Broken (4 page)

Jen

The weeks go by uneventfully and I have to force myself to leave the house just to see Dr. Collins.  As the time goes by, I start feeling more and more at home in my new place and yet still lonely.  For months now I’ve managed to avoid David, but I know soon I will have to face reality and accept the fact that there might be something there between us, however small.  I mean, for the first time in a long while I actually don’t mind someone’s company.  Am I in love?  Not by a long shot.  But I do like him… I think.  No matter how long goes by without seeing him, my heart still does this strange thing, as I think of the few touches we’ve exchanged. 

The day my mother walked out of my house crying was the day I decided to get my life back.  It was the really cold, hard slap I needed to realize that something had to change.  I was too much of a coward to follow Sam to the other side, and loved my mom too much to keep causing her so much pain.  That very day I made the difficult but important phone call to Dr. Collins, and, as expected, she was more than happy to help me.

“Very well dear,” she said when I asked if she would see me the next day. “I was actually going to take the day off and do some shopping, but I’ll make an exception for you.  Be here around eleven, not a moment later.”

I wish I could tell you that I had a restful sleep that night but I would be lying.  The truth is I didn’t sleep a wink, as thoughts of Sam and what could’ve been were haunting me.  I know if he were alive and I was gone, I would want the best for him.  I would want him to move on no matter how hard it is to acknowledge that.  It is simply the truth.  We all want the people we love to be happy.
Always. 

As I am getting ready for my meeting with Dr. Collins, I try to prepare myself for whatever she’s going to have me do. I know it won’t be easy; after all, I’ve been this way for over five years, and I’m sure I’m not going get my life back just by the snap of her fingers.  I’ll have to face my demons and fight them back with all I got.  Not just for my mom but for me also.

I dress in comfortable and warm clothes: jeans and a cashmere turtleneck.  I hide my hair under the knitted hat that my mom gave me last Christmas and slide my arms into the heavy coat, praying I won’t freeze my buns on the way.  The moment I step outside, the wind cuts through the layers of my clothes and I wonder if maybe I should drive there.  I decide the walk will do me good and help me clear my head.  I pass David’s house and force myself not to look up, just in case he might be at his kitchen window. 

The streets are covered with fresh snow and I know by midnight the whole street is going to look like a magical painting all covered in a white blanket.   There are not too many pedestrians, obviously most people are smarter than me and are either driving or staying indoors, but that doesn’t really bother me.  The lobby is empty, as expected, so I push the buzzer and pray she didn’t forget about our appointment.

“Come on up, Jen.” 

I take the stairs and by the time I get to her office, I’m out of breath and sweating like a raging bull.  Out of courtesy I knock on the door and she surprises me by opening it. 

“Come on in, dear. How are you?”  She’s dressed pretty much the same as me, with dark jeans and a very pretty pink sweater with a violet turtleneck underneath.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in anything but a suit. She looks years younger and very approachable, which is probably why she goes for the other attire during her patients’ visits.

“I’m very well, thank you.”

“So this has to be something really important that you asked me to see you today.  Did something happen lately?”  I move toward the sofa but she stops me.  “No, no.  Not today.  I think we’ll try something different today.”  I watch her as she takes her fur coat and slides her arms into it.

“What are you doing?” I ask, surprised.

“We’re going out.”

“You mean… no, you can’t possibly mean that.  I need to talk to you about important stuff, and I won’t be able to concentrate out there.”

“Look dear, I told you today was my day off.  We’ve been meeting for a very long time, Jennifer, and nothing has worked.   This might be just what you need.  Come along now.  I’m going to buy you lunch.”  I’m left speechless and can’t do anything but follow her.  She stops by a very slick black car parked in front of the building and opens the passenger door for me.  “Get in.”  I get comfortable and fasten my seatbelt, and she does the same.  The car purrs to life and we take off to God knows where. 

“Oh relax.  I’m not kidnapping you.” She’s smiling, something she doesn’t do often.  I’ve never seen her outside her office and this person is very different than what I’m used to. “So tell me Jen, what happened?”

“I made my mom cry again.  I keep hurting her and I just can’t keep doing that.  I’m afraid one day she’s going to stop coming over or stop returning my calls.”

