My parents took turns with Mimi keeping watch over me for the rest of the day. They hadn’t been this vigilant since I had influenza when I was nine. I knew that both Mimi and my mother were keeping watch over me out of genuine concern for my wellbeing but I had the strongest feeling that my father was only there because he hoped I would eventually break down and talk with him about my night terrors. He spent countless hours sitting in the rocking chair by the fire reading the newspaper or some other book, rarely speaking but always keeping one eye keen to everything I was doing.
I finished up my homework early and began reading Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen. It was a great escape, which enabled me to ignore the constant glances from my father. I got lost in the story and dreamed of what Europe looked like and how it would be to live there instead of Chicago. I wondered if things there were easier but as I became engrossed in the story it became clear they weren’t.
By midafternoon my mother came in to relieve my father so that he could eat some lunch. I had just set my book on my nightstand to give my eyes a break. After hours of reading the words were becoming blurry and starting to run together.
My mother picked up the book and flipped it open to my bookmark. “You know, I read this story years ago. It is my second favorite story by Jane Austen. Pride and Prejudice was always first. I love Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. Mrs. Bennet was so socially ungraceful and an obvious embarrassment to the entire family except for the younger two daughters who behaved just like her.”
“Pride and Prejudice is my favorite also.”
“Would you like me to read to you aloud?”
“That would be nice. Thank you.”
I closed my eyes and listened to the words flow smoothly from her. My mother’s voice was soft and soothing. She spoke with confidence and strength. I looked over at her for a moment and wished I could be more like her. Her thick blond hair was woven up in a stylish bun at the base of her neck and her vibrant blue eyes shone brightly as they read the words across the pages. She was graceful, kind and everyone in the city regarded her as a lady of the highest morals and character.
My mother read until I drifted off to sleep. For the first time in a long time no dreams or visions invaded my mind. I am not sure how long my mother continued reading after she realized I was asleep but the sound of her voice stayed with me throughout the night and I slept straight on until the next morning.
CHAPTER 9
Sunday, November 08, 2009
I REMAINED STILL, too afraid to open my eyes, utterly unsure of the images dancing around behind my eyelids. It was getting harder to differentiate between ones that were actually dreams and those that were remembrances from my other life. I hated that the only way to be positive was by calling Jackson and telling him about it, but not enough to stop me from picking up the phone. He answered on the third ring.
“Hello,” a sleepy voice responded.
“Did I wake you?” I hadn’t even checked to see what time it was before I called.
“What time is it?”
I had a horrible suspicion that it was extremely early and I suddenly regretted phoning. I glanced over at my alarm clock on the night stand: 7:34. Ouch!
“Early. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“No. It is all right.”
“Go back to sleep, baby. I’m sorry.” I started to hang up, but I heard him reply.
“Wait! Are you okay?” His voice was soft and sweet.
“Just another memory. Or dream. I’m not sure.”
“What was it about?” he inquired, clearly interested.
“Who are Maryanne and Elizabeth?”
“Friends of yours. Well, Elizabeth is. Not so much Maryanne. I guess she was as some point, but not any longer. Why?”
I went on to recall all that I had seen. I gave him explicit details of my encounters with these young women apparently after some altercation I had with Olivia about our wedding and my brother William. I wasn’t sure how I knew that, but I did. It was so incredibly strange. I was seeing things so much clearer now and the pieces were starting to fall into place.
I couldn’t help but wonder how my other self was reacting to these episodes or glimpses of my world or if I was having them there at all. I had no way of putting it together or reaching out—tearing down or breaking through that barrier to connect with my other self. I wished there was some way of touching the perception between each conscious where the two halves of my psyche collided. I thought of asking Jackson but I truly feared his reply.
“Jocelyn?” Jackson broke my interlude.
“I’m sorry. What were you saying?”
“Did you hear anything I was saying?” he chuckled.
“Of course.” Most of it anyway.
“Would you like some breakfast?” he offered, still laughing at me.
“What do you have in mind?”
“My house. Twenty minutes?”
“What? No! I’m still lying in bed in my pajamas.”
“So?”
“I’m not even dressed,” my voice trailed off.
“So come over in your PJ’s. We’ll have a pajama party.”
“No thanks. I’m not quite ready for you to see me like that. You’d turn tail and run.”
“How can you say that? I saw you in the hospital. Remember?” Guess he has seen me at my worst.
“Fine, give me thirty minutes.” I couldn’t help but laugh at his logic.
“See you then.”
I took the fastest shower, for me at least, in recorded history. After throwing on some jeans and a light hooded sweater, not being sure yet how cold it was out, I quietly snuck down the stairs. No one else was awake so I scribbled down a quick note and left it on the island before heading out.
Jackson answered his front door wearing jeans and a light grey button down shirt over a dark grey thermal. He was too breathtaking for this early in the morning. His hair was still damp from his own shower and the normally gentle waves were much more prominent. His face was unshaven and held that sexy stubble of growth.
