All I Ever Wanted (Of Love and Madness Book 3)

by Karen Cimms

  Right for the jugular.

  “Tell me about that.”

  What could she say? It was hazy at best. The clearest memory of that weekend was the dream when Joey had come to her and convinced her not to walk off the edge of the cliff. The rest was pea soup.

  “My daughter had me committed against my will.” She surprised herself with how angry she sounded.

  “Did she have a reason?” Liz asked gently.

  Kate crossed and uncrossed her legs. “No. Maybe. I don’t know.” She clenched a handful of loose denim in her fists. When she realized what she was doing and that the doctor was watching, she flattened her palms against her thighs, but before long they returned to their mindless clutching and unclutching. “I guess she thought so. My husband—my ex-husband . . .”

  God, that hurt. She pressed her lips together until she could be sure her voice wouldn’t break. She tugged on her knit cap.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  “My soon-to-be-ex-husband had made an appointment for me to see a psychiatrist because he didn’t like the way I was acting. He wanted me to get better so he wouldn’t feel guilty for leaving me.” She gripped her jeans again. “They’ve always been close.”

  “Who?”

  “My husband and my daughter. She’ll do whatever he wants. It was probably his idea.”

  “Has he done anything like that in the past?”

  “Have me committed?”

  “No. Did he do anything to make you feel like you were unstable for no apparent reason?”

  Kate shook her head. After the shooting, Billy sometimes lost his temper, but for the most part, it seemed as if he were trying to be understanding. Then again, the sooner she got better, the sooner he could be free of her.

  “Tell me about the day you were committed. What happened?”

  “I don’t remember that day, but the day before, I’d been drinking. I don’t normally drink a lot.” That was exactly what someone who drank too much would say. “Anyway, I’d had too much to drink, and I guess Rhiannon freaked out when she found me. I woke up in the psych ward.”

  The doctor scribbled a few notes on the yellow legal pad in her lap. “You sound pretty angry.”

  “Wouldn’t you be angry?”

  “Of course. If that was all there was to it, it seems pretty high-handed to have you committed for overindulging. Was that all it was?”

  Kate picked at a loose thread on the inner seam of her jeans and shrugged. “I might have scared her,” she said quietly.

  “How so?”

  “Like I said, I had too much to drink. I was drinking whiskey. I never drink whiskey. I only took it because my hus—because Billy left it out and I was feeling stressed and . . .” She felt defensive. “I don’t know why I drank it. I just did. And I got drunk, and I was looking for a dress to wear to—”

  She couldn’t say it out loud: I was looking for a dress to be buried in. She spun her wedding band around her finger. If it got any looser, it would fall off; although why would it matter?

  “I went into the attic and took down my wedding dress. I put it on, and at some point—I don’t remember when or even why—I cut my hair. All of it.” A tear dripped onto her wrist.

  Liz set the legal pad on the table beside her and leaned forward.

  “Would you remove your hat, Kate?”

  She shook her head.

  “Please?” Her voice was soft and warm. “Help me understand what you did.”

  She hadn’t even let Tommy see her with her head uncovered, and to show a total stranger what she’d done? It was humiliating. She toyed with the silver hoop in her ear. But if this was a step she needed to take to get well, then maybe it was a small price to pay. With a steadying breath, Kate reached up and dragged the cap off. Her hair had grown over the past nine weeks. In some spots it was little more than an inch long, and in others, a bit longer. At least the bald spots were now covered.

  “Thank you. That was very brave.”

  As ridiculous as it sounded, she was right. It would have been easier to stand up in the room naked than to expose this thing that clearly demonstrated she had lost her mind.

  “Would you like to get your hair fixed?”

  Kate shook her head. “I can’t. I don’t like to go out, and I don’t want anyone to see me—not like this.” She tugged the cap back on.

  “I understand, but I have a friend who could fix it for you if you’d like. She works from her home. No one would see you. When you’re ready, I can call her.”