“You know that’s not possible.  But I agree with the hurting part.  We all hurt the ones we love at least once in our lifetime.  We don’t do it on purpose, it just happens.  Acknowledging that we’re doing something wrong is the first step into the right direction. Calling me was your second step.”  I’m going to be doing a lot of walking before I can make it all right.  Better get my sneakers ready and pray that my legs don’t break before the finish line.  Dr. Collins stops the car in front of some fancy restaurant I’ve never been to. “Come on, I’m starving.”

The inside of the restaurant is breathtaking.  There is so much to take in, from the flower arrangements, chandeliers, white linens, to the amazing art adorning the walls.  There is a water fountain in the lobby, a smaller but perfect replica of the fountain of St. Peter’s Square I saw once in Rome.

“Dr. Collins, what a pleasure to see you again.” A tall older gentleman dressed impeccably approaches us and immediately takes Dr. Collins’ hand and gives her a light kiss.  “It’s been a while.”

“Hello Alexander.  This is my friend Jennifer.” 

“A pleasure,” he says, but his eyes are still on her.  It’s obvious he’s got some mad love for my doctor. 
“Your usual table, bella?”

“Yes, that would be wonderful.”  If I didn’t know any better, I would say she just blushed.  Oh this was going to be so much fun.  Alexander takes us to a table by the window then, just as she’s about to sit, he leans and whispers something into her ear.  Yes, definitely blushing now.  Almost makes me feel bad for intruding on her day off—almost.  As soon as he walks away, a young waiter comes with chilled Perrier and two menus.  Everything looks amazing and once again I feel overwhelmed.  Sam always promised that one day he would take me to a place just like this one back in Seattle.  We were too young and barely starting our lives to afford anything like this, but that didn’t stop us from making plans.  Now, thanks to him, I could probably afford to eat here every day for the rest of my life, but it just didn’t feel right anymore.  Nothing felt right without him.  I try to focus on the menu and push back the lump in my throat. 

“The salmon is to die for here, darling, in case you feel like having fish.  Or the chicken marsala.”

“Everything looks good.  What do you usually get?”

“I like the steak.  If I’m going to treat myself, it better be with something out of the ordinary, right?  I eat enough fish and chicken during the week.”  And there it is, that relaxed smile again.  Who is this woman?  The waiter returns to take our orders and true to her word, she orders the steak, medium rare, with a side of garlic mashed, and grilled asparagus. I decide to try to chicken marsala with a side of orzo pasta with grilled veggies.

“We’ll have the pasta
fagioli soup to start.  Thank you dear.”   She doesn’t miss a beat. As soon as the waiter leaves us she starts questioning me.  “So tell me, how’s the writing going?”  I think about it for a moment, remembering the last time I actually wrote anything.  It was when I read back my own words that I realized how disturbing my stories were.  It was as if some dark force had taken over my mind and was purging these extremely scary thoughts out on the paper. 

“I stopped writing.  Turns out it wasn’t really my thing after all.  I’m thinking of going back into teaching.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, but you know it will take a lot of work on your part.  You’ll have to be out of treatment before you can go back to that.”

“I know that.”  The soup arrives and it is the most delicious soup I’ve ever had.  I savor the warm broth, the mixture of pasta and white beans and the aromatic herbs and spices.  It is heaven in a bowl.  “Dr. Collins-”

“Call me Valerie, dear.”

“Valerie.  I want to live again.  Obviously I wasn’t good at dying. You know I tried.  It’s all in the files.  So I might as well try this whole living thing.  I owe it to my mom.”

“No Jen.  You owe it to yourself.  You can’t change your life for anyone but yourself.  Not even for your mom.  I can tell you right now that when you try changing for other people, in the end you’ll end up resenting them and yourself for that matter.  You have to want this for you.” 

We move from the soup to the main course, the portions large enough to feed an army.  Valerie’s steak covers most of the plate; I can’t imagine this little lady being able to finish that much food in one sitting.  My chicken is as delicious as it smells, smothered in
marsala wine sauce and wild mushrooms.  Oh I could get used to this.  I close my eyes as I take the first bite and let the mixture of flavors and textures do a little dance inside my mouth, arousing my taste buds. 

