All For Anna

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All For Anna Page 11

by Deese, Nicole


  “I’m sorry, Stacie. I shouldn’t have upset you.”

  “Stop it! Stop it right now, Victoria! I am sick and tired of you trying to protect me. That’s NOT your job!” Stacie hit the steering wheel hard with the heel of her hand, “I am your big sister, and at the moment I feel like a pretty crummy one. I guess we’ve both been trying to protect each other over this last year and a half, but look where it got us? Nowhere. Starting today, I want the truth from you, no matter how painful or ugly it is. I can promise you that it will stay between us, but I can’t promise that I will always say what you hope to hear. Can you agree to that?”

  I was leaning on the arm of the passenger side door when she asked. I had only seen Stacie erupt like that a few times over the course of my childhood, but never had it been directed toward me. The reality of her words hung in the air between us like heavy smog. I had a hard time seeing through it, much less taking a breath.

  This week had been determined to choke-me-out.

  It had started that first day in Dr. Crane’s office. Dissecting the details of Anna’s death piece by piece had been brutal, but learning I was at the root of my parent’s odd behavior was just absurd. Now Stacie wanted to make an honesty pact with me?

  She doesn’t know what she’s asking for.

  “I don’t know if I can do that, Stacie.”

  She sighed and took my hand.

  “We’ll do it together, then. You’re not alone in this anymore.”

  FIFTEEN

  Sunday lunch was interesting, to say the least. My honesty pact with Stacie had come about unexpectedly, but it had also opened up a whole new set of issues. I found myself watching the way my parents interacted with each other, and with me. I was on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop at any moment.

  With each question they asked me, that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach grew. It was difficult to look them the eye. The knowledge that my absence had been difficult for them was one thing, but the fact that it was at the root of several major changes in their lives, was quite another. I tried to wrap my mind around what Stacie had said. I wondered about their counseling sessions, had their marriage been in trouble?

  It would have hurt them more if I had stayed—I did the right thing.

  During lunch, my dad gave me an update on the family business. He told me all about the new marketing plan that Stacie had been developing, and the properties my mother had recently sold. My parents were a well-known couple throughout the region, their faces on billboards all over the city.

  Sales Real Estate was definitely a household name. Their long history of success was based mostly off referrals, an old-fashioned approach in today’s economy. They had made it through the troubled years, worked tirelessly through the boom of the first-time home buyer’s era, and were now strong, steady and growing.

  Before I was accepted into nursing school, my dad had taken me to lunch. He had asked me to consider joining the family in the real estate arena, but he knew I would decline his offer. My heart had never been in business; I belonged in health care. I had known it since I was a child. Though he accepted my answer graciously, I knew he was disappointed.

  Little did he know that was just the first of many disappointments to come.

  My one recognition by the Sales Real Estate team however, was the slogan I came up with as a senior in high school, “Let the Sales guarantee your satisfaction!” My dad had beamed with pride. He had called to order new posters and signs that very day. It’d felt good to contribute, however minor. It had also eased my guilt of turning down his offer.

  If only slogan-writing could do that for me now.

  **********

  I continued to watch my parents throughout the day. They worked side by side cleaning up the lunch plates, telling us to go enjoy the pool. Neither Stacie nor I felt like swimming though, so we sat together on the deck, drinking sweet tea. Our mom joined us when she was done. She had that look on her face again, the one I couldn’t quite place. It made me uncomfortable.

  It was like she could see me—the real me, the one I had hidden from her specifically.

  She smiled and touched my hand as Stacie told us the latest update on Jack. This gesture to anyone else might seem normal, but that kind of affectionate touch was not normal for us. Stacie and Mom were that way with each other, but not Mom and me.

  Greeting hugs were one thing, but not intimacy. Intimacy meant: common ground, connection, understanding, willingness, and vulnerability. We did not have intimacy.

  My heart ached as I stood up, sliding my hand out from under her touch. I told them I needed to stretch and walk a bit. They nodded in response to me, remaining in their lounge chairs. I was grateful.

  I walked deep into the landscaped yard, finding the bridge where I had first seen Kai. I stood on its highest point, leaning over to stare down at the koi fish below.

  Their brightly colored scales were hypnotizing as I watched them swim. I could stand on this bridge for hours watching them, thinking. This bridge was a great spot to seek peace and serenity—not that I really believed in either of those things anymore. I heard footsteps approaching as my dad found me. He leaned onto his elbows, peering over the wooden rail beside me.

  My dad was a calm man, relaxed in manner, but strong in principle. Even the most difficult workday ceased to bring him stress, he simply didn’t believe in it. We stood silently for a few minutes, mesmerized by the beautiful scenery around us.

  “Do you know that you’re one of only two people who really appreciates this little spot out here? Mom was gonna have me fill it in last year and move the fish to the pond on the other side of the house, but I remembered you loved this spot,” he said, still gazing downward.

  “Yeah, it’s a great spot. I’m glad you kept it,” I said.

