I opened my eyes as we pulled up in the driveway. I tipped the driver a generous amount and was happy to be home.
I entered through the kitchen door around the back and realized how quiet it was without Jeremy being home. I hadn’t spoken to him since leaving for the trip.
I ran into the bedroom to the answering machine.
“You have four new messages,” voiced the machine.
I pressed the button and let the messages play, kicking off my shoes and changing into something more comfortable.
“Hey, Kat, Mr. Ming here. Let me know how things went. I hope you got some information about the hotel, too. Remember I said the Clarksons are interested in vacationing there.”
The next two messages were from telemarketers, but the last one was from John.
“I wanted to let you know Jeremy is going to stay a little longer.” His voice trailed off a little. “I also wanted to mention, I’m sorry for―” A beep cut off the message.
I was puzzled and upset as to why Jeremy hadn’t mentioned this to me sooner and that John had called, not Jeremy himself. I tried Jeremy’s cell again, but no answer.
“Sorry for what?” I said out loud. Sorry for hurting me? Sorry for taking Jeremy away? Why would he want to stay with his dad anyway? I knew Jeremy didn’t like Natalie. Even though John’s known Natalie for years, they’ve only been dating and living together for a few months.
I was crushed that Jeremy wanted to stay with him. So many thoughts entered my mind as to why he’d made the decision he had. Was he mad? Did he know I wasn’t taking my meds?
I tried to push my worries aside as I made myself comfortable on the bed. It was late afternoon, and I had nothing planned, so I decided to veg out and watch T.V.
I was going to have lunch with Todd tomorrow, but was debating on whether or not to cancel. I had no intention of seeing my brother, especially since things were going south my end. I didn’t want to complain to him and have it get back to my parents.
As I lay there watching the Learning Channel, I dozed off.
We were standing in the closet again, but this time we were adults. She was mad that I’d left her there. I could see her face—the same innocent look she always gave me.
“Why, Katherine?” she yelled.
I tried to loosen the girl’s grip from around my wrists but couldn’t shake it. Just as she let go, she slapped me, saying, “Wake up, Kat.”
It was now 7:00 p.m. as I rolled out of bed. I went into the kitchen and stepped outside for a smoke. I felt as though the evening sky was calling me, with its light breeze and threat of rain—like it meant something.
I had to get my mind off everything, including the dreams, so I went back inside, grabbed my purse and headed to the video store for a movie.
When I got back home, I received a call from Todd.
“Hey, Kat, still on for tomorrow?”
“Sure Todd…I mean, I guess.”
“What’s wrong? Jeremy okay?”
“Jeremy’s fine, Todd. He just wants to stay with John a little longer.”
“Well, maybe that’s a good idea,” Todd said, pausing for a moment. “Hey, Kat, I have something important to tell you, but not over the phone.”
“Sure, don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I won’t cancel tomorrow. Is everything okay with you?”
“With me, yeah, but Mom…Well, like I said, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Chapter Five
I awoke to the alarm clock buzz. After looking at the time, I reminded myself of the lunch date with Todd. I couldn’t believe I’d slept that long; it was 11:00 a.m., and I wasn’t even ready yet.
I jumped in the shower and pasted myself together, enough to look decent. I still felt tired, but didn’t want to disappoint Todd. I knew he had something really important to say, and I wasn’t going to miss it.
I walked outside and headed to the car, thinking of the last words he’d said. The whole car ride I worried and felt like I would throw up any minute. I blamed my nervousness on my medication—and blamed myself for not taking them properly.
When I pulled up to the restaurant, I said a little prayer.
“Please, God, give me strength,” I whispered softly as I scanned the parking lot to make sure no one was watching me. Even after several bipolar episodes, I never lost faith in God.
I met Todd at the glass doors with the steel “F” handles, and we were seated right away. He’d always been the sickly, skinny kid in school, but once he got into college he sprouted up to six feet six inches, luckily gaining some weight—enough to look healthy. He liked going to T.G.I. Friday’s TM, and at this time it was never really busy.
