CHAPTER TEN - LIZ
CHAPTER TEN
LIZ
Liz fidgeted with the bracelet on her wrist and tried not to look as nervous as she felt.
She looked up at Dr. Mayer who sat behind a huge oak desk. Why was his desk so large? Weren’t therapists supposed to keep their offices comfortable, with recliners and couches? And why was Dr. Mayer so frustratingly calm? It wasn’t normal to be afraid of everything, but was it normal to be as chill and relaxed as the man who sat before her?
Liz took deep, steady breaths. Once upon a time, she used to enjoy coming to see Dr. Mayer. Perhaps she was just having an off day. Or maybe she’d gotten out of the habit of slowing down to discuss the worries and fears that ran circles around her brain.
“Liz?” Dr. Mayer asked.
She blinked and met his gaze, realizing that she hadn’t really said anything so far. “I’m sorry. Did you ask a question?”
Dr. Mayer smiled warmly. “I asked what brought you in to see me. It’s been a while.”
Liz’s fingers danced across the charms, trying to determine which was which without looking down at them. The friendship heart. The car. The muffin. The dress. She rolled her lips together. “My parents are in Ecuador for the summer visiting my mom’s family. My grandmother had a ministroke, but it sounds like she’s doing better.”
“That’s good news,” Dr. Mayer said.
“Yes, it’s a relief. Since Rose is in school, my parents left her with me while they’re away.”
Dr. Mayer’s eyebrows rose with interest. He was a dramatic-looking man. All his features were dark against pale, surprisingly smooth-looking skin. “How’s that going?”
“Good,” Liz said. “I mean, she’s immature and hard to handle.”
“How old is she now?” Dr. Mayer asked.
“Sixteen. She’s driving, and she somehow got her eyebrow pierced without adult permission. My parents won’t be happy. Especially my mom.”
Dr. Mayer smiled again. “That’s a teen’s primary goal in life. To make their parents uncomfortable.”
“And their older sisters.” Liz rubbed the pads of her fingers across the car charm, feeling the rough texture of the glittery finish. “My friend Melody has also come home for a couple weeks. I haven’t seen her in nine years.”
Recognition crossed Dr. Mayer’s face. He had been working with Liz on and off most of her life. Even before the wreck, she’d struggled with anxiety. It had worsened afterward, of course. Dr. Mayer knew everything Liz had been through.
Liz held out her arm. “This is the charm bracelet that was lost in the accident. I’ve told you about it before.”
Dr. Mayer looked at her wrist from behind his glasses. “Yes, I recall. Your friend had it all this time?”
“No. Her great-aunt did. It’s a long story, but . . .” Liz lowered her arm back to her lap. “I don’t know. The fact that it’s been found feels like a sign of some sort.”
A little divot formed between the psychologist’s eyes. “What kind of sign?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a sign that Bri, Melody, and I aren’t as alone as we thought. That we’re still connected.”
“Is that what you want?” Dr. Mayer was always asking questions. At one time, Liz had kind of thought it was his job to give her answers, but he never did. She usually found her own answers as she talked to him. He was just very skilled at asking all the right questions that led her to the answers she had difficulty finding on her own.
Liz’s fingers moved to the next charm. It was a tiny house. She pressed the point of its roof into the pad of her index. “I think so. Maybe it’s a silly fantasy, but I want my friends back. I want us to be the way we once were.”
“You know that can’t happen though, Liz,” Dr. Mayer said.
She nodded, even though she didn’t know that at all. Why couldn’t it happen? Yes, things had changed, but the one thing that remained was that she, Bri, and Melody were all bonded. Maybe the one thing that tore them apart was also the thing that kept them connected. Maybe the tragedy didn’t have to break them. Perhaps it made them stronger when they came together.
Liz talked for another fifteen minutes. Then she stood. “Thank you, Dr. Mayer. This session has been helpful.”
“Good. I’m glad,” he said. “We’ll continue this conversation next week?”
“I’m already on your schedule. See you then,” Liz said with a smile.
After leaving Dr. Mayer’s office, Liz strolled down the small downtown area where she worked. She wasn’t quite ready to go home. She had so much on her mind, a result of all Dr. Mayer’s probing questions. They led her to answers she was already well-aware of about herself. She was stagnant in her emotions, her relationships, and her life. Fear was holding her underwater even if she had convinced herself otherwise. The fact that she made it through most days without a panic attack didn’t exactly equal progress. It just meant she’d shut herself off enough to deal with what came her way.
Progress was stepping outside the safe confines of her little box—because if she waited for all the fear to go away, she’d never get better.
