Where Petals Fall (19 page)

“And what if you find something less savory?”

Junie felt the heat of Theresa’s gaze. She knew she was looking beyond the words Junie spoke. She was looking for nonverbal clues to what Junie was thinking. Junie raised her arms to cross them, then remembered that the action would signal her discomfort.
Sheesh, she could tell that the minute I walked in
. She crossed her arms.

“More unsavory than my father having an affair? The way I see it, if I’ve repressed something more, something about Ellen that connects to her disappearance, then I can help put closure to it all for Brian, which would help our marriage, too. Besides, I think I knew something was wrong with Ellen. I think I repressed that memory of my father leaning over her because I didn’t want to think about what it meant—that she had something wrong with her. Does that make sense?”

“Possibly.” Theresa’s voice carried a thread of doubt. “Before we get started, do you want to talk about Sarah and her recent acknowledgments?”

“I’m afraid to.” Junie leaned forward. “Was that incredible, or what?”

“What do you think it means?”

Junie shook her head. “I don’t know, but it does make me think that maybe there isn’t something medically wrong with her.”

“Have you completed that questionnaire yet?” Theresa asked.

“I started to, but I just couldn’t deal with it. I will now. I’m not afraid to face it anymore.” She remembered her earlier thoughts. “Do you think there’s any chance that she just prefers to be treated like a toddler? That she’s doing this volitionally?”

“Volitionally?” Theresa looked up, considering the question. “Selective mutism, that’s a consideration.”

“Selective mutism? I’ve heard of that, but doesn’t that have to do with being able to talk in some situations and not in others, like panic attacks?”

“It can, but not always. Selective mutism is usually driven by some sort of trauma, and it can vary in degrees. Some people don’t speak at all. They just stop altogether, while others might speak only around those she or he feels safe around.”

“Like Sarah talking only to me.” Junie uncrossed her arms and thought about Sarah’s silence. “But she hasn’t been through any trauma.”

“It’s not always driven by trauma. Some children—and adults—simply decide to remain silent, for whatever reason. Sarah is regressing, too, so that complicates the diagnosis. We’ll keep working with her and keep this in mind, but regression does not usually accompany the mutism.”

Junie’s hope deflated. She looked down at her lap.

“Junie, whatever is going on with Sarah, we’ll figure it out, but there’s no magic bullet. A diagnosis, whatever it ends up being, does not always equate to a cure.”

Junie nodded, wishing she could cover her ears and yell,
Nanananana. I can’t hear you.

Falling under hypnosis was easier this time than the last. A tingling sensation came over Junie’s limbs, and the darkness behind her closed lids lit up with tiny sparkles until she felt numb. She wasn’t scared. Her body felt as if it were floating, light, unencumbered.

“Where are you?” Theresa’s voice sounded far away.

“I’m at Katie’s house.” Junie stood beside Katie in her front yard. The bright yellow shutters of Katie’s house sparkled in the sun.

“What are you doing?”

“Katie is showing me her new bike, but she won’t let me touch it.” Junie watched her younger self look over the bicycle. “I want to touch it. I want to try it, to ride it. She says I might break it.”

“What do you feel?” Theresa asked.

“Mad. I feel like she’s being a snot.” Junie’s body lay still; her fingers began to twitch. “I hate when she does this. She acts better than me. I hate when she does that.”

“Junie, do you know when it is? What day, or what time? Is it daytime?”

“Yes.”

“Do you see anyone else?”

Junie’s index finger shot out. She lifted her hand. “Ellen. She’s across the street, crossing over toward us.” Junie smiled. “She’s whispering to me. She wants…she wants to play with us.”

Junie’s face pinched; her jaw clenched.

“Junie, what is it? What do you see?”

Junie shook her head. She fisted her right hand.

“Who is there?”

“Me. Ellen. Katie.” Junie breathed harder. “Katie’s being mean. She won’t let Ellen play with us. She called her a name.”

Theresa waited. When Junie didn’t elaborate, she asked, “What did Katie say?”

A tear slipped down Junie’s cheek. “She said…she called Ellen a snitch.” Junie clenched her fist again. “She’s saying mean things. Ellen is yelling at her. I…I can’t hear what she’s saying.”