“You can order the Jack Daniels steak and shrimp if you want, Kat. I just got paid,” he said as he laid his napkin in his lap.
“That sounds good.”
However, it didn’t really, being that I was still queasy, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I knew how important it was that he’d treat.
After he deliberated on what to order, scanning the menu for a few minutes, he began to talk about our parents. “Mom’s painting the walls again. She wants to have the apartment all in beige this time.”
“She always did have a fetish for that, didn’t she?” I wondered where this conversation was leading. I knew all this already and wanted to know the important things instead—the things he had to tell me face-to-face and not over the phone. “So when she’s not painting the walls, or crawling on the walls, what is she doing?” I could feel the snipe remark coming right out of my mouth. I didn’t want to say it, but it was like an automatic reaction.
“Oh, Kat, come on. She needs stuff to do too,” Todd said in a frustrated tone.
“What happened to looking after Martha and her kids?”
“You know Martha doesn’t like that, Kat. She has her own family to worry about and can only take so much of Mom’s opinions and suggestions.”
“No, Todd, I don’t know. Neither Dad nor Mom speaks to me anymore, remember? How the hell would I know anything?”
“Defensive, just like you,” Todd piped back, pointing his finger on the table. “Mom and Dad used to talk about you and your illness and of course your divorce too, but lately things have been quiet.”
“Oh, yeah? Why is that?” I snapped back, raising the glass of water to my lips.
“Mom’s sick…”
A silence came over both of us as the waiter put down our entrees. I’d ordered the steak and shrimp like Todd wanted me to, but looking at it now made me want to run to the bathroom. Knowing what Todd was about to say, made it worse.
“They found something in her stomach,” he mumbled as he started cutting up his chicken.
“What do you mean, “something”?”
“A tumor.”
Todd and I parted ways after lunch and said we’d call each other later on.
I got in my car and took a right turn to the grocery store to pick up some milk and dinner. After I dropped off the food at home, I decided to go to the mall and digest some of the conversation I’d had with Todd.
I thought of all the times I’d helped my mother and how she’d complain about her stomach problems—how I blew it over thinking it wasn’t a big deal. Now look at her. She has a tumor, and it’s cancerous. Todd told me all the details, but a lot of it went over my head. All I could think about was my frail mother, soon to die—my mother whom I haven’t seen in almost a year.
“You need to see her.” Todd’s words right before we split ways rang in my ears.
See her? How could I see her when she hates me—when we haven’t said a word to each other in forever?
As I walked into Kohl’s department store, scanning the women’s section, my phone buzzed—one missed call. I flipped it open to listen to the voice-message. “Mitch here, how are you, Kat? Miss you, babe. Hey listen, don’t forget me. I want to see you soon. Later, Kitty.” Mitch was a decent person, I suppose, but the marriage thing was a real killjoy, plus he had kids. When we first met, we were a
ttracted to each other as if we were magnets. Mitch, being a dark-haired, robust man, hit it off with me from the get-go. I loved the way he made me laugh. He was just that kind of flamboyant person that everybody gravitated to. He carried himself well and was an excellent salesman; he could sell a deal to anyone about anything, and when he came into our office, before I started working from home, I was sold.
About a month after Mitch and I met, we spent the night together in New York. Back then, I didn’t care that he was married. That was the time I was in my manic state and my mood swings were unmanageable. He didn’t seem to care about my cocky behavior. In fact, he grooved on it, and said it made him hot for me.
Walking through the lingerie aisle made me think of the time I spent with Mitch. He loved it when I wore sexy teddies for him. I could just picture his wide, devilish grin as he sat there on the bed waiting for me. The sex was about the best I’d had since I divorced John. Although I didn’t love Mitch, I loved how he made me feel.