  “Darlin’, I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re home. I know you hate the gushy stuff, so I’ll keep it short. It just feels so good to see your face again. Thanks for coming to church this morning, too. What did ya think of that? Pretty different, huh?”

  His eyes sparkled in wonder as he spoke, as if this church conversation was actually exciting to him.

  Weird.

  “Uh...well, yeah it was different. I hope you aren’t expecting me to make a habit out of going though, Dad.”

  “Oh Tori, hold your horses. No need to get defensive on me. I’m just asking a simple question. Your mom and I have discovered a lot in the short time we’ve been attending there. We just wanted to share it with you,” my dad interrupted, never getting above a firm whisper.

  “Yeah, I keep hearing that, Dad,” I said sarcastically.

  “Ya know, pumpkin, it sounds like you have some stuff to sort out with God.”

  His body still faced the pond. Though his eyes were still focused on the water below, I felt smothered.

  “No Dad, I really don’t. It’s pretty well sorted out already,” I said.

  “There are only two paths we can be on with God: moving forward or moving away.”

  I didn’t speak. The words in my head were too hard and angry to be directed toward my father. My battle wasn’t with him. I tried to remind myself of that.

  “With either, heartache will still come. It’s not life’s circumstances that separate the two paths…it’s the ability to hope. That’s the game-changer, sweetheart.”

  Hope?

  “Come on. Let’s get back to the house. I think Stacie might be ready to head home for her afternoon nap.”

  We walked close to each other, my dad’s hand on my shoulder nearest him. Before he slid the glass door open, I remembered a question from earlier.

  “Dad? Who’s the other person that loves my spot at the bridge?”

  His eyes twinkled mischievously as he grinned.

  “I believe you’ve already been formally introduced to him. It’s Kai Alesana.”

  **********

  Kai’s call didn’t come until Tuesday afternoon.

  Although I tried to pre
tend I wasn’t waiting for it, the amount of times I had checked my phone during the last twenty-four hours was embarrassing. His voice was confident, yet kind as we talked.

  I could hear plenty of male voices in the background, yet he never diverted his attention. He confirmed the time for Thursday’s dinner and my stomach rolled in anticipation. I couldn’t even imagine how good Kai would look in formal wear. That thought brought yet another dip in my stomach.

  What were his expectations for me?

  **********

  After a long run to prepare my mind for my upcoming session with Dr. Crane, I left for work. Stacie had asked why I was going in so much earlier than my scheduled shift, but I didn’t tell her. The words were not ready to be said.

  I had planned to tell her about my therapy, yet there was something stopping me that I just couldn’t get past. If I admitted it to her, then there would be no going back. It would all be real then. I wasn’t quite ready to give up the safety of my denial.

  I would tell her though, in my own way and time. Because of that, it didn’t count as a breech in our honesty pact. Of that, I was convinced.

  **********

  Dr. Crane seemed to be a very pleasant mood when I arrived at her office. She offered me a bottled water as I sat on the hard leather sofa. She smiled as she held my file on her lap, yet she made no move to open it. Instead, she observed me.

  I felt like I was being graded on a test I hadn’t even taken yet.

  “Tori, how have the last few days been for you?”

  This was the first time she had asked me about present-day Tori. I was intrigued.

  “Pretty good, I guess,” I said, straightening my shirt.

  “That’s good to hear. I’d like to ask you how your assignment went. Did you find someone to connect with?” she probed.

  Uh, I’d say so.

  I’m like a professional connecting machine now.

  “Yes, definitely,” I said with confidence.

  Maybe getting fixed would be much easier than I thought it would be. Although, I couldn’t figure out how this idea of connecting with people would help with my flashbacks. But hey, she was the expert, who was I to question her tactics?

  “Can you tell me about it?” she asked.

  She sat back, making herself comfortable as she picked up her sweet tea. Apparently she thought she was in for a long story. I cleared my throat.

  Who do I start with, my parents, Stacie, or Kai?

  Gosh, I really am a connecting machine!

  I launched into the story of the lake day with Kai, then dinner with my mom and Stacie, and finally, my visit at my parent’s house. I looked around the room as I recounted the facts of the weekend. Pride filled my chest like a balloon as I spoke. At the end I took a deep breath and waited for her praises.

  A second later however, my pride balloon popped. Her expression lacked the enthusiasm I had expected from her. There was no standing ovation for my great efforts, instead I saw only the narrowing of eyes and a head tilt.

  Nothing good ever came from a head tilt like that.

  Did she not hear all my connecting? I did exactly what she asked of me!

  “Tori, in no way do I want to discourage you. It sounds like you made some great social strides over the last few days. In comparison to what I assume was a fairly anti-social year in Phoenix, what you shared definitely shows some progress. However, in all of your recounting, I never heard any real conversation from you.”

  Seriously?

  I had loads of conversations! Was she not listening to me at all?

  I scowled. “I don’t understand what you’re calling real conversation, Dr. Crane. I had plenty of conversations! I am exhausted just from thinking about them all!” I said.

