“Because you help people,” Emma added.
“There are lots of ways to help people. I just do it this way because I like it.” She smiled at her niece.
“I think I’d like it too.” Whitney wanted to leave the door open for Emma to choose the right path for herself. She’d been through so much, and when she was ready for school, Whitney thought it was important that Emma pursue a path that excited her.
“Bailey and Amy think you’ll be ready to start in September.” That would be almost fourteen months after the accident, which was roughly what they had predicted initially, that her recovery would take at least one to two years, maybe longer, but she had made good progress. Belinda was still coming to work with her on her reading twice a week, and it had been slow going. Emma was having a much harder time learning to read again than she’d had at five when Paige taught her. It seemed harder to get going again, and sometimes her brain just wouldn’t cooperate. It was frustrating for Emma. Sam wasn’t coming to teach them sign language anymore now that Emma could speak again, but he and Belinda were seeing each other. Emma liked playing around with sign language now. She treated it like a game when she didn’t want to speak, or didn’t want people to know what she was saying to Brett or Whitney.
Whitney talked to Belinda about what she thought of the possibility of Emma going to normal school, and if she’d be ready for it in the fall.
“I think she could manage it,” Belinda said cautiously. “She still has memory issues, and she’s having trouble reading. She gets burned out very quickly, which never used to happen. She could study a script for hours and never lose her concentration. It’s a lot harder for her now. But maybe by September she’ll be ready.” It was still five months away, lots of time for Emma to work on her reading and brush up on math, which she seemed to have forgotten completely.
“What grade do you think we should apply for?” Whitney asked, concerned.
“She’ll be ten by the time she starts school in the fall,” Belinda said thoughtfully, “normally that would be fifth grade. A year ago, I’d have said it was no problem. Now, I think you’d be looking at third or fourth, since the accident. And you’re going to need a school that will give her accommodations and take the brain injury into account. You can’t have normal expectations for her, not even in five months.” Whitney nodded. It made sense to her too.
She started looking up schools on the Internet a few days later. Her inquiries were delicate. She explained the circumstances of the accident to the admissions directors, and most of the schools she called said they weren’t equipped to teach a child who had suffered a frontal lobe brain injury or had special needs to such an extreme degree. Eventually, she found three schools that were willing to meet her, and if the conversations went well, she would take Emma to see them, and for some testing, but they made no promises as to whether they would take her or not. Some seemed gun-shy about providing tutoring and accommodations, and Whitney didn’t want to put her in a special school for brain injured kids. She thought Emma could manage a mainstream school, with Belinda to help prepare her, and maybe tutoring later if necessary. She had always been so bright and done so well in school that it was hard to believe she wouldn’t now, and Bailey gently reminded her that a brain injury changed things, and she might have learning difficulties forever. Her personality could even remain altered and subtly different. That was common too.
“Will she ever be normal again?” she asked him with a look of frustration.
“Maybe. But a lot of things change, Whitney. She could have learning disabilities, or react differently than she did before.” Whitney had already noticed that Emma was more serious now, but she’d been in an accident, a coma, the ICU for two months, and lost her mother. It was obvious that she’d be serious after all that. Bailey had explained that a frontal lobe injury could alter personality, memory, ability to learn, change her IQ, and cause psychiatric problems. It seemed so unfair to Whitney. Why did Emma have to pay the price of all that because her mother had been texting and driving? Whitney had to force herself not to be angry at Paige all over again. What was she thinking? Or why wasn’t she thinking? She should have been if it was going to impact the rest of Emma’s life. But at least she was alive, hearing, and speaking again, and some of her memory had come back, even if it was far from perfect. And there was no point being angry at Paige, it wouldn’t change a thing. They had to look at the future and leave the past behind.
* * *
—
Whitney made appointments at the three schools, and didn’t say anything to Emma. She didn’t want her to be disappointed if they didn’t think she’d be a match with the school after meeting with Whitney, or if Whitney didn’t want her to apply. Two of the schools were well-known private schools and the person she spoke with on the phone had sounded somewhat pretentious but had agreed to meet her. The third school was also private but more alternative, sounded more creative, and was much smaller. Whitney felt as though she were applying herself when she went to see them. And for Emma’s sake, she had to get the decision right. Her future academic life was at stake here.
The first two made it clear to her that by the time Emma would start classes in the fall, they expected her to be up to speed and caught up on English and math work, even if she needed some remedial work later, which sounded challenging and like a lot of pressure to Whitney. The third school was willing to design a curriculum for Emma, at the level she would be in the fall, with different levels for different subjects, and they were prepared to help her catch up, as needed. They thought it interesting that she had gone to school on the set for two years before the accident. And they were optimistic that they’d be able to bring her up to speed in all subjects in the course of the school year. They had another student similar to Emma who had nearly died of meningitis and missed a year of school, after suffering a stroke and being in a coma for three months at fourteen. She didn’t have a brain injury, but she had memory lapses too. The school seemed ideal to Whitney, and she told Emma about it that night. There were only a hundred and ten students in the school, and the classes were very small. They were willing to offer Emma a place, and wanted to evaluate her in May or June. They suggested she work on her reading until then.
