Magic in Our Hearts (8 page)

“Yes, she has.”

“Where are some clean clothes for her to wear?”

“In the credenza over there are sweats and tee shirts, along with underwear.” Taylor slowly went over and rummaged through the drawers, pulling out sweats, a shirt, and clean panties. She approached the bathroom door with trepidation, knowing how angry Brett was. She knocked softly on the door.

“What!”

“Brett, I have some clean clothes for you.” The door was ripped open and, before Taylor could utter a word, Brett grabbed the clothes from her and slammed it in her face. Taylor backed away and turned to the two grinning women.

“Well, that went well,” Fran commented, as she turned back to the bed and finished making it. “I want to bring a vacuum in here tomorrow and do some more dusting in this room.”

“That’s a good idea, Fran. As soon as I talk to Brett about our schedule, I’ll let you know what the best time would be.”

“Good. Things are looking up around here.” Before Taylor could respond, Brett flung open the door of the bathroom and staggered out. Her gait was uneven, and she struggled to stay upright until she reached the now spotless table and leaned heavily against it. The look on her face was one of rage, shame, and frustration. Added to the alcohol she had consumed, she had a headache that would fell a tree, and she just wanted to crawl into bed.

“Brett, sit down, and Helen will bring you some hot soup for an early dinner. Then you and I are going to discuss our schedule.” 

Brett’s eyes were at half-mast, her face pasty white, and she was ready to fall flat on her face. “I, I don’t think I can eat anything. Please could you just leave me alone today? We can discuss the schedule tomorrow.” Brett knew she would feel better tomorrow when she got some more Scotch into her system. A steady dose of alcohol made life manageable. She’d been drinking every day for almost a year.

Taylor didn’t miss the sweat that beaded up on Brett’s face or the swaying of her body. “Honey, come on and let’s get you into bed for now. Helen, could you bring a bowl of soup in here?”

Brett was too tired and too drunk to do anything but let Taylor lead her to the fresh bed. Clean sheets. Brett couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a shower and climbed into a clean bed. She meekly allowed Taylor to cover her up and plump up her pillow so she was sitting up. She hadn’t even noticed that Fran and Helen left the room. Taylor’s voice was the only thing that Brett was listening to. She had gone to sleep many a night with the memories of Taylor’s sexy voice in her head.

“Taylor, here you go. Its chicken noodle with vegetables, Brett’s favorite.” Helen placed a tray on top of the table next to Brett’s bed. Taylor pulled a chair over next to the bed and placed a towel over Brett’s lap.

Brett turned, and her eyes were clouded with pain as she watched Taylor’s every move. She didn’t say a word, as Helen left the two women alone, closing the door behind her. Taylor slowly began to feed Brett while they stared at one another but remained silent. Taylor wanted so badly to slip her arms around Brett and tell her everything would be okay, but it wouldn’t be. Brett wanted more than anything to quench the small ember of hope that was igniting in her heart. She couldn’t stop her feelings for Taylor anymore than she could stop breathing. It had always been that way with Taylor. She had loved her from the very first moment she had looked into her blue eyes. Brett had been committed to her from that first evening, but fate and her own actions had been her downfall. Lack of trust had destroyed the only relationship Brett had ever wanted.

Now, Taylor was sitting within inches of her, and Brett felt she was no longer worth being with for so many reasons.

Taylor tried to keep her heart from pounding as she slowly fed Brett, her hand trembling around the spoon. She had never stopped loving the woman who looked up at her with such vulnerable eyes. It would take all of her skills as a therapist to help Brett regain her physical strength, but it would take a miracle to heal her badly wounded heart. 

It took Brett almost thirty minutes to finish her soup and by that time Brett’s eyes were again at half-mast, as she struggled to stay awake.

“Honey, I want you to close your eyes and get some sleep. You look exhausted. We’ll talk tomorrow after you get up.”

“You’re going to stay?”

“Yes, and I’m going to stay for as long as it takes.”

“Why?”

“Because you need me, and I need to be here.” Brett didn’t say another word as she slid into sleep. Her last view was of Taylor sitting next to her bed. Taylor stayed until she knew Brett was out and then bent over and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“You’re going to be okay, honey. I’m not going to let you be anything but okay.” Taylor picked up the tray of empty dishes, turned out the light and quietly left Brett’s room.

