by Fox, Ella
She held up her hand to silence me, and my heart sank like a goddamn stone. What the fuck was it going to take to get her to see that professional help was the only way she’d truly be able to take back her life?
And then she spoke.
“I agree,” she whispered. “I need help.”
I knew I must’ve looked like an idiot with my eyes wide and my jaw slack, but I was so caught off guard that I wasn’t able to keep my reaction in check.
“Real help,” I pressed. “Not Harry’s bullshit hippy-dippy weirdo ex-girlfriend who swore all you needed was some peyote and a vision quest that would require the use of body paints and a sweat lodge, right?”
A ghost of a smile played at her lips. We’d had a lot of well-meaning people offer help after we lost Melody, but hands down Harry’s ex was the most bizarre. She’d been pretty normal for the first few months Harry dated her and then bam, she’d started growing dreads, changed her name, doused herself in patchouli, and spent her weekends doing drugs.
“You think there’s someone better equipped to help me than Blossom Planet Moonchild?” she asked. The question was barely out of her mouth before a snort of laughter came out.
“I sure fuckin’ hope so because the idea of you tripping balls in the desert with her scares the shit out of me.”
“Don’t worry—the idea of spending any alone time with her anywhere scares the shit out of me. Even in the depths of depression, I was still able to feel relief when Harry stopped seeing her. I liked her better when she was plain old Lisa Daniels from Texas. The jump to Blossom Planet Moonchild from Venus made things weird.”
“Only in LA,” I groaned.
Shaelyn laughed before her expression turned serious. “All jokes aside, yes, I know I need real help. In the morning I’ll get the phone book out and find a therapist.”
“Don’t get mad, but I already have a list of the ten best therapists in the country who specialize in traumatic loss. Three specifically deal with parents whose children were born asleep. It all comes down to what you feel comfortable with.”
I held my breath and prayed that she wouldn’t freak out that I had already looked into it. Instead, she looked relieved.
“I should’ve known you’d already have the information,” she murmurs. “I’m not mad, Garrett. The truth is that while I don’t understand why you’re still taking such good care of me, I’m thankful.”
She knew damn well why, so I knew what she really meant was that she needed a reminder. I held up my left hand and wiggled my ring finger to bring attention to my wedding band. “I’m your husband. It’s what I do.”
She nodded, eying my wedding ring as she twisted away at the smaller version she wore on her finger. The day we’d signed the divorce papers I’d known that most of the people at the conference table were surprised to see that both of us were wearing our rings. I knew it must’ve looked crazy to others, but the fact that we both continued to wear our rings was one of the things that gave me hope.
The only nod to the fact that Shaelyn believed we were divorced was her missing engagement ring. When I’d turned on the light in her bedroom and saw that it was next to the mini urn of Melody’s ashes on the chain she wore around her neck, I was relieved. She loved me as much as she always had.
With her willing to admit she needed help, I felt better about the future than I had in over a year.
Chapter Twelve
Shaelyn—August 2001
I woke up the following morning with Garrett spooned behind me, his right arm draped around my middle. About an hour after I’d agreed to get help and Garrett had given me the list of therapists he’d brought with him, I’d shut down. My head and heart had been through enough over the course of the day, and I needed time to breathe.
I wasn’t surprised that Garrett picked up on that right away. When he asked if I wanted to go with him to Carl’s Jr to pick up something to eat, I’d been glad for the reprieve. When we got back to Goldie’s, we’d talked about nothing important while we ate and once that was done we spent the rest of the night watching mindless television. At some point, I’d dozed off. The next thing I knew Garrett was carrying me to my bedroom.
I didn’t even consider saying no when he asked if he could sleep with me. I’d like to say that was because I was already more than half asleep, but the truth is that I wanted physical contact. I’m not sure which one of us was more surprised by that. Waking up with him wrapped around me felt natural. I stayed still and let him sleep as I silently unpacked the events of the previous day.
I felt as if some of the weight I’d been carrying had been lifted. There was a peace that came from remembering that I’d loved my daughter with my whole heart from the moment I’d realized I was pregnant, and that alone took a lot of pressure off of me. The other emotional scars I bore hadn’t resolved themselves, which was why I was willing to get help.
The fucked up mess inside of my head hadn’t gone away. I was still overwhelmed by the pain of losing our daughter, still scared to even consider that Garrett wouldn’t be losing out on a better life if he were with me. The part of me that felt like a toxic failure hadn’t gone silent. The difference was that for the first time since Melody died, there was a tiny light inside the darkness that had surrounded me. I wanted that light to grow so that I could face each day without the constant feeling that at any moment sadness might pull me under.
I’d studied the list of doctors Garrett had given me the night before, but I hadn’t made a firm decision on which one to go with before we went to sleep. I knew that I needed to be blasted out of the hole I’d fallen into—but it all came down to whether I had the courage to take such a drastic step.
I startled when I felt Garrett shift behind me. “What’re you thinking about?” he asked, his voice gravelly from sleep.
“I made a decision. I want to work with Dr. Cohen,” I blurted.
