She nodded and tried to smile but it took too much energy just trying to grasp what she was being told.
“So anyway, we get there and he says he’s going to help you forget all that stuff about your friend and these memories you had about living in a village and losing your mother and the horrible things your brother did. It was all just supposed to go away. And most of it did. But the doctor, well, he said that when you were under, you regressed through two lifetimes before he got to the one where your friend lived. I wish I could remember the name. Well, he said that you struggled a lot in the two lifetimes since the one with your friend, your first life, your happiest one. He said that … that … you were trying to get back to that lifetime, to fix something. And until you could fix it, you were always going to be Piper. I didn’t know what to believe, but ya know, I was out of ideas, so I had to believe it. Your mother needed a valium that day. I really didn’t know if I was going to go home with a wife and daughter that night or … or what, I didn’t know.”
Piper looked at her father with love and whispered to him.
“It’s okay Daddy; you’re the best dad a girl could ever want.”
He broke down then. The tears and the apologies strangled his words and he put his cheek against hers and tried his best to hold her as she lay strapped to the bed. Her tears mixed with his. He was just trying his best. He was younger than I am now when I was born. Just figuring things out as he went along.
When he composed himself enough to speak again he sat up and wiped her face, then his own.
“Agghhhh. You were Piper from that day on. And you know something, you were happy. Really happy. The doctor said that when you were under, he told you that you needed to stop talking about this friend and these other lifetimes, that you weren’t supposed to remember them. But you put up a fight. You refused, something that doesn’t usually happen in hypnosis, I guess—that’s what he said anyway. He told us the only deal he could get you to agree to was letting you have your name back if you would leave your memories where they belonged—in the past. And when you woke up, you were Piper. And the friend, or the ghost or whatever it was … just disappeared. Your mother and I didn’t like the name change one bit. You probably don’t remember, but your grandmother used to make comments. She would say, ‘Piper? Que noma Pipe? Like-a under the sink?’ She used to say that about our neighbor, too,‘Que noma Jackie? Like-a winter jacket, eh?’”
Piper smiled wanly at the sweet memory of her Italian grandmother and how the nuances of the English language confused her.
Her father looked up at the clock on the wall as he wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve.
“Your mother and I wanted what was best for you. We called you by that name ever since. Even went to the courthouse and had it legally changed, so that you could just be a normal kid. You don’t remember the hypnotist or any of that other stuff?”
She shook her head no.
“I guess, because we explained it all in a way that a kid could understand, you just simply accepted it. Then, that year we bought you your horse. His name was Cocoa, remember? But you said his name was really supposed to be Victory, and well, you know the rest.”
The door opened again and this time Dr. Randolph came in and told Piper’s father that his wife wanted to see him. He looked at her to see if she would be okay and knew that he had done his best, what his heart said was right. He kissed her cheek and stood, looking directly into the doctor’s eyes. No words were spoken but the message was clear that the woman in the bed was to be treated with the utmost respect.
The doctor dropped his eyes in deference.
“So, how are we feeling now?”
Piper looked at him and swallowed her contempt. With the friendliest voice she could muster, she spoke while looking him directly in the eye.
“I feel so much better. Thank you. I’d like some water and then I want to get some sleep.”
That seemed to be the answer the doctor was looking for. They don’t know what to do with me, so they keep putting me back to sleep. The trouble is, I keep waking up.
Chapter 23
THE FIRST TIME SHE DROVE her car since Paul’s death was a strange experience for her, as were all the firsts. The first holiday, the first-month anniversary, the first trip to the store to shop for herself, all stood out in her mind like a blinking neon sign. And the sign read: YOU ARE ALONE. She missed him deeply and played in her mind over and over their last conversation. Now you get to remember your selfishness, and the guilt will be here every day for the rest of your life. And you know what? You deserve it. The anger overshadowed the sadness for a little while, but never for long enough.
Since being released from the hospital, Piper had decided she needed to make some big changes in her life despite everyone’s admonitions not to make rash decisions. Yeah, like rash decisions are new to me. I’m an expert in the field. Her mother had refused to discuss the matters concerning her childhood and her hypnosis therapy. If ever there was a “Queen of Denial,” it’s my very own mother. Just my luck. She thought this often when trying to get her mother to recount the conversations she heard through the closed bedroom door all those years ago. “Oh, honey, it was just an imaginary friend. I’ve told you that before, don’t you remember?” This was the only answer that held any truth.
Piper quickly tired of the game and decided to take matters into her own hands. Did people forget that this is her life to live? Being home felt good, peaceful. I’m grateful to be here in pain rather than in that place having no feeling at all. Funny how you can change your perception on something you never thought you could.
Sharon came to visit the day after she got home, and like a true friend, brought lunch, flowers, and tissues.
“Hi, Chickadee!” she chirped.
Piper couldn’t help but smile at this, her favorite nickname. She looked at Sharon, searching for any signs of pity or judgement but knew she’d find none.
“Hi. It’s really good to see you. Thank you for coming out and thank you for …sx.”
