“Seriously, Doc. Please, what was her name?”
Sighing, she tipped her head with impatience and embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “Her name was Sabrina.”
My heart began to march in my chest. “I might be overstepping here, but was she Sabrina Wright?”
In that moment, Doctor Vanessa Travetti revealed a side of herself to me that I’d never seen before. Her face burned a glowing, bright red, the color of her defensive rage, as she tightened her grip around the pen. Her mouth formed a terse line as her spine went rigid, and all that gave away her blatant hurt underneath, was the glazing of her eyes.
“Blake, how dare you,” she pushed from her lips, her voice pulled so tight against the strain in her chest. “How do you know that? Have you been digging up information about me?”
“No,” I stated simply and honestly. “I—”
“Why would you do this to me?” she demanded. “Why would you—”
“Doc,” I told her hurriedly, “Audrey is Sabrina’s sister.”
“Audrey? Your … Audrey is … Audrey Wright?”
As I nodded, Vanessa pressed one hand to her chest as the other dropped the pen to the floor. She covered her mouth to stifle a gasp as her eyes stared blankly toward me, almost as if she’d just seen a ghost. My first instinct was to hug her, to console her, to tell her that this shit was just par for the course in my life, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe this was just the final piece of one big puzzle, all coming together to create something giant and beautiful in the most confusing, unbelievable, and fucked-up way. But, I didn’t hug her. She was still my therapist and we were still on the clock.
But, instead, she hugged me.
“Oh, my God, how is she? How is everybody?” she asked, holding onto me tightly, now realizing I was her only connection to the family of the woman she loved.
“I think you already know how Audrey is,” I managed to laugh.
“Oh,” she stepped back and cleared her throat, “right. I guess I do.”
“This is weird,” I was the first to say, and she laughed, nodding in agreement. But then, she added, “It doesn’t have to be, for now, but I think you might want to find yourself a new therapist eventually.”
I pondered that for a second, considering myself with someone new after all the years I’d been seeing the good doctor. I wondered if I even really needed the therapy anymore, now that I had Audrey, and the truth was, I didn’t think so. I no longer thought it was necessary and probably hadn’t been for a while, but the thought of not having Dr. Travetti in my life left me feeling off. I didn’t want to say goodbye.
“Maybe,” I answered. “We’ll see what happens.”
She nodded understandingly. “With Jake.”
“Yeah. Exactly.”
“You’ll keep me posted, of course.”
“Come on, Doc. You know I will.”
The session felt over, and so I stood up. I told her I’d see her the following Monday, or maybe sooner, depending on where the week went, and I headed toward the door. She stopped me with my name, and I glanced over my shoulder.
“Blake, about praying …”
“Yeah?”
“Maybe He listens most when you get angry.”
I nodded and smirked as I said, “Well, I got plenty of anger to spare.”
“Oh, I know,” she offered me a smile. “Put it to good use.”
I walked the rest of the way to the office entrance, when something Audrey’s mom had said weeks ago struck me, the night she’d told me about Sabrina’s girlfriend, about how much she’d loved her. I bet she missed her, too.
“Hey, Doc?”
“Yeah, Blake?”
“You should give them a call,” I said. “I think they’d really like to hear from you.”
Vanessa didn’t reply for a few moments, but I waited with my hand on the doorknob, ready to leave. Finally, she coughed and cleared her throat, before saying, “Thank you, Blake. I think I might.”
***
Time passed in a monotonous drag, with every day bleeding seamlessly into the next. Audrey had taken the liberty of cancelling all my tattoo appointments for the foreseeable future, until we had a better idea of what was going on, and I was grateful for it. That gave me the freedom to spend every day at Jake’s side, watching for the flutter of an eyelid or the twitch of a finger, and when the chair became too uncomfortable, I crawled wearily back to Audrey’s place, never mine, to collapse in her bed. It’d become my new routine, but after a week had passed, I found that not having a distraction was a dangerous thing.
I had too much time. Too much time to think, dwell, and obsess. I’d find myself glancing over Jake’s body to stare at my mother. The woman who’d seldom acknowledged my existence in the time we’d all been at the hospital. She looked at me like she was sorry, but if she really was sorry, then why couldn’t she make more of an effort to make things better? She could’ve thanked Audrey for dropping off dinner every night. She could’ve smiled at Freddy when he told her he was sorry. She could’ve looked me in the eye when she said she’d see me tomorrow. But she never did, and I was pissed.
“Maybe you shouldn’t go to the hospital tomorrow,” Audrey suggested hesitantly.
I stared at her incredulously. “Are you serious right now?”
Ann ladled beef stew into the bowl in front of me and said, “It’s not a bad idea, honey. You’ve been there all day, every day, for the past week. You need a break.”
“Yeah? And what if he wakes up and I’m not there?” I challenged, my tone teetering toward irritation.
“Your folks will call you,” Audrey’s father, George, assured, meeting my eye and holding my gaze.
“He’ll be scared though, and if I’m not there, it’ll make it worse.”
Ann looked to Audrey for backup, who covered my hand with hers. “You’re right, and we know that. But, sweetheart, sitting in that room every day for hours on end isn’t helping anything.”
I shook my head as my resolve began to buckle. “But if he wakes up—”
“Then you’ll hurry over there to be with him. But in the meantime, you should at least go home and get some other clothes to wear.” She grimaced apologetically, lowering her gaze to the hooded sweatshirt I’d been wearing for nearly a week.
I’d been avoiding my house ever since the accident. Jake was everywhere within those walls, and the thought that he might never walk again, let alone through the door, tore at me in a way I don’t think I can describe. I was so afraid that seeing all his things would rip at the wounds and make them deeper, that I would’ve been all right to never step foot in there again. Still, I knew Audrey was right. My clothing options at her place were limited to only a couple of t-shirts, one pair of jeans, and the sweatpants I’d been wearing the night of Jake’s accident. I needed to suck it up and go home, if for only a little while.
“I’ll go with you, if you want,” Audrey offered.
“No, it’s fine.” I shook my head, keeping my gaze on the steam curling up from the bowl. There was no way I’d let her take time off from work so close to her holiday break, just to hold my hand while I collected some clothes from my house. It was absurd, even if it did sound tempting.