“Is she asleep?” Helen inquired as Taylor placed the tray on the kitchen counter.

“Yes, she’s exhausted and has a lot of alcohol in her system. She needs to sleep it off.”

“I’m so glad you’re here for Brett.”

“So am I Helen. She needs us to help her heal.”

“Just tell me what to do.”

“I’ll keep you advised every step of the way. Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to call it an early night.”

“You go right ahead. I’ll take care of this. Do you want a cup of tea to take with you?”

“No thanks. Goodnight Helen.”

“Goodnight Taylor.” Helen watched as Taylor wearily climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Then she turned and quickly washed the dishes and put them away. Finally, she gratefully headed for her own rooms and a good night’s sleep.

She was certainly glad that Taylor had arrived. No one had to tell Helen that Taylor loved Brett. Seeing Taylor gently feed Brett was all that Helen needed to see.

CHAPTER 8

“I’m going to kill her!” Taylor fumed, as she flew down the stairs heading towards Brett’s room. She didn’t announce herself but simply ripped the door open and strode into the room. Brett was sitting in a recliner, and a young woman was hanging over her, glasses in both their hands.

The young woman was a playmate of Brett’s who had showed up with two bottles of Scotch. Helen had tattled to Taylor who was livid. It was only nine o’clock in the morning!

“Brett, tell your friend to leave,” Taylor demanded, her voice strident.

Brett looked up at Taylor with a lazy smile while her visitor snuggled up to her. Brett wouldn’t let Taylor know that she had never done anything more than drink with this woman. “She just arrived,” responded Brett, a petulant whine in her voice.

“She’s also just leaving and taking the alcohol with her.” Taylor was furious as she grabbed the woman’s arm with one hand and the two bottles of Scotch with the other. In one continuous motion, she moved with her out of the room.

“Hey, let me go!”

“Shut up! Shame on you! If you cared about Brett you wouldn’t be bringing her alcohol and drinking with her at nine in the morning or any other hour, for that matter!” Taylor was relieved to see Fran holding the front door open. “Get out of here! I don’t want to see your face again as long as I’m here!” Fran and Helen chortled with laughter as Taylor shoved the startled young woman toward her car. Taylor was a good two sizes smaller than the unwelcome guest, but at that moment she was a giant. Taylor tossed the Scotch bottles onto the passenger’s seat and, as the woman’s car shot down the driveway, Taylor whirled back toward the front door. She wasn’t quite finished cleaning house.

She flew by Fran and Helen and startled Brett, who was sitting quietly in her chair looking out of the window. She had awakened with the draperies open for the first time in a couple of years. She hadn’t yet touched the glass of Scotch that sat next to her hand. She was just sitting and enjoying the fact that she was clean and almost sober for the first time in many months.

“As long as I’m here you will not destroy yourself with alcohol or drugs! I’m not going to watch you waste away to nothing. If you don’t care about yourself, think of your mother. She wants to spend her remaining time with a daughter who’s sober!” Taylor hissed, snatching the full glass off the table.

This was the second time Brett had witnessed Taylor’s temper, and she found it fascinating. Her blue eyes were snapping and her face was flushed. She was so beautiful. “I haven’t had anything to drink this morning.”

“I, I, okay, um, that’s good.” Taylor couldn’t help but notice the glass was still full.

Brett smiled up at Taylor, surprised that Taylor would believe her. “So I think I remember you saying you wanted to work on a schedule?”

“Yes, is now a good time?”

“Sure, I have a heavy schedule, so now would be good.” Brett’s teasing caught Taylor off guard.

Taylor sat down on a chair next to Brett. “I thought this week that I could assess where you are with your therapy, what you can and can’t do, and then we can make a plan. I’ll need your permission to talk to all of your doctors in order to find out what restrictions you might have.” Brett remained silent as Taylor spoke. She could have sat there for hours, just watching Taylor talk. She was flooded with memories of the time they had been together. Every moment was etched vividly in Brett’s mind. Even though her body craved the alcohol that kept her sane, she still felt the pull of Taylor deep in her heart. Anyway, now that she was unworthy of anyone’s love, she could only dream.