After that year of sneaking around and traveling with him on his business trips, things seemed to fall apart. Something inside me changed. I didn’t want to be the “other” woman anymore. There was a time I wanted him to leave his wife, a time when I thought I was in love, but I realized Mitch was only out for one thing—sex.
As I shopped aimlessly, my phone rang again. Jeremy’s name lit up, so I picked it up right away.
“Mom?”
“Jeremy! How are you, honey?”
“I’m good. Gonna come home tomorrow. Is there any food you can make?”
Typical of Jeremy to ask if there was anything to eat; was that all he thought about? It was a good thing I’d gone food shopping.
“Yes, there’s food. I missed you, buddy.”
“I missed you too, Mom.”
Chapter Six
It was now a Thursday in October, and the leaves continued to change into crimson and coral orange. The lemon-yellow leaves intermingled with the swirling colors and lay littered on the sidewalks and curbs. The evergreens, pungent with pine scents, filled the cool, crisp air with the smell of fall. Today I had my therapist appointment, which I wasn’t looking forward to, but I was looking forward to Jeremy coming home.
I promised myself I wouldn’t cancel Dr. Mason’s appointment as I’d done so many times before. I grew anxious to go, feeling the urge to talk again—to talk about everything. I wasn’t going to leave anything out this time.
Jeremy was coming home in the evening, so I had a chance to prepare for my visit. I drove to the doctor’s and entered the waiting room; this time it was filled with people. In the corner, a mother and son were reading a story book. There were three people in line, one making their next appointment, and a few others shuffling some papers.
Just as I sat down and opened my book to read, my name was called.
“Miss Wheeler? The doctor will see you now,” the thin-framed nurse said.
I stepped into a cozy room of potted plants and plaques and took a seat on the russet-colored velvet couch.
Once the doctor stepped into the room, I began to pour out my emotional struggles about my mother and her illness, but that wasn’t truly on my mind at the time; Jeremy and John were. I mentioned my difficulty sleeping, and that I was having dreams of the girl again.
“Okay, Katherine, tell me what’s really going on with you.” Dr. Mason knew I was skirting around the real issues. She was a young woman in her thirties, like me, with straight auburn hair and dark-rimmed glasses.
“Well, it’s these weird, freakish dreams that have been haunting me for about a month before John first e-mailed his worries. I used to have these dreams years ago, but for some reason, they’ve been happening again.”
In my mind, I kept reverting back to John. I thought there was a glimmer of hope—that we’d get back together somehow. “He gave me the impression he was really worried about me and thought I might not be taking my medication.”
“Are you taking your meds, Katherine?”
I didn’t want it to slip out that I wasn’t, but it just happened. I needed this anyway. I needed to be honest.
“Yes, well—I stopped, and then started again—but only the Abilify. The Tegretols and Zanax gave me horrible headaches.”
“You know, Katherine, you should advise this to your doctor. He is the only one to prescribe the right amount, what you should and shouldn’t take. Do not under any circumstances self-medicate.”
“I know you’re right. I’ll call him.”
“Better yet, Katherine, make an appointment at the desk.”
“Okay.”
“Now tell me about these dreams.”
“She was wandering through the forest—the girl. I’ve never seen her at this age before. She looked strikingly familiar, like she could have been my baby sister, with golden-blonde hair. In my last dream, she wore a white dress and looked about the age of eighteen. It was a cool summer day in the forest, but when she came to the lake, it was frozen over. She saw me watching from afar and gingerly started to walk across the ice, signaling for me to come. I glanced behind me and back again, and she was gone. My worst fear came true when I saw her underneath the sheet of ice. There was this patch of open ice and I ran to it, trying to save her. I panicked and started to walk to the thin patch, but the moment I stepped onto the ice, I fell through and woke up.”
I went on to say I was having dreams of the girl dying in different ways—disappearing in different ways. I spoke softly and started to cry.
“Why do you think this is?” the doctor asked.
“Isn’t that for you to know? Maybe it has something to do with John, and he worries about me. I don’t know.”
“Maybe it’s the little girl inside of you, feeling trapped,” the doctor added.
