“Do you still have that card Doctor Bentti gave us? We need to make that call. Something doesn’t seem right. She hasn’t asked a single thing about Max. I’m afraid to bring up his name, but what if she doesn’t remember? What if she’s blocking all that?”
“Yes, I have her card on the dresser. I promise I’ll make that call today.”
Sharon hugged him and smiled. “Thank you.”
Rex walked back in the room with his daughter. “I’m sorry, honey I thought Mom had some already made.”
“That’s okay Dad.” She took in a deep breath. “Dad?”
“Yes, hon?”
“Is everything okay between you and Mom?”
“Oh yes. Why would you ask that?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. You two seem to be hiding something from me, or maybe I’m just worried about you two.”
“Your mother and I couldn’t be better. We’re just concerned about you. We want you to get well so that you can have a normal life again. I know you don’t want to spend the rest of your life living here with your old folks, now do you?”
Nadine dropped her shoulders and slumped back on the couch. “I know you’re unhappy that I didn’t finish college. I still want to. I’m not sure why I dropped out, but I think I’m ready to go back. Don’t worry. I’ll get a job and pay for it myself this time.”
Rex stared at her. “College?”
“I know you and Mom wanted me to finish, right?”
“That needs to be your decision. Whatever you decide, your mother and I are behind you.”
She smiled at him. “So, you’re not mad at me?”
He got out of the chair and sat down next to her. “I could never be mad at you. I love you.”
“I love you and Mom so much. I just don’t want to disappoint you.”
He hugged her just as Sharon came into the room. “I’m steeping the tea bags. Iced tea should be ready soon.”
“Thank you, Mom. I love you.”
Sharon put her hands on her hips. “Did I miss something?”
She grinned at her mother. “No, just a daughter, father moment. Do you mind if I have that tea later? I’m feeling a little tired. Maybe Dad was right. I shouldn’t try to jump up so soon.”
“I’ll have it chilling in the fridge when you’re ready.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
They watched as Nadine slowly walked back to her room and closed the door.
“Rex, we’ve got to make that call today. It’s been nearly a month, and she hasn’t mentioned the assault or Max. That’s not normal.”
“I’ll call right now.” He walked into the master bedroom, closed the door, and took the card from the dresser. He sat on the edge of the bed, then called.
“Doctor Chapel’s office.”
“Yes, this is Rex Branson. Doctor Bentti gave us the doctor’s card. Our daughter was a victim of domestic violence…”
“One moment, Mr. Branson.”
“This is Doctor Chapel. Thank you for calling, Mr. Branson. Doctor Bentti said to expect your call. How is your daughter doing?”
Rex struggled to hold back his tears as a knot formed in the middle of his throat. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m calling. Her physical wounds are healing, but something isn’t right.”
“Can you give me an example?”
“Nadine has not once asked about the assault or mentioned the man she was seeing. It’s as though none of it ever happened.”
“Why don’t you bring Nadine to my office later this week? Let me check my schedule, and I’ll have my assistant give you a call to set up an appointment.”
“Thank you, Doctor. Whatever time you have, we’ll be there.”
“Mr. Branson, I’d like you and your wife to make an appointment too. This type of tragedy affects the whole family. Do you understand?”
Rex took in a deep breath. “I do. We’re willing to do whatever it takes to help our daughter.” He hung up, dropped his head in his hands and swallowed hard. He looked at the picture of him and his wife holding Nadine as a baby. He bit down hard on his lower lip and shook his head. “All I ever wanted to do was protect my family, and I’ve failed.”
Sharon paced the kitchen waiting for Rex when she heard the bedroom door slowly open. She held her breath. “Well?”
“She’s going to call us back as soon as she finds an opening in her schedule.”
“Thank God.”
“Sharon, the doctor wants to see us too.”
“Of course. I think that’s a good idea. We don’t know what we’re dealing with.”
“So, you’re okay with us seeing a shrink?”
She cocked her head and grinned. “It’s not like we’re going because we’re crazy or anything like that. We just need some guidance and understanding on how to deal with this.”
He hugged her and smiled. “How did you get so wise?”
“Being married to you,” she snickered.
#
Rex and Sharon sat with Nadine in the waiting room of Doctor Chapel’s office. Nadine was calm, but her parents were wringing their hands, fidgeting in their seats. Rex couldn’t stop tapping his foot. Suddenly, the door opened, and a tall woman with her blond hair wrapped in a knot at the nape of her neck stepped forward. She was wearing casual Khaki pants and a large teal over-shirt.
“Good morning.” She extended her hand to Nadine first and then her parents. “Thank you for coming.” She smiled at Rex and Sharon. “Why don’t you wait here and give Nadine and me a chance to get acquainted, if that’s okay with you, Nadine?”
Nadine turned to her parents, and her dad nodded. “We’ll be right here, hon.”
“Good.” Doctor Chapel motioned Nadine into her office.
The door closed as Sharon exhaled and leaned into Rex. “I hope she’s going to be okay.”
“She’s going to be fine. I just wish we could be in there with her, but I understand.”
