Captured Again (11 page)

“Yes. I remember that. Why do we have to dredge this up over and over again?” Gabby asked defensively.

“What about after the accident?” he asked.

“What about it?”

“What do you remember about
after
the accident, Gabby?”

Gabby’s eyes began to burn. She could feel her throat seizing up and her heart beating faster. She didn’t want to think about this anymore. Why couldn’t they just let her move on? Why did they keep picking at it like an old scab just on the verge of healing, only to be opened up again to bleed some more. She looked at the psychologist with pleading eyes, hoping for mercy. Her plea was met with eyes full of determination. She was going to have to answer this, yet again.

“Okay!” Gabby blurted out angrily. “I remember! I remember seeing Jake crying tears of blood before I passed out. I remember coming to and seeing him on a stretcher, covered in a white sheet. That’s it. That’s all I can remember until I was home again, out of the hospital.”

The doctor chewed the end of his pen, studying Gabby for a long, uncomfortable moment before the probing continued.

“What about the funeral, Gabby? Do you remember the funeral?”

Gabby stared off into space again, trying to clear the cobwebs of her mind, to grasp any string of a memory that would tie her back to that forgotten day. What kind of wife wouldn’t remember her own husband’s funeral? But she could find nothing—not even a wisp of his memorial curled up, hiding just out of sight. It just
wasn’t
there.

“
No!
I told you before. I cannot remember the damn funeral. What kind of wife does that fucking make me? A bad one? I... I’m... It’s—”

“Okay, Gabby, calm down. That’s enough for today. I don’t want to upset you. You can go now. I’ll see you same time next week unless you need me sooner. Just try between now and then to piece it back together so we can talk about it.”

Dr. White patted Gabby on the back as she rose and made her way to the door. Gabby wanted to brush it off, to let him know she didn’t appreciate having to come here to be poked and prodded into remembering this and remembering that.
This remembering shit is making my mind flip somersaults.
She just wanted to forget. Or maybe she just wasn’t ready to remember yet.

“O
livia, this is bullshit. Why do I have to keep coming here?” Gabby demanded as she stomped into the waiting area before the door had even closed behind her.

Olivia jumped up from her chair, where she’d been waiting for Gabby, her eyes an odd combination of sadness and hope. “Geez, Gab. Watch the language.” Olivia shot a sideways glance to the receptionist desk. Luckily, she was on the phone and didn’t seem to hear. “Anything new? Did you remember anything after the accident?” she asked.

“No! For the thousandth time, I didn’t. And I don’t see why I need to. Why can’t everybody just let me deal with this in my own way?” Gabby argued while holding the door open for Olivia. “If coming here is supposed to make me feel better, it’s not working, Olivia.”

Olivia blew out her breath, seemingly frustrated.

“No, Gabby. It’s not supposed to make you just
feel
better. It’s supposed to help you
get
better. And you know it’s not optional. Until you’re fully released, it’s either come here and talk when they tell you to or go back into the hospital. You don’t want that, do you?”

Gabby shook her head and turned to walk out the door, her frustration showing in her rapid steps. Olivia snatched her bag and hurriedly followed, just grabbing hold of the door before it shut behind Gabby.

“No, I don’t want or need to go back to the hospital. I have to work, Olivia,” she said as she kept walking. “I’d lose my damn job if I have to go back in. But I’m getting really tired of him asking me the same question over and over again. What good does that do?”

Olivia quickly caught up and put her arm around Gabby, squeezing her in a half hug. “It’s supposed to make you focus, Gab. Clear your mind of the clutter, and focus... That’s all. It’s a starting point. You can’t make any progress until you get past the starting point.”

“I don’t need to make progress. I already have. I’m okay. I’ve moved on. I’m living, sleeping, eating, working... What more progress could I make? This is bullshit.”

Olivia stopped walking. Gabby made it a few more steps toward the parking garage when she realized Olivia wasn’t beside her anymore. She turned around to find Olivia standing stubbornly in place, arms crossed and face serious.

“What?” Gabby asked. “You look like you have something to tell me.”

Olivia opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again, blowing out another loud breath through her nose. She shook her head.

“Gabby, I’m tired of this, too.
Seriously?
You think I like rearranging my work schedule to meet my stubborn twin at the doctor’s office every week, just to make sure she shows up, instead of having her stubborn ass thrown back into the psych ward? Really? I’ve got a lot better things to do than this. If you refuse to even try, then I’m done.”

Gabby crossed her arms and stared back, matching the defiant look on Olivia’s face. This was the way it always was... tough love. Gabby knew Olivia meant well, but how the hell was she supposed to try when she didn’t know what she was trying for? What did they want from her? But she couldn’t lose Olivia... not now.

“Okay. I’ll try. I really will, okay?” Gabby offered.

“Okay.”

Olivia started walking again and met up with Gabby, who turned and matched her hurried stride toward the parking lot, sighing in relief. She knew deep down she needed Olivia for this—even if she didn’t exactly know why.

CHAPTER 15

Gabby
peeked into the rearview mirror, smoothing down her hair around her face and checking her makeup just before she pulled up to Mom’s house. She wanted to look put together, look
normal
. The more normal she looked, the fewer questions anyone would ask.

While she’d let on to Olivia that she didn’t really want to come tonight, that wasn’t exactly true. Since Mom had joined them in their support group years before and listened—really listened—to what each had been through and shared her own history, Mom had changed. Or maybe they’d all changed. But Mom had mellowed out. She’d learned to pay attention to her girls, even watching them like a hawk now, always on alert to keep her baby chicks safe and away from further harm. While it sometimes got on Gabby’s nerves that Mom had to have her nose in everybody’s business, it was a welcome change. Once they all knew each other’s secrets, and they each saw there was no blame bestowed on each other, they were closer... an equal team in building each other up and keeping a watchful eye, sisters in survival—or Survivor Sisters, as they liked to remind each other when one of them was down.