“Junie, you’re watching. It’s okay. Take a deep breath.” She waited while Junie took a deep breath. “Good. Now, what happens next?”

“Ellen is running away. No! Don’t go, Ellen.” Junie made little panting noises. “Ellen, wait! I hate Katie. I hate her.”

“Junie, stay with me a minute. You’re watching Ellen. What else do you see? Do you see any cars on the road?” Theresa leaned forward, listening.

“Yes, a van. A gray van, down the street.”

“And where’s Ellen?”

“Walking toward the van, toward the park.” Junie panted again. “Ellen, wait!” She licked her lips. “I can’t catch her. Katie is calling me names. I turn around and I want to shut Katie up.”

“Junie, forget Katie. Can you look back down the street? Do you see or hear Ellen?”

“I hate Katie. I stick my tongue out at her; then I turn back and look for Ellen. I can’t see her. Ellen?” Junie broke out in a cold sweat. “Ellen!”

“Junie, concentrate. Where is the van?”

“Driving by me.”

“Can you see who is driving?”

Junie shook her head. “The windows are dark. I can’t see.” Junie clenched her fingers together. “I see her. I see Ellen. She’s in the field behind the seesaw at the park.”

Theresa let out a relieved sigh. “Good, okay. Junie, I want you to breathe  in and out slowly, okay? Let’s do this together. Breathe.”

Junie took a deep inhalation and blew it out slowly.

“Good. Let’s do it again.”

She repeated the breath.

“Now, remember, you are here with me. You are watching Ellen. Where are you?”

“Walking past the park, on the sidewalk.”

“Where’s the van?”

“Gone. I don’t see it.” Junie gasped. “Ellen is calling me. She’s at the edge of the woods.” In a thin voice, Junie said, “She’s calling me over.”

Junie was trapped. She wanted to follow Ellen, but she knew she wasn’t allowed. They’d done it once before, gone into the woods and spied on the kids at Lovers’ Rock. They’d been lucky not to get caught.

Junie kept walking, ignoring Ellen’s taunts.

Ellen slipped into the woods. Junie panicked. Her heart beat fast and hard. “I can’t let Ellen go in there alone. She might get in trouble. She needs me.” Junie became aware of Theresa’s voice.

“Junie, where are you now? Are you still on the sidewalk?”

“I’m walking home. I didn’t want to leave, but my father said bad things could happen in the woods.”

“You’re walking home. Do you see the van anywhere?”

Junie shook her head. “There are no cars. My chest hurts. I feel horrible for leaving Ellen. I wanna go back.  I need to go back. Daddy said bad things could happen. I don’t want her to get hurt. I’m so scared.”

“Junie, you’re safe. You’re here with Theresa, in my office. You’re watching the scene with Ellen. You’re safe.”

Junie breathed fast. Her feet jerked. “I need to find her. Daddy would be disappointed if I let anything happen to her. He told me. He said she was rascally, and that I needed to keep her on the straight and narrow.”

Theresa lifted her eyebrows. “Your father told you that? Okay, what are you doing? Did you go find her?”

Junie nodded. “I’m hurrying. I don’t see her. A bush prickled me, but I pushed through anyway. I can’t see her!” A tear slid down her cheek. “Where is she? Daddy will be so mad.”

“I want you to take another deep breath and blow it out slowly, Junie. Okay?”

Junie did as she was instructed.

“You’re in the woods. Take me there. What do you see?”

“Trees, bushes, Lovers’ Rock.”

“What do you hear?”

Junie squinted. She angled her head away from the couch, listening. She whispered, “A boy. I hear a boy. I’m scared. I want to go home.”

“Do you recognize the voice?”

Junie’s hands trembled. She shook her head.

“Do you see Ellen?”

“No. I see…woods. Trees.” Junie was silent, her eyebrows furrowed. “Water. The creek. I can smell the creek.” Junie clenched the sides of the cushion. “Someone is there. I hear him. I hear talking.”

“Who is it? Do you recognize the voice?”

Junie hesitated, trying to figure it out. “I don’t know. Where’s Ellen? I can’t find Ellen.” Her lower lip quivered.

“Junie, I’m going to bring you back now.”

“No.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her chest heaved up and down with each breath.