“Maybe I do owe it to myself.  Or maybe I’m not meant to have the happily ever after.  David sure makes me want it though.”

“David?  Tell me about him.”  Where do I start?  Do I tell her that every time I see him, my knees go weak?  That just a glimpse of Lily makes my whole day a lot better?

“He is my neighbor; a very persistent neighbor too.  He stops by my house and drops flowers every once in a while.  He doesn’t know I see him; he just drops them off at the door then walks away.  Not in a creepy way but, I don’t know, in a kind of sweet way.”

“What do you mean he doesn’t know you can see him?”

“Well, I have a camera installed so even if I’m in my office I can see who’s passing by my house or if someone stops at the front door.  Anyway, he once told me that he knows all about pain and that eventually it gets better.  Of course, I almost bit his head off and pretty much told him to never bother me again.”  I shudder just remembering that day. 

“Jennifer, you’ve been under my care for a very long time.  In this time you’ve become very dear to me.  So because of that I feel that I must share something with you.  Something that will hopefully help you better understand why everyone keeps telling you that you too can move on.” She puts her fork down without touching her food and folds her delicate hands on her lap.  Her face is a mix of emotions. Whatever it is that she’s about to tell me must be very important and close to her heart.  She looks almost pained.

“Let me tell you a little story.  No, no, you go ahead and eat.  I knew a young girl once.  She was just a few years younger than you. 
Beautiful and full of life but also very naïve.  She met a young man while she was still in high school and as soon as she turned eighteen she decided to get married.  There was nothing her parents could’ve said or done to stop her. And so she moved away with her prince charming.  At first everything was wonderful, just like she imagined it would be.  But then things started to change and the prince was no longer as charming.  When he realized she couldn’t have kids, he became violent, started drinking, and having affairs.  Affairs he didn’t even try to hide from her.  Two years later he left and never came back.” 

I listen to Valerie as she tells the story, her voice full of pain and I wonder just how close she was to that girl.

“The young girl became very depressed and eventually was forced to return to her parents’ home.  No matter how hard they tried to get her well, in the end her pain was too much to take and she lost the battle.  Her mother found her in the bathroom, lying in a pool of blood.”  Valerie’s eyes are now filled with unshed tears and my heart breaks for her. “Jen, the young girl, was my daughter.  It’s been a long time since I told anyone that story, but no matter how many years will go by, it will always feel like it happened yesterday.  We all have pain and sorrow even if some of us don’t show it to the rest of the world.  It took me years to learn to live with the pain and move on.  You can learn too, if you want it badly enough.  You’ll never forget; no one can take away those memories.  You just have to learn to keep the good ones and discard the painful ones.  And I can help you with that.”  

For a while I say nothing, I just play with the food on my plate, trying to figure out what the appropriate response would be to what I’ve just heard.  When my eyes meet hers, she’s already composed herself and she’s slowly eating her steak. 

“Valerie, I-”

“I did not tell you the story to make you feel sorry for me, Jennifer.  I don’t feel sorry for myself.  I am grateful every single day for whatever little time I got to spend with my daughter.  Some people never get to experience the kind of love we had for each other.  I shared my story with you so that you can hopefully learn something from it.  Whatever it is, I hope it will change your life in a positive way. Now, let’s see if we can come up with a more productive way to get you closer to that teaching position you were telling me about.”

Talk about strong.  That’s how I saw her now, strong and inspiring.  No longer just a doctor, but
a pained woman just like me.  A woman who could probably teach me a thing or two about life.  For the next few hours we ate, drank wine, and talked about my future.  It all sounded so wonderful and I wanted to believe it was possible to have it all.  I don’t know if it was the wine, but by the end of our time together, I was ready to climb the highest mountain, ready to take control of my life once and for all. 

I let myself into the dark and empty house, set the alarm, and then got ready for bed, positive thoughts still fresh in my mind. 
I can do this
, I chanted over and over again. Right before going to sleep I decided to follow one of the many advices given by Valerie that day.  “Write down everything you remember,” she said. “But stay away from anything negative.  I want you to think of all the good times you had with Sam.  Remember everything that made you happy before you met him.” 