Her eyes welled up then but she didn’t try to hide the tears. Now they were just a normal part of her every day, her every night, her every memory. Sharon placed the packages she had brought with her onto the countertop in Piper’s clean unused kitchen, and grabbed a tissue from her supply. She handed it to her dearest friend and continued to locate dishes and silverware while Piper blew her nose.
“Thank you, again.” Piper turned to Sharon.
“What for, darlin’?”
“For not telling me to stop crying. Everyone keeps telling me to stop, to look at my future, to remember the happy times. And guess what? I don’t even know I’m crying sometimes. The tears just come. Plus, they don’t get it. They can’t. They just can’t.”
Sharon placed two heaping plates of Caesar salad on the kitchen table without another word. She just listened. And for the first time in a long time, Piper felt hungry.
The silence between them was not awkward, but instead rather pleasant. Finally. Someone who gets it. I don’t want to talk. I just want to feel better. Piper looked at Sharon and saw comfort.
Later when they had moved to the great room and started a fire in the fireplace, each with a glass of wine, Sharon said, “I’m going to go get our cheesecake and when I come back we are going to make a list.”
“A list?” Piper raised one brow.
“Yep. A list of things you are going to do to start feeling better. I’ll be right back.”
She grabbed Piper’s notepad and pen off the coffee table and handed it to her.
Piper stared at the pad. At the top it read #Hustle and below that was a whole lot of empty space. Hustle. Ha. I used to be all about that. Getting things done. Accomplishments. Climbing the ladder. Goals. Checkmarks. Next! And now, just getting through one hour, minute by minute. That’s my thing. #Gamechanger.
Sharon came back with plates of dessert. Without a word, she placed them on the coffee table, reached into her pocket, brought
out a few tissues and handed them to Piper, who took them but just let them sit on her lap. The tears were earned and she was okay.
“So, what’s it going to be? Your first item on that list. I want to hear it. And it’s okay if it’s small like maybe going to the mall and buying yourself a pair of shoes or a new lipstick.”
Piper looked at her like she had two heads. But she softened, remembering who she was sitting with.
“Lipstick? I guess I could do that.”
Sharon looked at her and nodded as she took a big bite of the lime-swirled decadence.
“Okay. So after that, can you think of something else that might make you feel a little better? Anything?”
Piper sat for a moment, Viceroy at her feet. Her constant companion.
“I guess I could get a trim at the salon. I haven’t had one since before ….”
She looked down at the pad on her lap, the paper now with drops of despair soaking through. She had to shift her list over a bit. 1. Lipstick 2. Trim.
“My lists used to be so … bold. So confident. You know?” She looked at Sharon.
“Mm-hmm,” Sharon knew she could just nod and keep her friend moving forward just like Piper could so quietly move her enormous horses around with only her presence or a simple word.
“So, let’s see. I could go to Crop ’n Carrot. 3. Crop ’n Carrot.”
She pinched off a bit of crust from her plate and tasted it. Comfort.
Piper looked at Sharon then and saw that one eyebrow was raised and she was squinting to understand. They shared a genuine stress-relieving laugh. Piper remembered then that Sharon worked in the human insurance world, not equine. The only thing she knew about horses was that she was terrified of them.
Piper said, “Crop and Carrot is a tack shop. They have these….” She waved the rest of the sentence away knowing Sharon wouldn’t know a boot jack from a martingale.
When dessert was finished and the wine glasses were refilled, Piper put the pad back on the coffee table. Sharon picked it up and read:
1. Lipstick: Ripe Raisin
2. Trim
3. C n C for Hooflex and Ivermectin
4. Find Dr. Corcoran
Knowing what Sharon was staring at, Piper offered an explanation.
“I was thinking maybe I could try to find that doctor. The one my parents brought me to. I don’t know. Maybe he has some answers for me.”
She looked up at Sharon, hoping against hope to not see pity or judgement; but this time she wasn’t very confident that it wouldn’t be there.
Sharon put her glass down and cleared her throat.
“Okay. Let’s do this. Let’s do this now.”
“Really?”
Piper straightened a bit.
“You don’t think it’s crazy?”
Sharon shook her head emphatically.
“Don’t use that word, Hon.”
Piper laughed, “Oh yeah, not such a good choice.”
She took the pad and pen back. She scribbled and drew a question mark. And then under #Hustle she added #Whothehellami?
Chapter 24
DR. CORCORAN WAS IN Connecticut in the mid-seventies. According to Google, he still practiced there. So, three days after Sharon’s visit, Piper decided she needed to pay this doctor a visit and try to get some answers as to why her parents felt the need to wipe out her memories and alter the course of her life. As she typed the address into her GPS she said to no one, “How dare they? It was my life. It is my life. And I want it back.”
Shaking her head and taking a deep breath, she texted Sharon. I’m heading to CT. Wish me luck? She sat back, drew another deep breath, and closed her eyes. Please, God. Shifting into first gear, Piper set her eyes on the end of her driveway. “Here I go.”