“Junie, we can continue this another time. I think it’s time I brought you back. I’m going to count to three, and when I say three, you will be back here with me, in this room. You’ll remember what you saw.”

The voice haunted her, but it was the words that cinched it for her. How many times had Junie heard him call Ellen “squirt”? That had to be the day that Ellen disappeared. She’d been at Katie’s house, which was not a common occurrence. There was no other explanation.

Junie concentrated on what she’d remembered as she sliced through the cherry crumble bars, now draped in a thick, hardened layer of chocolate and pistachios.
Life sucks
, she thought to herself.
Life Sucks Bars
.  Just like that, the cherry crumble bars had a new name. Junie’s best names came when she was baking—usually baking out of frustration or elation. The Midnight Madness Bars, thick blueberry, cream cheese, and fudge brownies that were concocted and named the night she found out she was pregnant with Sarah, had been born much the same way. 

Ca-chunk, ca-chunk.
Junie sliced through the thick bars.

Brian never told her he was with Ellen. He said he couldn’t find her. Maybe it wasn’t Brian. Maybe she was mistaken—she’d been wrong about her father, about the shed.

Ca-chunk, ca-chunk.

Junie didn’t know what to think.

Sarah walked into the room, a paper in her hand.

Ca-chunk, ca-chunk.
Squirt.

Sarah laid her drawing on the table and walked out of the kitchen.

Junie glanced at the paper, realized it was a drawing of some sort, but couldn’t concentrate on foolishness. She went to work releasing her frustration in the cutting of the bars.

The front door opened. Junie’s heartbeat throbbed in her ears.
Ca-chunk, ca-chunk.
Squirt.

She listened as Brian said hello to Sarah. Her hands began to shake.

Ca-chunk, ca-chunk.
Squirt.

His footsteps neared, stopping at the threshold of the kitchen. Junie ground her teeth together, her eyes trained on the Life Sucks Bars.

Brian put his hand on the small of her back and kissed her cheek. She stiffened, closed her eyes.

“You okay?”

“Mm-hm.”
Don’t touch me
.

“Sorry I’m a little late. What’d you make? Smells delicious.” He reached for a bar.

Junie’s knuckles turned white, the pads of her fingers clenched around the handle of the knife.

“These are amazing,” Brian gushed. “You”—he kissed her cheek—“are amazing.”

Ca-chunk, ca-chunk.
Squirt.
She felt confined. Brian stood too close.
Ca-chunk, ca-chunk.

Relief swept through Junie when Brian took a bar and left the room.

The next morning, Junie ripped the sheet from Sarah’s mattress with such force that the edge of it caught and tore along the seam. Junie gathered the sheet in her arms and sat down on the edge of the bed. She looked around Sarah’s room. She loved being a mother even if she wasn’t a very good one. Tears welled in her eyes. Ellen never had a chance to experience being a mother. She never had a chance to fall in love for the first time, or make out at Lovers’ Rock. She didn’t get to go crazy at college, drinking until the room spun or sleeping with guys she didn’t remember in the morning.

Junie brought the dry part of the sheet to her cheek, held it there, collecting her tears.

Squirt.

There must be a mistake. She hoped there was a mistake. Surely she was remembering wrong, had the days confused. Ellen’s frightened face flashed before her. Peter picking up her sneaker in the middle of the night. Brian’s voice echoing in the woods. It was all too much. Junie dropped the sheet on the floor and fell across Sarah’s bed, sobbing into the pillow.

She felt Sarah’s hand on her back, barely a weight, more of a presence. She turned red eyes toward her daughter’s worried face.

“Oh God. I truly suck,” she cried into the pillow. Junie wiped her eyes and sat up, sniffling through the tears that remained. “Come here, honey. I’m okay.” She lifted Sarah up onto her lap and held her tight.
Please don’t let it be Brian
.

Brian passed by the open doorway, then came back and stood in the doorway. His eyes trailed over the bundled sheets that lay at Junie’s feet, then over his daughter, her arms around her mother’s neck, cheek against her chest. Their eyes locked. He shook his head.

Junie buried her face in her daughter’s soft neck as she listened to his footsteps fade down the hallway. She closed her eyes, hoping she was wrong and fearing she was right. She squeezed Sarah when the front door thumped shut.

“When will the weekend get here?” Junie asked Shane.