  Liz’s expression was friendly, but it still made Kate feel uncomfortable. If she started pushing her to do things, go out and face her fears, this would never work. She just wasn’t ready.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  The urge to curl into herself was strong. She shifted until she was almost facing the window. A large black bird—a razorbill, most likely—caught a current on the far side of the cove and soared over a glittering sea of whitecaps. The rocky shoreline was edged in a forest of pine trees so deep and green, one might have been fooled into believing it was summer rather than the dead of winter.

  The last time Kate had been to the beach was last spring. Cape May. She and Billy had shared a picnic at sunset. The beach had been empty, and they positioned themselves to watch the moon rise over the ocean. She closed her eyes and recalled sitting between his legs, her back against his chest as he twirled strands of her hair around his fingers.

  Her heart weighed a thousand pounds.

  “I had long hair,” she blurted. “Almost to my waist. I guess it’s silly for a woman my age, but it’s who I was.” She stared at the toe of her boot. “I don’t recognize myself now.”

  “Do you remember why you cut it?”

  Why? No. The sound? That, she might never forget. It raised the hair on her arms to think of it. The scissors had been dull, and the blades had tugged and sawed, chewing their way through her hair like rats. She shivered and attempted to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, a habit that hadn’t disappeared with her hair. She cringed when her chilly fingers brushed her neck.

  “I guess when I looked in the mirror, I no longer saw me. It was my body and my face, but it wasn’t. Inside, I felt ugly and dead, and I thought . . . I think I thought that the outside should match the inside.”

  The room was warm, but she pulled her sweater closer.

  “And maybe I did it to spite my husband.”

  The realization was both enlightening and exhausting.

  “I’m tired. Can we stop now?”

  “Just a few more questions.”

  Not feeling that she had a choice, she nodded.

  “Do you feel at this time that you’re a danger to yourself or anyone else?”

  “I could never be a danger to someone else.” Kate smiled sadly. “Never. And no, I’m not a danger to myself. I’ve seen the bottom. I want to get as far away from there as possible.”

  “If I give you another prescription, will you promise no drinking for now?”

  She didn’t think she had a problem, but clearly, the doctor thought the potential for one was strong. She nodded.

  “I’m going to write you a prescription for an antidepressant. We’re only going to use these for a little while, just to get you over the rough spots. I depend on active therapy to heal. Let’s get to the bottom of what’s going on and figure out how to deal with it. I’d like to see you again in a couple of days. Let’s get off to a good start, then we can drop to once a week.”

  Liz seemed so sincere and confident in her ability that Kate felt it too. She pushed herself off the chair, her body feeling much heavier than it should.

  She snugged the knit cap lower and had almost reached the door before she stopped. “So. Your friend. Do you really think she could fix my hair?”

  Chapter Eight

  “It’s cute,” Tom said. “You look like a little fairy.”

  “Not exactly what a girl wants to hear, but I guess it’s better than being called a f
reak.”

  “You know what I mean. A pixie, that’s it. Like Tinkerbell.”

  Kate touched her hair. It was so short, but at least it was even, and the front had been spiked up with some kind of gel. It was cute, although it wasn’t a cut she would ever have had done had she not chopped her hair off first with a pair of utility shears.

  “You think I should go blond too? Like Michelle Williams?”

  They were sitting at a light in downtown Portland. Tom scrunched his face as if trying to picture her as a blonde.

  “I don’t know. Red, maybe, especially with those green eyes. Although seriously, you’re beautiful just the way you are. I wouldn’t do a thing.”

  Beautiful? She snorted. “Joey gave me an ultramarine-blue streak back in high school. I was grounded until it washed out.”

  His face softened, but still he chuckled. “Did he get in trouble?”

  “No, but I did. After that, he wasn’t allowed in my bedroom unless my parents were home, and the door had to remain open.”

  “Probably what my parents would’ve said too, if they’d only known.”

  Laughing, she reached across the console and wrapped her mittened fingers around Tom’s leather-gloved hand. “I’m glad you’re here, Tommy, although I’m sorry to have interrupted your life again.”

