She knew she should get up and get home, or at least out of the road, but she didn’t have the strength. She stared blankly at the seemingly massive bumper and wondered idly if the driver had seen her. Her head hurt. Pain like shards of glass pricked at her eyelids. She just wanted to sleep. Her eyelids dropped shut, suddenly very heavy.
“Ginger, Ginger, are you all right? What are you doing in the middle of the road? Open your eyes!”
She forced her eyes open, for only the smallest fraction of time, and found herself staring into the concerned face of Dr. Marcus Devon. “Not again,” she groaned.
She was mildly aware of being scooped into his arms, and the sensation of floating on air as he carried her to his car. She fought with herself searching for the will to open her eyes, and assure him that she was okay, and that he didn’t need to take her to the clinic or call Beau, but even her subconscious knew that that was useless.
* * * * *
“I found her sitting in the middle of the road, half conscious. Beau, I almost hit her with my car.”
“What?” Beau gaped at Marcus, not fully comprehending what his friend was saying. “She went out for a walk, she wasn’t even gone that long! Why would she be sitting in the middle of the road?”
Marcus sighed. “I’m guessing she had another panic attack. She’s been mostly sleeping on and off since I found her, which just speaks to the stress her body was under. I was able to take her blood pressure which was a little high again. It seems like a pretty severe attack, Beau. I had high hopes that we wouldn’t need to resort to medication, but if the supplements aren’t helping, we need to try a more aggressive course of action.”
Beau’s face fell. “I’m not sure she’s been taking the supplements, Marcus, I meant to check while she was on her walk, but I didn’t get to it before you called. If I had to wager a guess, I would say no.”
Dr. Devon just gaped at him, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Beau didn’t blame him. It seemed like the harder he tried these days, the harder he failed.
Marcus shook his head, his brow furrowed in concern. “Beau, I meant it when I said I didn’t think we were dealing with severe depression here so much as anxiety, but it’s still nothing to mess around with. I get that Ginger is a grown woman, and normally a very capable one, and that I’m asking you to take responsibility for her in a way that you have never needed to before, but if she was capable of making good decisions regarding her health right now, we wouldn’t be here. As her HoH, you really have to take a hard line right now. If she isn’t taking responsibility on her own, you have to step up and get it done.”
Marcus’ mouth set in a straight line as he crossed his arms across his chest looking more frustrated than Beau had ever seen him look.
He rubbed his forehead contemplatively. “I appreciate what you’re saying, Marcus, but I just don’t understand how I can take a hard line with her right now. I’m trying as hard as I can to be encouraging, but she barely says two words to me. Without domestic discipline, I have a hard time making her do anything. I will do better at making her take her pills and get exercise, and next time she goes out for a walk, I will go with her, regardless of what she says.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Marcus waved his hand in front of him, as if to say, slow down, back up. “What did you just say?”
“I will do better at making her take her pills?”
“No, before that, about spanking. Did you say you’re not practicing right now? I thought we talked about this, about using alternative punishments in place of spanking while she recovered. And,” Marcus continued, “even if we hadn’t, Hazel is five months old. Ginger has had more than enough time to recover.”
“Well, yeah, she’s physically recovered, but Marcus, just look at her. She’s clearly not operating at full capacity right now. I don’t want to make things worse by pushing her too hard, or making her feel like she has to watch what she says for fear of punishment. I want her to feel like she can express herself freely as she is obviously going through a lot right now.”
Marcus stroked his chin thoughtfully for a moment, looking wise beyond his years. “Well, first of all, Beau, there’s a difference between freely expressing yourself and being able to say what you need to say while still being respectful. I see no reason Ginger shouldn’t still be able to behave with a certain level of decorum when speaking her mind. That doesn’t seem like too much to ask of anyone. Second, I hardly see where making her follow doctor’s instructions could be construed as pushing her too hard. You really can’t afford to be lax in these matters, and frankly, I don’t think you’re doing her any favors. Furthermore, as Ginger’s doctor, it is my medical opinion that there is no reason for you to not be practicing at least some form of domestic discipline.”
Beau deflated. He couldn’t win for losing these days it seemed.
“I hear you, Marcus, I really do, and I am going to make sure she follows instructions from now on, but as for domestic discipline, I’m just not sure it’s the right thing for us right now.”
“Uh-huh. And how did you say that was working out for you?”
Beau gaped at him, slightly taken aback by his friend’s sarcasm which was completely out of character for the kind doctor.
Marcus quickly apologized. “I’m sorry, Beau. Whatever my opinion, that was out of line, and you need to do whatever feels right for the two of you.”
Beau nodded gravely. “Thank you.”
Marcus opened the door to the room that held his make-shift clinic. “You can take her home as soon as she wakes up, but make sure she gets in to see Traci as soon as possible.” He turned to leave, pausing in the doorway. “And, Beau, it probably wouldn’t hurt for you to find someone to talk to also, and that is my professional opinion.”
