Chapter 36 Lorna Now
Lorna sat on the floor of her apartment with a glass of wine and Aggie snoozing on the couch behind her.
The stacks of pink and white envelopes were in front of her, and she was casually pondering the difference in the size of the stacks.
There were far more white letters than pink.
She pushed the white ones to the side—she knew what they said.
But she hadn’t read the pink ones. She was going to do that tonight. She was preparing for her trip to Florida, and she knew that Kristen’s life there would be detailed in those letters.
Earlier that day, she’d called her dad for the first time in months.
“Lorna?” he’d said, his voice full of surprise. “I can’t believe it’s you. I didn’t think I would ever speak to you again. Is everything okay?”
Lorna had to think about that. “It’s getting better. I’m calling because there is something I need to do, and I thought you’d want to know.”
“Uh-oh,” he said. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“I need to come see Kristen.”
Her words were met with a very long pause. Lorna could feel the tension radiating through the phone. “Really?” he said at last, his voice flat. “Why now?”
“Because I’m working on letting go of the past. And I need to forgive her. And I need her to forgive me.”
Dad snorted derisively. “You know she can’t do that.”
“I know she can’t talk,” Lorna said.
“She’s not all there, Lolo. I don’t know what you think, but she’s just a shell at this point.”
Lorna’s chest tightened. That was exactly what she’d feared was in the pink letters that Trish kept writing.
“Still, I need to come. Is that okay?”
“Of course it’s okay,” he said, sounding snippy now. “I’ve been asking you to come to Florida for ages. I could use some help here. Text me the information and we’ll pick you up.”
“Thanks.” She wanted to say she missed him or she loved him.
But she didn’t find either of those things to be true.
He had ceased being a part of her life so long ago that she couldn’t even remember what it felt like to have a dad, much less love one.
As a result, she felt nothing for him. Family was funny that way—either you were in it or you weren’t.
There was no halfway. “I’ll see you soon,” she’d said softly.
Now she picked up the first pink letter. “Here goes nothing, Aggie,” she said, breaking the seal.
Trish’s handwriting was big and loopy.
Dear Lorna,
I hope you are well. We went to see Kristen today. They have her sitting up in the dayroom, watching TV. At least it appeared she was watching. But she didn’t show us any recognition.
“How could she? She never saw you either,” Lorna muttered.
Kristen drew something on a piece of paper. It was just a few lines, but it was progress.
She needs underwear and socks if you’d like to help with the purchase.
They have put her on antianxiety meds because she gets agitated.
We were going to take her out for some sun, but the wheelchair we rented wouldn’t fit in Dave’s truck.
Kristen’s hair is falling out. They think she might have an iron deficiency, but we would have to pay for that test.
And so on.
When Lorna had finished reading the pink letters, she drained the last of her wine.
Then she picked up the stack of white letters and began to open them.
They were all typewritten, spell-checked, and surprisingly chatty.
She scanned them all, the words she’d written still ablaze in her brain.
But when she read them one after another, she could see, could feel , the rage, the guilt, and the utter grief that dripped from each page.
It was little wonder she had locked herself away.
The true wonder was that she’d survived.
But Lorna had finally come to realize there was nothing she ever could have done to change the outcome of what happened.
Of anything. Sure, she might have let Kristen stay, but there would have been a next time, and a next time, and a next time.
Kristen had been on the road to this fate since she was ten years old.
Maybe she’d been destined for it from the beginning.
And the only person who could have stopped it, who could have changed the course of it, was Kristen.
She either couldn’t or, for some subconscious reason, didn’t want to.
Lorna recalled what a substance abuse counselor had once told her.
“Your sister likely won’t change until she hits rock bottom,” she’d said.
“And she hasn’t hit it yet. Remember, we are talking her rock bottom.
Not what you think her rock bottom is. Not what your rock bottom is.
You must make peace with loving her from afar. ”
Well, she guessed Kristen had finally hit her rock bottom.
She stacked the white letters next to the pink and picked up the accordion file Peggy had given her. She took out the papers and began to sort through the details of the will and the trust.
There were so many papers in that file—a death certificate, papers from probate. A certificate from the cemetery. Her mother’s banking information. And then Lorna found what she’d been looking for—the information on the trust itself.
She read through it. Then read through it again.
After a moment of disbelief, she burst into laughter so loud that Aggie jumped up from a dead sleep and barked.
She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
After all the agony of getting to this trust, there was only $7,500 in it.
That was it, all her mother had left after her own illness and Kristen’s continued care and the settling of her estate.
The next morning, on her way to Bodhi for the last time (unless, as Xandra said, she wanted to cough up $500 a week for services), Lorna received a text from Callie.
We are back from vacation. Our middle kid keeps asking about Bean. Maybe you could bring him and come for a glass of wine in the next couple of weeks? Do you even drink? What do you do? You were so weird when you were here I was afraid to ask.