He smiled warmly and invited me inside. I could smell his cologne as I paused in the doorway for an eagerly anticipated morning kiss. I melted into him as he drew me closer. Everything about him was intoxicating.
“I missed you,” he whispered in my ear, closing the door behind him. I smiled and followed him into the kitchen.
The most amazing aroma of bacon and blueberry pancakes filled the air. I was surprised to see both his parents up, dressed, and looking perfect standing over the island stove.
“Good morning, Jocelyn. How are you?” Emily greeted me.
“Wonderful. Thank you.” I leaned against the bar stool. “I wasn’t expecting you both up so early.”
I was suddenly embarrassed for intruding on their morning.
“We always get up early,” Robert stated nonchalantly. “Old habit.”
“I see. Not me. I could sleep until noon or later if allowed,” I smiled sheepishly.
Robert flipped over another pancake absentmindedly. “Do you have any plans for today?”
“Not really.” I looked over at Jackson wondering what was up.
“We were planning on driving into the city to wander around and do some early Christmas shopping. Would you care to join us?” Emily offered. She was slicing up some bananas and placing them in little fruit bowls with strawberries and green grapes.
I watched her for a moment utterly amazed at how carefully she prepared every detail of their meals with such precision. I was beginning to doubt if this house even had a box of cereal in it.
“I’d love to. What time are you planning on leaving?” I helped her carry the bowls over to the table that was already perfectly set as if expecting a dinner party instead of a typical Sunday breakfast.
“Right after we eat. I wanted to get an early start. There is so much I want to buy this year for my grandbabies.” Her voice was so sweet and caring.
I thought how wonderful it
must be for those lucky babies to have such grandparents. Then it dawned on me. They were going to be my children’s grandparents as well. The mere thought of it filled me with warmth and happiness.
“My mom isn’t on call this weekend. So my parents will probably sleep until noon and trust me, I know better than to wake them up,” I laughed, following her back into the kitchen.
“Oh, do not worry about that. I spoke with your mother last evening and asked her if we could take you with us. She said that it was fine.” This woman never ceases to amaze me.
Robert carried in the mountain of blueberry pancakes and Jackson brought in the platter of bacon into the dining room. There was a pitcher of orange juice on the table beside an elegant antique sterling silver kettle filled with freshly brewed coffee. I stiffened back a giggle to myself at the drastic comparison of their family dynamics as opposed to my own. I couldn’t recall ever in my life sitting down and having a family breakfast together unless we were on vacation somewhere and eating at a restaurant.
Jackson pulled out my chair for me as Robert did the same for Emily. There was certainly something to be said about both of them being gentlemen and their mannerisms were definitely from another time period.
“Jackson mentioned that you are starting to remember flashes.” Robert passed the platter of pancakes to his son.
“Yes. Almost every morning I wake up with clear images of different things. Unfortunately, I’m only seeing glimpses of events. Most of them don’t make much sense so I have to ask him to explain the context of them. I’m sure I’m driving him insane with my constant questioning.” I smiled across the table at Jackson who was taking a bite of his fruit, but still a grin slid across his stunning face.
“Not at all. I am thrilled things are coming together so nicely and that you are no longer passing out around me. It is quite disheartening to make your fiancée physically ill every time you are near.” His eyes shone as his smile deepened.
“I admit that was a bit of a downer,” I laughed. “At least that part is behind us.”
***
The four of us drove into downtown Chicago and parked in a large parking garage off the busy city streets. We headed off on foot to explore the various shops. The air was cool, but not too bad for early November. It seemed so far, at least this year, we had been fairly lucky as far as the weather was concerned.
Jackson and I held hands down the street following the example of his parents. I was still taken aback by the amount of affection the two of them displayed towards one another. Just the simple things, like holding hands, a tender glance, or an arm draped around a waist. My parents never displayed such behavior around the house let alone out in public. I almost felt sorry for the relationship they shared as I glanced over at Jackson’s face shining under the late morning sun. I wanted desperately to believe it would be impossible for us to fall so far out of love with one another.
After several hours of browsing through an enormous number of shops, Emily had purchased a small toy store amount of gifts for her three grandchildren. She was practically floating with anticipation for her family to arrive for Thanksgiving break. It saddened her they were away from them so much.
We headed to some quaint little upscale old-fashioned restaurant around one o’clock for lunch. The place was charming, with an old world atmosphere that fit in perfect conjunction with the company I was keeping.
Once we placed our orders, Robert turned to me with a very serious look on his face. “Have you considered yet how you are going to approach your parents about the wedding?”
“We were thinking about spring break.”
“Do you believe your engagement can remain a secret that long?” He gave me an inquisitive look.
“I hope so. Only the four of us and Jenna and Kyle know about it.”
“And you do not believe they will accidently let it slip?” Emily asked.
