CHAPTER 32
The exam room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The doctor looked at Jackie as if she’d actually lost her mind along with her voice. “Okay, Jacqueline. Could you retype that last part? I need you to repeat to me what you just said, because I am baffled.”
Jackie sighed. At least she trusted Dr. Erica Randall to be real with her.
It just so happened that the premier otolaryngologist in the city was also Jackie’s sorority sister.
Jackie retyped her previous statement, editing it slightly for clarity.
“One minute, I wasn’t talking; the next minute, I was.
My voice came back after I was intimate sexually with someone. And then it went away again!”
Erica rested her hand on her chin. “Okay Soror, I’m about to take off my physician hat and put on my friend hat… Are you fucking with me? Because this sounds vaguely like the plot to The Little Mermaid.”
Jackie laughed and shook her head.
Erica consulted her notes before speaking again.
“Jackie. We’ve run every test. Your laryngoscopy was clear.
There’s no evidence of a stroke or spasming.
My best guess was idiopathic vocal cord paralysis, but we typically see those patients present with other symptoms—difficulty breathing or swallowing, for example.
But you’re in great physical condition other than your speechlessness.
And now you tell me your voice returned briefly after sex?
I think whatever is happening with your vocal cords is psychophysiological. ”
Jackie frowned, then typed. “What does that mean?”
“I’m very much about to sound like Bronwyn, so bear with me,” Erica began.
Jackie sighed, but she was grateful to have a doctor who knew her—and her friends—so well.
Erica continued, “There is a mind-body connection going on here. You said you first lost your voice when you were in a heated discussion, right? And then it came back to you when you were, uhm…intimate. And I would guess you lost it again when you were put in another stressful situation. Am I getting that right?”
Jackie rolled her eyes at how simplistic Erica made it all seem but nodded, agreeing. She hadn’t disclosed to the doctor that she’d just contemplated having midday office sex, just in case it’d bring her voice back again.
“I suspect this is about stress. You may have what we call a conversion disorder. The loss of your voice is likely a somatic response to stressors. You’ve gone through a lot, Jackie.
You work harder than anyone I know. You’re a single woman handling it all on your own.
And PeeWee’s health crisis comes to mind.
Everyone knows you love PeeWee so much. You brought him to the chapter Christmas party as your date!
Had on an ugly sweater and everything,” chuckled Erica as she reminisced.
She put a hand on Jackie’s knee. “The thought of losing him probably scared you to death.”
Tears welled in Jackie’s eyes. “Yes, but I always knew he’d pull through,” she typed. PeeWee’s recovery hadn’t been easy, but she’d tried to remain positive.
Erica gave Jackie look. “You sure about that?”
“Okay, I was stressed,” Jackie typed, confessing the truth. “Especially with the tumor thing. Just found out it was benign. But I lost my voice days after PeeWee went into surgery, so the medical mystery remains.”
“So glad to hear PeeWee’s tumor was benign! But Jackie, I don’t think this is a medical mystery.”
Jackie’s anger rose as she typed into her app. “So, you’re saying all of this is in my head? Like I made this up?”
“No, not at all! I believe you, Jackie.” She took Jackie’s hand. “I’m saying life is stressing you out to the point where you cannot talk. Our bodies shut down when pushed beyond the limit. That’s why, when you’re more, uhm, relaxed, you’re able to speak again.”
“So, sex isn’t the cure?” the app blared, volume suddenly soaring, echoing in the room. Maybe Antonio didn’t have the magic stick like Jackie’s girls had suspected.
“Ah, no. What I think is happening is that you’re so relaxed when experiencing intense pleasure or riding a post-orgasmic high, your guard is down. Your worries are gone. Therefore, your vocal cords are temporarily relaxed, allowing you to speak.”
Jackie thought about it. She was pretty blissed-out when she was having sex with Antonio. She hadn’t felt like that since…well…since the first time she and Antonio had been together a decade ago.
“I’m going to give you a referral to a really great therapist who deals with this kind of mind-body stuff,” suggested Erica. “I think once we figure out the triggers, your voice may return.”
Jackie typed in her phone. “So, basically you’re saying I need to go sit on some lady’s couch and get my head right?”
Erica laughed. “Soror, you know you should have been in therapy! Busting windows is never a good look.”
Jackie’s eyes widened as she typed, “Oh my god! That was one time! The duck?” She sighed. She really missed cursing.