“Do you think I can do it, Whit?” Emma asked her, panicked, when Whitney told her about the school.
“I think you can. You’ll have to do your speech therapy, and work with Belinda on reading and math, but she said she’d help you.”
“What if they think I’m stupid?” She had tears in her eyes when she said it. She knew she was different now.
“They won’t. You’re not stupid. You’ve been sick for almost a year. You have a brain injury. But they’re going to accommodate you, and I think you’ll be able to catch up.”
“Maybe I should stick with tutors,” Emma said, looking nervous.
“I think it would be more fun for you to be in school with other kids, don’t you? You’ll be lonely if you’re just tutored at home.” Emma nodded. It was why she wanted to go to school, but she was scared too. “Why don’t you try it?” Emma wanted to, she just didn’t see how she could do it. And when she got nervous, sometimes she still had trouble speaking, or would forget her words entirely for a while.
“Why don’t we do something fun to take the pressure off? You can work with Belinda. But why don’t you and I take some kind of classes? Dance lessons, or singing, something we can do together.” It seemed like a good distraction, and she could see that Emma liked the idea as soon as she suggested it.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Swimming? Cooking? A dance class?” Emma had forgotten how to swim too, and Whitney wanted her to learn before the summer, so she’d be safe around their pool. She didn’t want her to drown if she fell in. She had heard too many horror stories about kids who couldn’t swim, like Bailey’s brother.
“What about tap?” Emma s
uggested. “I’ve always wanted to take it.” Whitney knew she’d taken it for several years, but it was obvious Emma didn’t remember. It didn’t matter if she took it again, as long as she enjoyed it. Swimming would be more useful, but she could do that too.
“I’ll check it out,” Whitney promised, and called a dance studio on the way to Malibu that offered tap lessons. The traffic would be awful, but they were nice on the phone, and Whitney signed them both up for a beginner’s class, which she needed and Emma didn’t. It sounded like fun, and Whitney thought it would be good exercise for both of them and a good mother-daughter-type activity. Their first class was the following week.
* * *
—
It took Whitney half an hour to get Emma settled in the car before the dance class. She was always tense and looked panicked whenever they had to drive anywhere. Whitney had medication to give her to calm her down, but taking a sedative before the dance class was liable to knock her out, which seemed pointless, and she was sure that Emma would relax once they got there. She was silent on the ride, and her whole body looked tense when Whitney glanced at her in the rearview mirror. She didn’t want her to have an anxiety attack when they got there.
Whitney signed in at the desk when they arrived, and a small, lively, energetic woman in a leotard and tap shoes wrote their names down on a list and confirmed that neither of them had taken tap before. Whitney didn’t correct the impression that Emma had never taken tap. It didn’t seem important. They changed into leotards in the dressing room, and the teacher had shoes for them to borrow until they got their own.
There were four women and two teenage girls in the class, and the teacher gave a brief demonstration when they started, then showed them each a simple step, and put on some music. Emma was already giggling, and Whitney was trying to remember the step. They were each supposed to take turns showing the teacher what they could do. Whitney felt ridiculous as she tried to get it right, but she managed to get through it, and then it was Emma’s turn, and she gracefully spun herself around, and then stopped herself and instantly launched into a professional dance routine that looked like Fred Astaire as the teacher stared at her. Emma flew through the air, tapped her heart out, did a little pirouette, and landed on both feet with perfect precision at the end of the routine. The look on the teacher’s face was almost comical, and it was obvious that Emma had taken lessons before, Whitney knew she just hadn’t remembered them.
“You’ve never taken tap before?” the teacher asked her in disbelief, and Emma looked puzzled for a minute.
“I don’t remember it, but now that I’m here, I think maybe I might have.” She grinned sheepishly at her aunt, who was trying not to laugh. Emma’s mind did not remember, but her body and her feet very certainly did. The teacher let her stay in the class, but she suggested an advanced class for Emma the next time.
“I think she thought I was lying to her,” Emma said, looking more relaxed as they walked back to Whitney’s car in the parking lot after the class. “I guess Mom made me take tap,” she added with a grin, still trying to remember.
“And hip-hop and modern dance and ballet,” Whitney added for her.
“She made me take all that?”
Whitney nodded.
“Was I any good at it?” She smiled at her aunt.
“Probably about the way you were today. You’re a pro, Em.” She laughed when Whitney said it.
“How come I don’t remember?”
“You will one day,” Whitney reassured her. “It will all come back eventually.”
“Maybe I’ll take ballet too,” she said pensively as Whitney watched her put her seatbelt on. She didn’t start the car until she had, and then they drove back to Beverly Hills, as they chatted and laughed about the look on the teacher’s face, when Emma did a tap dance that put the teacher to shame. “I wish everything else were as easy,” Emma said with a sigh. “I’m terrible at math, and reading is hard for me. Belinda says I used to remember my lines with one reading.”