“Something going on this weekend?” he asked.

Junie closed the oven door and sighed. “No. I think I want to go visit Mom, make sure she’s okay.”

“You guys made up?”

Junie knew that Shane secretly craved strong familial relationships, and she saw the hope for Junie and Ruth’s reconciliation in his eyes. His own family was a bit cantankerous toward one another. “Yeah. Turns out my father was teaching Ellen about photosynthesis. Mom says I was not so interested.”

“Gee, what a surprise.”

Junie swatted him with a baking cloth. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Junie.” He grabbed the clipboard and pretended to read it, then rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling. “You think I don’t know you by now? Anything fact oriented, organized, learning, you hate it. Think I don’t see you fading out when you’re reviewing the orders and deliveries? I know you scan. You don’t even know how to reconcile.”

Junie frowned. “Of course I do. I’m not an idiot.”

“Nope, far from it. In fact, I think you might be brilliant, but you didn’t get that way from studying, or even from listening intently. I think you’re brilliant about what interests you, and all other things, well, let’s just say you’re right brained. If it isn’t interesting to you, you don’t clutter your mind with it.”

Junie sank down into a chair. “Am I that shallow?” She thought about all of the areas of her life that were systematically coming apart at the seams. Had she caused them all? Had she been too self-centered, not involved enough with her daughter and her husband? Did she ignore the important things in life because she was disinterested? She thought about her recent conversations with Brian and realized that for the past few months, they’d spoken of nothing other than parenting and, more recently, Ellen. Was that her doing? Did she dismiss other more important things he might want to talk about? Was that why he seemed so distant?
Oh God. Does he think I don’t care about his job? His happiness? Am I perpetuating the rift between us?
Brian’s voice came back to her from the memory she’d recalled.
Squirt!
Her guilt instantly vanished.

The front door chimed, and Shane went to greet the customer.

“Junie, there’s someone here to see you,” he called into the kitchen.

Katie stood with her back to the counter, a black purse thrown over the shoulder of her flowing tunic.

“Katie?”

When Katie turned around, Junie saw that she was upset. Her eyes had dark circles under them; she fretted with her hands. Junie took her arm and led her to a table in the corner.

“Are you okay?” Junie didn’t know what to make of Katie’s surprise visit. They weren’t friends, and Junie hadn’t even told her the name of her bakery. “Shane,” Junie called. “Can you please bring some coffee?”

Katie sat with her purse in her lap, folding and unfolding her hands. She tucked a curl behind her ear and leaned forward, whispering, “I’m sorry. I just—it’s been so many years. I need to talk to you.”

“Okay, sure.” The bakery suddenly felt very large, as if her words might echo.

Shane brought two mugs of coffee. “Would you like a muffin? Fresh from the oven.” He furrowed his brow at Junie.

Junie shrugged.

“No. No, thank you,” Katie said quickly, then looked back down at her lap, which was in sharp contrast to the overly enthusiastic woman Junie had spoken to the other day.

“Katie, what’s wrong? Did I do something the other day? Did I somehow offend you?”

“Oh, no,” she said. “It’s nothing like that.” She took a sip of the black coffee, wiped her mouth on a napkin, then said, “Is it okay to talk here?” She looked around the bakery.

Shane had disappeared into the kitchen.

“Yes, of course. I mean, I don’t know what you want to talk about, so I assume it’s fine.”
What the hell?

Katie scooted forward until her rib cage rested against the table, her purse tucked beneath it. She spoke in a hushed tone, causing Junie to lean forward and turn her head to the side so she could catch every word.

“I wasn’t sure if I should tell you or not, but I took your visit as a sign. You know?”

No, I don’t
. Junie’s stomach tightened. She didn’t like the direction Katie’s tone was taking. Hadn’t she had enough drama in her life lately? She looked outside at the people walking by. She couldn’t help but think they were lucky. Her life was falling apart in droves, and those people were walking around with smiles on their faces, oblivious to the trauma that was unfolding, the memories that were strangling her, the old friend who most certainly had news that Junie didn’t want to hear.

“Well, when you came to see me, my first thought was,
Yay! Junie’s here
. But then”—her smile faded—“it all came back to me. Years of self-imposed torment.”

