Chapter Twenty-three
As Ellie expected, things didn’t improve.
Her mom’s outbursts worsened, and she’d even slapped one of the nurses who’d gotten too close while attempting to calm her down.
She’d never been violent before, so it triggered immediate hospitalization.
Ellie spent two full days going back and forth with the case manager before finally getting the okay to visit.
She signed in at the front desk and was shown into one of the visitation rooms. It was one of the nicer hospitals of the ones her mother had stayed in through the years.
Fresh paint and lighting that managed to be bright without feeling sterile.
It still smelled like a hospital, though.
There was no getting around the harsh cleaners and overcooked food that seemed endemic to medical facilities.
She took a deep breath and swallowed the wave of anxiety that came a little too close to nausea for her comfort.
It was fine. The visit would be hard, but it was important for her to be there—whether or not her mother was lucid enough to know it.
The doctors would recalibrate her medication and she’d be back to her usual self within a couple of weeks.
She’d just finished the pep talk to herself when an aide wheeled her mom in.
A precaution more than anything else, but knowing that didn’t stop her mind from racing to the very real possibility her mother would lose mobility at some point.
All the medications, all the things that passed for treatment before many of the modern medications were options. They took a toll.
It was a conversation she’d had with her dad during one of their stilted attempts at having a relationship before he passed away. “You need to be prepared,” he’d said. “You can’t put your whole life on pause to make hers more comfortable.”
The advice had come from a good place, even if she’d resented it at the time.
And in the end, her mom had embraced the lower maintenance lifestyle assisted living had to offer.
Donna no longer had to think about cooking or cleaning or laundry.
And she was a joiner, which meant she got more social interaction at her residence than she would if she and Ellie still lived in the house together.
Ellie had hoped having less to worry about might increase the time between these psychotic episodes.
But despite what Donna’s sister had insisted through the years about shielding Donna from things that might upset her, Ellie didn’t actually buy it.
Sure, major stress could trigger things, but so could hormonal shifts or even an ill-advised prednisone shot meant to quash a nasty case of bronchitis.
Chemical imbalances happened and there was little modern medicine could do to predict it.
Fortunately, the opposite was true in terms of managing symptoms. The cocktail of antidepressants and antipsychotics her mother took kept her on an even keel most of the time. And when they didn’t, minor adjustments usually did the trick.
“Hi, Maureen.”
The greeting snapped Ellie from their reverie even as her mom’s use of the wrong name made her sigh. “No, Mom. It’s me. Ellie.”
Donna laughed. “Oh, silly me. I thought you were Maureen for a second. You look so much like her.”
Ellie smiled. She did bear a striking resemblance to her aunt, or at least to the pictures of her aunt from a couple of decades prior. “Nope, you’re stuck with me today.”
“I’m never stuck with you, sweetheart.”
The sentiment and the pet name gave Ellie a familiar pang that she struggled to identify precisely. “How are you feeling today? Did you sleep well?”
“Well, my roommate was yelling and that woke me up, but the nurses came and took care of her and the next thing I knew, they were bringing me my breakfast tray.”
Ellie nodded. She’d never been able to pinpoint whether it was causation or correlation, but good sleep seemed to go hand in hand with her mother’s mental health. “I’m glad it didn’t keep you up too long.”
“The food here is terrible, though. My toast was burnt, and the oatmeal was cold. And who serves toast with oatmeal anyway? All those starches.”
Since it was a perfectly reasonable thing to complain about, Ellie didn’t try to deter her. If anything, it was a point that grounded her in reality. “The kitchen is probably short-staffed. You know how that seems to be the case everywhere.”
Donna shook her head. “It’s because not enough people are going to church anymore.”
If she closed one eye, she might be able to follow the thread of that logic.
But since getting Donna going on church often led to questions about when she’d last been to church herself, she opted to skirt the matter as much as possible.
“Hopefully, you’ll be back at Riverdale soon. You really like the food there.”
“And they need my help to take care of all the babies that the mothers didn’t want until they can be adopted by the couples who couldn’t have babies.”
Ellie pressed a finger to her forehead, right above the bridge of her nose.
Babies were a common theme in her mother’s delusions, fueled by the pro-life stance that aligned with her religious views.
She knew better than to argue about it, even when Donna was well.
“You know what we always say, though. You have to take care of yourself first. You can’t help anyone until you’re good and well. ”
“That’s true.” Donna nodded.
“That means lots of rest and taking your medicine when it’s time. We’ll worry about everything else later.”
Donna seemed to be on board, but something in her demeanor shifted, and her eyes filled with tears. “But one of the babies was crying and I couldn’t pick it up and it died.”
“It didn’t die, I promise. Someone else took care of it and rocked it to sleep.”
“It did die.” Donna’s voice rose. “It did.”
Every instinct told Ellie to drive home the truth, to console her mother with the fact that no babies died on her watch.
And yet she knew better. Being doubted or corrected only created a spiral of agitation that could escalate to the point that Donna would have to be sedated.
She placed a hand on her mother’s arm. “Then it’s with God and the angels now.
We should say some extra prayers for it. ”
Just as quickly as the switch flipped on, it flipped back off. Donna wiped her eyes and nodded her agreement. “You’re right.”
They said a Hail Mary together, and Donna calmed down enough to tell her about a movie she’d seen.
Ellie grasped at the diversion, and they spent the remainder of her visit talking about their favorite movies through the years.
It was the funny thing about psychosis. Even as her mom lost some of her tethers to reality, others remained.
Memory was usually one of them, along with religion.
Ellie carried a certain ambivalence about the latter, but she’d come to accept working with her mother’s parameters instead of against them.
