Magic in Our Hearts

by Jeanne Mccann

  Taylor waited for Brett to continue. She was surprised that Brett was being so open. “I’ve been drinking every day for over two years. I’ve made it one of my many talents,” she replied with a small bow.

  Taylor winced at the self-deprecating humor. She reached out and placed her hand on Brett’s arm in a comforting gesture. “I’m going to call your doctor to get some help to deal with your drinking. You’re going to go through some serious withdrawal.”

  Brett was startled by Taylor’s touch. Her hand felt hot against her skin. “I know.”

  “I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Brett looked up into blue eyes that promised so much, and she lost her heart again to the woman who had haunted her for so many years. But she knew in her heart that she couldn’t stop drinking for anyone. It was far too late. “Thank you.”

  CHAPTER 9

  By the end of the day Brett had consumed almost half a bottle of Scotch before Taylor found her lying on the floor of her room in a complete stupor. Panicked, Taylor called Brett’s family doctor who arrived within an hour.

  “She has serious alcohol poisoning along with so many drugs in her system. If I didn’t know better, I might think Brett might have been trying to kill herself.” The older doctor spoke seriously to Taylor and Brett’s mother. Taylor had called Mrs. Camden immediately after calling the doctor, and she had arrived twenty minutes later.

  “Oh God! I was afraid of this,” Roselin cried as she heard the words that she had been dreading for almost a year. Roselin suspected her daughter was suicidal.

  “I pushed her too hard.” Taylor’s voice was full of shame. “She didn’t want me here and I pushed her.”

  “It’s not you, Taylor. Brett has been on this path for over a year.” Roselin reached out and clasped Taylor’s hand. “What can we do, doctor?”

  “I suggest we put her in a clinic where she can get help and get all the alcohol and drugs out of her system.”

  “Is she conscious?”

  “Barely.”

  “The two women followed the doctor into Brett’s room. Brett lay quietly in her bed, an IV taped to her arm. Her face was pale, her eyes sunken as she watched them approach.

  “Brett, the doctor is suggesting that you go to a clinic for some help getting the alcohol and drugs out of your system.”

  “No!”

  “But, Brett …”

  “Mother, I know you just want to help me, but I won’t go.”

  “Honey, I need you to try and get better.”

  “Why, Mother? What’s the point?”

  “You’re a young woman with a long life ahead of you.”

  “Yeah, with this ruined body!”

  Taylor had heard enough. “Your body isn’t ruined! It’s your attitude that’s causing the biggest problems. The Brett I knew would fight to get back on her feet.”

  “That Brett died on a ski slope.” Brett turned away from them.

  “Honey, you promised me you would try once more for me.” Roselin pleaded with her terribly wounded child, knowing she wouldn’t be able to deny her.

  Brett turned to look at her mother, naked anguish on her face. She loved her, and no one else in the world could exact promises from her. She sighed and then spoke with resignation. “I will try once more for you.” Taylor released her breath slowly as she fought to keep silent. She knew this was Brett’s last chance to heal her wounded soul. She had to get through to her.

  Somehow she had to make Brett realize her own value.

  Brett kept her word to her mother. She stopped drinking from that moment on, and within the next four hours there was no question that Brett was going through severe alcohol withdrawal. Taylor spoke to both of Brett’s primary doctors, and they sent a nurse to help Taylor through the difficult withdrawal period.

  The nurse showed up early that next morning. Both doctors had encouraged Taylor to admit her to a hospital or specialized care center, but Taylor knew she would lose Brett completely if she forced her into that kind of facility. Taylor would make sure she received the necessary support while remaining at home.

  The nurse had put her on an IV to replenish fluids and to give her some respite from the stomach cramping and nausea that had started within twenty-four hours of her last drink. Mrs. Camden arrived by mid-afternoon to check on Brett, and Taylor explained clearly what to expect. The tears in Roselin’s eyes pierced Taylor’s empathetic heart.

  “I’m sorry, Roselin.”

