by Mary Smith
My heart jumps in my throat.
“However, I know... well... I’ve heard you’ve had a rough go of your marriage.”
I stop breathing. What is she trying to say?
“I’ve not had the greatest past. I know you don’t know it, but I know the struggles of what you must be feeling. I mean, I don’t know every part of your situation, but…” She digs into her purse and pulls out a card. “I go to this fantastic therapist named Caryn Hammonds. She’s almost like a miracle worker. In my opinion, anyway. I know she’s still taking new clients, if you need someone to talk to.” She slides the card over to me, but I don’t take it.
I turn away and look out the window.
“I know it sounds silly but talking to someone really does help. You might not think so at first, and it’s strange but trust me.” She stands, and I can feel her looking at me. “It’s good to see you, Taden.”
I don’t know how much longer I sit here, but I suddenly feel as if every single person coming through the doors is staring at me. It’s like I’m naked standing on a stage in front of thousands of people.
I had kept this secret for so long. It had been how long since the first time she hit me. Seventeen years? Seventeen years of lying, covering my bruises, keeping the girls from school, not allowing anyone to visit our house and much, much more.
How can I tell anyone all about it? No one would understand.
I’M STANDING IN the middle of Sharon’s room. Janan and Nova had emptied it out. Hell, I have no clue where they took everything. To make it worse I’m not even sure what was in this room. It’s Sharon’s room. I’m not even allowed to be in here, but I am. The walls are crisp white, just the way she liked it. There are hardwood floors—the way she liked it. There are built-in shelves in the walls to store... well... whatever she wanted. I sit down on the floor. It’s a little rough on the knees and ass, but here I sit.
Why?
Is it to be closer to her…
“Say it again.” I suck her nipple.
“I love you.” Sharon giggles under me, digging her hands through my hair.
Her simple touch sends shivers through me.
“Say it again.” I lick down her naked torso and belly until I reach her hot, wet core.
“I’ve said it a million times.” She arches closer to my mouth.
“I’m never going to tire of hearing it.” I slide a finger in her.
“I love you, Taden Long. I love you,” she says over and over…
“Uncle Tad?”
I wipe my cheeks free of the tears and memories. “Yes, Nova.”
“Are you okay?”
My rational side takes over again, and I shake my head. “No.” I cover my face with my hands. “No, I’m not okay.”
Chapter Four
“DO YOU MIND if I call you Taden?” Caryn asks. Her red hair is in a bun on the top of her head.
“No, it’s fine.” I didn’t know what one wears to a therapist’s office, so I picked dark trouser pants and a cable knit sweater.
“Well, can you tell me why you think you need to come to a therapist?”
My eyes wander around her office. It’s professional but with a modern twist. Of course, Caryn doesn’t seem to be much older than my girls.
“I’m sure you watch the news.” I shrug.
“Very little,” she replies.
“My wife killed herself.” I keep my tone low.
“I’m very sorry for this.”
“Thank you,” I respond.
“How are you dealing with it?”
“I’m fine.” And there it is…
“Fine is such a mediocre word. I try not to use it in my vocabulary at all.”
I nod.
“How are you dealing with it?” She repeats the question.
“I’m fine.”
“Fine is such a mediocre word. I try not to use it in my vocabulary at all.” She’s saying the same thing again.
“Are we in Groundhog Day or something?”
“No.” She smiles. “I’m hoping if I keep repeating myself you’ll eventually tell the truth.”
I rub my face hard with my hands and when I drop them, I rest my elbows on my knees. “I don’t know how I’m dealing with it.”
“See, that’s an answer.” She jots a note on her steno pad. “How did she kill herself?”
“She shot herself.” I rub my hands around each other.
“Do you normally keep guns in your home or possession?”
“I’ve never even shot a gun. I didn’t know she had one.” I shake my head.
“Where were you when she killed herself?”
I sit back and stare at the large sunflower painting on the far left side of the wall. “My mother used to grow sunflowers.” I change the subject.
“Did she?”
“Yes.”
“Where did you grow up?”
“Madison, Wisconsin. I was born there, went to college there, and was even drafted there.” I smile thinking of home.
“And I can assume you met your wife there?”
I nod, still smiling. My cheeks hurt. “My father was a dairy farmer. I know it sounds cliché with Wisconsin cheese, but I can remember waking early and working our tails off all day until the sun set. Then go to sleep and get right back up and do it again.” The memories of milking the cows shouldn’t make me happy, but my father taught me about hard work.
“Who taught you to play hockey?”
“My dad. I can remember the first time I put skates on. I fell so many times, but Dad would help me right back up and tell me to brush it off.”
Brush it off…
“I keep falling, Dad.” I shake the snow and ice shaving off my snowsuit.
“It’s okay. Falling is part of life. It’s all about how you get up and brush it off.” My dad towers over me. He was a giant of a man. Large arms, thick chest and deep baritone voice. “A man just brushes it off and moves on. Just like in life.”
“Taden? Taden?”