“Do you think the doctor will be able to get Nadine to talk about what happened?”
“I hope so. I think it’s important. Maybe Nadine just didn’t want to talk about it with us knowing how concerned we are.”
Rex put his arm around her shoulder. “We have to trust that this is the right thing.”
Sharon kept looking up at the clock on the wall behind the receptionist. The minute hand appeared to stand still. She stood up, headed for the water fountain then began to pace.
“Sharon, your pacing isn’t going to make it go any faster.”
“Well, I just can’t sit there and do nothing.”
Finally, the door opened, and Doctor Chapel entered and motioned them inside.
“Please, have a seat. Nadine and I were just discussing how she grew up in the area and her desire to go back to school.”
Sharon looked at Rex then back to the doctor.
“Nadine has given me permission to discuss what we talked about with you both. Let me start by saying thank you for coming today. I think it’s important for the entire family affected by such a traumatic experience to talk about it. Nadine, is there anything you’d like to say at this time about what we talked about?”
She looked at her parents then back to the doctor. “Mom and Dad, I appreciate you standing by me after what happened. I feel…” She hesitated.
“It’s okay, Nadine,” Doctor Chapel said as she nodded.
“I feel like I’ve disappointed you.”
“Oh, honey. Never,” Sharon whispered as she reached for her daughter’s hand.
Doctor Chapel looked at Rex and Sharon then at Nadine. “Your daughter doesn’t remember what happened. She doesn’t remember much of her life after she dropped out of college. She remembers nothing of how her injuries were inflicted.”
“Dad, I still don’t understand. Doctor Chapel said she’s going to try and help me remember, but why haven’t you told me anything?”
A tear escaped the corner of his eye. “Honey, we just thought you weren’t ready to talk about i
t. We had no idea. I’m so sorry.”
Sharon turned to the doctor. “What can we do?”
“Listen to Nadine. I’d like to have her come back by herself in a few days. There might be a medical reason why she doesn’t remember, so I’d like to discuss this with Doctor Bentti first. If it’s not medical, Nadine and I will address the issue.”
The doctor stood and escorted them to the door. Rex walked ahead with Nadine, but Sharon lingered back. She waited until they were out of listening range. “Doctor, what do you think is blocking her memory and how do you think it’s going to affect her if she recalls it?”
“Let’s not jump ahead of ourselves. I want to see if there is a medical reason first. As we open up that memory, Nadine might become withdrawn. Your patience with her will be very important in her recovery. Don’t push her. Let her come to you. In the meantime, just be there for her.”
“What if she wants to know what we know?”
“Be honest with her, but try not to interject your anger or fear at this time.”
“That might not be that easy for Rex.” Sharon glanced down the hall. “Rex feels he’s failed to protect his little girl.”
“That’s a normal response, and that’s why it’s just as important for you both to talk about it. I have a support group that meets once a week. I think knowing that your feelings are not uncommon and the opportunity to hear the experiences of other could be a big help for you and Rex.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“Mrs. Branson, be patient with yourself.”
Sharon forced a smile. “I’ll try.”
Doctor Chapel watched the family leave then turned to her assistant. “See if you can get Doctor Bentti on the line.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
THE NEXT STEP
“Good afternoon, Nadine. How are you doing?”
“Okay, I guess. Doctor Chapel, I’ve tried to remember what happened but I can’t. Why?”
“Let’s talk about the last thing you do remember.”
Nadine leaned back in the chair. “I was returning home from my parent’s house, then the next thing I remember, I was in the hospital.”
“What were you doing at your parents?”
“Mom was upset because I wanted to drop out of college for a year and work. I felt I was putting too much pressure on them financially.”
“Do you recall when that was?”
“Yes, it was right after my birthday.”
“What month was that?”
Nadine sat up straight in the chair. “April.”
The doctor pulled out a calendar and handed it to her. “What is today’s date?”
Nadine looked at the calendar then back to Doctor Chapel. “You have June 8th circled. Why?”
“That’s today’s date.”
Nadine began to cry. The doctor sat down next to her. “I talked to Doctor Bentti. He said you had no signs of head trauma that would cause the memory loss, so we’re going to work on some triggers that will help you.”
Nadine wiped her eyes. “Like what?”
“I’m going to give you some names, and I want you to tell me, if anything, what they mean to you. Are you ready?”
“Yes. I feel like my brain is frozen in time.”
“In a way, it is, but we’re going to chip away until you have a clear picture of what happened.”
“Then what?”
“Let’s take it one step at a time.”
“I’m ready.”
#
Rex and Sharon waited in the lobby for Nadine. The door finally opened, but only the doctor came through. She motioned them to follow her into another room.
“Is Nadine okay?” Sharon asked.
“She is. She’s made some breakthrough, but her recollection of events is disjointed. She spirals from one event to another event unrelated. I needed to nudge her to refocus. She remembers bits and pieces of the attack. She recalls screaming at someone, and that person going into a rage, but doesn’t recall who it was.”
“She doesn’t remember Max?”
“It’s not uncommon for victims of domestic violence to have trouble remembering the incidents.”