  “No, it’s okay. Can I go in and see her for a minute?”

  “Yes, but let me will warn you, she looks awful and feels even worse.” It killed Taylor to watch Brett struggle with the pain. What was even worse was that Brett completely ignored Taylor.

  “But she’s cooperating?”

  “Roselin, she’s not even complaining, though I know she’s hurting. She promised she’d trust us.” Taylor gently hugged the tiny woman who cared so much for her wounded daughter. “Go sit with her.” Taylor watched as Roselin entered her daughter’s room and then turned back to the nurse who was temporarily living in. “Jane is your room okay?”

  “Its fine, Taylor. Thank you. Do you want me to take the night shift?”

  “No, I’ll stay up with Brett. You get a good night’s sleep tonight. I expect tomorrow is going to be even worse.”

  Jane Bradford placed her hand on Taylor’s arm as she spoke. “She’s going to get very bad. Are you sure you want to stay here? I could get another nurse to help out.”

  “No, thanks very much. If Brett can do this, so can I.” And Taylor meant it.

  She would not abandon Brett, no matter what it took. Even if Brett ended up hating her, she would not leave her without trying everything in her power to help Brett heal.

  An hour later Brett began to have dry heaves and the shakes and she asked her mother to leave. Roselin wanted to stay, but Taylor convinced her to come back in a day or so when Brett was feeling a little better. She wanted Brett to have as much privacy as possible as she went through this hell and Roselin didn’t need to witness her daughter’s pain while in her own fragile condition.

  Taylor entered Brett’s darkened room and walked quietly up to the bed. Brett lay silent under the covers, her lids closed and her long eyelashes against her cheeks. Taylor sat down next to Brett hoping she would continue to sleep, but Brett’s eyes flickered open and she watched Taylor.

  “Honey, how are you doing?”

  “Okay. It’s manageable.” Brett’s voice was raspy from vomiting, and her skin felt clammy.

  Taylor reached out and clasped Brett’s hand in her own, a show of support and comfort. Too exhausted to hide her real feelings, Brett laced her fingers with Taylor’s and her eyes slid shut again but not before she whispered, “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “So am I, honey, so am I.” Taylor’s heart filled with emotion for the woman who was fighting so hard to heal herself.

  Taylor sat quietly by Brett’s side for over an hour before Brett again experienced stomach cramping followed by more vomiting.

  “Get the nurse. I don’t want you here!” Brett gasped, as Taylor held a bowl for her to vomit into.

  “I’m not leaving you.” Taylor brushed the tangled hair out of Brett’s eyes.

  “I’m going to get a warm wash cloth for your face.” Taylor came back and gently cleaned Brett’s face. She was once more lying quietly in the bed. “Taylor why did you come here?”

  “Your mother asked me to, and I told you I care about you. I want to be here.”

  “What if I don’t want you to see me like this?”

  “Oh Brett, no matter what was happening with you, I’d want to be here.” Brett’s hand grew slack, as exhaustion started to overtake her, and she made a slow slide into sleep. Vulnerable and overwhelmed, Brett spoke from deep in her heart. “I love.…”

  Taylor smiled and responded. “I love you, too.” But Brett had missed her dec-laration as exhaustion and pain took their toll on her weary body and she slept.

&nbs
p; Taylor got as comfortable as possible on her chair and watched over the sleeping woman, her fingers still holding onto Brett’s.

  Brett grew steadily worse throughout the night, as dry heaves and convulsions kept her restless and shuddering in agony. She sweated until she had soaked her bed sheets. Taylor changed them around three in the morning, rolling Brett from side to side until she was lying on a dry sheet. She shivered and shook, her teeth rattling.

  “I’m so cold.”

  “I know, honey. I put on extra blanket on your bed.” Brett moaned, and her body trembled from head to toe. It was hard for Taylor to sit calmly next to her while she was in so much discomfort.

