess.”
“Can you tell me what happened when Rylie was born?”
“I had a placental abruption. I was bleeding out.” I hate telling this story. “They took me in an ambulance. It was horrible.”
“I’m sure it was,” he says.
“It was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” I focus on the floor and try not to cry.
“You must have been terrified.”
“I felt myself dying.”
“Do you still remember what that feels like?”
“Yes.”
He watches me, his hands clasped in his lap.
“Has that feeling ever gone away?”
Until he spoke the sentence, I would have said no. Now I see it in everything. That fear has seeped over every part of my life. I am cloaked in its shadow. Have I ever been able to enjoy my daughter? Have I ever been joyful with her?
“No. I didn’t think about it, but it never has,” I answer. “I’m so scared Rylie will get hurt or lost or something bad will happen to her. And me.”
“Is that the same feeling that you get when you try to sleep?”
I nod, because I can’t stop crying.
“It’s making you anxious right now, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It’s been that way ever since Rylie was born. It’s like there’s a bomb, except I can’t see the timer, and I don’t know when it’s going to go off.”
The longer I think about it, the thicker that cloak of fear becomes. It all makes sense. The tears spill over. Renee has called me overprotective, bu
t it’s more than that.
“I didn’t realize. I didn’t see how bad...” It’s too hard to speak. All the moments where I’ve thought I was seeing things fill my mind, and I can see how silly they are. I’m always on alert for something that wants to hurt me, but there’s nothing there. Those stupid pieces of play pizza in the kitchen and the shadows on the walls in Rylie’s room were just normal, everyday things. “No wonder I can’t sleep.” I wipe my eyes and lean forward. “How do I stop it? How do I stop being afraid?”
“I think that will take some time, and we’ll want to keep talking about it. But we should start with 2 Timothy 1:7.”
“God did not give us a spirit of fear...” I look away from him self-consciously. “I learned it in Sunday school when I was little.”
“Then finish it.”
“But of power, love, and of a sound mind.”
“Let’s grip tight to that, okay? Power, love, and a sound mind. That’s what He wants to give you. I’d like you to meditate on that verse. Put it on your bathroom mirror or the sink in the kitchen. Keep it close. Say it to yourself often.” He stands and rummages in his desk. “On the practical side, I have some suggestions that might help you sleep.”
He gives me some handouts about sleep hygiene, which is a thing, apparently. Then he teaches me a calming breathing pattern that seems like it could help. He suggests supplementing with melatonin. That’s better than telling me to take one of those sleeping pills that can make you act crazy. The suggestions are good, but I’m overwhelmed. This fear has consumed me. How can I get out from under this? He catches my eye again and smiles.
“You were hoping to fix it all right away, weren’t you?” he says. “I can’t tap you on the head with a magic wand and make everything better. I wish I could. Sometimes God sweeps in and miraculously heals, but more often, He works slowly.”
Nine
“Charlotte, hi!” Tori says, waving at me as I walk into Sunday school. Her blonde hair falls in soft beach waves, and she has a new pale pink manicure since I saw her on Wednesday. It seems like there is an extra weight to her voice. Am I imagining it?
“Good morning,” I say around the lump in my throat.
She sent me a text message with the women’s Bible study information after she saw me at Darren’s office, but seeing her in person is different. Her smile is genuine, and the hug she gives me is strong and friendly.
“Where’s your hubby?” she asks, gesturing for me to follow her to the front row.
“Seattle,” I say.
“I’ve always wanted to visit Seattle!” She pats the chair next to her.
I hate the front row, but I sit because I don’t want to hurt her feelings. “I guess Greg is working, too?”
“Yes, every week, it seems like.”
I feel exposed with my back to everyone else. She fetches us both cups of coffee, and I wonder as I stir in the sugar and creamer why we haven’t spent more time together before now.
“Charlotte, you’re actually here!” Renee says as she walks in. She grins deviously, her brown messy bun bobbing with her steps. “I’m going to sign you up to bring donuts so you have to come next Sunday, too. Hi, Tori!”
“Missile go to nursery okay?” Tori asks as she hugs Renee.
“Ugh, I don’t want to talk about it,” Renee says. “So you’re abandoning me and Morgan, Charlotte?”
“Um…” I can’t think of anything to say. I’m never sure if Renee is joking or serious.
“She’s been promoted to the fabulous row,” Tori says, gesturing to the two of us. “There are rules, you know. On Sundays, we wear pink!”
She points to my skirt, and I laugh. My flouncy pink skirt and floral blouse match her pale pink jumpsuit. She still looks much more put together with her manicured nails and floral sandals.
“I didn’t know this row was exclusive,” Renee says with mock offense.
“Very,” Tori says. “Invitation only.”
I laugh and push my hair back from my face. The memory of Darren’s office feels like a cloud hanging over me as Renee complains that she hates pink.
Tori would have to admit to being at Darren’s office herself to talk about it, so maybe she’ll keep quiet. I silently pray she won’t mention it. I don’t want to explain myself to Renee. Or anyone.
“Maybe you can get Charlotte to actually talk in class,” Renee says, poking me in the shoulder.