Liz stopped at the storefront window of The Book Whore and looked at the display. A huge sign was front and center announcing a sale and a complimentary smile. That, in and of itself, made Liz perk up. She decided to go inside.
“Lizzie, is that you?” Danette called from somewhere in the back.
“Hi, Danette. Yes, it’s me. I was just out for a walk and thought I’d see if you had any good books for me. I’m going to see Bri tomorrow. I might want to take her one.”
Danette seemed to shake from the inside out as she approached. Her head, her arms, her legs all appeared to have a mind of their own, but somehow the parts of her body worked together to get the bookstore owner where she was going. Liz didn’t think Danette had any serious neurological disorder. Danette had explained her condition once, saying her nerves were frayed from a life lived haphazardly. At least Danette had lived her life.
Liz swallowed past the dryness of her throat, a result of too much talking in Dr. Mayer’s office. She needed a glass of water. Or wine.
When Danette was standing a couple feet away, she straightened her eyeglasses and looked at Liz. “You okay, Lizzie?”
Liz took a deep breath, begging her emotions to get in line. “I think so. I’m just . . .” She paused for a minute. “Have you ever felt like you were sleepwalking through life, Danette? Then something happens that stirs you awake? Some part of you just wants to go back to sleep, but you can’t.” Liz’s eyes welled with tears that she was determined to keep at bay.
“You’re describing my first marriage.” Danette chuckled, making her head bob even more. “We married and then I was stuck in this loveless relationship. I didn’t want to file for divorce because it felt like too much trouble. All the days blurred together for years.”
“What happened?” Liz wasn’t sure she had even known that the bookstore owner had ever been married.
“Well, when you’re in a state like that, something big has to take place. To shake you.” She gave Liz a pointed look. “Or wake you. For me, it was a man. He walked into my store one day. I’ve never had such a physical reaction to anyone in my life. I felt like every cell inside me lit up. We talked and found out that we had a lot in common. Then he came back every day, pretending to need a new book.”
“He liked you too,” Liz said, finding herself fascinated by Danette’s story.
“Yes, he did.” Suddenly Danette’s body seemed to calm. The shakiness relaxed just a bit. “There was a moment when I knew I loved him. But, in order to be with him, I had to make the changes I’d been too afraid to before. He was the motivation I needed.” She looked at Liz. “So what has finally woken you up? Are you in love?”
Liz folded her arms over her chest and shook her head quickly, the quick motion making her head spin. “No, nothing like that. Just . . . Mel came home. I guess she brought back a lot of memories . . . which reminded me of the reason I’ve been sleeping through life.”
Danette poked her glasses higher on her nose, seeming to scrutinize Liz the way Dr. Mayer had earlier. “If you’re looking for a book to help you find the secret to life, it’s not here.”
Liz already knew that. She’d scoured these shelves and every self-help title there was. “What about a book of poetry? Bri really loves poems these days.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, I do have a small section of that.” Danette gestured for Liz to follow. She walked down a narrow aisle and pointed to the second to bottom shelf. “I can’t bend the way I used to.”
Liz squatted low to browse the selection there. As she did, the charm bracelet slid off her wrist. When she reached to pick it up from the floor, her hand knocked a book off the shelf. It landed right at her feet. The cover was a purple color that stood out among the rest. Liz reached for the book and read the title. Dream Weaver: Poems about Following One’s Passion. Liz wanted this book for herself, not that she read much poetry, but maybe she’d start. She pulled another book off the shelf to bring to Bri and stood. “These will do.”
“I know Bri appreciates you visiting her,” Danette said. “You’re a good friend.”
Liz looked down for a moment. Was she a good friend? A good friend might have gone to see Melody in these lost years of their friendship, instead of feeling sorry for herself and blaming Melody for leaving. A good friend would have seen that other people were hurting just as much as she was. Liz always did the easy thing. The thing that didn’t scare her. She’d stopped driving, so going where Melody was had seemed like an impossibility. She had called and emailed though. For a while at least.
Liz looked up at Danette, realization settling over her. “You’re not married. What happened to the guy you fell in love with?”
Danette’s body started to shake again. “Oh, he was just the impetus I needed to put me on a different track, I guess I thought I was filing for divorce because of this man, but I was really filing for myself. This fantasy guy and I had a whirlwind romance, and then one day he disappeared. I went looking for him, of course.”
“Did you find him?”
“I did,” Danette said. “He was married with two kids. He lived in a house with a white picket fence.” Her eyes grew shiny for a second. “I guess he was looking for an escape as much as I was.”