“Huh? What?”
Caryn looks concerned. “Are you okay?” She passes me a tissue. “You’re crying.”
“I’m fine.” I swept away the wetness.
“Fine is such a mediocre word. I try not to use it in my vocabulary at all.”
I roll my eyes, and it reminds me of Janan.
“Do you have any siblings?”
“Yes. I had a younger sister Tammy.”
“Had?”
“She died seventeen years ago from ovarian cancer.”
“What about your parents? Are they still alive?”
“No. Dad passed away during my first year in the PHL and Mom about ten years ago. She had dementia and I had to put her in a home.”
“I’m sorry. It can be very hard on a family. Did your wife help support you during these times?”
“My wife is very busy.”
“Is?” she questions. “Or do you mean she was very busy?”
I ignore her and look back to the sunflower picture.
“Do you have children?”
“I have a daughter, Janan, and my niece, Nova, whom I raised since my sister passed.”
“You raised her?”
“Sharon helps, of course.”
“Helps?” She makes some more notes.
Why is she breaking apart everything I’m saying? “You know what I mean.” She’s starting to piss me off.
“What’s it like to coach the Bears?”
I glance at her. “How did you know I coach the Bears? I thought you didn’t watch the news.”
Caryn smiles. “I said I watch very little. However, I’m a huge hockey fan, and I’m aware of your job title.”
“Currently I’m on hiatus.”
“Until when?”
“I’m healthy.”
“Is there something physically wrong with you?”
“The owner and GM think so.”
“Has something happened for them to think this?”
Again, I
look away from her. This time I glance at the other paintings on the other side of the room. There is a large forest, and it reminds me of something I’d see in a Disney cartoon. It appears to be safe with its bright colors, right before... bam! Something bad happens.
“Taden, has something happened for them to think you have a physical ailment.”
“I fall down a lot. I think it’s vertigo.”
When she says nothing right away, I face her again. One eyebrow is cocked up, and I know she can see through my bullshit.
“I have balance issues.”
“Has a neurologist confirmed this?”
“No.” She knows I’m lying.
“Maybe I should give you some referrals? Or would it be easier to tell me what’s really going on?”
She’s challenging me. “Are you this rude with all your patients?”
“Only the ones who don’t understand this is a safe place to talk. There’s nothing you can say that’ll make me judge you. There’s nothing you’ve done that’ll make me lose any respect for you. I’m here to help you because I think I know more than you think I do.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “What do you mean?”
“Your eyes are bloodshot. I’ll take a guess you’ve not been sleeping and been crying more than usual. Are you having bad dreams? Or maybe flashbacks of whatever is bothering you? I’ll say it has to do with your wife and her death, or maybe something that happened before her death. I see scars on your cheeks and neck. I can guess on those too, if you’d like.”
“No.” I strangle on the simple word.
“Why don’t you go home and rest? Come back on Thursday and we’ll talk some more.”
Caryn stands and I follow her movements. She shakes my hand, and I leave to schedule another appointment. I’m not sure if this is worth my time or not.
JANAN AND NOVA are still in classes when I make it home from my appointment with Caryn. The house is quiet, and I begin to walk through it. Through every room.
The kitchen. It’s modern with high end appliances. All the counters are granite, like Sharon wanted. My hands are deep in my pockets as I make my way to the dining room. This room is never used. There’s a massive twelve place antique table made of elm. Sharon didn’t like people coming over, therefore, we never entertained. We have a media room in the basement. I don’t remember why we built it. It has a massive TV with all highest tech game consoles, DVDs, and even a projector. There’s ten leather back overstuffed chairs all facing the screen. I can’t remember if I watched a movie or sat and watched a TV series.
Why…
“Sharon, it’s a waste of money. We have a TV in the den and each of the girls have their own. There’s no need—”
“Shut up. I didn’t ask for your input on what I do in my home.” She’s now slamming the frying pan onto the glass-top stove.
“But I pay the bills. I don’t want to waste money on—”
“My jaw.” I rub my chin and jaw. She had broken it with a swing of the pan. How could I have forgotten something as her breaking my jaw? “No.” I shake my head. “I had upset her,” I say out loud. “She’s under a lot of stress with the move in a new place.” I sit in one of the overstuffed chairs. “It’s hard on her right now. She needs a spa day.” I nod my head. “Yes, I’ll give her a spa day.”
“Daddy, who are you talking to?” I stand to see Janan with the most baffled look on her face. “Is there someone here?” She looks around.
“No, I’m…” I guess I’m going crazy. “I’m heading upstairs.”
“Wait.” Janan reaches for me. “How was the appointment?”
“I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
“Okay,” she says understandingly. “Why don’t we go out for dinner tonight? I think Nova and I need some greasy, cheesy pizza.”
“Go on without me.” I go up to my bedroom and softly shut the door.
I’m losing my mind.
I AVOIDED JANAN and Nova, and Thursday couldn’t come fast enough. I want Caryn’s opinion to see if I’m going down the same path as my mother. Or it could be possible I’m going psychotic. I can’t figure out which it is.
