Whispers of the marrow, p.20
Whispers of the Marrow, page 20
He stopped the recorder and went back to his seat across from her.
“No, you... went into a deep sleep, but you didn’t speak about what you were experiencing. You were afraid though, of that I’m sure,” he explained carefully and watched her hope fall. “It’s quite normal for these things to take time, and sometimes, the method itself can simply stop working. I don’t believe we have reached that point quite yet, Zee. I think we just had a session in which for some reason, you experienced significant things but did not vocalize.
“I feel as if we’re still making incredible progress, but maybe inviting your sister along for another session could prove useful. Perhaps in some way, her presence is a facilitator.”
That seemed an awkward suggestion at first; Taylor had been anything but a ‘facilitator’. But at least she had given it a good go in the end, and they had made such strides together.
Zee drank the cool liquid, her throat immediately soothed from its strange dryness. “I can ask her. I kinda think this session being a bust is my own fault.”
“How so?” The doctor appeared confused, his lips forming a straight, thin line.
“I’m distracted with...” Zee’s worry of sounding like a lunatic overwhelmed her at times like this, yet she usually plowed onward regardless of any unease in the air.
At this point, her trust in Nathaniel felt almost natural. “Well, don’t be mad, but the past couple of days have been pretty fucking intense, even by my standards. I probably should have told you about it before the session.” She clasped the cardinal charm in her hand, desperate to find her feet in the rising emotional tide. “But... I didn’t want you to know how extremely fucked up my family was and—”
“To think you insane?” he offered softly.
“Yes... no. Maybe?”
“Every practitioner, every therapist knows about the workings of dysfunctional families, Zee. I wouldn’t have drawn any conclusion about you based on any family discoveries you may have made. Remember, my relationship is with you; my observations are of you, by and large. I know you by now, at least sufficient to believe I have drawn reliable assessments, all right? So please never suppress any potentially useful details just to try and protect yourself.”
“Thank you. I know really,” Zee said. “Maybe I just couldn’t get my own head ‘round it.”
“Did you have another dream or remember something from your childhood?”
Zee’s legs started to bounce uncontrollably. What she wouldn’t do for a smoke. “No, well, I guess but it’s all sorta related. You remember my Aunt Maggie?” To his committal hum, she continued, “Turns out she’s alive. My mother, grandmother, and sister told me that she’d died just so they could protect me from her.”
“Wow.” Momentarily taken aback, Nathaniel cleared his throat. “Well, that’s um...”
“Yeah, my sentiment exactly.” Zee smirked, somewhat amused by how Nathaniel had become uncharacteristically lost for words, especially after saying what he’d just said.
“I’m sorry. I suppose I wasn’t expecting such a monumental revelation. Why did your family feel you needed to be protected from Maggie?”
Zee launched into a play by play of the conversation that had taken place at Talbit Harvest. It was a different type of release, telling him of all the things that she couldn’t reason away or fight on her own. Punching in the dark worked out better if someone beside you carried a light.
And Nathaniel LaConte seemed to always have a light.
“The fire would explain the trauma you’re experiencing. Your subconscious mind couldn’t reconcile the fact that you almost died,” Nathaniel explained once she’d stopped speaking. “I even understand your family’s position. If my loved one were to be put through such an ordeal, I would want to keep them as far away from the danger as possible, though I don’t agree with them lying to you about Maggie being deceased. Allowing you to see her, gaining closure, could’ve possibly helped you heal years ago.”
“Well, that’s what I thought too. So, I went to see her yesterday,” Zee admitted softly. “I promised my family I wouldn’t, but I had to. I paid a worker at the home to sneak me in since they refused to put me on the list.”
“I fully support your decision,” he assured. “If you can provide me with the contact details for the facility, I’m sure I can work out something on your behalf that will allow you to see her in a bona fide visit without your family’s interference going forward.”
“You can?” Zee asked, her voice hopeful. The idea of seeing Maggie again without the guise of sneaking around made her elated. “I’d appreciate it, whatever you can do!”