What made me happy before I met him?  I couldn’t remember much before Sam.  It’s as if my life started the day I met him.  It was my first day at UW and still trying to find my way around the campus.  I had a map in my hand and when I looked up, there he was. 

“Need help, beautiful?” I swallowed hard and stared at his mouth, unable to speak.  He moved closer and his fingers lifted my chin until our eyes met.  “You ok?”  I moved my head up and down like a bobbing doll which only made his smile bigger.  “So how about it?  Care for a tour?  Or maybe we should just go for coffee?”

That’s all it took.  One coffee date and we became instant friends.  Everybody loved him, especially the girls.  It was hard not to.  Yes he had the surfer blonde hair with the most amazing green eyes, and a body to die for.  But he was so much more. He was funny and easy going and had the biggest heart.  The kind of friend you could count on for many years to come. 

We started dating six months later and became inseparable.  No one thought we would last since we were so different, and if I was honest, neither did I.  We fought about everything, day and night, but somehow we always managed to make up.  Two years later, just as I was getting ready to go home for Christmas, he asked me to marry him.  It was not the kind of proposal you read about in books or see on television.  We drove to the airport listening to Christmas songs on the radio, me singing along, him laughing at me.  He parked in front of the entrance and got out to help me with my bags.

“So listen, maybe we should get married.” I didn’t think I heard him right until he ask again.  I laughed and shook my head.  Was he joking?  He had to be.  That’s what I thought. 

“I’ll call you when I get home.  Don’t miss me too much.”

“Babe, I’m serious.”

“Yeah, yeah.  I have to go or I’ll miss my flight.  Love you lots.”

Hours later he sent me a text asking me the same thing and that made me think that maybe he was serious about it.  He followed me to Boston that week and asked my mom for my hand in marriage and just like that, it was official. 

It was not your typical proposal, but it was the perfect proposal for me.  I would give everything to go back to that day.  To see him on his knee holding the small ring box, a sly smile on his face, waiting for my answer.  We made love in my old bed that night, thankful that my mom decided on a last minute visit to her sister.  The next day I cooked him breakfast and we pretended to be an old married couple.  Such silly young kids with big dreams, ready to take on the world. 

We got married in a small ceremony, just a few friends and family, and had our reception in my aunt’s backyard.  I wore my mother’s wedding dress and fresh flowers in my hair. Sam’s face as I walked down the aisle made me feel beautiful and loved.  That day, in front of everyone, he promised to love me forever, to be there for me in sickness and health, till death do us part.  He kept all his promises up until the last minute. 

After graduation we moved into a tiny apartment in a more upscale area in Seattle.  It was all we could afford but it didn’t matter.  The inside was full of character with crown molding and dark wood floors.  The first day we moved in, we spent hours painting the entire place, and that night we made love in the empty bedroom on top of blankets and pillows. 

Every Friday night I would make him roasted chicken and mashed potatoes and he would stop and buy me flowers on his way home from work. 
Every Friday. Religiously.  Every Friday I would set the table with our nicest plates and glasses and we would enjoy each other’s company, never talking about work or anything negative.  It was our time, when we would just pretend that we were all alone in the entire world and life was full of bliss. 

Those were happy memories, memories that were long forgotten.  I close my eyes and try to remember every detail of his face, his strong arms, the tattoo on his chest, the smooth skin when he was freshly shaved,
the spicy smell of his aftershave.  I knew his body as well as he knew mine.  There was nothing we didn’t know about each other; nothing we didn’t love about one another.  He was my happy place, my safety, my one true love, my rock. 
So you tell me, dear Dr. Collins, how do I move on from that?

“It’s ok baby.  I’m always going to be here,” Sam’s hand touches my face, his long fingers w
iping my tears.  “We will be together again, but not any time soon.  You promised, babe. You promised you’ll be happy for me.” 

I wake up shaking and look around for him.  It was all a dream, a stupid empty dream.  Yet, why do I still feel his touch?  I fell asleep on top of the sheets of papers where most of my memories are now scattered and out in the open.  Nothing sad, just like she told me, and yet I feel no happiness. What would I feel if I wrote down my fears?  I push away from the desk and lay on the bed hoping for sleep.