  Brett cried out softly in her pain, and Taylor could stand it no longer. Standing up, she stripped her shirt and jeans off and slid under the covers, moving Brett over in the bed. Wrapping her arms around Brett, she pulled her against her own warm body trying to share her body heat with Brett. Brett rolled over and tucked her head under Taylor’s chin, her arm around her waist. She mumbled against Taylor’s neck.

  “Go to sleep, honey.”

  “I remembered how you smell. You smell so good. For months I would remember your scent at the oddest times. I missed you so much. It killed me when you stopped wanting to be with me.” Brett’s lips slid against Taylor’s neck and, despite the circumstances, Taylor felt heat well up through her body. She could no more control her reactions than her ragged breathing. One look at Brett wounded and suffering had locked Taylor’s feelings deep within her heart. She loved Brett with every fiber of her body.

  Taylor’s presence seemed to help Brett relax, and she slept heavily tucked against Taylor’s body, her face close to Taylor’s neck. Both women slept quietly until after seven the next morning. Brett was the first to awaken when she became aware of a warm body next to hers. Her eyes opened wide at the sight of Taylor’s face within inches of her own. Brett allowed herself time to gaze with pleasure at Taylor’s face relaxed in sleep. She was so beautiful that it made Brett ache with need and want for something she had lost years earlier. Now she knew she was less than nothing, barely able to walk. She stared at Taylor for a long time, just enjoying the feel of lying next to her. It would do no good to wish for things she couldn’t have. That’s what had driven her to drinking herself into a stupor in the first place. She pledged that she would do the best she could do with her therapy—for her mother, for Taylor, and for herself. She needed to find herself again.

  Taylor stirred in her arms, her eyes slowly opening to find Brett watching her sleep. “How are you feeling, honey?”

  “Better, not so badly right now.”

  “I’m glad. I’d better get up.” Taylor gently pulled away from Brett and stood up next to the bed, blushing as she stepped into her pants and shirt. Brett’s eyes never left Taylor. Her slender body was exactly what Brett had fantasized about long after they had stopped seeing each other. “I’ll grab a shower and see if I can find you something to eat. You need to get some food into your belly.”

  “I don’t know about that. I’m not sure if I can keep anything down yet.” Taylor smiled down at the calm, quiet woman who looked up at her with such complete trust in her eyes. “We’ll start with some toast.”

  “Can I take a shower?”

  “Absolutely. Let’s tape over your IV so that you don’t get it wet. Let me help you to the bathroom. You might still be a little unsteady.” Brett hated that she needed help, but she didn’t complain as Taylor slowly walked her toward the bathroom. “Do you need me to help you in the shower?”

  “No, I can manage. Thanks.”

  “Okay, honey, I’ll be back in a little bit.” Brett sighed as Taylor left the bathroom. She wasn’t sure what she would do when Taylor finally left for good, but she couldn’t think about that at the moment. She was going to enjoy every minute she had with her. She moaned as she moved into the shower. Her body ached as she started the spray, but she knew she could do it. She had made promises to her mother and Taylor, and she renewed her vow to keep them.

  CHAPTER 10

  For over three days Brett struggled with recurring sweats and shakes as the alcohol slowly moved out of her system. Every night, long after Brett went to bed, Taylor sat watch over her sleeping form before heading off to her own room. Jane kept watch over Brett in the daytime. Brett was drained and listless from the hammering her body had taken, but she was finally able to eat and keep the food down. Taylor had Helen make more of the vegetable soup that she knew Brett liked, and they were both sitting at the kitchen table eating while Fran cleaned Brett’s room.

  Taylor had convinced Brett that dressing and getting out of her room would be good for her. They were going to sit out on the deck with Brett’s mother later that afternoon and soak in some sunshine. It would be the first time in a long while that Brett actually got out of the house.

  The nurse had left that morning announcing that Brett was over the worst of her withdrawal from alcohol. She did make a point to Brett that if she tried drinking again, she would be right back where she started. Brett had listened half-heartedly, not able to think beyond that day. Her world had shrunk to living from moment to moment, getting by the best she could.