The moment I walk into her office, she barely gets out a hello before I begin spilling my guts and telling her how I’m talking to my wife, whom I know is dead.
“Taden, would you like to sit down?” Caryn goes over to her chair and sits down. “If you’d rather stand or pace, I’m fine with it.”
“No.” I take a place on the couch. “I can’t keep any of my thoughts straight. I’m afraid I’m losing it.”
“I don’t think you are at all.” Caryn gives me a small smile. “You’re just not dealing with everything. Everyone handles death in a different way. Some people find comfort in going to their loved one’s graves and talking to them. Apparently, you like talking to your wife in your home.”
I stare at the sunflower painting. I stand and go inspect it closer. The bright yellows, the hint of orange on the petals, the darkness of the center.
“Sometimes I think my life is a sunflower.”
“How so?” Caryn asks but remains in her seat.
“It’s beautiful with deep roots, but all it’s doing is moving closer to the sun because the sun is its lifeline. But the sunflower doesn’t know the closer it moves to the sun the deadlier it is.”
“Since you’re the sunflower, who’s the sun?”
“Sharon,” I whisper her name and the tears begin to burn my eyes.
“Sharon, your wife?”
“Yes.” I keep my voice low.
“Tell me about Sharon.”
“She’s the most beautiful being I ever laid my eyes on.” The first tear leaves my eye as I still stare at the painting. “I knew immediately I had to talk to her and ask her out.”
“How old were you?”
“Nineteen. She was eighteen, but about to turn nineteen.”
“You met in college? Somewhere on campus?”
“I was running on a trail and she was ahead of me. Her hair is what I noticed first. You probably thought I was going to say her ass or curves. But it was her long, shiny brown hair. I badly wanted to run my fingers through it.”
“Did you chase her down?”
I softly chuckle. “In modern terms, I stalked her a bit. I ran the path she did but kept my distance from her. She stopped because her shoelaces came undone and I swooped in, I guess you can say.”
“What did you do on your first date?”
I examine the grass blades in the painting. “I took her to dinner. There was a local pizza hangout. She had a Diet Coke and told me how much she loved ham and pineapple pizza, which I hate, but I ordered it and ate it with her.”
“Do you remember what you talked about?”
I nod, closing my eyes. “Everything. We talked about it all in the hours we were together. School, family, marriage, kids, life. I knew her inside and out.”
“How long before you married?”
“Six months.”
I smile at the memory…
“I know pronounce you husband and wife. Son, you may kiss your bride.” The judge smiles and nods at me.
I grab Sharon’s face and kiss her lips, hard. “See, I knew we could get married today.”
She laughs. My wife laughs. “You better do our vow renewal right then.”
“I promise to give you the world and everything in it.” I kiss her again.
“You, I just want you.”
“We eloped. No one was there. It was just us two.” I wipe the tears from my face.
“How was the first year of marriage?”
“Amazing.” I smile again. “We didn’t have much. We lived in a tiny, very tiny apartment over a garage. We didn’t have a car and we walked everywhere. We stayed in school and I was drafted that summer, but I didn’t get a call up until I graduated college.”
“Were you happy?”
“Elated. We both were.”
“When did you have your daug
hter?”
“Oh, not ‘til much later. Sharon was on the pill and wanted to finish college and start a career before we had kids.”
“Did you support her in the decision?”
“Yes. Actually, I walked with her to the clinic every month to get the pills. We were too young for kids, but not too young for marriage.” I leave the painting and sit back down on the couch.
“Was Sharon a good mother?”
“She was a good mother.” I pause. “At first.”
“When did it change?”
“We got Nova shortly before my sister died. I couldn’t let her go into foster care. Her father was in the wind, and she had no one else... My mother was in no shape to care for her.”
“What was different about Sharon?”
I rub my chin. I have to say it. I need to say the words. “She started with shoving me. I thought she was simply upset and releasing some anger. She took on a toddler when she didn’t want to.”
“She didn’t want Nova.”
The conversation had been hard…
“Sharon, she’s my niece.” I don’t know how many times I have to tell her this. “She’s going to go into the system, if we don’t take her. I can’t live with myself knowing Nova is out there alone.”
“I’m the one who will have to take care of her. Me. You’ll be off playing hockey with your friends. I’ll be here, all alone, night after night. Let’s not forget we have Janan. Now, I, not you, will go from one toddler to two.”
“I will help you in any way I can. Hell, we’ll hire help. I’m making enough money—”
“I wanted to go back to work.” She cuts me off. “You know how much I wanted to.”
“You still can, sweetheart. There’s daycares and nannies. We’ll find a solution.”
I move in to hug her, but she turns and walks away from me.
“I don’t want to talk anymore.” I stand and Caryn does as well.
“I’ll see you on Monday. I want you to start coming three times a week. We have a lot to talk about.”
I nod but don’t really promise her I’ll be here on Monday.
