Page 5 of Around the Bend

Addison stepped forward, placed her arms on Catherine’s shoulders, and pulled her close. What Jess wouldn’t have given at that moment to be the one comforting her daughter.

“We sent Spencer to lunch,” Addison said giving Jess a knowing look. “I had William help me get these guys up here, but, unfortunately, he’s right—they won’t let us stay very long.”

Jess swallowed.

“We made these for you, Mommy,” Catherine said thrusting a stack of papers at her. Jess attempted to pick them up, but her hands weren’t cooperating. All at once, it was as though her arms were made of spaghetti. There seemed to be a disconnection from what Jessica wanted to happen and what was actually happening. William took the papers from Catherine and held them up, one by one so that Jess could take them in. Jess couldn’t help but notice the way her daughter beamed with pride as she described each drawing, and also the way that William carefully handled them, as though he were handling priceless pieces fit for a gallery. She took it all in, realizing then just how much she’d missed this. She missed her kids. She missed her husband, her family, and her friends. She missed the little things that made up the whole of her life. She missed the thing that only a few weeks prior she’d so easily taken for granted.

Jonathan stepped forward interrupting her thoughts. He laid a notebook on top of her stomach. “I wrote this for you… I mean, I know you can’t read it now… but maybe whenever we get to come back, I can read it to you.” Jess looked into her son’s big, bright eyes and found herself lost in them. Recently, he’d seemed so grown up, hell bent on proving that he no longer needed her. But looking at him now with so much unspoken anxiety written across his face, she knew better.

She smiled at her children, back at Addison, and finally at William, and she understood then that she had to do her very best to get back in the saddle and get home to them as soon as possible.

Jess wanted to tell them that, to reassure them that everything was going to be okay and that she was grateful for second chances to get it right. But, in that moment, a simple thank you was all she could manage.

Several days following the surgery, Jessica was transferred to an inpatient rehabilitation hospital where she had been assured they were more equipped to handle the rehabilitation process. She had hoped to go home to recover, but her doctors, and especially her husband, insisted the rehabilitation hospital was a more logical alternative. Jess still wasn’t able to sit upright for long periods of time due to a broken clavicle and broken ribs.

She had not been out of bed, or even able to use the restroom on her own since the accident. But the doctors and therapists assured her if she worked really hard, it was likely she could go home before Christmas. This was the only reason Jess had agreed to continue to take the pain meds despite the fact that they made her feel so out of it. The drugs took away the pain, sure, but they dulled other things, namely her senses. She was forgetful and foggy. She was either on top of the world or at rock bottom. They numbed the pain, but they also numbed her. But without the meds, the world was a less colorful, quieter place.

The children visited almost daily with their nanny, and those visits were always the highlight of Jess’s day. It was ironic, sad, and admittedly, a little funny how much Jessica’s relationship with her children had changed since the accident.

Her family had always had help, but even still, she found herself so immersed in the nitty-gritty stuff, the day in and day out incessant decision making that life with children brings, she had a different perspective now that her sole focus had become herself and her recovery. She found joy in her kids again. She enjoyed hearing about their lives and their thoughts. Instead of the busy, rushed pace they all knew so well before the accident, now there seemed to be nothing but time. There was nowhere for her to go, and nothing to do, except the long, arduous process of learning to walk again, all the while, each step bringing her closer to the person she had once been. On one hand, she wanted to get back to being that girl. But there was also a part of her who wondered if the girl that she had been was truly as happy as nostalgia made her out to be—and whether now, in hindsight, if she wanted to go back to being that girl at all.

The therapist eyed her. “I think it’s time, Jessica.”

Her head pounded. Though this was their second, possibly third session, she sized the woman up as though she were seeing her for the first time. The therapist (this one for her mind, which they insisted was just as necessary as the others, much to her annoyance) was well dressed, short, and trim. Not exactly pretty, but not entirely unattractive either.

“Well, I disagree.”

The woman, whose name Jess had again forgotten (which, among other things, she blamed on the pain meds) jotted something down on the tablet in her lap and then met her gaze head on. “When do you think a good time would be then?”

Jessica considered the question for a moment. “When I can walk,” was the answer she offered up, although ‘how about never’ was what she

really wanted to say.

“And why is that?”

Jess rubbed her temples. “Um… look Miss…”

“Mason.”

“Right. Miss…. Mason. As you can probably see, I’m not feeling well, and I’d really rather not discuss any of this with you today, if it’s all the same to you.”

“This is a part of your recovery, Jessica. You know that counseling is a part of the deal here. And, as you probably know, the injuries you’ve sustained are not only physical in nature. Unless you’re superwoman, and let’s face it, none of us are, this has to have taken quite a toll on you.”

Jess stared blankly until the woman shifted in her seat. “How are the children, Mrs. Clemens?”

Jess cocked her head. “My children are fine.”

“That’s great.” The woman jotted something else down on her notepad. “I see them here occasionally. And I’m glad to hear they visit so often. It’s good for all of you.”

How would you know what’s good for any of us? You don’t know me. You don’t know my family, Jess wanted to shout and might have had her head not felt so foggy.

“Miss…” Jessica blanked again before composing herself... “I really am very tired, and I have a full afternoon of actual therapy ahead of me, so if you’ll just excuse yourself—seeing that I’m unable to show you out since I’m stuck in this chair and all, well, I would really appreciate it.”

“Mason. It’s Ms. Mason. And no, I’m sorry, but I will not... excuse myself.” The woman glanced at her watch and then back at Jessica. “We have exactly forty-seven minutes left in our session. And I have a job that I’m obligated to do during those forty-seven minutes. So, if it’s all the same to you, I will just sit right here.”

Jessica tried to wipe the stunned look off her face, but was likely unsuccessful. For the first time in as long as she could remember, someone had actually told her no.

Jess stared at her reflection in the mirror, scarcely recognizing the person staring back at her. Is this what Ms. Mason wanted? OK. Fine, she thought.

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