  “So I thought tomorrow we could start with some light leg exercises. It might get your mind off of your stomach.” Taylor grinned at Brett, as Brett moaned in anticipation of more pain.

  “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” Brett grinned back as she ate her soup.

  For the first time in a long time Brett was actually enjoying her food. She couldn’t remember the last time she sat down for a regular meal.

  “No, just making you suffer,” Taylor chuckled. “Seriously, I won’t ask you to do anything you can’t do, but I need you to trust me. I’ve spoken to both of your doctors and they agree that you’re up to full therapy.” Brett listened to Taylor and hesitated before responding. She needed to make Taylor understand clearly what Brett already knew. “Taylor, you saw my records and you spoke to the doctors. I’ll never be able to ski again. Hell, I’ll be lucky if I can walk without help. My left arm is almost useless. And I know I’m this way as a result of my own actions, no one else’s.”

  “Brett, it doesn’t matter how it happened, and yes, I know how extensive your injuries are. But I’ve worked with others who have had total knee replacement, and I know you can fully recover. Some of my clients have been able to go back to running, skiing, and almost every other activity.”

  “Taylor, I got drunk and skied into a tree. I deserve what happened to me!” Brett lashed out.

  “Brett, honey, look at me, please. I know this isn’t fair and no one, no matter what, deserves what happened to you.” Taylor’s face was full of compassion for Brett. She understood the anger she had just witnessed, and she wanted to channel it into helping Brett recover.

  “I made a stupid decision.”

  “You may not have used good judgment, but we’ll make sure that you recover.

  I promise you, I’ll do everything in my power to help you, but it will take a lot of work on your part, too. I need you to believe in yourself. That same drive that made you a world-class skier is what will help you recover now.”

  “You don’t know what it was like laying in the hospital for all those months. I almost wish I had died,” Brett whispered, her head turned away from Taylor in an attempt to keep from crying.

  Taylor gasped and reached out to cup Brett’s chin, forcing her to look back at her. “Honey, I know exactly what you’re going through. When I was fourteen, my parents were killed in a car accident and my back was broken. I also suffered internal injuries that took a long time to heal. They removed my spleen, and my kidneys were damaged. Along with that I had a fractured tibia and a concussion that caused double vision and nausea for weeks. It was months before I got out of the hospital and over a year before I could walk or move normally. I felt exactly the same way—I wanted to die.”

  Brett’s kind heart filled with anguish for Taylor. “Go
d, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, I fully recovered with the help of a lot of doctors, nurses, and months of physical therapy. But I want you to remember that when I ask you to work harder, I know what I’m talking about. I wouldn’t ask you to do anything that I wouldn’t do myself. There are times when you’ll hate me and want to give up. I’m asking you now to trust me and believe in yourself. I believe in you completely.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I know you, Brett. And your mother has faith in you as well.”

  “She’s my best friend.” Brett’s eyes were bright with unshed tears.

  “Your mother?”

  “Yes.” Brett’s voice broke as she talked. “When my father died, we became even closer. She never yelled at me, no matter how badly I behaved. I’ve given her so many reasons for giving up on me and she never did.”

  “She loves you.”

  “And I love her. Even when I came out, she never once questioned my lifestyle. She always told me she was proud of me and knew that when I found what I was looking for I would settle down. I’ve disappointed her over and over. I wanted to win a gold medal at the Olympics and give it to her.” Brett’s eyes overflowed with tears.

  “She would have liked that.” Taylor grasped Brett’s hand in her own as she listened. Her heart ached over the broken dreams and painful future facing Brett and her mother.

  “Now, I have nothing left to offer her, and she’s dying.”

  “You have your life, Brett. All your mother wants for you is a happy life. I’m so sorry that you’re losing her, but I know she wants only for you to be healthy and happy again.”

  “And how can I do that?” Bitterness made her voice rough.

  “You can work your ass off to get yourself in shape and start living your life again. Prove to your mother that you are the daughter she has such faith in.”