“Just email me the details later, and I’ll let you know what I come up with by next week,” he said. “So, would you like to tell me what you both talked about? And there’s no pressure if you would rather keep it to yourself.”
Zee didn’t reply right away. Where would she possibly begin in explaining how a catatonic woman could suddenly move and speak, and how said woman could know everything using these so-called views, while experiencing absolutely nothing outside of her brick prison. As she lay awake last night, she’d chocked up Maggie’s omniscience to Sophia and Beverly’s monthly visits, most likely updating her on the family’s affairs. It made sense.
But what of the dreams? How could she possibly explain Maggie’s knowledge of her innermost subconscious? It was impossible to sift through the bizarre occurrence of Maggie’s ranting of frigid shadows and Sarah Murdoch, an alias of Granny So-So...
Or perhaps an alias of Maggie herself.
“We uh... didn’t speak. Maggie’s catatonic. Has been for years,” Zee answered.
Nathaniel’s expectant face fell and what Zee equated to passive empathy settled on his features. “I’m very sorry to hear that. Catatonia is incredibly difficult to watch. I’ve worked with patients with the disorder in the past, and their families have a hard time reconciling how someone can be in the same room with them yet be a million miles away.” He leaned forward a thoughtful inch or two, placing his notebook on the table and clasping his hands together. “Once we sort out your visitation, I’d be happy to take a look at her condition.”
Zee hesitated. Maggie seemed only willing to share her bouts of lucidity with her. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask, Zee,” Nathaniel said with a small smile. “I offered.”
She huffed out a small laugh. It had been far too long since someone had sat in her corner without wanting anything from her in return. “You’re a good dude.”
Nathaniel considered the compliment and smiled. He had been called critical, demanding, even anal-retentive, but never good. “You’re not too bad yourself,” he quipped.
Then, he caught sight of the time displayed on his watch. “I’m afraid our time’s up. I have a suggestion, any I’m not sure how receptive you’ll be to the idea. But I’ll float the idea anyway. Until our next session, I want you to take some time away from this.”
To his patient’s bemused face, Nathaniel continued, “Look at it this way; you’ve been after a seemingly unobtainable goal non-stop for the past three months and you’ve managed to move mountains in that time. Perhaps shifting the focus to rebuilding your interpersonal relationships, for a small period at least, could also be a monumental help moving forward.”
“That actually makes sense,” Zee said. Although she hadn’t told any of her family about the visit to Maggie, things had shifted considerably since Talbit Harvest. Beverly had called twice in the last four days to check in, making Zee wary of Maggie’s wild accusations.
She and Taylor were speaking on a daily basis too now, more than they had in recent months.
And Aryn, well, the ex-girlfriend matter still wasn’t resolved, but it took time to heal a broken heart. “I do have a little family bonding planned for the weekend. My nephews are visiting and I plan on taking them to the state fair on Saturday.”
Nathaniel nodded approvingly. “What better way to relax than taking two young boys to a state fair on its most attended day of the week?” he said with more than a hint of sarcasm.
“God, Nathaniel,” Zee chided. She rose from the couch and slung her messenger bag over her shoulder. “Was that an actual joke? I think I’m rubbing off on you.”
“Maybe a little.”
They said their goodbyes after scheduling her next appointment.
Nathaniel took the seat behind his desk when she was out of sight and retrieved the bottle of Scotch stashed in his bottom cubby.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
October 27th, 2017
Friday arrived far too quickly for Zee’s liking, its pretenses far less menacing than its arrival, and it shattered her carefully constructed expectations into a million tiny shards with one short text.
I’m stopping by.
The message had arrived in the wee hours of the morning right after Zee’s shift at the bar, and it landed without mercy, offering no explanation for showing up; however, its implication was abundantly clear. The demand to be heard remained uncontested by the recipient.
Aryn wanted to talk; thus, Zee’s manic frenzy had been born.
