When Love Comes Knocking, page 10
“Doc, why don’t you just lay it out for me?”
“Very well. I am pretty sure that Ms. Richards laid a lot of groundwork for the span of time of about a year before your marriage ended. My guess is off-handed statements, probably innocent on their own, but in the grand picture, created cumulative damage. Statements such as ‘I’d be jealous if my husband…’ or ‘Doesn't that make you jealous when Jake…’ Those statements were able to take hold because of Julia’s existing sense of jealousy?”
I drew in a deep breath, imagining Anna talking to Julia.
“Innocent enough on their own. But every time Ms. Richards was alone, or in a small group with Julia, she would make her suggestions. She would get Julia slightly drunk and reinforce those suggestions. Hints at what you might be doing. Subtle innuendos, a phrase couched a certain way. With Julia’s reasoning impaired by the alcohol, she was open to those suggestions.”
I felt a chill come over me as realization started to gather in my mind.
“I’m not sure I fully understand,” my mom said, looking between us.
The doctor turned his gaze to her. “In simple terms, Julia's underlying issue of jealousy was a field out of balance. Ms. Richards merely supplied the nutrients and suggestions that caused that field to become fertile and for Ms. Richard's statements to take hold and grow. She nurtured and tended that field, if you will, for all those months prior to the divorce. On that final weekend, Ms. Richards harvested her crop. She threw one final push at Julia when Jake went out of town for the weekend. She played the supportive friend and handed her those photos. In Julia’s state of mind, those photos confirmed all of her suspicions. Ms. Richards convinced her of Jake’s infidelity and that divorcing Jake was the only way to punish him.”
I sat back, rocked. My anger for Anna was hitting new highs. Mom was wiping tears from her face, and I must have looked like a shell-shocked soldier, stumbling around the battlefields. I looked out the window of the office and tried to focus.
When I looked back at Dr. Barlow, he gave me a sad, small smile and spoke again.
“When Ms. Watson gave Julia this information and the pictures, it shattered Julia. Her shame was so great that she attempted suicide. Had her parents not come home early, she would have succeeded. I don't know what she told you, but Julia was almost catatonic for several weeks. When her mom told me about Ms. Watson, I obtained her contact information and had a chat with her.”
He leaned forward on the desk and looked at me intently.
“Jake, had it not been for Ms. Watson’s information, I suspect Julia would still be in a mental health facility. It would have taken us months to determine the cause of her breakdown. But in this case, I had the root cause, and the method used to create the situation. I had virtually all the pieces of the puzzle, Jake, and that allowed me to help Julia immensely.”
He leaned back, straightening a folder on his desk.
“I spent time with Julia every day for almost a month. We sometimes had up to three sessions a day. The realization that she had thrown away her marriage and hurt you all because of Anna’s manipulation was devastating for her. But she is an amazingly resilient woman. The strides she has taken in the last month and a half have been nothing short of astonishing.
“Five weeks ago, she came in here like a woman possessed. She was alert, had a fire in her eyes, and a determination. She outlined for me a new purpose she had for her life, and we shifted to how she could best accomplish it. I was concerned that she was overcompensating and shifting into manic behavior, but after talking with her over the next few sessions, I realized that she had turned a corner and was taking charge of her life again.
“And to that effect, the first step in her new purpose was to face you and apologize. She wanted you to know that what happened was totally her fault, that you had done nothing wrong, and that she was sorry, and ashamed, at what she had done to you.” He finished and sat silently, watching me.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to speak, but my voice cracked. I cleared my throat several times before trying again.
“So, you're saying that just like that, you’ve cured Julia of this manipulation. If she was so screwed up, how could she recover so fast? It seems kinda far-fetched.”
He dipped his head in agreement. “Perfectly understandable observation. Jake, has your mother ever told you ‘you can do anything you want to do if you put your mind to it’?”
I must have rolled my eyes because Mom swatted my arm. Dr. Barlow laughed.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’ Jake, the mind is an amazing thing, and we still only know a fraction of its capabilities or its impact on our lives. I will keep seeing Julia because we still have some work to do, but she has put her mind to her purpose. Trust me, she still has the shame to deal with, and she knows that what she did was wrong, but she has learned to process that, deal with it as needed, but keep it in a box. She is not suppressing it; she’s changing how and when she deals with it. Baby steps, if you will.”
“You keep mentioning this purpose,” Mom said. “What happens if she fails at it?”
He sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of him as he looked between the two of us. “She and I have talked about it, and she knows it’s a very real possibility. It will hurt her, most definitely, but she accepts that possibility. However, for her, the reward for succeeding far, far outweighs the negative that comes with failure.”
“Doc,” I stated, shifting in my chair. “What is this big purpose she has?”
I could tell he was a bit embarrassed.
“I’m sorry, Jake, but that is probably the one question I cannot answer for you. I can tell you anything that was discussed up to the day she walked into my office with her plan. Anything after that is outside of what she authorized. To get the answer to your question, you’ll have to ask her.”
His office phone buzzed, making me jump. I rubbed my head.