  “I needed to do this.” He gave her a quick glance before taking the ramp onto the interstate. “I had to get away. Stephanie’s in Florida with Lian for a month. I told my dad I needed some time off. He knows something’s up. We have a new associate who’s picking up some of my cases—not that I do much litigating anyway. Anything else, they can reach me on my phone. Plus I have my laptop if I need to do any work.”

  She grimaced.

  “What’s the face for?”

  “I had the internet and cable turned off. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to connect with the outside world right now. I don’t want to see the news or watch TV.”

  “No TV?” he asked in mock horror. “What do you do all day?”

  “Sometimes I’ll watch a DVD, but usually I read. When I get a delivery from the grocery store, I’ll cook and freeze stuff.”

  “What do you mean ‘delivery’?”

  “Shane—jeez, I don’t even know his last name.” Had he told her his last name? “Anyway, Shane’s grandmother lives across the street. He comes a few times a week to bring her things and visit. I flagged him down and asked him to shop for me. He’s the one who put in all the dead bolts and the motion detectors. He thinks I’m Jewish and I have cancer.”

  “What?” The look on his face was almost comical.

  “The hat, for one thing. I told him I didn’t have cancer, but I don’t think he believes me.”

  “Makes sense. How did you become Jewish?”

  “He invited me for Christmas. When I told him I wasn’t celebrating—”

  “He assumed you were Jewish.”

  “Pretty much.”

  He cleared his throat, and she readied herself for a lecture. “I’m worried about you hiding out from the world.”

  “The world is an evil place, Tommy. I don’t want any part of it. You can’t blame me, can you?”

  “Maybe not, but that’s no way to live. Think of what you’re missing.”

  “What? Kids being murdered in their classrooms or gunned down in a movie theater? Terrorists? Child molesters? I’m not interested in what’s going on in the world.” She shook her head. “All I can think about is getting through today. Tomorrow, I’ll worry about tomorrow. I can’t do more than that.”

  She thought the subject had been dropped, but he continued as the trees flashed past on either side. “I understand, but promise me you’ll talk about this with Dr. Crane?”

  Her fingers curled into a tight fist inside her mitten. “I promise.”

  Tom stayed for two weeks. The night before he left, he talked Kate into going to dinner at The Channel Grill, his and Joey’s favorite restaurant. After everything he’d done for her, she found it difficult to refuse.

  “You’re such a good cook.” He sopped up Madeira wine sauce from his mussels with a chunk of crusty bread. “I’m surprised you’re such a finicky eater. You don’t like seafood, lamb, duck.”

  She scraped the goat cheese off her salad, then speared a piece of pear and a bit of arugula onto her fork. “Maybe it’s because my parents made me eat things I didn’t like even if they made me gag. Maybe I’m still rebelling after all these years. It’s my body. I should say what I put into it.”

  He pushed the last chunk of bread around the bowl until it was practically clean. “I’m surprised you’re not anorexic.”

  “Give me time,” she teased. “Good thing I’m in therapy.”

  “Might be worth a mention.”

  “My parents have been gone a long time. It would be silly to start blaming my problems on them now, wouldn’t it?”

  “I don’t know. Damage from our past stays with us forever if we don’t find a way to deal with it. I had both your parents in high school. Your mother was downright scary.”

  “You thought she was scary in school? You should’ve lived with her.”

  A memory of sitting alone at the kitchen table, staring at a cold lamb chop, materialized. Just thinking of its pungent aroma turned her stomach.

  “You were pretty young when you ran off with Billy. Maybe if they were different, you wouldn’t have done that.”

  A fire crackled in the hearth nearby, its orange glow flickering across the white linen tablecloth. She considered Tom’s words.