She primed their three-bedroom, two-bath single family home until it sparkled and shined, creating the model illusion on the Triangle’s Parade of Homes circuit.
She expected that upon Aryn’s thorough inspection, the house would still fail the real-estate agent’s impossible standards for cleanliness, reminding Zee of her own mother’s penchant for all things tidied, scrubbed and delivered to an impossibly hygienic degree.
Zee had made the mistake of bringing up the comparison to her ex-girlfriend only once, two years into their relationship when they both had still resided in their own apartments.
Zee had offered Aryn assistance during her spring cleaning at her then home, though she didn’t understand why a person who compulsively scoured surfaces on a daily basis would need to complete such an endeavor. She showed up with an extra-large cheese pizza and a six-pack of ginger ciders to aid their effort, finding Aryn glove deep and working on the baseboards, scrubbing as if her life depended on it. Her hair was up in a sloppily constructed bun, becoming messier due to relentless scouring, and Zee couldn’t help but to smile at the scene.
She gestured to Aryn’s work, supplying casually, “Can’t believe I fell for someone as obsessive as my moth—” A sponge flew across the room, cutting her off mid-sentence, bulls-eyeing into her cheek. The look of smugness and vexation on Aryn’s face ensured Zee would never finish such a jibe or begin another.
Zee much preferred remembering those times over the other one that played on repeat, the one in which Aryn’s sense of betrayal rang out at catching Zee quite literally with her pants around her ankles, some imposter ravishing her.
In the hours leading up to the first true tête-à-tête since all that, Zee continued to fret and dither over the most mundane decisions. She stood in front of the bedroom mirror judging the sixth outfit. Should she serve coffee or tea? Zee had known Aryn to be partial to both herbal teas and medium-ground blends, but had her tastes changed?
After all, she had ended up with Jonathan, again.
Next came all the waiting, Zee pacing the hardwood floors of her living room in short strides. Aryn had never been one for tardiness. After nearly two hours of Zee’s nervous shifting, she realized something: she had been stood up. Perhaps Aryn just wanted to mentally break her a little bit more, which Zee could understand. God knew, she had earned the right to do it to her.
Zee tried to perk up, admittedly a little relieved. At least her nephews were being dropped off soon and she could look forward to undoing her sister’s strict teachings.
She planned to pump them full of sugar and gluten, substances in which all kids should be allowed to partake so close to Halloween. Then they would have a horror movie marathon—PG-13, of course. Soon, the doorbell rang.
She’s early for once. Well done, Taylor! You’re better than I am at timekeeping!
But Zee’s face fell. No Taylor.
As for Aryn... she had decided to show up after all.
“Hey,” Zee greeted shyly, stepping aside to allow Aryn entry. “Didn’t think you were gonna show up since so much time had passed.”
Aryn strode purposefully into the foyer without a word, leaving Zee to gather her bearings before following.
“Oh, should I apologize for my two-hour delay? I figured it was okay given your knack for ghosting people for weeks at a time, but you know, my bad,” was Aryn’s caustic retort after she entered. Her glare was temporarily betrayed, her curious gaze settling upon her former lover. “I was held up at a few stagings. Not that I should need to explain. Not to you.”
Zee nodded, choosing not to comment either way. She already felt like crawling outside of her skin, only thirty seconds into their conversation.
“I’ll need the new set of keys for the house,” Aryn said when she spoke again. “Seems like my old set doesn’t work for some reason.”
There was an applied emphasis on the latter three words, carrying implications.
“Yeah, I actually changed them after what I thought was an attempted break-in,” Zee lied easily. “But I’ll get the new ones to you next week.”
“Please ensure that you do, at least before your next disappearing act. I won’t waste my breath giving you the whole spiel about how worried everyone was about you, except me, of course. I had a feeling you were just being your typical spiteful self.”
