The doctor flinched but caught himself and smiled.
“My father died three years ago, and I took over his practice. But I’m sure I can help.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she interrupted him.
He sat in the chair next to her, which surprised her a bit. She assumed he would sit behind his desk. He turned the chair toward her, shifting his weight until he was sitting at the very edge, his knees practically touching hers. He seemed excited to see her.
“So tell me, Piper, what brings you here?”
She looked nervously down at her hands, which were holding one another like scared children.
“Well, I’m … I’m having a ….” She cleared her throat and looked up at him.
“I had a nervous breakdown after my husband’s death a couple of months ago, and since then I’ve learned a lot of things about my past that I was never aware of. My father told me that my parents brought me here in the seventies to see you, or rather, your father.”
Dr. Corcoran almost jumped out of his chair, clearly having a hard time waiting for her to finish her sentence.
“I’m so happy you’re here. I wondered if this day would ever come. But … do you know how much my father talked about your case? You, I mean, and what he learned from you?”
She shook her head and smiled, a little embarrassed.
“Well, let me tell you, my father regarded you as a gift, a pearl in the sand, he used to say. ‘If you could see how she shines!’
“When he got sick, he took your records and put them in a safe deposit box for me and instructed me to seek you out. I tried, but I kept running into dead ends. Finally I found your parents in Massachusetts, but they said … they said that … well, that you had passed away.”
Now it was Piper’s turn to jump out of her chair.
“What!? They told you I died?!” Her thoughts spun and the scent of lavender rushed in behind her nose, but she ignored it, trying hard to comprehend the possible meaning of such a profound lie.
“Well, I guess maybe they didn’t want me to dig into your past, so to speak, which, of course, is what I wanted to do. I’m sure they were just trying to protect you.”
She nodded her head and said, “Yeah, that seems to be the recurring theme here.”
He realized that this was a bit overwhelming for her and asked, “Can I get you some tea or water? Coffee?”
She shook her head. “No. Thank you, though.”
He sat back down and motioned for her to do the same. She sat down hard, looking pale; but when he began to speak again, the color flooded back into her beautiful face.
“Can you tell me something, Piper?” He asked, and she responded with a nod. “Tell me what your father told you, what you know.”
She looked at him and shrugged her shoulders like a kid who doesn’t want to confess to something she’d been caught doing. His reassuring smile, though, was encouraging.
“Well, my father told me that when I was little, around four years old, I had an imaginary friend or a ghost who visited me at night. And my mother was really scared by it, so they tried everything they could think of to get it—whatever it was—to go away. And when they couldn’t, they brought me here, to your father.”
He nodded at her as if he knew there was more that she needed to tell him. But she looked down at her hands, hoping he would break the awkward silence. He let out a raspy breath, almost whistling.
“That’s all he told you? I mean, was there anything more you can remember?”
She shook her head as if to say, Isn’t that enough!?
Dr. Corcoran sat back in his chair and visibly relaxed.
“Do you remember anything? From the past I mean, from your past life?”
She looked at him to see if he was serious and then remembered where she was and what he did for a living. She shook her head no. “Well, I guess … I guess that’s the whole point, right?”
He laughed gently and nodded humbly.
“Yes, I guess it is. How do you feel about this information you recently learned? Oh, and I’m sorry to hear about your husband, by the way.”
Piper nodded, hating when people said that, especially if they didn’t even know Paul. She shrugged her shoulders and felt like she was in the principal’s office back in high school, not knowing what to say.
“I don’t really know. I mean, it’s all so confusing right now. That’s why I’m here. I’m just looking for answers and I don’t think my parents are prepared to give me what I need.”
John nodded at her then and waited to see if she wanted to say anything more. After a moment he leaned forward and said, “Well, I can assure you that whatever you need to know and I can help you with, it’s yours for the asking. I’ll be more than happy to waive my fees. It really is an honor to sit here with you. I still can’t believe you’re here.”
The intercom on the desk suddenly crackled, interrupting like a waitress who waits until you have a mouthful of food before asking how everything is. John reached over his desk and hit a button on the phone and instructed Barbara to hold all his calls and let his next client know he’d be a few minutes.
Piper felt, for the first time in a month, that she might have a decent chance at getting some answers; perhaps even some peace. He looked at her and realized that a few minutes weren’t going to do much for either one of them.
“Piper, do you think you can stick around for an hour or so until I’m finished with my next client? I want to continue our conversation, and I can clear my schedule for the afternoon if you have the time.”
She nodded and said, “It seems all that I have these days is time. I’ll just go get some coffee and I’ll be back later.” He showed her to the waiting room and looked into her eyes.
“You’ll be back?”
She nodded her confirmation and left.
When she got back into her car, she exhaled loudly and closed her eyes.
“Thank you, God.” She started her car and glanced down at her phone. It was mocking her from the console with its message alert chirp, begging her to check her voicemail. No, she thought. There’s only one person I want to talk to right now and that’s Dr. John Corcoran, Jr., thank you very much. The engine turned over and she set the heat to high as she drove from the parking lot.