* * * * *
“You’re going to see Traci Jackson first thing Monday morning. I made you an appointment.” Beau was firm.
Ginger hedged, wanting to argue, as she really didn’t want to go talk to the town therapist, or anyone for that matter.
“Don’t bother arguing. It’s not up for discussion.” Her husband, it seemed, had mind reading capabilities. So why was he so clueless on the one thing that would really help her, and the one thing she really wanted, which was simply to get back to their new normal. And if that meant a spanking or two, all the better. Of course, she knew that wasn’t going to happen. Beau was holding on to his new policy, domestic discipline being off the table, because he seemed to think it would damage her somehow. Couldn’t he see that not having that in her life was what was doing the most damage?
She sighed, and quietly nodded her agreement. She would go, because he had told her to, and it was the smallest peek into the way things used to be, and the way she wanted them to be, so she would not fight it.
Beau hadn’t let her out of his sight since he had brought her home Friday night. She should feel suffocated by the way he was hovering over her, but it was just sweet. He had cooked all of her favorite foods, and set up a makeshift bedroom in the living room for them by pulling out the sleeper sofa and setting up Hazel’s play-pen for her to sleep in so they could lay in bed and watch all of their favorite shows all weekend.
Of course, he had done a fair amount of nagging too, about vitamins, and staying hydrated, and having her cell phone on her at all times. He had somehow managed to hold back on the lecture she was sure he was itching to deliver, for which she was grateful, mostly.
It had actually turned into an almost perfect weekend, and she was dreading him going back to work on Monday.
“I’ve arranged for Rose to drive you there, so make sure you are ready when she gets here.”
“What?” Her head whipped around to glare at her husband. “Beau, that’s ridiculous! I’m more than capable of driving myself over to Traci’s house, or even walking! It’s a few blocks!”
“Humor me,” he told her, looking anything but humorous. “Rose will already be here to watch Hazel while you go to the ap
pointment, and I’m not taking any chances. You’re too important to me.”
Well, when he put it that way… “Honey, that’s sweet, but I can drive myself, in fact, I can drive Hazel over to the Rolsons before I go. There’s no reason for Rose to even come over here. That’s just silly.”
Beau leaned over and kissed her softly on the cheek. “Silly or not, that’s what’s happening. And, she will be staying with you for the afternoon too, so you better behave.”
Dang. He was being so firm and bossy. Ginger realized with a start how much she had missed that. Instinctively, she wanted to fight him, but her body betrayed her, shooting tingles of arousal down to her private places. She groaned softly as her need built.
Beau, of course, mistook it for something else. “I mean it. I’m just trying to take care of you and do what I feel is in your best interests. Please, just humor me this time.”
She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. Rose wasn’t so bad, and she was sure she could enjoy the woman’s company for a day. Maybe Rose would be able to help her get some insight into her current dilemma. “Okay, but it’s just for one day, right? She won’t be here every time you go to work? Because I will do just fine on my own.”
“We’ll see.”
Chapter Eleven
“It’s like we’re back at square one. I have no idea what to do or how to deal with it.”
Beau was sitting at Ange’s Angel Cakes with Jim and Ange O’Brien on Monday morning following the incident. After the troubling conversation with Dr. Devon, he had gone to see his mentor Jason Rolson. Jason had decades of experience with DD, but none with post-partum depression, so after some encouraging words and a few minutes of his own two cents, he had pointed Beau to the O’Briens.
Ange and Jim, who he didn’t know very well, had been more than willing to help, Ange having had personal experience with depression after the birth of her youngest child.
She had asked him to meet her here in her shop in the early morning before she opened. It worked out for him, too, as he could meet with her before he went to work at the school. Jim had joined them, but Ange was doing most of the talking so far.
She frowned contemplatively. “What does square one look like for you, exactly?”
Beau sighed. It was hard enough for him to talk about their personal lives with friends, but harder still to jump right into the nitty-gritty with near strangers. He knew, however, that if he was going to work through this and get answers, it was going to be here. Jim and Ange had lived it.
“Two months ago, everything was a mess. We had taken a break from domestic discipline when Hazel was born, and it was killing us. Ginger was barely coping, she wasn’t herself after the birth anyway, but as time went on, it snowballed out of control. I’d say we were drifting apart, but the truth is, she was pushing me away. It took me too long to recognize what she was doing was a cry for help. It’s like she was no longer able to take control of the smallest thing, and she was begging me to do it for her.”
“But she wasn’t telling you that, was she?” Ange hit the nail on the head, immediately putting his mind at ease about being there.
“No, she swung between lashing out at me, and completely shutting me out.”
“Uh-huh.” Ange nodded, the painful memories of her own experiences evident in her eyes. “But it got better for a while?”
“It did. At least, I thought it did. Now, I’m not so sure. It seemed like she was improving, but what if I made it worse? What if I’m the what if?” Beau’s voiced cracked, and he pinched the bridge of his nose tightly, unable to continue.
Jim, who was beginning to look a bit teary himself, rose and came to stand behind him, his hand resting on Beau’s shoulder for encouragement.