“Pardon me,” he said before picking up the handset. “Yes? Tell them to have a seat. Thank you, Maria.” He hung the phone and gave us his attention again.
“Jake, Mary, I’m afraid my next appointment is here. Jake, your mom has my contact information. If you have any other questions, please don’t hesitate to get in touch with me.”
Dr. Barlow came around the desk as Mom and I stood up. Walking us to the door, he shook Mom’s hand and then took mine. He paused, not letting it go.
“Jake, one last thing. In my opinion, as a doctor, and as a man who has been married to the love of his life for almost forty-five years now, Julia still loves you. She is deeply ashamed of what happened. I know you don’t see it now, but, at some time in the future, I hope you can fully appreciate the courage it took for her to come to you and to give you that envelope and express her sorrow.
“My hope is that at some point in time, you can forgive her. Not forget but forgive. She will never ask you for it, because in her mind, she is not deserving of it. Something to think about.”
I nodded as he let my hand go. I was quiet as Mom and I took the elevator back down to the garage and got in the car, hitting the road toward home.
Mom finally broke the silence.
“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, son, or think I am not on your side, but that poor girl. I feel for what she must’ve gone through.”
Surprising even myself, I knew I agreed with her. But even though I agreed, I couldn’t speak yet. Instead, I just nodded.
Mom glanced over at me. “Jake, does it… help any to have some of the answers? To know that you didn’t do anything wrong?”
I kept silent, staring out the window at the passing landscape.
Mom looked over at me again. “Jake?”
I said through clenched teeth, “I’ve never wanted to kill anyone, Mom. But right now, I want to kill Anna Richards.”
She snorted. “I think you need to get in line. I can do the jail time. You have Sarah to think about.”
I leaned my head against the car’s window, appreciating the coolness of the glass against my forehead. “It’s not fair, Mom. It’s just not fair.”
“Life never is, honey. You did the right thing, telling Anna’s husband about her. He needed to know.” She reached over and put a hand on my leg, squeezing it gently.
“Sure didn’t stop me from getting hurt,” I replied.
“Sometimes, doing the right thing is the one that hurts the most.” I looked over at her before staring back out the window, a thousand thoughts racing through my head.
We got back home at about six that evening, paid Hannah, and spent the rest of the night playing with Sarah. Sometimes you just need to spend a few hours building with wooden blocks and watching a happy little girl topple them over to dull the thinking process.
Sleep that night was hard to come by. I tossed and turned and when I did sleep, I was plagued by nightmares that I knew were terrifying, but I couldn’t remember.
I woke up the next day, still confused and numb. I plodded through my day, taking care of the multitude of chores that never seemed to end.
It wasn’t until after I had put Sarah to bed and was sitting at the kitchen table with a beer when Mom sat down with me. We had avoided any serious talk since our conversation in the car yesterday.
“Want to talk about it?”
I sighed, toying with the lip of my bottle. “The thing I don’t get, well, one of the things, is the jealousy. I never did anything to make her jealous. So I noticed other women, but I never touched or spoke to any of them. Julia was perfect. She kidded at times about her looks, but I told her she was beautiful and I wouldn’t change a thing about her. Why was she jealous? So jealous that this happened?”
Mom shrugged, leaning back against the chair. “I wish I had the answer for that one.”
I took a long drink, setting my bottle down gently on the worn tabletop. I was mad at what happened, and it also hurt to know what Julia had gone through. One of my rambling thoughts must have slipped out.
“Suicide.”
Mom laid one hand on my arm. “When your dad died, I wanted to die. I never told you and your sister, but there were times that I thought about it, thought about following him.”
I jerked my head up to look at Mom, sitting there calmly telling me she at one time thought about killing herself.
“Grief is a powerful thing, son. It grabs you, shakes you, and sometimes will not let go. After Julia left, I had John go up to the cabin and take away the sharp knives and the rifle. You apparently were so drunk you never even heard him come in.”
“Mom, I’d never do that. Ever.”
“Son, I’m not saying you would, but I can understand how something as powerful as shame would have driven Julia to it.”
We kept the silence, lot in our own thoughts. I finished my beer and sat there, peeling the label off the bottle.
Mom asked the question I couldn’t answer just yet. “Do you still love her?”
I stared at the table, toying with the pieces of shredded label.
“I’d say there are still questions you want answered,” Mom said quietly.
I turned my head sideways and looked over at her. “You think I should call Dr. Barlow?”
She shook her head slowly. “He’s not the one with the answers you seek.”
“She’s gone again. She said her piece, and left,” I replied, shredding another long strip of label off the bottle.
At that comment, Mom slid her other hand across the table and laid a small, folded piece of paper in front of me. She stood up, kissed me on the top of my head, took the empty beer bottle away, and headed off to her room, dropping the bottle in the trash as she left.
I looked at that slip of paper as if it were a piece of kryptonite and I was Superman. Slowly, I reached out and unfolded it and stared at the ten simple numbers written on it. Ten numbers that could cause me even more pain, or maybe provide some relief.
I didn’t answer Mom’s question, but something told me she knew the answer.
Hesitantly, I pulled my cell phone off my belt and stared at the number pad. I punched in the numbers and hit the call button before I could chicken out.