  “If I hadn’t discovered my parents hadn’t wanted me, I probably wouldn’t have run off when I did, even though they forbade me from seeing Billy. But as far as he and I were concerned, I don’t think things between us would’ve changed. Of course, if I hadn’t moved in with him when I did, I might not have become pregnant. Then we wouldn’t have had Rhiannon, and you know . . .” Becoming mired in her loss, she blinked a few times to ease the prickly feeling at the backs of her eyes. “I was head over heels. Nothing could’ve changed that. I can’t speak for him, though. I thought it was what he wanted.” Something had lodged in her throat. “He’s the one who changed his mind.”

  Tom wiped his mouth and returned his napkin to his lap. “I don’t think so, Kate. He’s—”

  She held up her hand. No way was she having an in-depth conversation about Billy. “We were talking about my parents. You’re right. They screwed me up, and I will tell the doctor. Okay?”

  He frowned but nodded.

  She set down her fork. “Although I don’t really want to discuss Billy, there is something I do want to ask of you. Not that you haven’t done enough already.”

  “I’d do anything for you.”

  Tom was a wonderful friend. For the first time in a very long time, she realized she still had blessings to count.

  “Around Thanksgiving, I found a box in the attic. It was filled with canceled checks from Billy’s checking account, hundreds of them going back as far as 1991, all made out to someone named Jessie Jones. The first were for a few hundred dollars, but the most recent were as much as $1,500. They were all dated the fifteenth of the month.”

  Just talking about it was making her stomach cramp.

  “We never had a joint checking account. Billy took care of everything, and I never had a clue how much money we had or didn’t have, but we lived pretty frugally considering what he does for a living.”

  “Did you ask him about the checks?”

  “No. And he knew I never went in the attic. He could’ve hidden anything up there.”

  The look on Tom’s face confirmed he was probably thinking what she had been thinking. She reached into her purse. “I kept one. Judging by the stamp on the back, it was cashed at a bank in Houston.” She handed it to Tom. “I want to know who Jessie Jones is and why Billy’s sending her money. I have a pretty good idea, but I want to know for sure.”

  Tom looked skeptical. “Are you sure that’s what you want?�
��

  What she had to say would be difficult, so she said it quickly, getting it all out at once. “That box was the final blow. It’s what pushed me to do what I did, as foolish as it was. It’s when I decided I’d rather be dead than face any more heartache.”

  Even in the dim light of the restaurant, she could see how pale he’d become. “Kate—”

  She held up a hand. “I’m okay. Really. I think we both can assume Billy has another child somewhere. We already know he was unfaithful. I just need to know.”

  “You want me to hire a private investigator?”

  It was going to hurt like hell, but what difference would that make at this point? It was over. She nodded.

  “I don’t know about this. How are you going to feel if you’re right?”

  “I don’t think it’s possible to hurt more than I already do, but not knowing is eating away at me.”

  “A detective could get expensive. Who knows how long it will take?”

  She stared into the fire. Thanks to Joey, she had more money than she knew what to do with. “This is important, Tommy. I need to know who this woman is and why she’s been in my husband’s life all these years. I deserve the truth.”

  The hum of conversation from nearby tables, the tinkle of flatware on china, and the dulcet tones of a piano in the lounge filled the restaurant. She and Tommy sat in silence.

  He tucked the check into his wallet.

  “I was asked to give you a message.”

  She raised her hand to stop him. “Please don’t.”

  It didn’t matter who the message was from. She wasn’t ready. One day, maybe she could hear it.

  Today was not that day.

  Chapter Nine

  February turned into March and March into April. The days grew longer and warmer, at least for Maine, and Kate found it harder to stay inside. Locked behind the walls of her garden with nothing but the view of the ocean, she had found a small oasis of peace.

  She’d spent the morning clearing away dead leaves and rotted mulch from the base of the beach roses and the flower beds. Resting on her rake, she filled her lungs with the organic scent of soil and the marshy ocean air. It was definitely there. A flutter. Not quite happiness, but a hint of its possibility. The sun warmed her upturned face. She might have even smiled as she went about her task, reveling in the stretch of unused muscles and the gentle ache in the back of her legs.