Zee’s morose eyes remained on the floor, unable to stomach the disdain in hazel eyes in front of her. She was definitely in for it. “Ryn, I—”
“Don’t bother. If you’ll excuse me, I need to take some photos of the house for the listing. It looks fairly presentable at the moment but who knows what state you’ll have it in come the actual time of purchase,” Aryn stated plainly. She retrieved the cellphone from her purse, leaving the other woman completely mute behind her, fidgeting with her hands.
Zee moved to the doorway of the kitchen, now fiddling with the chain around her neck as Aryn quietly evaluated the house. Even though Zee was taller than the petite woman by three inches, she trembled in the presence of Aryn’s anger; her temper had a habit of running from a brisk chill to Vesuvius in three-point-five. But it wasn’t long before Zee found herself once again under Aryn’s quiet scrutiny. “Can we talk?” Zee asked, throwing a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll make coffee, or tea if you want.” She sighed, her cheeks tinged in embarrassment from her inability to handle any of this really, yet completely missing the other woman’s amusement.
“Coffee’s fine,” Aryn answered. She walked toward the breakfast nook to take a seat on the padded bench along the window.
Zee felt the chilly gaze on her back as she moved along the counter space, fixing their cups, remembering exactly how Aryn took it without prompting. And if she was dragging a little in their preparation, the other woman seemed to choose not to comment.
For all the build-up in Zee’s head, the table remained awfully silent in the traditional kitchen space after she seated herself across from Aryn, disrupted only by the sounds of sipping and cups being set down. It was not only awfully silent, but awkwardly so. Painfully so.
Zee stared at her mug, daring to sneak the occasional glance at the gargantuan diamond around Aryn’s ring finger. It was tasteful and expensive, exactly the sort of thing she would have chosen if she didn’t know the woman sitting in front of her hated diamonds. So, why would she be wearing such a ring? Did the precious Jonathan know his Aryn so little? Or had Aryn’s tastes somehow changed by virtue of being with a different partner? It was all hard to conceive, hard to get her head around. She would have loved to ask. But she could not, would not—dared not.
Zee sighed. There was some sort of a talk she needed to instigate here. Managing to achieve it was something else. She could do this. She had prepared a speech, talking points to be more precise. It was all a bit obvious in theory, but still she was floundering in the impossible moment.
Because an apology, even an honest one, would be nowhere near enough to justify all her past actions. And what came out of her mouth was not an apology in any shape or form.
“I got a new bed,” Zee blurted out to her own bemusement. “Got it a few weeks ago.” Putting her foot in her mouth, then taking it back out again, she continued, “It’s bigger.”
“I noticed,” Aryn said, her shoulders remaining rigid beneath the black form-fitting business dress she wore, one that happened to rank among Zee’s favorites. “Though, I can’t say I’m too sad about it. Didn’t really love my last memory of the old one.”
Zee winced because, yeah, she should’ve seen that coming. She shook her head and wished for a do-over. “Okay, I totally deserved that—”
“You think?” Aryn voiced incredulously. “Because I believe you deserve far worse after crashing my goddamned engagement party and punching my fiancé in the face. Can you understand how embarrassed I was, how stupid it made me look in front of everyone? I was the girl who had spent so much of her life with such a volatile, petty person...”
“I’m so, so sorry,” Zee said lowly. “I was so messed up after... I just... I wasn’t thinking. I’m so sorry, Ryn. But it’s really like I said. I was fuzzy headed, didn’t even know it was him—”
“Oh, sure.”
Aryn turned away. The air was tense again, both moment and mood seemingly impassable.
Up close and personal, Aryn would have barely recognized this Zee who folded to her will like wet paper; the Zee that Aryn knew was self-possessed if a bit closed off, and never backed down.
But this Zee was resigned, tossing in a hand before the true betting had begun. Each time Aryn pushed back, Zee accepted it, head down, voice low, shamed into acquiescence. God knew, Aryn probably wanted a fight, wanted a reason to hit hard so she could give Zee everything, every bad and pent-up feeling that she had been quashing for so long and was brewing inside.