“You’ll probably be able to do it again one day.” Emma nodded in answer, and sat staring out the window at the Pacific Ocean. Her mind was a million miles away as Whitney drove them home. Whitney wondered if she was thinking about her mother, but she didn’t want to ask. By the time they got back to Beverly Hills, Emma was sound asleep. She’d had a good time tap dancing, but she still tired easily. She went to bed right after dinner that night, and barely ate. The dance routine, the drive, and the class had worn her out.
She was already in bed when Bailey dropped by to see Whitney. Whitney made him something to eat, and they sat at the kitchen table and talked for a long time.
“What did you do today?” he asked after he kissed her. He loved spending time with her and dropping by in the evening. She told him about the tap-dancing lesson and he laughed.
“It bothers her when she can’t remember things,” Whitney said, and he nodded. And she still didn’t remember the accident, if she’d even seen more of it, like the truck bearing down on them, but Whitney never pushed her about it. When the memory finally surfaced, it would be traumatic. All she remembered now was her mother texting, and nothing after that.
“She’s come a long way,” Bailey said, “and some of it may never come back.”
“She says she doesn’t want to go back to acting. She wants to be a doctor like us.” He smiled when she said it.
“Some days I’d rather be an actor,” he teased her, and Whitney laughed.
“Me too.” She was seeing her full load of patients again but only working four days a week, so she had more time to spend with Emma.
“Have you thought about the summer at all?” he asked her. He was planning to take time off and wanted to spend it with her. But she was still living day to day with Emma’s recovery.
“I’m thinking a house in Tahoe might be fun,” she said, and he nodded. They had made no official plans, but were spending more and more time together, on weekends and in the evenings, and he was wonderful with Emma.
“Can I come up and visit you?” he asked shyly, and Whitney smiled at him.
“I think that could be arranged,” she teased him.
“So, no trip to Italy this year?” He hoped there wouldn’t be, but didn’t want to say so. She shook her head, looking serious.
“I don’t want to go that far away with Emma, in case she has any problems. Tahoe is far enough.” And there was no question of her going on the boat with Chad again.
“She should be fine to go to Tahoe by then,” he said, and then pulled Whitney gently into his arms and kissed her. He wanted to spend more time with her, but it was awkward with Emma around all the time, and Whitney didn’t want to leave her. She hadn’t left her for a single night since July, but she was hungry to spend more time with Bailey too.
“Now I understand why my sister had no love life most of the time. How do people manage it with kids?” she said, and he laughed.
“That’s why I never had any.”
“Yeah, me too.” They were kissing like two teenagers, and she would have liked to sneak him upstairs to her bedroom, but she didn’t dare. What if Emma woke up or had a bad dream? She didn’t want Emma to find Bailey in her bedroom. At least the night terrors had ended when she started speaking, and she hadn’t been aggressive since then either. Being able to talk again had made everything easier.
He finally left around eleven o’clock, and they lingered at the front door, kissing for a long time.
“Maybe I should come to your office between patients,” he teased her, and she laughed.
“We’ll figure it out one of these days,” she whispered, but it made the anticipation sweeter. It was a problem she’d never had before, since she’d lived alone. She waved as he drove away, locked the front door, turned off the lights, and went upstairs. She stood in the doorway of Emma’s bedroom. She looked so
sweet and peaceful. No one would have guessed that she’d had a brain injury and had nearly died nine months before. Then Whitney went back to her bedroom, thinking of Bailey. She was so attracted to him, but she was afraid too. He was the kind of person who was going to want more than just a casual relationship, and her old demons still haunted her at times. She didn’t want anyone controlling her life, or taking over. She loved the idea of spending time with him, and even sleeping with him, but she didn’t want anyone to run her life, or tell her what to do. She had promised herself never to let that happen, and if she opened her heart to Bailey, who knew what he would want? Letting someone else run her life was the one thing she knew she could never do. She was never going to let any man control her, the way her father had her mother. For now she was still safe. But for how long, if she got involved with Bailey? Maybe letting herself fall in love with him would spoil everything, especially now with Emma. No matter how much she liked him, and was attracted to him, she was afraid to take the risk. It was easier to be brave for Emma than for Bailey. And in some ways, having Emma around all the time kept Whitney safe.
Chapter 12
Little by little, Whitney was trying to ease Emma into the kind of things that ordinary people did. They went to the grocery store, the dry cleaner, the hardware store, and drugstore. She had Emma help put the dishes in the dishwasher, and learn to make her bed. They did laundry together. Her life with her mother had been fraught with lessons and activities which all centered around Emma’s work on the show. They were always rushing somewhere to meet another drama coach, or take another singing lesson, or go to an audition for a commercial, or for the musical in New York. But if Emma wanted a more ordinary life, away from show business, Whitney wanted to get her used to it now, before she started school in the fall. She had never really had a normal life with her mother.
They went to the supermarket together on a Saturday afternoon, when Brett was off. She didn’t like taking Emma to places like that in case she got lost. But Whitney kept a close eye on her, and they were in the cereal aisle looking at breakfast cereal together, while Whitney tried to convince her to pick one of the healthier brands. Emma was telling her aunt that her mother had let her eat whatever kind of cereal she wanted, even one of the chocolate ones.
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