Undertow (21 page)

“So, come on. Tell me what really happened, Issa.” Kelly reached across the table to take her hand, serious now.

“To my mind, you mean? How I lost it?”

Kelly nodded and her cheeks turned pink.

“Stress, mostly. At least that’s what they said. They say stress triggered something in my brain and kind of took over.”

“That’s
it
? Stress?
Everybody
gets stressed out.” She didn’t add,
but they don’t go crazy.

“Yeah, I know, right? I guess I’m just lucky, born messed up or something. Weak constitution and all that.”

Kelly snorted. “Or maybe what you went through as a kid, more likely.”

Don’t go there,
she thought
.
“They said it’s biological. Luck of the genetic dice. Plus everything else made it worse.”

“Way to hit the jackpot, Issa. Here’s hoping for better karma next life around.” Kelly grinned and raised the milkshake in a toast. Then she tightened her grip on Marissa’s hand and turned intense again. “Do you remember any of it? All that stuff you yakked about at Christmas?”

Marissa’s cheeks burned and she looked away.

“And? What’s it like? Does it all still feel real to you? Now that you’re . . . okay?”

“Yeah. It’s weird, though. Like watching myself in a movie, or maybe more like a dream. When I’m there, inside the dream, it’s all totally real. It’s like I’m waking up now from the most vivid dream ever.” She picked up Kelly’s shake and dragged on the straw. “I know it’s not real, that none of it ever really happened, but I only know that because I’m awake now. It still feels so real when I close my eyes.”

Kelly shuddered. “That’s so scary. How horrible.” Then, like the thought just occurred to her, she blurted out, “Will it happen again?”

It
hadn’t
just occurred to Marissa, but she tried to keep it out of the forefront of her consciousness as much as possible. Now, panic surged up and she wrestled it down. Looking into Kelly’s eyes like there was a life-line to grab, she said, “I don’t know, Kel. I hope not.”

“I’m so sorry.” Kelly reached out and took her other hand. “Of course it won’t happen again. I’ll be there—I’ll make sure you don’t lose it again.”

They sat for a few minutes before Kelly broke the silence. “So, when do you have to go back to school?”

Happy to change subjects, Marissa said, “Probably after spring break. They want me to take a few weeks off and get more stable before I add any more stress.”

“Are they kidding?” Kelly widened her eyes and acted shocked. “Don’t they have
any
idea how stressful living with
Shannon
will be?”

Marissa laughed. “I know, right? Maybe it’s more of a trial by fire thing. If I can cut it at Mom’s, for sure I can survive when I’m back at school.”

“So how’s Jim dealing?”

Jim
. Just hearing his name buoyed her. “He sent me flowers for Valentine’s Day. Said he’ll be up this weekend to bring me some clothes, so I won’t have to live for the next five weeks wearing the two pairs of jeans Mom just sprung for.”

“Wow. Sounds like a keeper.” Kelly winked at her.

“What’s up with Johnny lately?” She acted indifferent, but curiosity was eating at her. Why hadn’t Kelly mentioned the next King-of-the-world yet?
She’d gushed about him for months.

“Nothing.” Kelly looked away, but Marissa saw the tears forming in her eyes.

“Uh-oh, Kels, what happened? I thought you two were the sure thing, rock solid . . .”

“Yeah, well, not since he became a big shot politician wannabe. Gave me the brush-off.” She crumpled up her wrapper and placed it on the tray. “Who cares? He’s just a dude, right?”

She shook her head. “You don’t deserve that. What a jerk.”

“Yeah, well. Most of them are. I mean, seriously. How many decent guys have you met?”

Good point,
she thought
. Drake? Definitely a jerk. Her dad? Maybe a half-jerk. Gilbert?
She shivered.
Total jerk. One hundred and eighty percent jerk. Worse than that even. Pure evil.
“Just Jim.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m sorry. You’ll find somebody great, too. I just know it.”

Kelly flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Of course I will.” She giggled. “Hey. Did Jim happen to have a brother? I could dig a dude with cute curls.”

Marissa laughed. “I wish you lived in Corvallis. I missed you last fall.”

“Don’t worry. I’m definitely going to keep better tabs on you from now on. You won’t be able to hide from me again. What else are friends for?”

Thirty

“H
ow did your journaling go?” Dr. Leopold pointed to her temple. “Did you discover anything interesting up here?” Her forefinger dropped to her chest, covered in cream silk, the perfect color to accentuate her red hair and pale skin. “Or in here? Sometimes the heart knows much more than the head,” she said with a conspiratorial wink.

It was hard not to stare at her, this woman with the face and figure of a model. Marissa wished she had such a perfect body, and the perfect life to match. The envy was hard to sustain; green eyes considered her with gentle interest, beckoning her to share her most private thoughts. “I did write some,” Marissa said. “It felt good, actually. Kind of hard at first, though.”

“And afterward?”