“I don’t believe so. I would hate for my family to hear about it from someone other than me. It’s going to be difficult enough to explain without that kind of added pressure.” I took a deep breath.
“I am sure that Jenna and Kyle are trustworthy. Jocelyn should be fine until spring break,” Jackson assured his parents.
“Fair enough.” Robert dropped the subject even though I got the impression he was far from satisfied with the situation.
“Are there a lot of people who have this EVE gift?” I asked in attempt to change the expression on Robert’s face and the concern plaguing Emily’s. Robert cleared his throat and glanced for a second over at his wife.
“I wish I could give you exact figures, but there really is no way of knowing for sure. Since it is inherited, it typically stays within families. However, occasionally it does skip generations, like in your case. Typically, family members recognize the signs when it begins in late adolescent or early adulthood and are there to help and guide the individual through the transition. But there are always some who have lost their families or their families have broken apart, who do not have help and unfortunately those individuals usually do not fare as well.”
“How do people deal with this without help? I mean I thought I was losing my mind or something.”
I was so engrossed in his words that I barely noticed the waitress dropping off our food.
“There are a few theories about that,” Emily offered.
“Theories. No proven facts, mind you. It gets extremely complicated fast and will make you crazy if you concentrate on it too hard trying to figure it out,” Jackson laughed, breaking off a piece of his dinner roll and popping it in his mouth.
“True. There are some who have EVE who strongly believe that those who have no assistance or experience this alone are those who are normally diagnosed with schizophrenia.” Robert’s expression made me think that this look was how he must appear in a courtroom, serious yet compassionate.
“Schizophrenia?”
“Are you very familiar with the disorder?” Robert asked me.
“Some. We covered it in AP Psych. I remember Mr. Rand talking about the positive and negative symptoms.” I locked eyes with Jackson who nodded with a slight grin.
“Some people with EVE believe that the positive symptoms of experiencing hallucinations, delusions, and oddities of perception are actually the individual seeing and hearing episodes as the barrier begins to break down between the two consciousnesses. The absence of emotions, jumbled words and lack of ability to adjust and relate to their ever-changing perception of reality is believed to be the result of a deep depression brought about by their inability to cope. It is believed, by some, that their fall from grace and the bizarre reports of their symptoms leads physicians to diagnose schizophrenia,” Robert explained.
“All of that makes sense if they had inherited EVE. I experienced all of those things,” I interjected.
“But if no one was there to explain it to you, guide you through the transition, there is a good chance you would be lost also,” Emily added.
“Yes, I can see that.” The mere thought gave me the chills. I honestly couldn’t imagine going through this alone. “But what if a physician, who also had EVE, was there to guide them?”
“Most individuals who have EVE, that we know of anyway, tend to shy away from the medical profession. It tends to become incredibly frustrating, leaving the person feeling more helpless than anything else.” Robert gestured helplessly, but I looked at him with confusion.
“Why? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Everyone’s time period varies. Some are a great deal more extensive than ours. For us, it varies over a hundred and thirty years, give or take, but there are some that vary as much as five hundred or more. The most I have ever heard of was seven hundred years. In the medical profession, imagine that you had learned and been trained within the current era and you have almost completed your education when the barriers begin to crumble. Let’s say your family is there for you and you make a smooth transition into both your realities. Let’s also s
ay you now conceive that you live in the time of the American Revolution and are also a physician there. However, everything that you know you can perform to help save the lives of patients in 2009 is not available, neither the instruments nor the medications. You have virtually no ability to do what you have been trained to do. You would feel completely frustrated by the extreme limitations of the circumstances, which in turn, leaves you feeling utterly helpless,” Robert painted a grim picture.
“The majority of those with EVE, somehow unconsciously, have the same professions in both their existences,” Jackson added with a chuckled. “Of course, there are some exceptions.”
The four of us sat in silence numbly eating our lunch, lost in our own thoughts. I guess I never really considered that the time difference between eras could be so great. I was so consumed with the abnormalities within my own eras that the numerous others and their dilemmas hadn’t really crossed over into my consciousness. That brought about an entire new realm of questions.
“You said the time difference between some eras can sometimes be quite substantial, right?” I interrupted the silence.
“Yes, it can be. Obviously, none of them would be close enough to overlap. I have never heard of one being less than ninety years,” Emily replied.
“If that is true, doesn’t that leave quite a lot of speculation about prophets and their so-called predictions about future events?” This was much more complicated than I could have ever imagined.
Robert looked between his son and wife before he suddenly broke into a low chuckle with a wide grin. “You are quick. I believe that I severely underestimated your wit because I am more familiar with your other self. Jackson was correct in saying that your education here has had a direct impact on the differences in your two personalities.”
“I don’t understand.” Could my other self be that different?
“It normally takes others much longer to come to that realization. Most are more focused on their own eras and concentrating on how to adjust to the vast differences between them.” Emily grinned and placed her hand over mine.
“I told you she was different,” Jackson laughed, looking directly at his father.
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