Chapter 9 #2
Ava sat at the bar and dropped her forehead onto her folded arms. “That job was mine to lose,” she said into the counter.
Very few people had the level of stamina needed to manage a role like that. She had it. But now, what good was her ability if she couldn’t demonstrate it to anyone?
Ava sat back up. “What am I supposed to do now?”
“Well—”
She pushed away from the bar and paced the room, not waiting to hear what her mother had to say. Without an understanding of the weight of this, her suggestions wouldn’t be helpful.
“I can’t believe that idiot hit my car! He ruined everything. What did I do to deserve this?” She stopped and faced her mom. “I haven’t hurt anyone. I give to charities. I take care of myself. I’m honest …” At a total loss for a solution—a feeling she wasn’t used to having—she resumed pacing.
Martha walked over to her. “Sometimes things happen to us, and we didn’t do anything at all to warrant them.”
With no rebuttal for her mother’s comment, Ava surrendered, her shoulders falling. Her torso ached; her head pounded.
“I need a minute,” she said.
“Okay.” Her mom picked up her quilting. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”
Ava went out onto the deck and sat on the edge, overlooking the lake.
Everything outside screamed happiness. The birds sang, the trees rustled, the lake shimmied.
The earth didn’t seem to notice her life was falling apart.
It made her feel insignificant. Everything she’d worked for and strived to accomplish meant nothing to this little spot in nature, which was humbling.
Whether she’d gotten the job or not, the fish would swim just the same, the breeze would blow as it had always planned to.
Ava thought back to the younger version of herself who’d climbed into her daddy’s boat and spent all day fishing.
What would that little girl say if she’d met Ava now?
Little Ava would probably take her hand and ask her to go fishing.
Little Ava was just like the lake—indifferent to mature Ava’s problems. Where, along the line, had she changed so drastically that a single email could ruin her life?
Gingerly, she lay back on the deck and gazed up at the bright blue sky, her tired eyes burning. Are you trying to lead me in another direction? she asked the voice. A bird flew overhead, and then another. She closed her eyes, listening. But there was no answer for her.
When the shock of losing the partner position had worn off, Ava was left wondering why she’d had that dream in the early hours.
In it, she’d gone underwater. It was as if she’d known the rejection was coming.
Had she sensed it somehow? Could it have been some message from beyond?
If so, what did “ You’re not done yet ” mean?
Her day didn’t get any better. When she arrived at Vanderbilt for her testing, Lucas wasn’t there. She’d specifically asked him to come. And she’d promised not to text him.
Disappointment welled up in her eyes because her childhood best friend wasn’t there when she’d had the worst day ever.
But that emotion made no sense because Lucas wasn’t her best friend anymore.
He hadn’t been in years. So why did she still feel the same way for him?
Had she been so busy with work that she hadn’t matured in her relationships?
Was she stuck in some sort of juvenile state of mind?
Or was there something else at work, some reason she felt what she did for him?
“Dr. Phillips called and said he’s so sorry he couldn’t make it,” another doctor told her as the woman gathered materials from a shelf and returned, “but he has the flu.”
Yeah, right.
While the woman seemed kind and had a friendly smile, she wasn’t Lucas. A sinking feeling took over that Lucas didn’t feel the same bond Ava still felt when she was with him. She took in a deep breath, her ribcage reacting with a shooting pain. She was living in the past.
“My name is Dr. Kate Williams. I’m one of the neuropsychologists. I’m going to administer your emotional-psychological testing.”
The doctor pulled out a chair and offered Ava a seat before sitting on the other side of the table. She clicked a few keys on her laptop.
“All right. Let’s start with a few basic questions.” Dr. Williams pulled a pair of reading glasses from the breast pocket of her lab coat and slipped them on. “Have you noticed any changes in your mood since the accident?”
Ava scooted up to the table. “Yes, but I don’t think it has anything to do with the accident.”
“Let’s try not to define the reasons for any behaviors just yet. So you have experienced changes in mood? Would you elaborate on what you’ve experienced?”
“I’ve been more emotional since the accident—I cry.”
The doctor typed notes on her laptop. “Can you think of specific instances where you’ve cried when you usually wouldn’t?”
“My dad died when I was young, and I didn’t cry over his death until now. And when conversations come up about him, I cry sometimes. It’s like I’m not as mentally strong as I used to be.”
“Okay.” The doctor clicked a few keys. “Have you had any abuse or trauma in your life?”
“No.”
She typed again. “It sounds as if your emotions over your dad have been suppressed until now.”
“Why would I suppress my emotion?”
Dr. Williams took off her reading glasses and looked Ava in the eye. “Usually people suppress emotions when they are too painful to deal with or when they have inadequate support in place to help them manage the feelings. In essence, they avoid the distress.”
“That makes sense. My dad was my favorite person, and his death was painful. My mom and I were the only ones left, and we avoided grieving him. We just got on with life.”
“It’s great that you can verbalize that. It might be worth setting up some grief counseling to help you manage those old feelings if they begin to affect you negatively.”
“Okay.”
The doctor put her glasses back on and consulted her screen. “Have you noticed any changes in your sleeping habits?”
“Only last night. I had a nightmare. But sleeping is okay.”
“No other concerns? No unusual dreaming patterns, apart from last night?”
“Nope. Just the one night.”
“All right. Keep an eye on it, and if you find the nightmares popping up more frequently, call us and let us know.”
Ava nodded.
“What about your interpersonal relationships? Have you found yourself clinging to anyone or obsessively wanting to be with anyone?”
That was murky territory. Should she tell this random woman about her near-death experience and her obsession with finding Lucas?
And then should she tell her about how he’d been on her mind all day and how disappointed she was that he wasn’t there, especially since she’d promised not to push him?
Should she delve into the fact that she knew her days in Nashville were limited, and there was no way she was leaving him without knowing what was wrong?
And even then, could she leave him and go back to her regular life?
“Are you having any obsessive thoughts or feeling clingy to anyone?” the doctor repeated.
“Oh, sorry. Nope. All good,” said Ava.