She wasn’t on the road twenty minutes when her phone rang. It was her mother, and though Piper could understand that her parents did what they thought was best for her, she was still very angry with them for keeping it from her for all these years. She decided not to pick up the phone, and after a minute, a beep let her know there was a message for her. In fact, there were several messages that she hadn’t listened to, not the least of which were the first three that Paul had left for her the day he died. Skipping over them that afternoon seemed like a good idea at the time because she knew that any important information would be in the last couple. She had never deleted them and now was afraid to listen to them, to hear his voice. Losing her mind was something Piper thought might happen very easily and at any given moment. She knew she was fragile and wanted help before it was too late. She said out loud as her car reached 80 mph, “I wonder if crazy people know they’re crazy.”
When she pulled her car into the parking lot of the old brick building she thought to herself, Oh God, what’s going to happen today? Am I going to be able to handle this? Do I have a choice? She tossed her keys into her purse and cleared her throat; then she checked her makeup in the rearview mirror, noticing the deepening wrinkles, before stepping out into the sobering January wind.
Stepping into the warm building, she let out the breath she realized she’d been holding since she parked her car.
“Cold out there, huh?”
She turned to see an elderly man waiting to leave through the door she had just walked through.
“Uh, yes. Freezing is more like it.” She tried to smile but her face felt frozen. She looked into his ocean blue eyes and for a fraction of a second she sensed that she knew him. In her mind’s eye was a gentleman with a wooden case and glass vials with clear liquid in them. His eyes were the same as this man in front of her. The scent of jasmine, lemongrass and tea reached from behind her nose and begged her to stay in the moment. To focus. She paused and wanted to ask if she knew him from somewhere. He was looking at the floor.
“Your gloves, Madam. I’ll get those for you.” He bent down and picked up the gloves Piper hadn’t realized her frozen hands had dropped.
“Oh. Thank you. I … I feel like I know you from ….?”
The man’s eyes slowly blinked as if in slow motion and he straightened his small frame.
“You’ll need those gloves, Madam. Keep an eye on them!”
And with that, he was gone. Piper stood for a moment as the door closed behind him and she tried to recall the scentache but it, too, was gone. She looked around to see if anyone else was there. She shook her head and walked to the directory on the wall. First Floor – Dr. Corcoran – Clinical Hypnosis. Suite 111. Piper let out a deep breath.
“Found you.”
She stood with her hand on the doorknob and hesitated. What am I doing? This is crazy. She turned the knob and pushed the door inward slowly, daring herself to turn back. Standing inside the warm suite with its sage green paint and latte colored furniture, she knew she was where she needed to be. This is good. This is big. #Hustle.
“Hi, I need to see Dr. Corcoran please,” she said to the mousy receptionist who looked tired and bored, clearly not happy to be at work on this particular day. She didn’t look up at Piper but simply asked, “Can I help you?”
“Uhh, I don’t have an appointment, but it’s very—”
Barbara, as the name plate on her desk announced, looked over her glasses at her as if she were used to this kind of doctor’s office travesty and pointed to the orange vinyl chairs in the waiting room.
“Have a seat.” She took her time finishing whatever it was she had started before Piper arrived and then disappeared into another room.
Piper took a breath and let it fill her cheeks like she did as a kid, only then she used Kool-Aid and loved the way it stained her tongue red or purple or orange. There were diplomas on the wall from several different universities, all very impressive, and she wondered what this doctor could offer her in terms of moving forward with her life now.
After a few minutes, a man appeared in the doorway from which Barbara had not yet returned.
“Good morning, can I help you Ma’am?”
Piper stood up an
d thought for a moment she must have the wrong office. This guy is my age, maybe younger.
She stood up and took a tentative step forward. “Hi. I was hoping to speak with … with someone named Dr. Corcoran, but perhaps I have the wrong address.”
The doctor stepped into the waiting area, closer to Piper.
“Well, I’m Dr. John Corcoran, Jr. What’s your name?”
Piper resisted sticking her hand out to shake his because his hands were on his hips.
“My name is Piper and ….”
Her mind was trying to figure out if the scent of Play-doh was more important than figuring out if she was in the right place.
“Piper? Wait. Not Piper Turchino?” His expression went from anticipation to confusion to realization and back to anticipation.
She stood motionless for another moment, hoping it wasn’t noticeable, as she tried to grasp what she saw in her mind’s eye: Jacks, a rubber ball, Play-doh and a garlic press.
“Yes. That’s my maiden name. Am I….”
Her mind whirled then. Since her hospital stay she had been working on positive affirmations that began with “I am”; now it seemed she had no idea who or what she was, so instead starting a question with “Am I” seemed like a good start.
She looked into the doctor’s eyes as they closely scanned her face and realized there was a lot going on in his mind. This confused her even more
“You are in the right place. I can assure you of that. Please come in.”
He backed up so she could walk in front of him and told her to step into the office on the left.
As she stepped inside, she was greeted by some pretty impressive diplomas and certificates. They all read Dr. John Corcoran, Jr. She looked at him as she sat in one of the chairs in front of his mahogany desk. In a sheepish tone she said, “Actually, I think I might be looking for your father.”
Piper, Once & Again Page 20