“Relief, sort of. Like I’d been lugging around a backpack full of bricks and finally took it off.”

“That does sound like a relief.” The psychologist paused and shifted her eyes to admire the painting on her wall, of a girl lying in a meadow covered in tiny white flowers. “I wonder what heaviness you have been carrying.”

“Just life, I guess.”

Dr. Leopold looked directly at her now and remained silent. Several minutes passed while Marissa stared blindly at the wall, rubbing her hands together. When the therapist still didn’t speak, she added, “A lot of stuff. My old boyfriend. My mom and dad.”

“Yes. You’ve experienced many challenges, haven’t you?”

Marissa nodded and glanced over briefly to check whether the psychologist was still watching her. The gaze she met was more reassuring than threatening.

“And what emotions arose in you as you wrote?”

“Kind of a weird mix. A lot of anger, definitely. But also . . . sadness. Or maybe just feeling hurt. And helpless.” She sighed.

“That
is
a lot of emotion. It must have been hard to keep writing.”

Shaking her head, she said, “No. Once I started, it’s like I couldn’t stop, even when it got hard. My hand cramped up, but I kept writing.”

Dr. Leopold nodded her approval. “Excellent. That’s a very good sign. You are a tough, resilient young woman.”

“Yeah. I guess I am. I have to be, right? To survive.”

“So tell me, Marissa, about surviving. What has made you feel so helpless, so hurt, so angry?”

Marissa locked her hands together in her lap.
Now
, a voice inside urged, one she had only just discovered, which had started to speak to her at last.
It’s time. No more secrets
. She bit her bottom lip hard and trained her eyes on her knees. “When I was eleven,” she began, “my uncle came to live with us. I think he lost his job or something.”

“This uncle . . . was he your mother’s brother, or your father’s?”

She shivered involuntarily. “Dad’s brother. Gilbert.”

Forty minutes later, the tissue box on the side table was empty and Marissa felt like a towel someone used to mop up a spill then wrung out.

“Marissa. Our time’s nearly over.” Dr. Leopold’s voice was gentle. “That must have been hard for you to share. You should be proud of yourself for being so strong. You were betrayed and all alone back then, but you aren’t alone anymore.” She stood and held her hand out. “We’ll meet again next week. Keep journaling, and if you start feeling overwhelmed at all, call me.”

Marissa sat in the driver’s seat, drained. The vision of Gilbert’s face was stuck in her mind, a face which had haunted her nightmares since sixth grade.

She feels his sandpapery hands stroking her, smells the whiskey on his breath, and recoils from its heat against her ear. “Don’t tell anyone, Mari, Mari, quite contrary. This is our little secret, okay?”

The weight of his thick body, all legs and arms, is like a straightjacket that renders his prey immobile. His fingers slide underneath her nightgown, groping at her. Disgust sweeps through her like the enormous waves of the ocean pounding on the shore. Marissa gasps as his hand works its way down. She trembles, about to vomit, and the beast chuckles. “That’s a good little girl. Shhh . . .”

After he leaves, she lies there frozen and mute.

Marissa focused her eyes on the steering wheel and forced her attention back to the space around her. Starting the car, she floored the gas pedal and the engine screamed in answer.

It’s over now,
she told herself
.
He couldn’t hurt her anymore.

“Miss me yet?”

Jim’s voice was like balm on her nerves.
More than you could ever believe
, she wanted to say. “Maybe just a little,” she joked. “So, when are you coming up?”

“Friday night. Can your mom put me up?” His eagerness was practically palpable through the phone. Marissa had a quick visual of him shivering like an excited puppy.

“Sure. She owes me. But . . . you’ll have to sleep on the sofa. Wouldn’t want to offend her Victorian sensibilities.”

“Great. Friday night it is, then.” Dropping his voice an octave in mock seriousness, he said, “If I can fit it all into the car, that is. You must have more clothes than God.”

“Well, naturally. God didn’t wear clothes, did He?”

“Goddess, then. The Goddess surely has an enormous wardrobe. Not as huge as yours, though.” He laughed.

She felt her cheeks flush. “Just grab some jeans and T-shirts,” she said. “It’s not like I plan to rock my prom dress while I’m killing time at my mom’s.”

“What about panties? Won’t you need any of those?”

“Just my big girl panties.” She laughed. “You can keep all the rest there.”

“Affirmative. You
are
planning to come back, right? Or shall I hold your undies hostage?” Underneath his words, she detected a strain of anxiety.

 “You do play hardball, don’t you?”

“I’ll play any kind of ball you want, baby.”

She hesitated for a minute before leaping. “If you really want me to come back, I’ll be there tomorrow. If they’ll let me.” She chewed her bottom lip and counted the seconds.

His reply wasn’t long in coming. “Oh baby, baby! Are you kidding me?” The words rushed out. “Yes, I want you to come back! I just wondered if maybe . . . it was me . . . that drove you over the edge.”