The session ended in a flash, like the very dream I had talked about. I felt relieved I’d lifted a lot off my chest, and that she finally knew I wasn’t taking my meds correctly.
I took a half-day because of the doctor’s appointment. I was eagerly thinking of seeing Jeremy again and wanted to make everything perfect for him. Once I got home, I started on the meatloaf, dicing up the onions and getting out the bacon. It was another one of Jeremy’s favorites. After I finished preparing the meal, I put it in the fridge to solidify.
I caught up on some loose e-mails, sending one to Mr. Ming:
Mr. Ming, I have sent you the packages that are finished with their bookings. Can you confirm and file them, please?
Then I read the e-mail from Dean:
Wanna talk?
Apparently, he must have thought I was online at the time, so I prepared an e-mail back:
Hey, Dean,
Hope all is well. Sorry I missed you. A lot has been going on. I had a great time with you when we first met. You put me in good spirits, and that’s what I needed. I’ll try to get back to you later. Take care.
Katherine.
I didn’t want to tell him about my mom just yet. After all, we’d only been talking for a short period of time, and I still felt like I had to hold back on some of the conversations. As it was, Dean had been having problems with his son Sean and with something else; what that was, I didn’t know.
Soon after I pressed send to his e-mail, Dean’s IM popped up.
DD: Are you on?
KW: Yeah sure, what’s up?
DD: It’s been a few days. Is everything okay with you?
I thought of telling him right then and there, but something changed my mind. I just wanted to keep the chat light.
KW: Yeah, things are fine. How are you and Sean?
DD: He got someone knocked up. The hell if I care how he is.
KW: Well, look at it this way. You’ll be a pretty good-looking grandpa.
DD: Haha…yeah.
Dean and I chatted for about 30 minutes, exchanging a couple of laughs. He seemed to take on a better mood.
I worried about Dean just as I worried about all my friends. He too was fighting depression. After being cl
inically diagnosed, I knew what he was going through and guessed that’s why we hit it off in the first place. That’s just it. I thought of him as a friend and not a lover. It wasn’t that I wasn’t attracted to him; it was how he presented himself when I first saw him in Chicago. There was something missing, yet I wanted to hang on to the fact that he was the first decent person I’d dated in years. It was nice that Jenny recommended the site, and it was nice it was working out, but that was just it—it was nice…not wonderful.
Mitch was the only other person I’d been with since the divorce and just now, after three years of being single again, I figured I should start dating again.
I endured several hospital stays months after my marriage fell apart and couldn’t date. That had been the last thing on my mind. All I could think of was finally getting out of the hospital. It would have been fourteen years of marriage, if that last dreadful summer hadn’t happened, when I’d realized John had had enough. I went through years of depression beforehand and stopped taking my meds, after I was diagnosed, and then developed high anxiety.
While we were married, I changed my habits and lost a lot of weight—whittling down to only one hundred and fifteen pounds. I also started going out more and not telling John of my whereabouts. He was a heavy drinker from the start and was an only child, having been raised by his grandfather after his parents divorced.
I tried to straighten up the house before Jeremy’s arrival and continued working, sending out e-mails, but I couldn’t help thinking of John again.
I remembered when his parents got into that fatal car accident. He was in his twenties, and we’d only been married a couple of years. Instead of sobering up, he got worse and started developing reckless behavior, putting Jeremy and I through a lot of pain. His careless actions also put us in financial danger. Once, when Jeremy was little, and John was completely out of it, I left them alone, thinking they would be fine, but when I got home, I saw that Jeremy was standing over a drunken John. That’s when my mom stepped in and helped out with the babysitting.
Back then I was waitressing and making good tips but couldn’t handle all the bills. In my early years of marriage, I bounced around from job to job, trying to make ends meet. John worked sporadically with his carpentry, receiving only odd jobs here and there. It was a time when we really struggled to keep it together.
Dreaming a Reality Page 3