By the time Ellie left, Donna was in good spirits and looking forward to lunch.
She managed to catch one of the social workers in the hallway, who was able to get her a list of the adjustments that had been made to Donna’s medications.
The changes were minor, but hopefully that would be enough.
It was so much better now than when standard practice was to stop all medication and start from scratch.
She offered her thanks and signed herself out.
She got into her car and checked her phone. She had one text from Rhett, laced with the perfect blend of encouragement, empathy, and snark. Another from Pablo, asking if she’d be interested in a job at a boutique hotel in Boston the following month. And a trio of messages from Jack.
How’s your mom?
How are you?
Do you want company tonight?
She sighed, a weird mix of gratitude and discomfort turning in her stomach.
She answered Pablo first, thanking him for thinking of her and asking the scope and pay rate of the job.
She texted Rhett next with thanks of a different nature and a summation of her visit.
And then she pulled up her thread with Jack.
She’s okay. Doctor hopes she’ll be stabilized in the next couple of weeks. And I’d love that. Can I come to you?
When Jack didn’t immediately respond, Ellie got on the road. She could intrude on Rhett’s afternoon until Jack was free and hopefully shake off the heaviness that always threatened to envelop her after an hour in a psychiatric unit.
* * *
Jack had just started up the porch steps when Rhett’s door opened. But instead of Rhett on the other side, it was Ellie. “Hi,” he said, happy to see her but a little relieved, too.
“I’m so glad to see you.” Ellie stepped out, slid her arms around Jack’s neck, and kissed him.
“Uh, that feeling is definitely mutual.”
“One sec.” She turned her head and called over her shoulder. “Good night, Rhett.”
“Good night,” Rhett said.
Ellie pulled the door closed. “Sorry, I should have asked if you needed a minute first.”
“Not at all.” Jack unlocked his door. “I need to let the dogs out, but come on in and make yourself comfortable.”
She followed him in, setting her things on the bench by the door the way she always did.
He headed for the back door, so Dot and Sophia could make their evening patrol of the backyard.
It took them all of two minutes. He had a feeling that would change when the weather got really nice, but for now, they were all about doing their business and getting back inside as quickly as possible.
When he returned to the living room, Ellie had flopped onto the sofa—full slouch, legs sprawled, and feet on the coffee table. “How are you?” he asked.
“Meh?” Ellie shrugged.
“How’s your mom?”
“Meh?” No shrug this time, but she looked away.
“Tell me about it.” Rather than joining her on the couch, he sat on the coffee table and pulled one of her feet into his lap.
Ellie groaned when his thumb pressed into her arch, so he worked the spot. Her eyes drifted closed and her breaths seemed to mellow. Her shift into relaxation highlighted that it was the most stressed he’d ever seen her. “That’s nice,” she said.
He stayed with that foot for a while, then switched to the other, figuring she’d talk when she was ready.
When she remained quiet, he haggled with himself over the line between showing concern and being pushy.
It was a line he’d struggled with in life, given his propensity to go down the internal reflection rabbit hole when he had things on his mind. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Meh?” Her choice to use it a third time conveyed a lot more than the word itself.
“You don’t want to talk?” he asked.
Ellie blew out a breath. “I really, really don’t.”
Her default of keeping things bottled up raised all sorts of red flags, but he knew better than to tell her what she needed. And it wasn’t like he relished hashing through emotional distress. So, he pressed a kiss to her cheek and smiled. “Okay, then. What do you want?”
“Distraction?”
Under normal circumstances, he’d take her hand and take her right to bed. But something told him that wasn’t the right move. “How about dinner and a bad movie and a shoulder rub?”
She let out another sigh, but this one was a little shaky. “That would be great.”
He made pasta—because comfort carbs were called that for a reason—and a small salad.
They ate on the couch with one of the Star Trek movies.
He’d never hopped on board that wagon, but Ellie had grown up with the franchise and was slowly winning him over.
“No whiny anti-heroes here,” she’d declared after convincing him to give it a try the first time.
The memory made him smile even as he worried over saying or doing the right thing now.
When the credits rolled, Ellie swung a leg over his thighs and straddled his lap. “I’m ready for the next level of distraction.”
“Yeah?” Jack’s body responded even as his brain held back.
She gave an eager nod. “I’d prefer to not think anymore tonight.”
He could appreciate that. Hell, he’d been there himself a few times. But something in her eyes made him wary. A distance he’d not seen before. A flatness almost. “What exactly did you have in mind?”
Ellie tipped her head, gave him a playful smirk. Then she circled her hips suggestively. “If I have to tell you, I must not be doing it right.”
Jack smiled. “Your signals are nice and clear. I just, I don’t know. You seem lost in your head a little. I’m totally fine to crawl into bed and cuddle.”
She shook her head. “I need to get out of my head.”
“I know, but—”
“I’d like you to fuck me until I can’t think. If you’re not up for that, it’s fine, but it’s what I want.”
Her voice had an edge to it. A challenge. He could read it as more red flags, but he didn’t want to. Because her words turned him on. And because he didn’t borrow trouble. “I want nothing more than to give you what you want.”
“Good.” She stood and took his hand. “Take me to bed.”
A handful of lights remained on, and the dogs still needed their bedtime walk. But he set that aside and let Ellie pull him up the stairs.
In his room, she started tugging off his clothes like she couldn’t wait to get him naked. He soaked it up and gave it right back. She did things to him, his restraint. Revved him up and left him practically blind with desire.
He leaned into that, letting the worries fall away. Who was he to tell her what she needed right now? He’d certainly had his own moments of using sex to forget about a crappy day. If he could give her that, why wouldn’t he?