Page 43 of Undoing

“Aunt Wills? She calls you Aunt Wills? Who is she? Why did she look so sad? What is going on, Aunt Wills?”

Dr. Lima cleared her throat, and Willamena sighed. Rebecca was getting worked up. That certainly wasn’t Willamena’s intention, but obviously, bringing Cass in here so soon was a mistake for both Cass and Rebecca.

“I know you have questions, Rebecca, but…”

“No buts. I have this… sick feeling in my stomach.” It’s more like my heart, Rebecca thought silently. “That I’m missing something important.”

Willamena saw the same dull sadness in Rebecca’s eyes that she saw in Cass’s. Their souls miss each other. It was unorthodox for a psychiatrist to believe, but Willamena did nonetheless. She glanced at Dr. Lima and received a slight nod. Willamena knew she’d have to tread carefully, so she would tell Rebecca the bare minimum until she thought Rebecca could handle more.

“Okay, sweet girl. We’re going to make a deal, and I don’t want you to argue with me. We will discuss everything you need to know, but we do it my way. You have to promise you won’t jeopardize your recovery by getting upset if I do what I think is best for you. That includes not overwhelming you with an abundance of information all at once. Our first priority is your health. Can you agree to that?”

Rebecca stared into Aunt Wills’s kind eyes. She saw the compassion she always saw there. But there was something else. Sadness? Fear? A mixture of both?

“I’ll do my best.” Rebecca held her hand up to stop Aunt Wills’s protests. “That’s all I can promise, Aunt Wills.”

Willamena nodded, pulling a chair up beside Rebecca’s bed.

“I’m going to excuse myself,” Dr. Lima announced, reminding them she was there. “Rebecca has expressed the desire to take care of her hygiene needs. Are you able to assist her, Dr. Woodrow, or shall I call in an orderly to help?”

Willamena knew Rebecca wouldn’t want a stranger helping her. “I can do it. Thank you, Dr. Lima.”

“Rebecca, to address your previous question before I leave, I want to keep you overnight to monitor your progress. If all goes well, we will review your at-home care procedures and medications before discharging you.” With a curt nod, Dr. Lima left the room.

“She’s… direct,” Rebecca said after a minute.

“Yes, she is. But she’s also very good at what she does.”

Rebecca lifted her arm — the one she could remember being limp at her side when Samantha…. “I’d say so. My arm doesn’t even hurt. Whatever these meds are, they’re working. I have a headache, but the rest of me feels… fine.”

Willamena took Rebecca’s hand, clasping it between both of hers. “Rebecca, you’re not here because of Samantha.” Ugh, it made her sick to her stomach saying that name. She wished with every ounce of her being that Rebecca had forgotten this part of her life and not the part when she was finally happy.

Rebecca’s face was the picture of confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“I know.” Willamena rubbed the back of Rebecca’s hand as she did when she was little and had nightmares about her parents’ death. “I’ve been trying to think of an easy way of saying this, but nothing about this is easy.”

“Aunt Wills, please.” Rebecca hated this feeling- the unknown. She’d spent years with Samantha fearing the unknown, and she didn’t want to live that way any longer.

Willamena closed her eyes briefly, asking Gwennie for the right words. Oh, her sister was good at things like this. But, even being a psychiatrist, when it came to her family, Willamena faltered with hard news.

“You’re here because you had a tumor. A brain tumor,” Willamena clarified. “You had surgery to remove it, and…”

None of this made sense to Rebecca, and Aunt Wills’s stalling was not helping. “And?”

“There’s been a complication with your memory, Rebecca. You have amnesia.”

Pain seared through Rebecca’s head, and she ripped her hand away from Willamena, pressing the heels of both hands to her temples. She whimpered as the pain continued.

Willamena stood abruptly, reaching for the call button.

“Don’t!” Rebecca ordered. “Just give me a minute.” She breathed in, holding it for ten seconds. She could hear a calming voice in her head counting to ten, but she didn’t know whose voice it was. For some unknown reason, that bothered Rebecca. “Amnesia,” she repeated when the pain became bearable.

“Yes.” Willamena still had the call button in her hand, her thumb poised to push it if Rebecca’s pain came back. “That’s enough information for now…”

“Cass?” Rebecca asked softly. “I should know her?” Tears pooled in Rebecca’s eyes when Cass’s face popped into her memory.

Willamena hesitated. “Yes.”

This time the pain wasn’t in Rebecca’s head. Her heart felt… empty. No, that wasn’t the word. Lost.

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