She found a coffee shop. The sign read: One Lump or Two. She turned off the engine and closed her eyes momentarily. That’s something I would have thought was clever just a year ago. It’s amazing what a year can do to you.
Paul had always gotten a medium coffee, cream only, and two jelly donuts, an order he never deviated from all the time she had known him. She took a deep breath, thinking how this was another first. As she swung open the door and stepped into the building she was greeted by the comforting smell of freshly brewed coffee. It was a smell that made her think of her grandparent’s house at the holidays, studying for college exams, and of course the early mornings of horse shows.
There were a few elderly people sitting at tables, which were painted soft pastel colors, and Piper thought, Why did they get to live to be old?
“I’ll have a small regular and a medium. She stopped midsentence and look down.
“Sorry. Just the small coffee.”
The girl behind the counter whose crooked name tag read Amanda looked at her with bright eyes.
“Don’t be sorry. Be happy because life’s too short. That’s what my professor always says.” Piper looked at the girl and thought how cute she was with her black ponytail and her One Lump Or Two visor with its little sugar cubes and coffee cup printed in brown and pink. She looks like she could be my daughter.
“That’s a great sentiment. What class does your professor teach?” she asked the girl.
“History Through Poetry. It’s a cool class,” she answered as she poured the coffee. Piper nodded and said, “Sounds cool.” She took the coffee and handed the girl a five-dollar bill.
“Keep the change—for laundry.”
The girl flashed he
r a beautiful, toothy smile, truly surprised.
“Have a great day!”
“You too, Honey.” Piper made it to her car before she broke down and cried. She put her coffee in the cup holder before pounding her fists against the steering wheel. Her head hanging between her shoulders she cried, “Paul, I miss you so much! Why did you leave me? Was I that awful? Oh Paul, I know I was. I’m so sorry, please, I’m so sorry. I need you. All I want is you. You’re the only one who understood me and now there’s no one.”
She picked up her phone and flipped it open. She quickly dialed her voice mailbox, then snapped it shut again. She needed to hear his voice in the way that an addict needs her drug, but she knew it would render her useless. She had to hold herself together until she had time to talk to Dr. Corcoran. She wiped her eyes with the napkin she had grabbed before she left the coffee shop and started the car again.
Driving around town, she figured, would keep her mind busy for the next forty-five minutes until she was to go back and try to find out who she had been, who she was supposed to be, who she might be once again.
The salt-stained gray streets lined with dirty snow banks greeted her at every turn and she wished she hadn’t agreed to stay. She only wanted to be at home on her farm with a fire in the fireplace, but knew she’d be just as sad there, too.
As she watched people go about their daily lives she was struck with contempt and resentment. How come they get to be happy and normal, just going on with their lives? Doesn’t anyone understand what I’m feeling, doesn’t anyone care?
She wondered what it would be like to just become the woman she saw hurrying from her green minivan to the grocery store with a toddler in one arm and a baby in the other. Where does she live? What’s her house like? What does her husband do for a living? Does she love him? She shook her head, knowing it was just self-pity and that it was part of the grief process, but she hated the feeling just the same. She sipped her hot coffee and felt it warm her insides, making her relax a little bit. It was almost time to go back to the hypnotist’s office. She drew a deep breath. I can do this. She decided she was glad she had agreed to stay. I wonder if I’ll ever forgive them for this.
Barbara didn’t look up when Piper arrived back at the office, and she didn’t much care. She was tired of miserable people and hoped that she would never give off the vibe that this woman was sending out. Glancing at the clock, she realized that she had returned ten minutes early. She began to turn toward the magazine rack but quickly looked back at the clock. It was the decorative sort she often saw at Home Goods and thought would look great in her office. It was purely decorative with Roman numerals and hands that were tipped with fleur de lis on a tea-stained parchment-looking face. The pendulum seduced her with its tick-tock rhythm and she stood staring. She squinted to see the words at the center of it: Paris, France.
Dr. Corcoran saw his patient at the door. My father’s pearl in the sand. He was a little surprised that she had kept her promise to come back. He silently waved from behind the middle-aged man who was leaving so as not to seem too eager to see him out the door. Piper was absorbed first by the clock but then by the faint sound of horse hooves striking stone. It made her heart skip. For the first time in a long while she felt unforgotten. She turned toward John.
“Hi.” It was all she could think to say. He raised his eyebrows.
“Hi. Glad you came back.”
He led her back to the vanilla-colored office.
After settling back into their respective chairs, John picked up a thick folder from his desk. Piper glanced at it and knew it must be old. It was tattered on the edges and had pen marks and a faded red ink stamp that read: Confidential.
John watched her as she looked at the folder.
“So this is your file. It’s almost as old as you are. I think you might be interested in it. Maybe not today, but at some point.” He looked expectantly at her.
With her eyes still on the word “Confidential,” she shook her head as if he had asked if she’d like to see autopsy results. To her way of thinking, that’s exactly what the notes were.
“Maybe someday?” She knew it was non-committal but she didn’t think she could handle what might be in there.
“Okay. That’s fine, just thought I’d ask.” He looked at her with anticipation, wondering if she’d change her mind.
