All For Anna (16 page)

It was like she could
see me—the real me, the one I had hidden from her specifically.

She smiled and touched
my hand as Stacie told us the latest update on Jack. This gesture to anyone
else might seem normal, but that kind of affectionate touch was
not
normal
for us. Stacie and Mom were that way with each other, but not Mom and me.

Greeting hugs were one
thing, but not intimacy. Intimacy meant: common ground, connection,
understanding, willingness, and vulnerability. We did not have intimacy.

My heart ached as I
stood up, sliding my hand out from under her touch. I told them I needed to stretch
and walk a bit. They nodded in response to me, remaining in their lounge
chairs. I was grateful.

I walked deep into the
landscaped yard, finding the bridge where I had first seen Kai. I stood on its
highest point, leaning over to stare down at the koi fish below.

Their brightly colored
scales were hypnotizing as I watched them swim. I could stand on this bridge
for hours watching them, thinking. This bridge was a great spot to seek peace
and serenity—not that I really believed in either of those things anymore. I
heard footsteps approaching as my dad found me. He leaned onto his elbows,
peering over the wooden rail beside me.

My dad was a calm man,
relaxed in manner, but strong in principle. Even the most difficult workday
ceased to bring him stress, he simply didn’t believe in it. We stood silently
for a few minutes, mesmerized by the beautiful scenery around us.

“
Do you know that you’re
one of only two people who really appreciates this little spot out here? Mom
was gonna have me fill it in last year and move the fish to the pond on the
other side of the house, but I remembered you loved this spot,” he said, still
gazing downward.

“Yeah, it’s a great
spot. I’m glad you kept it,” I said.

“Darlin’, I can’t tell
you how happy I am that you’re home. I know you hate the gushy stuff, so I’ll
keep it short. It just feels so good to see your face again. Thanks for coming
to church this morning, too. What did ya think of that? Pretty different, huh?”

His eyes sparkled in
wonder as he spoke, as if this church conversation was actually exciting to
him.

Weird
.

“Uh...well, yeah it was
different
. I hope you aren’t expecting me to make a habit out of going
though, Dad.”

“Oh Tori, hold your
horses. No need to get defensive on me. I’m just asking a simple question. Your
mom and I have discovered a lot in the short time we’ve been attending there. We
just wanted to share it with you,” my dad interrupted, never getting above a
firm whisper.

“Yeah, I keep hearing
that, Dad,” I said sarcastically.

“Ya know, pumpkin, it sounds
like you have some stuff to sort out with God.”

His body still faced
the pond. Though his eyes were still focused on the water below, I felt
smothered.

“No Dad, I really
don’t. It’s pretty well sorted out already,” I said.

“There are only two
paths we can be on with God: moving forward or moving away.”

I didn’t speak. The
words in my head were too hard and angry to be directed toward my father. My
battle wasn’t with him. I tried to remind myself of that.

“With either, heartache
will still come. It’s not life’s circumstances that separate the two paths…it’s
the ability to hope. That’s the game-changer, sweetheart.”

Hope?

“Come on. Let’s get
back to the house. I think Stacie might be ready to head home for her afternoon
nap.”

We walked close to each
other, my dad’s hand on my shoulder nearest him. Before he slid the glass door
open, I remembered a question from earlier.

“Dad? Who’s the other
person that loves my spot at the bridge?”

His eyes twinkled
mischievously as he grinned.

“I believe you’ve already
been formally introduced to him. It’s Kai Alesana.”

**********

Kai’s call didn’t come until
Tuesday afternoon.

Although I tried to
pretend I wasn’t waiting for it, the amount of times I had checked my phone
during the last twenty-four hours was embarrassing. His voice was confident,
yet kind as we talked.

I could hear plenty of
male voices in the background, yet he never diverted his attention. He
confirmed the time for Thursday’s dinner and my stomach rolled in anticipation.
I couldn’t even imagine how good Kai would look in formal wear. That thought
brought yet another dip in my stomach.

What were his
expectations for me?

**********

After a long run to
prepare my mind for my upcoming session with Dr. Crane, I left for work. Stacie
had asked why I was going in so much earlier than my scheduled shift, but I
didn’t tell her. The words were not ready to be said.

I had planned to tell
her about my therapy, yet there was something stopping me that I just couldn’t
get past. If I admitted it to her, then there would be no going back. It would
all be real then. I wasn’t quite ready to give up the safety of my denial.

I would tell her
though, in my own way and time. Because of that, it didn’t count as a breech in
our
honesty pact
. Of that, I was convinced.

**********

Dr. Crane seemed to be
a very pleasant mood when I arrived at her office. She offered me a bottled water
as I sat on the hard leather sofa. She smiled as she held my file on her lap,
yet she made no move to open it. Instead, she observed me.

I felt like I was being
graded on a test I hadn’t even taken yet.

“Tori, how have the
last few days been for you?”

This was the first time
she had asked me about
present-day Tori
. I was intrigued.

“Pretty good, I guess,”
I said, straightening my shirt.

“That’s good to hear.
I’d like to ask you how your assignment went. Did you find someone to connect
with?” she probed.

Uh, I’d say so.

I’m like a professional
connecting machine now.

“Yes, definitely,” I
said with confidence.