Lorna was stunned. And ridiculously over-the-moon pleased. She quickly fired back a response. Oh my God, I am so glad you got in touch. Yes, I drink on occasion. And I am trying to be less weird. Feel free to point out all weirdness so I can work on it.
Callie texted back; they made a plan to meet.
Lorna had emailed Deb this morning to let her know she was attending her last session and that the program wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d expected. She admitted to learning a few things about herself.
Deb almost immediately wrote back. Great! So happy to hear it. I can’t wait to have you back in the office.
Lorna didn’t believe that for a minute, but she was coming back. Just as soon as she returned from Florida.
Montreal was there to greet her on the way in. “Yoga today?”
“Absolutely,” Lorna said.
Montreal smiled as he escorted her to the yoga studio. “You know, when I advised you to lean into those yoga pants, I didn’t really believe it was possible. Are you going to keep up your practice?”
“ You were surprised? Imagine my shock and awe. Yes, I am going to keep up with my practice. I pass a yoga studio on the way to work.”
Montreal laughed. “Lorna, that is awesome.”
After yoga and morning meditation, Lorna met Montreal so that he could escort her to Micah’s office.
“I like what you’re doing with your hair,” he said.
“What, letting it go au naturel?”
“It’s fun,” he said. “Curly and wild. Kind of like you. I like it.”
Lorna was far too delighted with the compliment. “Do you really think I am curly and wild?”
They had reached Micah’s door. Montreal put his hand on her arm. “I think you are curly and wild and amazing.” He opened the door to Micah’s office.
“Lorna!” Micah called. He was in silky green lounge pants and a Bon Jovi T-shirt today, and his long locks were piled atop his head in a towering bun. He held up a cup of lavender tea for her. “Graduation day,” he said.
“Yep.” She took the tea and sank gracefully onto the beanbag. She’d been practicing at home with Bean. “May I say something?”
“The floor is yours.”
“When you said I was grieving, I was angry with you. I didn’t realize that I was grieving, but I do now.”
Micah smiled. “No apology is necessary. It’s not uncommon to dislike observations. And no one likes to grieve. Many people spend years denying grief. So now that you’ve completed your list, how do you feel about your month here?”
“That’s the other thing I was going to tell you. I’m not quite done with the list.”
“No?” He looked confused and took a file from his desk.
“It’s not in there. I have one last stop on the apology tour. And it’s a whopper.”
Micah looked up. “Tell me.”
“I’m going to see Kristen. And... I’m going so that I can forgive her. And then see if she can forgive me. If she’s capable. I mean, cognitively.”
“Wow,” Micah said, and slowly put her file aside. “I don’t think we have enough time to tackle this one.”
“It’s okay. I think I can handle it with my new coping skills. Although, it is entirely possible that I am being very stupid and about to undo everything I’ve worked for in here.”
Micah chuckled. “There is a very thin line between stupidity and bravery, you know, but I’m banking on this being bravery. Just remember you’ve spent a month looking at the roots of your dysfunction and working to put yourself in a healthy mindset.”
“My dysfunction?” Lorna smiled sheepishly. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
“Well... your isolation and loneliness were dysfunctional, were they not? You have found ways to come out of your shell and let negative thoughts go. If you feel yourself getting tense or angry when you see your sister, remember some of those techniques to tap into your thoughts and change the trajectory.”
“Right,” she said.
“And remember that when you let go of the past and negative thoughts, you are open to healthier and newer experiences. The relationship you had with your sister does not have to be the relationship you have now. What she represented to you when it was a healthy relationship is still there. You might find a way forward that is new and different.”
She thought of Bean. Of Seth. Of Martin and Liz, all of whom she now considered friends. And when it came to Seth, well, she hoped for more. “So... it’s like if I can find a way to feel completely safe, even when I’m gruff and crotchety, I can let the past go.”
“Something like that.” He grinned. “I’m going to miss you, Lorna Lott. I hope you’ll stop by and let me know how the last apology goes for you. Now... let’s get you into some float therapy before you end for the day. Won’t hurt to be in total darkness, alone with your thoughts, one last time.”
Lorna sighed. “Oh, Micah. Never change.”
He laughed.
She went to her last float therapy and found, as she was weightless, floating in complete darkness, that she did think about what he’d said.
She thought about Bean, who accepted her from the beginning.
About Seth, who never asked her uncomfortable questions and made her feel safe in his company.
She thought about Callie texting her, and seriously, was that real?
Could she really be friends with Callie again?
She thought about how she was finally forgiving herself, the person in her life who needed to be forgiven the most. She thought about so many things that when Montreal eventually knocked on her door, she didn’t want to get out. She had so many more things to think about.
Hey K, so guess what? I’m coming to see you. I’m sort of glad but very scared. I don’t know what to expect. Will you know me? Will you remember what happened? Will you remember how much I loved you? Will you ever forgive me?