She looked at a Princeton University degree on the wall: Doctorate of Psychology.
“What do I do now?”
He shifted in his seat, crossed his legs.
“Well that depends. What do you want to do? Why did you come here?”
She looked at him directly now.
“Originally I thought I wanted to know what happened before my parents brought me here but I don’t know. It’s a little confusing and I ….” She looked at him for help.
“All right, I can tell you this. You’re safe here and there’s nothing to be scared of. If you think it will help you I can regress you, and record our session, which is what I do for all my clients and we can go from there.” He paused for a moment.
“What do you think?”
She was stunned to think that in a matter of an hour or so she might have the answers to questions that had kept her awake for the last month and kept her from herself for almost forty years. She gripped the tops of her thighs out of nervousness, shrugged her shoulders again.
“I can’t imagine ever going on without knowing. It’s just that … it’s just that I feel like I’ll never be able to un-know it. You know?”
He let out a laugh that spoke of relief and gratitude, as this was something he thought he had lost a chance of ever doing when her parents told him she had died.
“Yes. I do know. But I really think that’s the whole point. Life has a way of surprising us. And sometimes in really good ways. Let’s get started?”
Before long he had Piper sitting in the reclining chair in his office and assured her that it would help her relax more than lying flat on the couch by the bookcase.
“I don’t know why most psychologists insist clients lie on a couch. You’re not taking a nap here. You’ll be fully awake and aware.”
“I suppose you don’t use a wristwatch either.” She looked up at him.
“Only for paying customers,” he said through a laugh.
She rolled her eyes as she tried not to smile. What am I doing? Everything I thought was real might not be and everything I find out could be worse than—no, nothing could be worse than being without Paul. The sob caught in her chest. Embarrassed, she put her hands over her face and tried to compose herself before the tears came.
John gave her a moment and then as if there had been no interruption, he continued. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to ask you to relax and close your eyes. Take a nice deep breath in through your nose. Hold it for a count of one and then slowly let it out through your mouth. Let all the tension drain from your body. Just picture it like water flowing off your fingertips. And then another breath. In through your nose, hold for a second, and then out through your mouth. Good. Then I will give you suggestions to help you relax even more and you will follow my voice as you get more and more relaxed. Then we begin the regression. It’s as simple as that. You will be in complete control at all times. There’s absolutely nothing to worry about. When I ask you to come back, you’ll do it slowly, and you may or may not remember what you told me during the session but that’s what the recorder is for. Okay?”
Piper nodded, not looking at him. She had already closed her eyes and again she could hear hooves on stone. The scent of lavender began to wash over her and a sense of peace enveloped her like a snug cocoon.
John’s voice was quiet and comforting as he suggested her eyelids were so heavy that even if she wanted to she wouldn’t be able to open them. After several minutes of suggestions that she was very relaxed and going deeper and deeper into the forest he began to take her back. Back before she could consciously remember.
�
�Now I want you to go back in your mind to yesterday morning. You see how you can be any place and in any time in your mind. It doesn’t matter where or when you are now, your mind can bring you there—where and whenever you want to be.” She nodded her head and took another deep breath.
He continued. “Now, Piper, bring me back to 1979 in your house with your mother and father. I want to know what your bedroom looked like; can you describe it for me?”
She said in a clear and calm voice, “It’s pink and it has two windows. My bed is under the windows, and I have stuffed animals on it. My cat is there, Valentine! And my Holly Hobby oven, and my saddle. It’s new. I just got it for Christmas.”
“Good girl.” Dr. Corcoran’s eyes, for the first time in his career, brimmed with tears, knowing his father was right there with him, guiding him as he guided her. “Now, can you tell me about your friend? The one who comes to visit with you.”
“Yes! He’s my best friend. His name is Vander and he is older than me. He’s nine. He says that God promised we would always be together. But he’s telling me that he has to stop coming to visit with me because people will think there’s something wrong with me. But I don’t want him to go. I love him.” Tears seeped out from under her lids and. John moved her forward. Or rather, backward.
“Okay. Now let’s go back before that time, Piper. Tell me about when you were four.”
“My name is Catherine and I’m in pink pajamas in my bed. My mother is rubbing my back and telling me to go back to sleep, but I don’t want to sleep because Vander is making funny faces at me and scaring the kitten.”
“Okay. Let’s go back further now. Can you go back further?” John’s voice, ever steady, moved her back again. “It’s okay. You are safe and you can go back even farther. She took a deep breath and visibly relaxed, her arms resting by her sides now, and said, flatly, “Now I am Francine. I’m with my sister on the rocks at the shore. I’m teasing her about being afraid to go out on the rocks and I’m afraid, too, but she doesn’t know I’m afraid, too. She’s begging me to stop fooling around but I want to prove that I’m not a scaredy-cat like her. I keep telling her to go farther and farther. And then … and then she falls on the rocks and her head is bleeding. No! No! She’s bleeding and she’s falling into the waves. And I have to help but now we are both in the water and it’s dark.”
Piper, Once & Again Page 21