NINE
Four rings sounded before someone answered.
“Hello?”
God, her voice still sounded good and sent small tremors through me.
“Um, hi. It’s me.”
I heard a sharp inhale on the other end before she responded.
“Jake.”
“Listen. I… Shit, this is hard.” I dragged a hand down my face and took a deep breath before continuing. “Look, maybe… maybe we should talk.”
I could hear the relief in her voice. “I would like that. Tell me where and when.”
“Do you want to come out here?” I held my breath as she stayed quiet for a few moments before responding.
“I think, for this talk, it should be someplace else. I love your Mom, but, given that this is our first real talk since our divorce, tempers might flare. It would be good to be somewhere away from her and Sarah.”
I nodded to myself, realizing she might have a point, given how angry I was when she showed up at our door.
“Okay, how about where we had our first date?” I shook my head, realization at how stupid that idea sounded flooding me as soon as the words left my mouth. “Shit, nevermind, that's a bad idea. Sorry. I didn't—”
She surprised me by interrupting me in mid-apology. “No, it’s okay, Jake. Really. What time?”
“Oh, well, if you’re sure… does 5:30 work for you?” I asked.
“That will be fine. I look forward to seeing you.”
I looked up at the ceiling.
What was I doing? Was this the right thing to do?
Running my hand through my hair, I leaned my elbows on my knees and looked down at the floor between my feet. I felt lightheaded. “Yeah, well, I guess I better go. Good night.”
I heard a small sigh on the other end of the line. “Good night, Jake.”
I hit end on the call and stared at the offending piece of technology. What the hell had I done? What was I going to say to her? I sat there gripping the edge of the table, not sure if I should run or puke.
Just then, a soft hand landed on my leg. I looked down into an angelic face full of sleepiness and curls, clutching a small bear.
“Thirsty, Unka J.”
I lifted her up, and she plopped her head down on my shoulder as I walked to the hall bathroom. I filled her small glass and waited as she gulped it down. When she finished, I sat the glass down and toted her to her bedroom. I tucked her back in, pulling her covers up over her and her bear. I sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. She’d already gone back to sleep.
I sat there looking at her as I slowly stroked her hair. I loved this little girl. She’d always had a place in my heart as her uncle. Now, though, now she’d carved a place in my soul. For a brief moment, I let my mind imagine several more, just like her, running around the yard with Mom chasing them.
That was supposed to have been the dream, but it had been taken away from me.
I shuddered a bit, causing Sarah to stir in her sleep. I kissed her again, tucked her covers a bit more around her, then quietly left her room.
At lunch the next day, I was cutting up Sarah's hot dog for her as Mom finished making me a chicken salad sandwich. Mom made the best homemade chicken salad, bar none. She cut up small pieces of grape and mixed it in with smaller chunks of pecans. She even chopped the chicken up into smaller chunks, just to make it spread better.
I got Sarah’s dog all diced, and she began picking up the chunks, dunking them in ketchup, and feeding herself. Mom slid our plates onto the table before getting a couple of drinks. She took her seat and grabbed the bag of potato chips she’d plunked down earlier. She shook a few out on her plate and offered me the bag. I got my own, put a couple on Sarah’s plate, and dropped the bag back in the center of the table.
“Unless you object, I was thinking of spaghetti tonight,” Mom said.
Sarah began clapping her hands. “Sketti!” she said happily. “Sketti, Gamma.”
I picked up the small bit of hot dog that Sarah’s clapping hands flung toward me and sat it back on her plate. The five second rule ensured it was still edible.
“That’s fine, Mom. I’ll heat some up after I get home.”
Mom glanced at me as she picked up her sandwich.
“Where are you off to?” she asked, a questioning lilt in her voice.
I sat back in my chair. “I’m meeting Julia.”
Mom’s sandwich froze about two inches from her mouth, which was open in anticipation of taking a bite. Her eyes locked onto mine. She slowly finished taking her bite and began chewing, never taking her eyes off me. She sat the sandwich down and kept looking at me as she finally swallowed, using her finger to push a bit of salad that had hung onto the corner of her lips back into her mouth.
“I see. I would have figured you’d want to meet her here,” she stated as she wiped her mouth with her napkin.
“I asked her and she thought that, given that this was our first talk since the divorce, it might get a bit, well, heated. She thought it would be best if that happened somewhere other than here,” I said, inclining my head a bit toward the hot dog muncher next to me.
Mom nodded slowly as she picked up a chip and crunched into it. She chewed for a bit, then took a drink.
“Well, she was always a smart girl. I can’t fault her reasoning,” she replied. She looked at me for a moment, studying my face. “You okay with meeting her one-on-one?”
“Yeah, I think so. I’m still trying to figure this sh—I mean, stuff out.” I said, glancing over at Sarah.
Mom and I were making a concerted effort to watch our language while around Sarah. Maybe because I was not around her so much before, but I had not realized that two-year-olds were walking parrots.
We had been in the middle of dinner a couple of nights ago. Sarah was working on a piece of cut-up chicken when her fork slipped and the offending meat went flying off the table.
