by Diane Adams
Parking the truck distracted him from his morose thoughts.
He jumped out and went around and helped Stevie down. "And here we are." He didn't mention her pale face or trembling hands.
If they left, she'd just come back another time and maybe alone. He couldn't let that happen, not for a first visit. Halfway across the lot she stopped and looked up at him. "She's my mother." Stevie's voice filled with pain, the raw edge of it cutting Clark to the core. "I can't just… she's my mother."
Clark pressed a kiss to Stevie's forehead and took her hand. "I know." He led her across the parking lot and into the government-funded home for the mentally unstable.
Functionality had been the first priority of whoever designed the building and decorated it inside, with little attention given to appearance or comfort. Stevie looked wide-eyed at the sterile surroundings, making Clark sorrier than ever that he'd brought her.
Clark wished Stevie listened to him as well as Alex listened to Jared, conveniently ignoring the memories of Alex teasing Jared to change his mind when Alex didn't want to do things Jared's way. Teasing that usually worked, Jared didn't hold out against Alex very well, unless it was important.
How important is this? Important enough he should have taken a Jared immovable wall stance, or one of those times that giving in to persistent nagging didn't matter. Wishing he was smarter, Clark settled Stevie into one of the plastic form chairs in the waiting area. "I'll be right back."
Clark approached the desk where a stern woman watched his approach. Ms Francis Lane, according to the small sign sitting on her desk. Clark wondered if a smile had ever cracked Ms Lane's face.
She wore her hair pulled away from her make-up free face, accentuating her hatchet nose and the strong angle of her jaw. He'd never seen anything more unwelcoming than her expression. Receptionist or guard? Clark gathered his courage and ignored his misgivings, coming to a stop in front of the metal desk.
"Sign in. We'll call you when it's time." She motioned at the clipboard lying beside the sign, along with an ink pen and a Marks-A-Lot marker. A few names were already written there in heavy black ink.
Frowning, Clark picked up the cheap ball point pen. He leaned to sign the paper in automatic reaction to the command in the woman's voice then straightened to face her. "We don't have an appointment or anything. Aren't visiting hours from two until four on Saturday?"
Ms Lane's brows lowered as she glowered at him. "It is customary to call ahead."
"Okay, fine. We didn't know that. Sorry." Clark's stubborn nature reared its head. "Is calling first mandatory?" He might not want Stevie to do this, but damned if he'd let some bully deny her rights.
"No. It is simply polite."
Well, color me rude. Clark took a deep breath and held his tongue. Meeting the woman's discourteous attitude with one of his own wouldn't help. He heard Alex's voice in his head 'What would Jared do?' He almost laughed.
Holy cow, he'd be rubbing Jared's belly for luck next… and again with the cow. Jared had too much influence. They should count themselves lucky he always worked towards good. Despite his amused discomfort at his dependence on Jared, Clark flashed the grouchy woman a smile in his best imitation of Mr Wonderful. Clark was fully aware of his own boyish charm, though he rarely expended the energy to employ it.
"We didn't realize. I apologize. Ms Holland recently got back into town and wanted to see her mother, Donna Holland."
The unpleasant Ms Lane unthawed a minute amount. "Let me look at the file." She turned and typed away at the computer. She read in silence and turned back to Clark. "I'll need picture IDs of you both to confirm who you are. Get hers while I call back. I'm not sure this visitor is approved. Her presence could be detrimental to the patient's well being." She picked up the phone.
Following instructions, Clark headed back to Stevie, seething. The suggestion Stevie's presence might harm her mother made him furious. The nature of Donna Holland's illness made little impression on Clark. He thought there should be repercussions for what she did to Stevie. He wanted her to pay for all the pain. Jared and Alex, together and individually, had tried to help him overcome his anger. It didn't work. Clark would never forget the day Stevie stumbled into Jared's house crying, bloody, and half naked. He would never forgive the source of that agony.
Stevie. His Stevie. Clark's foreboding of the visit going wrong returned full force and he longed to gather Stevie into his arms and run away with her. There had to be somewhere they could go where she'd be safe, he could protect her, and nothing would ever hurt her again.