Ange exhaled forcefully, as if doing so would somehow expel the bad memories and give her the strength to continue.
“Beau, stop. I was at The Ginger Paddle that day, and it was insane. It was enough to give anyone working there a panic attack, and the word on the street is that that wasn’t the first one she had had anyway, just the most severe.”
Beau looked down, tracing an invisible line on the table in front of him. He hadn’t mentioned the latest incident, and wasn’t planning on doing so, outside of telling Laney, Josiah, and Traci for the obvious reasons.
“See, that’s the other thing,” he explained quietly. “She never told me that she was having panic attacks, not once. I found out afterwards from Laney and Jonathan, and they only knew about one they had seen, but I suspect there were others.” Beau shook his head, overwrought with emotion. “Is it because of how I was handling things? Does she not trust me? I don’t even know when it started or how it happened or anything.”
Jim, still standing behind him, cleared his throat, and Ange looked pained. This was probably hitting way too close to home.
“Beau, I haven’t spoken to Ginger obviously, so I can’t give you any answers. Only Ginger can do that, but I can tell you this. I highly doubt that it stems from anything you did or didn’t do. The sad truth is that post-partum depression manifests itself in many ways, and yes, one of those ways can be through anxiety and panic attacks. I can also say that there is a high level of shame and stigma attached to post-partum, which is unfortunate, because it is a lot more common than anyone realizes and doesn’t always get the attention and awareness it deserves.” She paused, letting that sink in before continuing. “I don’t know Ginger very well, but we do have a few things in common. I know Ginger’s reputation, and I know what kind of person it takes to run a successful business in the food industry. Women like us, we’re tough and strong, and we pride ourselves on our dedication and self-control. I’m ashamed to say that when something like this hits us, we see it as a shameful weakness.” She stopped abruptly, looking rather choked up. “No,” she corrected emphatically. “We see it as a personal failure, and the thought of admitting that failure to anyone, is worse even than the thought of living with it.”
Her speech was powerful, and the truth of her insight floored Beau, rendering him speechless for a moment.
Ange stood. “I’m glad you came by today, Beau, and if Ginger ever wants to talk, let her know I’m here. I’m sorry, I really need to get to work now, and I’m sure Jim has some things to add.”
Jim nodded, giving his wife a quick hug before taking her spot at the table across from Beau.
“I’ll leave you guys to it.” Ange gave a sad smile before turning towards the kitchen. She only got about half-way there before she stopped, pivoted on her heels and stalked towards them once more.
“There is one more thing I want to say. I may not have realized it at the time, but moving here and having Jim get bit by the DD bug was the best thing that happened to me. It was my saving grace. You and Ginger have several advantages over us. You’re already here, and whether you’re currently practicing or not, you already have the tools of a solid domestic discipline relationship behind you. You just have to figure out how to use them in this situation.”
She left then, having said her piece, and made it all the way to the kitchen this time.
Beau stared after her. “Whoa, she’s intense.”
Jim chuckled. “Yeah, she’s pretty passionate about it. She went through a lot of hell back then, and she didn’t have much to say about it at the time either, but she makes up for it now.”
“So what about you Jim, as an HoH, do you really think it’s appropriate to use domestic discipline in this situation? Do you really think it can be helpful?”
Jim gave a low whistle and stared into space for a minute or two before crossing his arms behind his head and tipping back in his chair. “Listen, I’m not about to start advocating for the use of corporal punishment as a cure for post-partum depression or anything, but it is important to consider what we, as spankos, know about the release of endorphins and such.”
Beau nodded, chuckling to himself at Jim’s choice of words, imagining how such an idea would go over with the general public.
“So, what I will say, is that for people like us, who are already wired that way, and already use spanking as a life and relationship tool, it’s a bit different. Don’t discount the healing power of a good arse lickin’ if you know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean,” Beau admitted with a sigh. “I want to go home and put this into practice, and move on, but this is so much bigger than anything we’ve ever dealt with, and I don’t want to mess up or make her feel worse.”
Jim nodded, and Beau could see from the look on the man’s face that he knew exactly where Beau was coming from. “The important thing is to get her talking…to anyone who can help her, but also to you. Once you know where she’s coming from and what she’s going through, you’ll know what to do.” Jim stood. “I’ve got to get to work, and you do too, I’m sure, but I’m glad you came. You’re a good man, Beau Davies. You’ve got this.”
For the first time in weeks, Beau actually felt like that might be true.
* * * * *
Ginger sat silently, coldly regarding the woman across from her, as she had been doing for the past twenty minutes. The woman in question, the Corbin’s Bend therapist, Traci Jackson, stared back at her from over the top of an oversized Wonder Woman coffee mug.
Some Wonder Woman, Ginger thought bitterly. What kind of therapist conducts sessions at her kitchen table anyway? She’s obviously not any good. I’ve been here this long and she hasn’t even tried to get me to talk since the first two minutes.
Ginger Up Page 9