“I know, sis,” Erica stood and stretched out her arms to Jackie for a hug. “But your line name wasn’t Little Miss Dynamite for nothing, though. You’ve always been a bit unpredictable.”
“Rude,” Jackie typed, then playfully nudged Erica before leaving her office.
JACKIE DIDN’T FEEL LIKE HEADING BACK TO THE OFFICE AFTER HER doctor’s appointment.
Thinking about seeing a therapist made her uneasy.
There was no way a therapist wouldn’t look at her strangely when she told them—through an app—that she was so stressed out she literally couldn’t speak.
Instead, she decided to distract herself with retail therapy.
She made her way into Couture and Collars, a high-end pet boutique near Buckhead Village.
Between Mo busting in, Antonio’s hero act, and Doctor Erica, she hadn’t had a moment to celebrate the good news about PeeWee.
Her cancer-free baby definitely deserved a few treats, and shopping for him always put her in a good mood.
“Ms. Miles!” Pamela, the owner of the boutique, hurried over and gave Jackie air kisses. “We have the most adorable Louis Vuitton vest that just came in. It would look absolutely ravishing on PeeWee! Would you like to see it?”
Jackie nodded, clapping her hands in excitement.
“Please follow me,” Pamela instructed.
As Jackie followed Pamela to a glass counter, she saw a flash of red out of the corner of her eye.
A woman with wild red hair and shabby-chic clothes was standing near the designer dog bedding.
She looked totally out of place in such a high-end establishment, and she also looked familiar.
It wasn’t until Jackie saw the woman’s shoes—a pair of well-worn combat boots—that it clicked.
It was her. That weirdo woman from the animal hospital.
Jackie held up a finger to Pamela to excuse herself and marched right over to the woman who was perusing a ruffled dog bed liner. Fuming, Jackie tapped her on the shoulder and waited for her to turn around.
“For the last time, I can afford to shop here. Oh.” The woman looked at Jackie, surprised. “It’s you. The lady with the Frenchie. I was wondering when I’d run into you again. I told you he’d pull through. I’m usually right.”
Jackie wanted to wipe that smug expression right off the woman’s face. She pulled out her phone and typed, “What did you do to me?”
The redheaded woman wrinkled her nose. “What are you talking about?”
Jackie’s fingers were going so fast across the phone screen that she wouldn’t have been surprised to see flames.
“You put a curse on me! I know all about hexes! My great-grandmother worked roots! You put a root on me.” That last part about her great-grandmother Willie may or may not have been an exaggeration.
Willie was just really good at cursing people out.
She was probably where Jackie got it from.
“Oh! Now I remember.” The woman let out a dry chuckle. “So, how long have you been struck silent?” She looked over at Jackie’s phone. “An app? That’s creative. I guess you couldn’t stay quiet for long.”
Jackie typed furiously. “You need to take this curse off me! For real! You’ve ruined my life!”
“Oh dear,” the woman sighed, clutching a string of bright blue beads around her neck.
“Toots, I don’t do curses or hexes. I just let you know what’s already in motion.
Mother Mary can’t get rid of the truth. I just say it as I see it.
Honestly, I should have charged you my going rate for that tidbit of information. ”
Jackie’s hands shook as she typed. “I’m not paying you for anything! Tell me, how the hell do I get my voice back? Permanently?”
“Well.” Mother Mary fingered the ends of a gold-plated dog collar as she thought. “Have you been speaking with your heart and accepting the truth? There is power in the tongue, Toots.”
Overhearing the commotion, Pamela eyed Mother Mary suspiciously. “Ms. Miles, is this lady bothering you?” She looked Mary up and down. “Ma’am, perhaps Petco is a better fit for your needs.”
Mother Mary gasped. “Discrimination! I’ll have you know, I’m a successful businesswoman, and I can afford anything—well, just about anything—in this store!” She looked at Jackie. “Besides, I’m speaking to a client.”
Pamela looked at Jackie. “Ms. Miles? Is this true? Do you know this woman?”
Jackie nodded, assuring Pamela that she was fine.
“Very well. Please let me know if you need anything. Security is just a call away.” Pamela gave Mary a parting side-eye before returning to the counter.
“What a twat,” Mary mumbled. “She doesn’t know it, but her husband is robbing her blind. And sleeping with her assistant. But enough about her. You, doll, let’s get to your problem. You didn’t answer my question.”
Jackie gnawed at the inside of her cheek before typing a response. “I have been truthful at times. Very specific times.”
Mary raised a brow. “What times were those? Hun, I’m not quite following.”