Mom had married her boyfriend, Nick, five years ago. She’d finally gotten her happily ever after. He was a drinker to start with; that was true. But only beer. He’d quit after he asked Mom to marry him. He didn’t have an abusive bone in his body. He was a big, cuddly teddy bear that they all adored. He had the cutest smile and laughed easily; it was contagious. He could make anyone laugh.

Nick worked hard so Mom could quit her factory job and found the perfect place to live out her retirement years, in the middle of a huge patch of woods. He loved to build and quickly cleared a place for the house. When that was finished, he constructed fences, barns, and chicken coops, filling them up to give Mom something else to focus her mothering on, since her own chicks had flown the nest. Mom named all her chickens and she knew who was who at just a glance. It wasn’t unusual to see her out talking to her feathered ladies as if they were just another group of gossiping women, pecking, strutting, and fluttering all around Mom while she rambled on about the latest book she’d read or what was happening on the news, or God forbid, some juicy gossip about one of her girls.

Gabby put the car in park and gathered up her cell phone, purse, and a pie she had picked up on the way. These dinners had been routine since the first group meeting Mom attended. She had pulled the accountability card that Mr. Knight—Russ—had proposed on her first meeting. Keeping ears open and eyeballs peeled for any signs of distress from each other so it could be addressed before disaster. Everyone was supposed to bring something to these traditional monthly dinners—something home-cooked—but the store-bought pie would have to do. Gabby had no desire to cook since Jake was gone. This would be their first dinner since the accident.

As she made her way up the walk, she heard pinches of conversation floating out the screen door toward her.

“She didn’t remember, yet?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Maybe she’s not telling you.”

“She would tell me, Emma. We all would know.”

“Maybe we should just ask her—”

“No!” Olivia snapped. “The doctor said she is experiencing avoidance symptoms. The PSTD had to have been triggered by her believing she’d seen René. The accident only pushed it further into a full-blown episode, so she’s burying the traumatic event and avoiding certain people, places, and things. This is called
emotional numbing
, and if we push her, it could trigger her to cut us off, too. The doctor said it’s very common. She needs us. So we need to keep our mouths shut until she faces it on her own.”

Gabby had waited long enough. She felt ridiculous spying, like a child. She pulled the screen door open and stepped in. “Face what? What am I not facing?”

Olivia, Emma, and Nick all froze in place. Nick was in the kitchen, and Emma and Olivia were sitting on the couch.

Emma was the first to speak. “Nothing, Gab. We weren’t talking about you.”

“Then who were you talking about?” Gabby asked suspiciously.

Emma looked at Olivia, then at Nick, waiting for someone else to jump in. No one seemed to have an answer. Nick finally took the lead, walking toward Gabby and taking the pie with one hand while rubbing Gabby’s back with the other. “Okay, yes. They were talking about you. They’re just talking about you coming to grips with what happened before and after the accident. We’re all just worried about you, that’s all.”

“Nick... I
told
you—” Olivia warned, standing up and crossing her arms. Emma stood too.

“I know, Olivia. I’m not
asking
anything. I’m just saying we’re worried about her. Isn’t that okay to say?” Nick interrupted, raising his eyebrows innocently.

Something about the whole thing felt off. Nick rubbing her back? He wasn’t usually a touchy-feely person, except with Mom, so that in itself was bizarre. Gabby’s stomach took on an empty, fluttery feeling.

“Where’s Mom?” Gabby asked.

Emma and Nick spoke at the same time.

“She’s not here.”

“She’s gone.”

“What the—” Gabby started.

“She’s not going to be here for dinner.” Olivia interrupted. Her mouth bent into a forced smile.

Gabby felt a surge of unexplained panic building; her heart started beating faster and she could feel herself starting to sweat, even as her body felt a blast of cold air from a vent blowing above her. She grabbed the door for support. Emma and Olivia rushed over, each grabbing an arm.
Something is wrong.

“Gabby, sit down.” Olivia urged her.

“Yeah, Gab. Come sit down with us and let me tell you about the hot cop I met,” Emma added while helping lead Gabby to the couch.

“No!” Gabby yelled, pulling away from them. “Tell me what I need to face? René? Jake? What were you all talking about? I want to know.” She made her way to the couch without the help of her sisters, not wanting to give in and sit, but not able to stand anymore. She dropped her head between her knees and tried to breathe, feeling a panic attack approaching. Her heart still beat wildly and the sweat now crept in cold drips down her sides from her armpits. Her skin felt clammy.
What the hell?
she thought.
I’m cold but sweating. Maybe I picked up a bug at the medical clinic? Did they have sick—physically sick—people there in the same building?

“Olivia, do you feel sick? I think I might have caught something from the doctor’s office,” Gabby said and then raised her head up to rest it on the arm of the couch.

“No, I’m fine, but maybe you did, Gabby. Just rest a while,” Olivia answered patiently as she picked up Gabby’s legs and pulled them onto the couch, laying her down.

Emma grabbed a blanket from the back of the recliner and tucked it in around Gabby. “Yeah, Gab, just kick back. We’ll help get supper ready. You look beat,” she said nervously.

“Tell Mom I’m sorry. I’ll try to eat anyway. Later,” Gabby said in a weak voice. She knew this was the highlight of her mom’s month, cooking for them and having them all eat together. Mom would be upset if Gabby didn’t eat. She was always pushing food on all of them, saying they were too thin; as if she had room to talk.

“No, Gabby. Really... it’s fine. You just close your eyes and rest, and if you feel like eating later, I’ll heat a plate up for you,” Nick answered. Gabby saw his eyes flick over to Olivia, then to Emma.