Oh my God. What did I do?
“Katie, I’m sorry for anything that I did or said. Please understand. We were kids. I didn’t mean any of it. I’m having all this trouble remembering much from certain parts of my childhood, and if I was ever cruel to you—”

“Junie, no, hon, you weren’t cruel to me.” She swatted the air. “Sheesh, girlfriend, how could you even think that? We were like this.” She crossed her fingers.

We were?
“I don’t understand, then. What do you mean by torment?”

“Junes,” she whispered, looking around the bakery. “Don’t you remember?” She opened her eyes wide, nodding her head, as if Junie
should
remember.

Junie tried to recall something, anything that might explain what she meant by self-imposed torment. She came up empty. “Boys?”

“Oh, Junes, you really don’t remember, do you?”

Junie shook her head. A shiver ran up her spine. She was afraid to hear what Katie had to say. She didn’t know how much more bad news she could take. What had she done that was so terrible that she’d caused this poor woman pain and torment?

“I’ve kept this inside me for so long, I think I started to believe it myself. But when we talked and you were asking.” She mouthed the word
Ellen
. “Well, I knew. I just knew it was meant to come out. I mean, I don’t know about you, but I can’t live with this anymore. It’s been too long.”

“Whoa, Katie. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Slow down, please.” Junie’s head was spinning. Ellen? Meant to come out? What the hell was going on? She held on to the edge of the table as she listened to Katie describe the afternoon in a much different way than Junie had remembered.

“When you came back, you were shaking, in tears. Gosh, can’t you remember us hiding in my backyard? In the playhouse? I think we were back there for at least an hour.”

Junie just shook her head.
I went back to Katie’s? This isn’t happening. What have I done?
 She tried to speak, but no words came out. The bakery began to fade away, as if she were listening to Katie talk in slow motion, each word drawn out, magnified.

“I was so shocked to see you come back. I thought for sure you were gone for the afternoon, but you came back.” She nodded. “You were so upset. I didn’t know what had happened. Then you told me, and my goodness. Junie, please tell me you remember this.”

She could see the pain in Katie’s eyes. She’d done something horrid. No wonder she’d repressed the memory.
Oh God
. All Junie could do was shake her head. Her hands trembled. Everything sounded as if she were underwater. Rushing blood pumped past her ears, blocking out any discernible language. Junie felt a hand on her shoulder. As she tilted her head up, her world went black.

The ceiling needs to be painted
. That was the first thought that came to Junie as she lay splayed across the floor of the bakery. Shane hovered over her, his face a mask of worry. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his mouth gaped in fright. His hands clenched her upper arms as if he wanted to shake her awake.

Junie blinked, trying to clear her mind.
What happened?
 

“June, sweetie, you scared me to death,” Shane said.

Panic rushed through Junie. She turned toward the voice.
Katie
. Their conversation floated back piece by piece.
Ellen
. It hadn’t been a dream.
Damn it
. Junie let her eyes drift closed.

“Uh-uh, Junie. Open your eyes. Stay with me.”

Let me be
. Junie wanted nothing more than to disappear. Maybe she could keep her eyes closed. Go to sleep and never wake up. She didn’t want to believe that she’d hurt Ellen, although that’s not exactly what Katie had said. Someone hurt Ellen. There had been a rock, a giant rock.
Oh God, the rock
. She could see it flying through the air. She could smell the creek.

Junie’s eyes sprang open. She reached for Shane’s hand, hyperventilating. He sat her up, holding her against his side. “Get a bag, under the counter, quick.”

Katie rushed behind the counter and returned with a paper bag held out in front of her. “Oh my goodness. Is she okay? I shouldn’t have come,” Katie fretted.

Shane snagged the bag and put it over Junie’s mouth. “Breathe, Junie. Just breathe long, slow breaths.”

Junie did as he instructed until her breathing returned to normal, and she pushed his hand away. She blinked up toward Katie, who looked as though she might faint.

“I’m fine. I’m okay.” Junie flushed. She tried to push herself to her feet.

“Oh no, you don’t. Just sit and relax,” Shane said, gently holding her against him.

“I’m so sorry, Junie. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Katie crouched by Junie. “What can I do?”

Junie wanted to scream,
Go away and never speak of what you told me!
Instead, she said, “Nothing. I’m fine.”