Rex put his hands on his hips. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
“For your daughter to recover fully and deal with her abuse, she needs to face who and what happened. She thinks she must have said something to make that person mad and that’s why he struck her.”
“She’s blaming herself?”
“She is. That’s also common in domestic violence. That’s how the abuser controls. He inflicts poor self-worth in his victim and demoralizes them. I’m letting her rest right now. As she concentrated harder on her fragmented memory, she complained of a headache. We may have to continue this later. She may have periods of headaches at home the more she struggles to remember everything.”
“What can we do?”
“Now that she’s opening up that blocked area, her memory might start flooding in, and it could be hard for her to accept. I’ve prescribed some medication for her that will help her relax.” She smiled at them. “One thing I can tell you is your daughter is a very strong woman. She wants to know everything that happened. Nadine is aware that she’ll be facing some painful memories. She initiated the inquiry for a support group for people who have faced the similar situations as she did. I can’t tell you how many victims are too ashamed and don’t want to admit to anyone what happened, but Nadine is embracing the idea. She’s shocked that she could allow herself to be abused.”
Rex exhaled hard. “Maybe her loss of memory gave her time to heal in more ways than physical.”
“We don’t know why some people block it out and some don’t. There is never a standard reasoning or outcome. If she does confide in you and her words seem disjointed, just give her time to correct herself without making that correction for her. It’s okay to give subtle hints, but right now, she needs to feel a sense of control and empowerment. That relationship, though brief, nearly killed her.”
Rex ran his hand over his forehead. “Does she know that?”
“She does. Another thing. She might have mood swings of wanting to be alone one minute, then suddenly not stop talking and asking questions. She has difficulty processing the memories coming in. You can help her with that. Whatever you do, don’t lie to her. She’ll know it and withdraw.”
Sharon reached for Doctor Chapel’s arm. “We can’t thank you enough.”
“Nadine’s battle isn’t over by a long shot, and neither is yours. However, it’s a good start. Here’s the address of the support group for you too. You’re going to need support in helping her. The sooner you participate, the better prepared you’ll be to deal with situations that might come up. Domestic violence happens in more families than is reported. This affects the entire family, but Nadine has a great chance here. She has a loving family who will stand by her. So many do not. However, you need to take care of yourselves too, and a support group is a good way to start. If you need to talk to me about anything that comes up, please don’t hesitate to call. Now, go and take your daughter home.”
Sharon grabbed Rex’s arm as they opened the door. Nadine turned to them. “I’m going to be okay. Thank you for being here for me. I know I can do this with your help. We’ll get through this together.”
Rex hugged his daughter. “Yes, we will.”
# # #
My Father’s Ashes
By Laura Moe
My father had been in the closet for seven months now. His ashes rested inside a box on the top shelf between my sweaters and old purses. Ron kept telling me I needed to bury him, to set him free. What did he know? His parents were both still alive and healthy.
Dad and I had an uneasy relationship, and I even hated him for a long time, so I wonder why I wouldn’t let him go. Maybe I was trying to torture my father, keep him in purgatory for all those years I couldn’t let him have it face to face. Ron, who fancies himself a psychiatrist who accidentally became
a high school English teacher, said I was trying to keep from grieving. I think Ron just didn’t like making love with my father’s ashes ten feet away from our bed.
We hardly ever had sex anymore. Often, I was just too tired. There’s only one of me, but it seemed everyone—friends, neighbors, kids—all wanted big chunks of my time. No wonder I got headaches.
Then there was my job. On any given day I handled thousands of dollars, especially if I worked the corporate accounts window, but none of it was mine. If there weren’t cameras everywhere, I may have grabbed two hundred thousand easily and flown off to Mexico. But I didn’t.
I also didn’t deal with my dad.
“Pam, it’s been seven months,” Ron told me when I got home from work one evening. “Isn’t it about time to do something with those ashes?”
“I don’t even have my shoes off and already you’re bugging me about my father.”
“You need to figure this out,” he said. “Forgive him for dying, then bury him. Then you’ll be able to move on.”
What did I see in Ron when I married him? He’d grown paunchy and hadn’t bought new clothes in five years. I was no cover model, but twenty years of life distorts everything.
It was summer when we met, and he mowed lawns for the apartment complex where I lived. I used to purposely sit on my balcony and watch him. He had the muscular, lean body of a guy who works outdoors all summer. One day, he stopped to chat with me. Up close I noticed his eyes resembled turquoise stones. And I liked his hair, the color of afternoon sand.
We were both in college at Ohio State. He was majoring in English and I was getting a degree in art. Nobody makes a living creating art, though. My dad tried it for a while.
When I was ten, my family moved to the Balearic Islands off the coast of Spain so Dad could paint seascapes. He had heard that the air and light were best there.
We lived in a stucco house in Formentera, with cheap rent, and the ocean as our backyard for two years. My brother, Adam, and I loved it; we were homeschooled by our mother, walked to the village, and played on the beach every day. Life was idyllic until Dad ran off with a French countess he met at a hotel bar.
Betrayed: Powerful Stories of Kick-Ass Crime Survivors Page 29