“I’m so sorry, Danette,” Liz whispered.
“Don’t be. I stopped sleepwalking through life that summer. I’ll always be grateful to him for waking me up. That’s worth a broken heart, if you ask me.” She turned and walked to the register to ring Liz up. Danette reached for Liz’s debit card and swiped it with impressive accuracy considering her condition. “Tell Bri I said hello, will you?” she asked, looking up with a sweet smile.
“I will. She’ll love the book of poetry. Thank you for your help. Your bagel is on the house in the morning.”
“Oh, happy day,” Danette called as Liz headed for the door.
Seeing Dr. Mayer had helped considerably, but in some ways, coming inside this bookstore and talking to Danette had helped even more. As Liz stepped out onto Seagull Street, she stood there a moment and let the sun shine on her skin. Something sparkled below her gaze that made her look down at her wrist. There was a book-shaped charm on the bracelet. Liz blinked. That wasn’t there before, was it? Had Melody added it without Liz realizing?
Rose honked and slid their mother’s car haphazardly to the curb in front of Liz. The driver’s side window was rolled down and Rose poked her head out to look at Liz. “Want a ride?”
Liz stood frozen on the sidewalk for a moment. She thought she was waking up, but maybe she was still dreaming. “You’re offering me a ride? Without me asking for one?”
Rose rolled her eyes. “Do you want a ride or not?” she huffed. “I know you had that appointment this afternoon. I saw your calendar. I don’t know.” She jerked her thin shoulders in a shrug. “I thought you might be tired.”
Liz’s sister was actually considering her feelings? This was progress. Maybe spending a little time together in their parents’ absence would be good for them after all. “Wait. If we’re both here right now, who is running The Bitery?”
“I called that temp Mom uses sometimes,” Rose said.
“What? Without asking me first?” Liz shook her head.
“You would have said no.”
Liz didn’t argue. She just headed toward the car. Instead of going to the passenger side, however, she walked around to the driver’s side and dipped to talk to Rose. She was tired of letting her fears stop her. If she could drive, she could accept the bigger photography gigs she’d been offered from time to time. She could start pulling in more money from her hobby and chase her dreams like Jo had advised in her final letter. “Can you teach me to drive?”
Rose let her sunglasses slide halfway down her nose and gave Liz an “are-you-crazy” look.
“I’m serious,” Liz said. “But I need it to be now before I lose my courage. Please.”
Rose’s pierced brow arched high on her forehead. “I can’t teach you. I just learned to drive myself.”
“I have my license. I know what to do.” It was true although Liz wasn’t sure she actually remembered how to drive. “I need moral support more than anything.”
“From me?” Rose’s expression twisted further.
Yeah, this probably isn’t the best idea.“Slide over,” Liz demanded.
Rose hesitated, but then she lifted her body over the center console and into the passenger seat. “Don’t kill us, okay?” As soon as she said the words, her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
Liz ignored the comment, opened the door, and slid into the driver’s seat. She curled her fingers around the steering wheel and began to shake like Danette from the bookstore.
Rose began to speak, but Liz cut her off by holding up a hand.
“Shh.” Liz closed her eyes, forcing deep breaths. The more she breathed, the more breathless she felt. Her heart raced so fast that she felt lightheaded. She reached for the charm bracelet on her wrist, hoping it would center her. “I can do this. I can do this,” she chanted under her breath.
Rose made a squeaky noise beside her.
“Shh . . . I can do this.” Liz finally opened her eyes and looked out the front windshield as the nausea clenched her stomach. “I can’t do this.” Pushing open the driver’s side door, she bent forward and vomited on the pavement below.
To: Liz Dawson
From: Bri Johnson
Subject: Friends are good therapy
Liz,
I’m glad you’re going back to Dr. Mayer. I think sometimes it helps to talk to someone. I’ve seen a counselor at the prison a few times. I’m sure Dr. Mayer is a better counselor than the one I saw. I swear that woman was making her grocery list while I poured my heart out to her.
Anyway, you can vent to me too, you know. Always. I can’t promise that I’ll know what to say. But I’ll listen and I won’t judge you. That counts for something, right?
Ally sends me messages almost daily. She’s having a great time with her father in California. That shouldn’t make me upset, but I cry after reading every email (when no one is looking). I want her to have a great time with me. I want to be the one to take her places like Sunrise Park and the movie theater. I want to take my daughter on spa dates and get our nails done together. I want to be a good mom.
I want to be a good friend too. I know you need me. I’ll be there soon.
B