Chapter Four #2
Ellie did a little wave with both hands. The mere chance she could deprive one of the residents of the five-dollar jackpot was deterrent enough. “Oh, no. I’ll just watch you.”
That got her a suit-yourself shake of the head but no argument.
The blackout game started, and her mom’s attention went to her cards.
Ellie used the time to study the other residents.
More women than men, which was to be expected.
Several sat in wheelchairs, and a number of others had various styles of walkers parked next to them.
Her mother was definitely one of the younger people there, and probably more ambulatory than most. Other than the tremble in her hand—a side effect of the Seroquel her doctor had added to her list of prescriptions a few years prior—she had every appearance of good health.
That was the thing with mental illnesses, though.
They could be invisible. Until they weren’t.
The truth of it was that Ellie still struggled sometimes with the exact ways her mother’s schizophrenia manifested.
On one hand, she had profound gratitude that the pharmaceutical cocktail her mom’s psychiatrist constantly fine-tuned kept her mother calm and lucid and able to live with some degree of normalcy.
On the other, the less sophisticated treatment methods Donna had endured during her teenage years—including some of the first wave antipsychotics and electroshock therapy without anesthesia—had blunted her emotional development and left Ellie feeling she lived with a peer more than a parent for much of her childhood.
Her own time in therapy had helped on that front. Ellie had made peace with the things she’d missed. Now, she could appreciate that her mom was physically well and never made Ellie question whether she was loved. It was more than a lot of people had.
The game ended when a gentleman with Down’s syndrome edged out the competition with a fully covered bingo card. “Can’t win them all,” her mom said after an initial “phooey.”
They headed back to Donna’s room. “How’s your week been?” Ellie asked.
“Good, I suppose. We had a visit from a group of Girl Scouts and did a craft project with them.” Mom smiled softly. “It’s good to be around kids since God only knows if you’ll ever give me grandchildren.”
Ellie nodded. Her mom didn’t mean it as a dig, or at least not really.
Her illness made her self-absorbed in ways that might feel toxic with another person.
But Donna always had the best of intentions.
In addition to making peace with things, Ellie’s years in therapy allowed her to hold space for both the good intentions and the hurt that such comments caused regardless of intentions. “What did you make?”
Donna pointed to the riot of red, pink, and white hearts masquerading as a wreath. “Valentine’s decorations.”
It looked a little bit like a Party City store had vomited its Valentine aisle all over the otherwise defenseless door. But Donna loved color, so if it brightened her day, who was Ellie to rain on that parade? “It’s so cute.”
“I let one with pigtails and glasses decide what we should put on it.”
Well, that explained that. “I’m sure she had a blast.”
“I think so.” Donna nodded. “She said her mommy told her ‘more is more’ and not to worry about going overboard.”
Ellie chuckled at the advice. Better than the alternative, especially when it came to little girls navigating a world that wanted them to do and be the exact opposite. “Looks like you succeeded.”
“I was hoping you could take me shopping for a few things.”
Ellie was accustomed to abrupt conversational shifts, just as she was used to her mom’s love of running errands for odds and ends she could easily ask Ellie to bring over. “Of course. I thought we might go out to dinner, too.”
“That would be nice. I just need to get my purse.”
For Donna, “getting her purse” would be a twenty-minute affair of sorting money, organizing tissues and hand sanitizer, and a trip to the bathroom.
Oh, and the protracted process of switching house shoes for winter boots.
She didn’t mind, though. Her mother’s fastidiousness around routines served as a proxy for her feeling in control.
Even without experiencing schizophrenia firsthand, Ellie could appreciate her mother’s needing that after being denied it in so many areas of her life.
While Donna puttered, Ellie took stock of the space. They’d decided to hold onto one of the wing chairs from the living room, along with Donna’s dresser and nightstand. She’d worried the room might look crowded, but Donna kept it neat as a pin, so it felt both purposeful and personal.
Tidiness was a trait Ellie hadn’t inherited, unfortunately. And without her mom’s constant nudging, one she struggled with even more as an adult. She chalked it up to being an artist and free spirit, so she didn’t lose sleep over it. There were plenty other things to worry about.
When Donna finally declared she was ready to go, Ellie headed to the front desk to sign her out, then pulled the car around to the front door.
She checked her phone as her mom got settled in the passenger seat and found a text from Rhett about bonding with Jack over time spent in basements with projects.
She smiled but tucked her phone away without responding.
She’d text later when she was back home at Hampstead House.
Now was the time for daughter mode, and while she was happy to do it, it always felt better to keep it separate from everything else.