It felt like I was on pins and needles as I waited for him to say something. Of all the doctors, she was the only one on the east coast, and though he’d done his best to hide his anxiety about that the night before, I’d known it was there.
“I know it’s not right around the corner and her program is a little unconventional since it primarily focuses on the mother’s, but something tells me that’s what’s going to help me the most.”
“Then that’s who you need to go with.”
I loved him for supporting me even though I knew going across the country for help wasn’t the option he would’ve chosen for me.
“Thank you for—”
“I’m the one that should be saying thank you,” he said firmly. “I’m so fucking glad that you’re going to do this, Shae.”
“What do we do now?” I asked. “Do I call her?”
He let out a small chuckle and hugged me with the arm he had around my middle. “Every once in a while you’ll come across a perk of being famous. Harry has put feelers out to everyone on that list in the last two weeks. Every single one of them said they’d be willing to take you on whenever you were able to start. Tell me when you want to start, and I’ll have Harry call and finalize all of the details.”
I let out a joyless sound. “Well, the sooner the better. After hearing Jean rip me to shreds yesterday, I’m more than ready to get the hell out of Vegas.”
He tensed behind me, which told me he was pissed. I wasn’t surprised— Garrett was my staunchest defender and he didn’t take kindly to anyone speaking poorly of me. I got it since I was just as defensive about him. If Jean had been talking about him instead of me, I’d have confronted her.
“About that…” he said slowly. “Your grandmother is furious about what went down yesterday. Alan talked her out of going over to your neighbor’s house and knocking her the fuck out, but it wasn’t easy. He, uh, wants her to move in with him.”
I could tell by the tentative tone of his voice that he was concerned about how I’d take that. I hated that the people I loved were so cautious about giving me good news. In
fact, the hesitation Goldie had shown when she told me about Alan was one of the reasons I’d finally accepted that I needed to go to therapy. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life making people miserable.
“He really wants her to move in with him?” I asked, making sure that my tone made it clear that I was excited.
“Yep. He’s wild about her.”
Turning to face him, I grinned. “Goldie’s never lived with a man before. I’m so excited for her right now, and I couldn’t be happier that it’s Alan— he’s the best.”
Garrett smiled. “I’m rather fond of him.”
“Duh,” I laughed.
We grinned at each other for several seconds and for the first time in forever I felt a spark of the comfort and security I’d felt with him for the years we’d been together. I’d spent so long being uncomfortable in my own skin that I’d forgotten how to be happy.
Garrett’s brow furrowed as he studied me. “What’re you thinking?”
I forced myself not to look away when I answered. “I’m thinking I can’t wait to start seeing Dr. Cohen so I can feel like this more often. I want to get to a point where the better days can outnumber the not-so-great ones.”
He wrapped his free arm around my shoulders and hugged me to him. Dropping a soft kiss on my forehead, he held on tightly. “I’m glad today is a good day, baby.”
I hugged him back just as tightly, hoping he could feel how thankful I was for the way he stood by me. We stayed in bed for another half hour or so, talking about everything and nothing at all. I had questions about where, exactly, Alan planned to live with Goldie if she said yes to moving in with him (I had no doubt she would, but until she said yes I couldn’t be sure) and Garrett told me that Alan was willing to do whatever she wanted. He would either get a house in Vegas for them or she could move with him to LA. The choice would be hers.
We didn’t talk about the fact that we were both still wearing our wedding rings, even though we were divorced. We also didn’t talk about what would come after I started therapy. I thought there were two reasons for that. The first being that we didn’t want to burst the bubble we were in and the second being that we almost didn’t have to. We were in the same bed— that kind of said everything. I knew there would be many more conversations to come, but at the moment I was happy to enjoy something normal. It’d been a long, long time since I’d felt that way.
Reality intruded with a knock at my bedroom door. Garrett and I untangled and sat up before I called out, “Come in.” As soon as the door opened and I saw Goldie’s face, I knew whatever she was going to say wasn’t great.
Before I could say a word, Garrett spoke up. “What’s going on?”
“There are a few photographers outside. Alan recognized one of them and asked what they’re doing here and was told someone on the block tipped The Enquirer off that you’re here, Garrett.”
For once the issue wasn’t that Garrett’s fame meant the press were relentless about gossip—it was that the neighbors who had once kept quiet about his comings and goings from this house were now willing to sell him out. I knew Jewel was responsible for the shift from loyalty to voyeur. It sucked that once again she’d thrown a grenade into the lives of the family she’d never been loyal to. By spreading her vitriol, she’d all-but-guaranteed that the neighbors would turn their backs on us. Goldie’s house was no longer a safe haven, and I hated that most of all.
I wasn’t at all happy to know that the press were outside. There’d been a feeding frenzy when I filed for divorce, which probably would’ve upset me more if I hadn’t felt so dead inside. At the time, it infuriated and upset Garrett more than it affected me. In an effort to get them to stop Garrett sat down for a no-holds-barred interview with Barbara Walters, which was one of the most painful things I’d ever watched. Not only had he talked about the struggle we were both experiencing in the aftermath of losing our child, he’d bluntly told her that he was still in love with me and didn’t want a divorce.