Maybe getting fixed
would be much easier than I thought it would be. Although, I couldn’t figure
out how this idea of
connecting
with people
would help with my
flashbacks. But hey, she was the expert, who was I to question her tactics?

“Can you tell me about
it?” she asked.

She sat back, making
herself comfortable as she picked up her sweet tea. Apparently she thought she
was in for a long story. I cleared my throat.

Who do I start with, my
parents, Stacie, or Kai?

Gosh, I really am a
connecting machine!

I launched into the
story of the lake day with Kai, then dinner with my mom and Stacie, and
finally, my visit at my parent’s house. I looked around the room as I recounted
the facts of the weekend. Pride filled my chest like a balloon as I spoke. At
the end I took a deep breath and waited for her praises.

A second later however,
my pride balloon popped. Her expression lacked the enthusiasm I had expected
from her. There was no standing ovation for my great efforts, instead I saw
only the narrowing of eyes and a head tilt.

Nothing good ever came
from a head tilt like that.

Did she not hear all my
connecting? I did exactly what she asked of me!

“Tori, in no way do I
want to discourage you. It sounds like you made some great social strides over
the last few days. In comparison to what I assume was a fairly anti-social year
in Phoenix, what you shared definitely shows some progress. However, in all of
your recounting, I never heard any real
conversation from
you
.”

Seriously?

I had loads of
conversations! Was she not listening to me at all?

I scowled. “I don’t
understand what you’re calling
real
conversation, Dr. Crane. I had
plenty of conversations! I am exhausted just from thinking about them all!” I
said.

She took a deep breath.
“Tori, please remember I am
on
your
side. I am only trying to
help you. This exercise wasn’t about filling time with social activities; it
was about letting someone in. Real
connection
happens when we share
ourselves with someone, when we allow real vulnerability and authenticity in
our conversations. Even if you can only let your guard a little at first, that is
how it starts,” she said leaning forward in her chair and staring at me
intently. “It’s about letting someone reach you, that part of you that’s been
closed off for the last year and a half. It sounds like you could get there
with your sister if you pushed yourself a bit more.”

I sat thinking about
the conversation Stacie and I had had in the driveway of our parent’s house. If
that was the closest I had come to this
connecting
thing, then I was way
out of my league. My talk with Stacie had been very uncomfortable for sure, but
the truth was, that wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg.

Could I really share
all of me: my thoughts, my shame, my fears, my insecurities?

Could I do it the sake
of sanity?

Could I do it for the
sake of honoring Anna?

“I’m sure this is a lot
to take in. It’s normal to have fear, Victoria. It plays a big role in how we
learn to be open and vulnerable after a tragedy occurs. This idea of sharing
and connecting may seem pointless to you, but it’s what will ultimately begin
your healing. It will take some time, but your loved ones—the people you can
trust—are the key to working through your PTSD. They are the ones who will help
expose the dark places in your mind and bring them out into the light.”

“And what if I don’t
want to bring them out?”

“Then they will
continue to grow darker. They’ll start to seep into the other compartments of
your life. Let me ask you, Victoria, are the flashbacks you experience always
the same? Is it just one scene, or have they expanded into multiple scenes?”

The chill that went
through my body was enough cause for me to shiver. The flashbacks had started a
week after my accident. Originally, it was just one single image of Anna in my
arms that would hold steady in my mind. Now though, it was a slew of memories.

My flashback while on
the Jet Ski was evidence enough that she was right. This train wasn’t going to
stop on its own; its destination had to be the equivalent of Hell.

“Multiple. And they’ve
been happening...
more
often,” I said, looking at the floor. I hesitated
to make eye contact with her after such a confession. I felt more broken just
by admitting it.

“I see. I have some
literature I’d like to send home with you, Victoria. For a nurse such as
yourself, I think you’ll find it very informative. It deals more with how the
brain functions under stress and duress. It might help to educate yourself as
we continue processing this from the inside out,” Dr. Crane said.

“Okay, I’ll read it.”

“Before you leave here
today, there are two questions I want to ask you to think about for our next
session: what is the common denominator in your flashbacks? And what feeling
can you identify in them?”

When she was done
speaking, she leaned forward in her chair and reached her hand out to me. It
hovered in the space between us. I stared at it.

I felt weak.

The overpowering pull was
back, calling me a fool. It was ludicrous for me to hope I could be anything
more than the woman that had killed a child—the woman that had ruined a family.
The dominant voice of resistance
 
pulsed through my body. Every
beat of my heart was begging me to leave, to walk out and never come back. I
needed to exit this office and leave Dr. Crane and her therapy discussions
behind. If I could just bury the pain back down it would all be over.

It would all be over and
I would be…
safe
.

But something stopped
me.

It was something small—yet
fierce—that rose inside me. My fingers reached across the gap and met hers with
a grip that surprised me. She held my hand tightly while laying her free hand
on top, sealing me in.

“You will recover,
Victoria. You will learn to process through this pain and regain your mind
again. You will be free again to think and feel. You’re not too lost and you’re
not too far gone. I know you don’t trust me yet, but I believe you can trust in
the science if you commit to understanding it. I’m here for you day or night.
Call me when you learn your schedule next week.”

**********

Fatigue worked through
my body, even in the midst of a very full and demanding twelve-hour shift.
There was never a dull moment or break that took me away from the hustle and
bustle of the ER. My mind though, was somewhere else.