Stevie looked up expectantly when Clark returned. "She's calling to make sure it's okay. We have to show our ID."
Getting up, Stevie nodded, digging her wallet out as they approached the desk. Ms Lane hung up the phone and accepted the cards.
She looked them over and her eyes met Clark's. "Are you a relative?"
"No, I'm Stevie's friend."
Ms Lane held his driver's license out. Clark took it, the feeling of dread increasing.
She spoke and he turned cold. "I'm sorry. Mrs Holland is restricted to relatives or preapproved visits only. You can wait for Ms Holland here."
Panic beat frantic wings in Clark's chest. Alone. Stevie had to see her mother alone. Neither had anticipated such an outcome and his desire to drag Stevie out of the cold-hearted place increased.
Ms Lane turned her attention to Stevie. "Visits are usually thirty minutes, but the doctor has reduced this initial contact to fifteen. Do not try to stay longer. Try to refrain from saying anything upsetting to the patient. Dr Phillips will be on hand should her presence be needed to calm the patient, in such a case you are to leave at once. Do you understand the guidelines of your visit?"
Stevie nodded. "Yes, I understand."
Her voice, barely more than a whisper, tore Clark's heart.
"Good. Take anything you have out of your pockets. I'll check your handbag."
"It's okay, Clark can hold it."
She held it out and he took it without thought. His fingers tightened on the flowered cloth of the bag.
"Stevie." His voice pleaded but trailed off when he met her determined eyes. In spite of his fear, Clark felt a flare of pride when her shoulders squared and her jaw firmed.
"I'm okay. It's just Mom, right?" She gave him a brave smile and turned back to Ms Lane, who pressed the release to the door behind the desk. It swung open slowly and Stevie moved towards it.
She glanced back over her shoulder on her way through. She looked so small and pale. Clark's sense of helplessness rose in the back of his throat like bile, and it took every shred of self control he possessed to let her go through that door alone. He went to sit in one of the ugly, uncomfortable, plastic chairs, Stevie's purse on the floor between his feet. He stared at the huge floral bag, forearms braced on his thighs, wondering what he'd done, bringing her to this place. In the distance, someone screamed and the sound of unbalanced laughter mixed with someone crying.
"God, Stevie," Clark whispered. "This is such a mistake."
They had made such progress together, and he pictured her in his mind as she jogged with him in the early mornings. Her dark hair just long enough to be caught back in a ponytail that bobbed with each step, her smile blinding and the shadows in her eyes nearly gone. She'd started to heal at last. Clark's stomach churned and he wished he could believe Stevie would return from her visit unchanged.
* * * *
A nurse led Stevie into a room he identified as the dayroom. She heard some kind of commotion from somewhere else in the ward, crying and screaming. In the dayroom the TV turned low hummed in the background. Board games were laid out on a few tables ready to play, and a shelf held rows of paperbacks that remained as untouched as the games. Few people in the room were doing anything. They walked around aimlessly, or sat staring into space. Unease crawled down Stevie's spine. She wondered if they were bored or medicated beyond being able to focus. She shored up her courage, reminding herself the staff w
ouldn't endanger her.
Stevie's eyes were drawn to where her mother sat at a table, tracing the marbled design on the top with a single finger.
"Donna, you have company." The gentle voice of the male nurse surprised Stevie.
He cared about her mother. The realization woke conflicting emotions within her. When Stevie asked Jared to visit, she knew he'd do it out of duty. It never occurred to her that there might people in her mother's life who felt compassion for her. Her negative reaction to the idea shocked Stevie. Her mother's voice saying her name pulled her out of her mind and back into the moment. One Stevie no longer felt sure she could handle.
"Stevie. This is a surprise."
Her mother didn't get up, and Stevie couldn't tell from her voice if the woman welcomed the surprise or not.
Choosing a chair on the opposite side of the small table Stevie sat uninvited. "Hi, Mom."
Silence grew between them until her mother sighed. "I suppose you are here to yell at me for hurting you."