He’d made a plea for me to be left alone to mourn and for the most part, it worked. There were still photographers who didn’t care that he’d asked for privacy, but they were the exception and not the rule. Most were empathetic enough to realize that being screamed at by photographers wasn’t what anyone dealing with the loss of a child should have to endure. Clearly leaving me alone wasn’t on the agenda anymore once they knew Garrett was with me.
After Goldie left the room, Garrett and I got dressed and then met up with her and Alan in the kitchen. With the three of them watching me like hawks, I realized that once again, the people I loved were more concerned about me than they were about themselves. That was like fuel for me to plow ahead and change. Either I could let the loss of privacy halt the progress I felt I was making, or I could deal with it.
I felt like I took more than I gave and quite frankly, I was tired of being the squeaky wheel. That being the case, I chose option two.
Chapter Thirteen
Shaelyn—August 2001
With no choice but to leave Goldie’s house, the four of us had checked into suites at Caesar’s. It was clear nothing could be the same for my grandmother. Not because of the press coming for Garrett—but because of the neighborhood gossip. She’d pulled me aside and told me she was going to move in with Alan—in Los Angeles. I think she’d been nervous about my reaction so when I told her how happy I was, I could tell it took a weight off her shoulders.
* * *
After Harry made the arrangements for us at Caesar’s hotel, he’d reached out to Dr. Cohen to see when I could begin treatment. Since she’d already known that Garrett was trying to get me in, she was willing to start right away. Everything came together fast, which was probably good since it meant I didn’t have time to overthink.
“You’re sure you don’t want me to go with you?”
I nodded as I looked up from the suitcase I had just finished packing. Garrett was watching me from his spot on one of the two lounge chairs that sat to the left of the bed. He’d tried to help me pack up the clean laundry one of the staff from Caesar’s had dropped off twenty minutes before, but it wasn’t like putting my outfit from the day before and the tee shirt I’d worn to bed into my suitcase required a lot of effort, so I’d asked him to let me do it by myself.
“Like Dr. Cohen explained during the phone consult last night, I have to devote myself to this process for the next six weeks. We both know if you’re with me, the press will descend and I’m afraid that will derail any progress I could make. I won’t hole up in luxury hotel suites to hide from them forever,” I said, gesturing around the bedroom of the hotel suite as I spoke to illustrate my point. “Right now, they’re more than I can deal with. Dr. Cohen said the first few weeks of therapy might leave me feeling raw. I’m ready for that, but the added pressure of any media interest wouldn’t be welcome.”
“You shouldn’t have to traipse across the country by yourself. I fucking hate my job right now,” he grumbled.
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that sometimes I hated it too—but it wasn’t like it was going to change. It wasn’t like it came as a surprise. I’d known how famous he was when I married him. It was time for me to stop and focus on the things I could change instead of the things I couldn’t.
“It’s going to be okay,” I assured him. “It’s just a few weeks, and it’s not like I’ll be alone—Tia will be with me.”
I’d first said no one needed to come with me at all, but Garrett had quickly vetoed that. After a lot of back and forth, I’d agreed with his logic. Asking my best friend to come had been a no brainer. Since she was taking some time off school and hadn’t gotten a job yet, it made the most sense to ask her. Having Garrett go with me would’ve been an invitation to chaos, and I didn’t want Goldie to lose time with Alan because she had to babysit me. That left Tia, which wasn’t a bad thing.
“I’m glad she’ll be there with you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t wish it could be me instead.”
In
some ways, I wished it could be him too but it was time for me to learn to stand on my own two feet. There was too much coddling and although I’d leaned on the people I loved the most very heavily, it was necessary for me to grow and change. If not, I’d continue to hide from life.
“You’re doing enough,” I assured him, “but I need to do this on my own as much as possible.”
Tia was the best friend a girl could have, which was why taking her was ideal. Although she loved me, her knee jerk response wasn’t to step in and try to bear any burdens for me in the way Garrett or my grandmother would. I needed to be stronger, needed to fight some of my own battles without my family trying to pave the way for me. Losing Melody was ugly—finding some semblance of normalcy wasn’t going to be a cakewalk, no matter how hard the people who loved me the most tried to make it so.
Rising from the chair he’d been sitting in, Garrett took the few steps to where I stood at the foot of the bed and pulled me into his arms. Tilting my head back, I looked up into his eyes.
“Promise me that if you need me, you’ll tell me. I’ll be on a plane before you even finish asking.”
I knew he would. Garrett’s love and devotion were rock steady, always. I’d never doubted how he felt about me, ever. My doubts were always about myself, and my own worthiness. I was hoping Dr. Cohen could help me address that. I didn’t know why this beautiful man loved me the way he did, but I did know that I loved him just as much.
“I promise I’ll tell you if I need you,” I answered.
His head dipped toward me slowly, like he was giving me time to pull away. Instead, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and melted into him as his lips covered mine. When his tongue dipped into my mouth and touched mine, goosebumps broke out on my skin. The kiss started slow but quickly took on a life of its own, a kind of homecoming after a long absence. After a year of thinking I was incapable of feeling true passion, I was relieved to discover that I was dead wrong.