“Brett, Brett, are you listening to me?”

“Yes, you want my permission to speak with my doctors,” Brett responded, turning away from Taylor so she wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes.

Taylor looked at Brett carefully. “Brett, I need you to be an active participant in your therapy. It’s important that you believe in me and my abilities.”

“I do believe in you.” And Brett did. She had always had complete faith in Taylor. She didn’t blame Taylor for refusing to believe she hadn’t slept with other women. Brett had created her own reputation with just that type of behavior, but she had prayed that Taylor could see through all of the superficial layers to the real Brett. It made Brett angry to realize that it was too late for anyone, especially Taylor, to help her.

“Brett, I need to know what you’re taking for medication and how much alcohol you’ve been drinking.”

“I take Percocet for pain when I need it and a muscle relaxer when I start getting muscle cramps, and I drink about a half a bottle of Scotch a day just for fun,” Brett responded, already thinking about the bottle she had stashed in her armoire. At first she had been careful to hide her alcohol from her mother. Now, she really didn’t hide it from anyone. What would it matter that she was drinking herself to death? What did she have to live for? Her mother was being consumed by cancer and she had destroyed her body. She really had nothing at all to make her want to go on.

Taylor waited for Brett to continue. She was surprised that Brett was being so open. “I’ve been drinking every day for over two years. I’ve made it one of my many talents,” she replied with a small bow.

Taylor winced at the self-deprecating humor. She reached out and placed her hand on Brett’s arm in a comforting gesture. “I’m going to call your doctor to get some help to deal with your drinking. You’re going to go through some serious withdrawal.”

Brett was startled by Taylor’s touch. Her hand felt hot against her skin. “I know.”

“I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Brett looked up into blue eyes that promised so much, and she lost her heart again to the woman who had haunted her for so many years. But she knew in her heart that she couldn’t stop drinking for anyone. It was far too late. “Thank you.”

CHAPTER 9

By the end of the day Brett had consumed almost half a bottle of Scotch before Taylor found her lying on the floor of her room in a complete stupor. Panicked, Taylor called Brett’s family doctor who arrived within an hour.

“She has serious alcohol poisoning along with so many drugs in her system. If I didn’t know better, I might think Brett might have been trying to kill herself.” The older doctor spoke seriously to Taylor and Brett’s mother. Taylor had called Mrs. Camden immediately after calling the doctor, and she had arrived twenty minutes later.

“Oh God! I was afraid of this,” Roselin cried as she heard the words that she had been dreading for almost a year. Roselin suspected her daughter was suicidal.

“I pushed her too hard.” Taylor’s voice was full of shame. “She didn’t want me here and I pushed her.”

“It’s not you, Taylor. Brett has been on this path for over a year.” Roselin reached out and clasped Taylor’s hand. “What can we do, doctor?”

“I suggest we put her in a clinic where she can get help and get all the alcohol and drugs out of her system.”

“Is she conscious?”

“Barely.”

“The two women followed the doctor into Brett’s room. Brett lay quietly in her bed, an IV taped to her arm. Her face was pale, her eyes sunken as she watched them approach.

“Brett, the doctor is suggesting that you go to a clinic for some help getting the alcohol and drugs out of your system.”

“No!” 

“But, Brett …”

“Mother, I know you just want to help me, but I won’t go.”

“Honey, I need you to try and get better.”

“Why, Mother? What’s the point?”

“You’re a young woman with a long life ahead of you.”

“Yeah, with this ruined body!”

Taylor had heard enough. “Your body isn’t ruined! It’s your attitude that’s causing the biggest problems. The Brett I knew would fight to get back on her feet.”

“That Brett died on a ski slope.” Brett turned away from them.

“Honey, you promised me you would try once more for me.” Roselin pleaded with her terribly wounded child, knowing she wouldn’t be able to deny her.

Brett turned to look at her mother, naked anguish on her face. She loved her, and no one else in the world could exact promises from her. She sighed and then spoke with resignation. “I will try once more for you.” Taylor released her breath slowly as she fought to keep silent. She knew this was Brett’s last chance to heal her wounded soul. She had to get through to her.