Her mother's self absorption didn't surprise Stevie. Nothing had ever been more important to Donna than herself.
"I'm not going to yell. I just came because…" Stevie found herself at a loss for words.
She didn't know what she wanted, or expected. Something to make bearing what happened easier. Seeing her mother made that thought seem ridiculous. Stevie struggled to maintain her composure in the face of her resurrected insecurities. "I want to know why. Why did you do it? Do you hate me that much?" Self doubt had been something her mother had cultivated in Stevie without effort.
Waiting for her mother's answer, Stevie noticed how shrunken and old the woman looked. The pajamas she wore were better than anything she'd had at home and Stevie wondered if the state provided them, or if Jared bought them for her. Stevie glanced around. Jared came to this dismal place twice a month, because she asked him to. Jared would buy pajamas and a robe for a woman he disliked, perhaps even hated, because she was Stevie's mother. In his mind that made her worth something.
Sitting before her mother's indifference, Stevie reminded herself of those things. Alex and Jared loved her, better friends than she deserved, and Clark. Clark, always Clark. He loved her even when she didn't understand why and Stevie clung to that knowledge like a lifeline.
Her mother shifted in her chair.
Her gaze falling from Stevie's face, she began tracing the lines on the table once more. "I don't hate you, at least not now. I don't remember what I thought. They say I hurt you but I don't remember."
Staring at her mother's profile, Stevie tried to find in the person who'd given birth to her, some small sign of compassion. There were no feelings there at all that Stevie could determine.
"You don't remember?"
"No. The doctor calls it a psychotic break. She said I may not ever remember. She also says I'm not safe to live on my own. She claims I would hurt myself." Her low monotone gave no indication of how she felt about her circumstances.
She looked up unexpectedly to lock gazes with Stevie. "I think they believe I might hunt you down and kill you. Do you think I'd do that? To my own daughter?"
Stevie recoiled from the sudden intensity of her mother's gaze. She opened her mouth to answer when her mother surged to her feet, gripping the edge of the table she leaned across it towards Stevie.
Her voice dropped to a hissing whisper. "Slut! Filthy, stinking whore! You aren't worth the money it takes to feed you. Why did you have to come back? No one wants me anymore. They all want you. 'Who's that?' 'How much?' I should have taken their offers. You fucking, dirty slut!"
Unprepared for the irrational tirade, Stevie tried to block her mother's voice, echoes of the filth that had poured from her mother's mouth the day she'd attacked Stevie. But it leaked through despite her best efforts. Her hands trembled and Stevie hid them in her lap so her mother wouldn't see. She struggled with the idea her mother claimed not to remember, but could repeat, word for word, the things she'd said.
Stevie leaned forward, somehow managing to keep her voice level. "You almost killed me. If it wasn't for Jared and Clark, I would have died."
Her mother settled back, looking pleased. "Jared is a nice boy. He brings me things. He brought me these lovely pajamas. Did you bring me something? You're here. Does that mean he isn't coming anymore? I like him better than you."
Donna's wistful voice and dreamy expression staggered Stevie and she fought back tears. "Look," she whispered and lifted her shirt.
The recently healed wounds had become ridged scars on her stomach and rib cage, stark against her skin, though the doctors promised they would fade, given time. Some of the deep gouges that marred her breasts were visible over the top of her bra. "You did this to me."
Her mother glanced at the scarred flesh without visible reaction. "That looks terrible. Boys aren't going to want you now, are they? Do you want me to apologize? It's very difficult to feel sorry for something I can't remember. If I remembered, I suppose I'd be sorry. I'd have to be. It's wrong to hurt other people. That's what my doctor says." She tilted her head a little.
Stevie had the unsettling feeling her mom listened to someone, and for the first time she began to realize what it meant when the doctor determined Donna's condition unstable.
"Sometimes I think about hurting her. She's not a very nice person. It should be okay to hurt people who are not nice, don't you think, Stevie? Perhaps you weren't very nice. Did you think of that? It might be your fault. Maybe you deserved it." Her mother paused, looking dazed. "Did you bring me something? Is Jared coming today?"