  She took a deep breath. “Tori, please remember I am on your side. I am only trying to help you. This exercise wasn’t about filling time with social activities; it was about letting someone in. Real connection happens when we share ourselves with someone, when we allow real vulnerability and authenticity in our conversations. Even if you can only let your guard a little at first, that is how it starts,” she said leaning forward in her chair and staring at me intently. “It’s about letting someone reach you, that part of you that’s been closed off for the last year and a half. It sounds like you could get there with your sister if you pushed yourself a bit more.”

  I sat thinking about the conversation Stacie and I had had in the driveway of our parent’s house. If that was the closest I had come to this connecting thing, then I was way out of my league. My talk with Stacie had been very uncomfortable for sure, but the truth was, that wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg.

  Could I really share all of me: my thoughts, my shame, my fears, my insecurities?

  Could I do it the sake of sanity?

  Could I do it for the sake of honoring Anna?

  “I’m sure this is a lot to take in. It’s normal to have fear, Victoria. It plays a big role in how we learn to be open and vulnerable after a tragedy occurs. This idea of sharing and connecting may seem pointless to you, but it’s what will ultimately begin your healing. It will take some time, but your loved ones—the people you can trust—are the key to working through your PTSD. They are the ones who will help expose the dark places in your mind and bring them out into the light.”

  “And what if I don’t want to bring them out?”

  “Then they will continue to grow darker. They’ll start to seep into the other compartments of your life. Let me ask you, Victoria, are the flashbacks you experience always the same? Is it just one scene, or have they expanded into multiple scenes?”

  The chill that went through my body was enough cause for me to shiver. The flashbacks had started a week after my accident. Originally, it was just one single image of Anna in my arms that would hold steady in my mind. Now though, it was a slew of memories.

  My flashback while on the Jet Ski was evidence enough that she was right. This train wasn’t going to stop on its own; its destination had to be the equivalent of Hell.

  “Multiple. And they’ve been happening...more often,” I said, looking at the floor. I hesitated to make eye contact with her after such a confession. I felt more broken just by admitting it.

  “I see. I have some literature I’d like to send home with you, Victoria. For a nurse such as yourself, I think you’ll find it very informative. It deals more with how the brain functions under stress and duress. It might help to educate yourself as we continue processing this from the inside out,” Dr. Crane said.

  “Okay, I’ll read it.”

  “Before you leave here today, there are two questions I want to ask you to think about for our next session: what is the common denominator in your flashbacks? And what feeling can you identify in them?”

  When she was done speaking, she leaned forward in her chair and reached her hand out to me. It hovered in the space between us. I stared at it.

  I felt weak.

  The overpowering pull was back, calling me a fool. It was ludicrous for me to hope I could be anything more than the woman that had killed a child—the woman that had ruined a family. The dominant voice of resistance pulsed through my body. Every beat of my heart was begging me to leave, to walk out and never come back. I needed to exit this office and leave Dr. Crane and her therapy discussions behind. If I could just bury the pain back down it would all be over.

  It would all be over and I would be…safe.

  But something stopped me.

  It was something small—yet fierce—that rose inside me. My fingers reached across the gap and met hers with a grip that surprised me. She held my hand tightly while laying her free hand on top, sealing me in.

  “You will recover, Victoria. You will learn to process through this pain and regain your mind again. You will be free again to think and feel. You’re not too lost and you’re not too far gone. I know you don’t trust me yet, but I believe you can trust in the science if you commit to understanding it. I’m here for you day o
r night. Call me when you learn your schedule next week.”

  **********

  Fatigue worked through my body, even in the midst of a very full and demanding twelve-hour shift. There was never a dull moment or break that took me away from the hustle and bustle of the ER. My mind though, was somewhere else.

  I couldn’t shake the feeling that deception was feeding on my reality and robbing me blind, yet I couldn’t pin-point where or how it was happening. I was anxious to study the books and print outs that Dr. Crane had provided me. That was one thing I could do; I could study. If there was an answer then surely it would be in science.

  I could stake my life on that alone.

  I tried to step quietly as I felt my way up the dark staircase. It was well past midnight when I arrived back at Stacie’s house. My normal routine of showering after work and getting into pjs was dismissed as my body fell flat onto my bed. I heard a slight crunch underneath my shoulder as I made contact with the comforter. I lifted the small piece of paper up into the light of my cell phone.

  Tori-

  Can’t wait to show you what I found today! Your outfit for tomorrow will be smokin’ hot, yet gracefully elegant. I have it all planned out.

  Sweet dreams...hope they’re of the Firemen’s Ball!

  Stacie

  Though my eyes were closed, my mind was now fully engaged with the promise of Thursday evening.

  I would see Kai again.

  I fell asleep while thinking only of that.

  SIXTEEN

  I woke to find a text from Kai on my phone.

  Kai: Looking forward to seeing you tonight.

  Though I told myself it was foolish to get nervous, my body had a mind of its own. Waves of anxiety filled me from head to toe. I could hear Stacie stirring in her room and decided before the fashion preparations were unleashed that I needed to run. I slipped my shoes and quietly headed out the front door.

 

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