“Prayer requests! What’s going on in everyone’s life this week?” Larry announces before taking a bite of a jelly donut.
Renee sits down a row away with Casey, Morgan, and Morgan’s husband. Tori elbows me, and I stiffen. Is she expecting me to ask for prayer seeing Darren?
She holds up her coffee cup and points for me to do the same.
“To pink,” she whispers and taps her paper cup against mine.
“To pink,” I whisper back. The knot in my chest feels a little looser.
I wait for a bomb to drop, but Tori doesn’t say a word during prayer requests. The knot loosens further, and I lean back into my chair.
“Charlotte, I see you’re alone this week,” Larry says. “Is David on a trip?”
“Yes, he’s in Seattle eating lots of fish and chips and trying out every coffee shop he can find.”
Tori leans toward me. “Gross,” she whispers. “I hate fish.”
“Me too. That’s why he’s eating it far away from me.”
“Are you free for lunch today?” she asks. “We can go somewhere Greg and David wouldn’t like.”
“That would be fun!”
“It’s a date then.”
Larry clears his throat. “Do I need to separate you two?”
“Don’t interrupt,” Tori declares with a dismissive wave of her hand. “We’re bonding over a mutual hatred of fish.”
“You’re both going to hate the lesson,” Casey says from behind his coffee cup. “It’s Jesus feeding the five thousand.”
Tori swoons in horror. “Fish! We would starve!”
“No, we could fill up on bread,” I laugh. Who am I right now, laughing and joking with my class? It feels good, like I’ve set down a heavy backpack at the end of a hike.
“It’s too bad that kid didn’t have lasagna or something,” Larry says with a grin. “That’s the version from the Message Bible: Jesus feeds the five thousand with never-ending trays of lasagna.”
The joke brings the house down, and we finally start the lesson. Putting Rylie in the nursery usually makes me sick, but the nausea hasn’t come today. I wonder if it is Darren’s advice or Tori’s one-liners. Either way, I enjoyed myself. Tori and I agree to meet at a restaurant with a playground, and I head to the nursery to grab Rylie. My girl has fallen asleep in the teacher’s arms. She barely stirs while I carry her to the car, but she rears back when I set her in the car seat.
“Mama!” She scrubs her eyes with her fists and pulls at the elastic holding her soft curls out of her face.
“You woke up!” I say to my sleepy toddler. “Are you hungry?”
She launches into her usual toddler rant about the unfairness of life. I even understand a few words. Mostly “no,” “nap,” and “chicken nuggets.” The drive to the restaurant is all excited chatter about chicken nuggets and Daddy coming home.
“Hi!” she screeches through the window when she sees Tori waiting for us.
“Miss Rylie, did you have fun this morning?”
Rylie hugs Tori’s legs and babbles as we head inside and order lunch. She gets her beloved chicken nuggets and proceeds to tell the entire restaurant about them at the top of her lungs. She is so loud. I wish she could sit quietly for a few moments and eat without having to tell the world about it. It feels like everyone’s eyes are on us, and I want to hide under the table.
“She’s adorable, Charlotte. No one cares,” Tori says with a smile. My discomfort must be written on my face.
“I’m sorry she’s so loud.”
Tori winks. “You should see Liana.”
/> “Ha! Yes, Liana comes over a lot.”
“Does she sing for you?”
“Of course.”
“I sing!” says Rylie. “I’m a teapot short and tout. Here my humble! Here my pout!”
Tori sings along with Rylie and convinces her to finish her food while I eat my own. I finally let Rylie run into the play area and watch her through the window. She tosses her church shoes into a cubby, and I wince as her white tights hit the gray playroom floor. Those will need stain remover as soon as we get home.
“You’re a great mom, Charlotte,” Tori says, interrupting my laundry concerns.
“Oh, I don’t know about that.”
“You are. Take the compliment with a smile, lady,” she says with a tone of giving orders. “So tell me about yourself! We’ve never really gotten to talk, have we?”
“No, we haven’t,” I say.
I’m not sure what to say. I’m too distracted by Rylie climbing the stairs. Tori sits forward and sips her iced tea. I feel so scatterbrained right now. I’ve never been good at introducing myself to people.
“How about I start?” she says, taking a sip of her tea. “I came here for college at Northern because I wanted a Christian school.”
“What was your major?” I ask.
“Marketing with a minor in fashion design.”
“That explains why you always look amazing.”
“You’re a sweetheart.” She flips her hair back from her face with a grin. “Anyway, I was saved in high school, and I wanted to go to college somewhere that would help me grow. Rylie is up in the airplane,” she interrupts herself, following my eyes in the busy play place.
“Sorry,” I say. I feel my cheeks burning. I’m just waiting for Rylie to fall or hit another kid or do something where I have to take her back home. “I can’t turn off the mom radar.”
“Does she ever sit still?”
“When she’s sleeping.”
Tori laughs and leans back against the booth. “So, where was I? I met Greg in the college group, and we dated for a little while. First relationship I ever had with a Christian guy, and I ended up marrying him!”