Because I loved Jezzie with
all my heart, I forced aside the paralyzing fear that’d
continued to
challenge the small amount of confidence I’d managed to
build over the past
year.
It was all due to Bev’s disturbing call. It sent me
back
into the darkness I’d struggled to put behind me.
Since Aaron’s death, I’d worked hard to overcome the
agoraphobia that my shrink told me was just a form of
misdirected grief.
Leaving D.C. and all the memories of Aaron’s tragic
murder helped in the
beginning.
I’d packed up everything that reminded me of the good
things I loved about my husband and left the bad.
My first stop had been Manhattan. I’d wanted
to be close to my
big sister, with good cause. Bev had been more of a
mother to me than our
own. She’d fussed over me like a hen protecting her
chick. So going home to
the comfort of my second mother seemed as natural as
breathing. I thought
having family close would help me deal with the
excruciating loneliness
nothing could have prepared me for.
Watching Bev and Ed’s normal, day-to-day life only
served as an agonizing reminder of all the things I’d
never have again.
Although both my marriage and my life with Aaron hadn’t
been anything close
to normal.
I’d lasted just shy of six months in New York. Then I’d
packed up everything
I owned, along with Jezzie,
and moved south
again.
My small, two-bedroom beach house had come fully
furnished. I’d turned the smallest bedroom into a work
area where I played
at designing my own line of clothes. Big dreams.
Different dreams. Safe
dreams.
All the rooms of my new home were small and cozy
because
small spaces made me feel safe.
For almost a year now, I’d managed to get myself
dressed, bravely walk out my front door, and pretend to
function normally. Jezzie was the only one close
enough to me to know what
a complete phony I’d become.
Sometimes, in the dark, the memories of that night
would
slip into my dreams, unwelcome. No matter how hard I
fought to keep them
away during the daylight hours, at night, while
sleeping and vulnerable,
they came for me.
So you see, I knew. Long before Bev’s call. I knew
something
was coming. Something from my past would find me again.
It was inevitable.
All that evil had to leave its mark somewhere.
Jezzie’s wet nose nuzzled
my
leg. She stared up at me with those huge baleful eyes.
Jezzie’s
way of reminding me she’d been waiting very patiently
while I had my
meltdown. It was now time to come back to the real
world.
I had no idea how long I’d been sitting curled up
into a
tiny ball on my couch. As if by doing so, I could
somehow make myself invisible.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m okay. Really, I am. Don’t
worry.”
The dog crawled onto my lap and curled into her
favorite spot in the crook
of my arm.
Some days, Jezzie was the
only
thing keeping me from losing it.
I got to my feet, grabbed Jezzie’s
leash from its drawer, snapped it into place, and
searched for my house
key, which was right where I’d left it earlier.
Because I loved Jessie and owed her so much more
than I
could ever repay, I stepped out into the cold world
once more instead of
retreating into that little spot in my closet where I
spent far too much
time during those first few months, hiding in a cramped
corner where I felt
safe.
The storm outside had passed. The one within me would
never end.
The waters of the Gulf of
Mexico
churned with renewed power, thrashing wave after wave
against the beach and
belching up the contents of the ocean’s floor.
Jezzie yelped as if her
tiny
voice could somehow still the crashing waters.
“It’s okay, girl. It’ll settle down in time.” If only
that were true of my own restlessness. I doubted
there’d ever be a time
when I could say with confidence I’d found stillness in
my soul.
Somehow, I managed to corral Jezzie
after only a short romp down the beachfront. She loved
me, but she loved
being outside as well and she hated having to leave her
fun.
“This weekend we’ll spend as much time as you like
out
here, I promise.” Brave words. I’d have Bev here with
me as a buffer
against the phobia that lurked beneath my surface.
Even knowing the house was secure, it was still hard
to
walk into an empty place. Aaron’s murder had taught me
you never knew what
evil might be waiting for you. He’d gone into an empty
building and
confronted his worst nightmare.
“Don’t think of that now.” Something dark and
unwelcome
was trying to reach out to me, but I couldn’t open that
door. Couldn’t let
that nightmare back in.
It took a couple of deep breaths before I was able to
close that door. And all the while Jezzie stood
patiently waiting for me to unhook her leash.
“I’m sorry, baby.” I ruffled her ears then gave her
new
chew toy a squeeze, instantly capturing her attention.
With Jezzie happily doing
battle with the squeaky shoe, I went about my nightly
routine of securing
locks and windows. I’d check them once, then one more
time so that I could
sleep at night.
Tonight, for reasons I couldn’t begin to explain to
myself, I deviated slightly from the routine by pushing
aside the thick
drapes covering my living room window. The window faced
out onto my quiet
street. It was then that I spotted it. A car parked
across the street,
lights off. I quickly released the drape and ducked out
of the line of
sight, a learned trick from the past, as the world
around me spun out of
control. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. I dropped
to my knees on the
floor and tried to force air into my lungs.
Vaguely I was aware of things taking place around
me. Jezzie’s bark. Her wet nose nudging
at my arm. A car
engine starting.
When I could breathe again over the pounding in my
chest, it was a battle to keep from losing my
threadbare hold on realty. I
couldn’t fall apart. Not now. Not with Jezzie
depending on me.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m okay,” I managed to say with
some
amount of normality for Jezzie’s sake.
I scooped my baby into my arms and slowly got to my
feet, then forced myself to glance out the window,
being careful to keep
out of the line of sight of anyone looking in. The
street was now empty.
The car gone. Had it even been there or was it just
another part of my
delusion?
Even after I assured myself everything was secured, I
still couldn’t shake the feeling that had been tailing
me for hours. Since
Bev’s call. If I were being honest, since Aaron’s death.
Unfinished business, it screamed. Unfinished
business.