Stevie lowered her shirt. The realization her mother was insane a bitter pill to swallow. Stevie had been unsure of her motivation for coming to see her mother. She had the feeling if she had brought a small present, flowers or some cookies, her mother would have sat and chatted aimlessly with her. She had always liked presents.
Stevie got to her feet, nearly blinded by tears. Finally admitting to herself why she'd come, at the very least she hoped for closure, and someone to blame. In the most secret reaches of her heart, she longed for a repentant mother eager to reconcile with the child she'd hurt. Stevie fought off the shame she felt, that after everything, she longed for her mother's approval. Dreamed of having her love.
Her entire life Stevie had fantasized about a shining moment when her mother realized how precious her only child was to her. Somehow, she'd come to expect this would be that moment. Instead, Stevie found herself across the table from a woman who had little grasp on reality, and none at all on what she had done. There would be no golden moment, no reconciliation. No love.
Their eyes met again. Donna cocked her head and sighed. "You always were such a bad daughter. Let Jared come next time, and remind him he promised to bring me chocolate. Goodbye, dear." Her mother got up and wandered away.
Stevie stood alone, tears wet her cheeks unnoticed. Arms wrapped tightly around her middle, she stumbled towards the door. The nurse buzzed her out without comment. Perhaps it was common for visitors to leave in worse shape than the patients they were visiting. She heard them calling Dr Phillips to Donna Holland's room as the door closed behind her, of course their concern focused on their patient. As it should.
Clark look startled when she came into the waiting room and Stevie realized she couldn't have been gone more than ten minutes—no matter that it felt like eternity. Concern written on his face, he came to his feet in one smooth motion. Even now she couldn't help but admire the man he was growing into—so sure in his movements, dependable and rock solid.
He tried to pull her into a hug but she ducked away.
Horrible. No boy will want you.
She shook her head. "Not now, I just want to go home. Please, Clark."
He retrieved her purse and handed it to her without comment, respecting her need for space. The silence on the road home was broken only by her quiet sobs. She turned towards the passenger window, curled against the door in a way that telegraphed she didn't want to be touched,
fighting to block the echo of her mother's voice in her head.
Maybe it was your fault.
Endless Days
"You took her to see her mother?"
Clark looked up from the books he had spread across Jared's kitchen table to see his boss coming through the door looking less than happy. Great, homework on Saturday night and Stevie decided to spill the beans about their little trip. It had been a couple of weeks, but she'd lost ground. Clark hadn't gotten her to tell him what happened. Had no idea how the woman had managed to undo, in a few minutes, so much of what Stevie had taken months to accomplish.
Clark sighed. "She told you?" He laid his pencil in his book and closed it.
"No, she didn't tell me." Jared seemed really pissed.
Clark frowned "What? You make lucky guesses? Go yell at her. If I hadn't taken her, she'd have gone alone. And wouldn't that have been just dandy."
Jared took a deep, calming breath and turned a chair around sitting on it the wrong way, facing Clark across the table. "I went to see Mrs Holland today."
"You did? What did she say? Stevie went all snail back in its shell and won't tell me a damn thing. It's driving me nuts. I knew going there was a bad idea." Clark shifted with agitation in his chair.
Stevie had barely spoken to him since that afternoon. She went to school and did her job, but as far as Clark could tell, that was it. She'd stopped running with him. She wouldn't even go for a walk in the park when he asked her earlier to get a break from his school work.
"There's no point in telling you what she said. Mrs Holland is mentally unstable." Jared stared at the top of the table for the space of a few breaths, trailing his finger over the grain before he met Clark's eyes again. "Which I would have told you, if someone had bothered to talk to me before you went out there."
"I told Stevie going there was a bad idea. But she was determined to go, with or without me." Clark's jaw tightened as he struggled to control his emotions. "And considering the condition she came out in, it's a damn good thing she didn't go alone. I don't know, Jared, she won't have anything to do with me since. Maybe it's time to just let this go. I feel like I'm making life harder for her."