30. I’ll Save Myself This Time

I’ll Save Myself This Time

M ara

Hope is a wonderful, terrible thing.

I had it.

Hope.

When I thought the day would get better when he got home from work.

When I couldn't wait for the weekend because he’d be home.

When I believed if we just fixed the flaws in our relationship I’d be happier,

I have it no longer.

Because it won’t be better when he gets home from work.

It won’t be better on the weekend when he’s here.

It won’t be better if we work out the flaws in our relationship, even if he wanted to.

It will never be better because the problem is alive, and it lives in me.

It is me.

And from myself there is no escape.

No escape from the endless loop of angst-filled days and the despair that fills the space where hope once existed.

And I don’t know if I want to live like this.

“Hello?”

Monday morning, nine o’clock, my cell didn’t normally ring at this hour. The screen displayed ‘private caller.’ Anyone who called me well knew I homeschooled Olivia in the mornings and waited until later to call. Barring an emergency. Or something so funny it couldn’t wait in the case of Bex and Willa, but those two always got special compensation in my life. It could be the doctor calling for Olivia, or me.

“Mara,” my mother said, her voice shaky. I hadn’t spoken to her since last Wednesday, a long time for us to go without chatting.

“Mom? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just have a doctor’s appointment,” she said, sniffing, “and I’m kind of worried about it. It’s for my heart. ”

“There’s something wrong with your heart? When’s the appointment?” I could feel my own heart kick into high gear. I stood and paced back and forth while she spoke.

“It’s this afternoon. Three o’clock.” She sniffed again. “Do you think you could take me?”

“Uh…” I thought about the mental gymnastics I’d have to go through with Olivia to ready her for a change in plans, the phone calls I’d have to make to see who could step in with her today, and the online meeting with my publisher I’d have to reschedule. “Sure. I can do that I think. I just have to make sure Olivia is covered.”

“She can come with us if you can’t find a babysitter. We can go out for lunch afterwards.”

“No, Mom, she can’t.”

Don’t get irritated, I silently coached myself, she’s completely disengaged, doesn’t have a single clue about your life. You know this. Just get off the phone so you can make arrangements.

“I’ll call you back in a few minutes to let you know for sure.”

I thought through my options. Willa and Bex were both working at the animal shelter that afternoon, so Olivia could go with them, but it wasn’t her usual day to go with Bex and Willa, and I knew Willa had things she had to do today.

I decided to try Sophie. She taught for twenty years before getting her masters in curriculum development. She worked from home a great deal of the time. She might be home today. Olivia loved their puppy, Dean and Sophie’s children were grown and away at college, and Sophie enjoyed Olivia. Having been parents for a long time, not much fazed them. Olivia sensed that so she was relaxed, too. I loved being with them myself.

As I hoped, Sophie assured me she’d be delighted to take her. This meant I needed to add an hour to my mom’s pick-up time so I could get Olivia to Sophie’s, transition her into their house, and get back to pick up my mom in Bayview Village in time to drive her to her appointment in Milltown. This moved our time of departure to quarter after one. Which meant lunch had to be over by twelve thirty so Olivia would not feel rushed and be stressed about going out.

I called my mom back and she thanked me, told me how relieved she felt now that I could take her. My nerves still prickled with irritation, which I felt bad about, but at least I was doing something good for my mom.

Now to tackle Olivia.

The morning unfolded as per usual, but my frame of mind had shifted into anxious overdrive. I didn’t like having changes in plans foisted upon me at the last minute, and to top it off, I had to drive into the city for this appointment. I usually advised my mom to take a cab as neither of us liked to drive in the city. She invariably found someone to take her, but I could understand how she’d want me in this case. I breathed through my anxiety.

By the time I got to my mom’s house, I was already running fifteen minutes late, which was my own fault because I filled Sophie’s ear with my anxiety and put off leaving her comforting presence until the last minute.

At least my mother was already waiting outside her door. She looked good, happy to see me, I was frazzled as shit. Driving there, practicing my breathing, I sucked all the oxygen out of the car. I opened the window.

“Mara, dear, close the window, it’ll mess my hair, and it’s far too damp out today anyway,” Bea complained, as she hoisted herself into the car and dropped her bags at her feet. “Can we drive through Tim Horton’s to get a coffee? I had a busy morning; I didn’t get a second cup.”

“We’re already late, Mom, maybe there’ll be a coffee shop at the hospital.”

“I hate hospital coffee; they couldn’t brew a proper cup of coffee if their lives depended on it.”

“If it makes you feel better, I haven’t had any today.”

“You’ve always had problems with time management, Mara. You need to work on that. Schedules, structure, discipline, and no procrastinating. You have always been a great procrastinator.”

Don’t get irritated. She might have a heart condition. No point in doing a good deed if you’re going to be resentful.

She continued. “Where’s Olivia? She really needs to be more exposed to the outside world, she must learn to cope. I know this is hard, we all want to do everything we can for our children, but she has to learn that the world does not revolve around her! If you didn’t have to drop her off somewhere, you would have had time for a coffee. You need to think of yourself sometimes too!”

I needed an oxygen mask, the kind that falls from the ceiling when the cabin loses air pressure. I would for damn sure be putting mine on first. I’d boot her off the plane mid-flight at this rate.

Good deed, deep breath, no resentment.

Radical Acceptance, you will never have the mother you want or deserve. She is what she is. I gave myself great advice, unfortunately, I didn’t listen.

“Well, if I wasn’t taking you to your important appointment, I wouldn’t have had to drive Olivia, but I am taking you, because I want to do what’s best for you, and obviously I want to do what’s best for Olivia, so, no coffee for me.” I knew better than to engage with her, but she pushed my buttons.

She sniffed. “No need to get huffy. If you didn’t want to do it, I could have taken a cab. No skin off my nose.”

“I want to do it, just don’t criticize me for how I manage a change of plans when it’s for your benefit.”

“Some people are too selfish to do these things, I’m so blessed to have a daughter who’s not.”

I sighed. “Okay Mom, you know I don’t like driving in the city, so I need you to be quiet and not talk to me now. ”

“I don’t know why you insisted on driving then, I could have driven myself, but I’ll be quiet. I thought we’d have a little visit, but I guess not.”

I re-entered The Twilight Zone. As usual with my mother, I questioned my own take on reality. One day I’d record our conversations, just to prove my sanity to myself. I responded the only way I could think of to get the quiet I desperately needed.

“After. We’ll visit after.”

I should have focused on my DBT skills. I should have recited my cue cards or repeated my Dory mantra. I should have been putting myself through my paces, but the possibility of my mother having a serious heart condition had thrown me off, and I did none of those things.

I thanked God that I had the excuse of needing to concentrate on the driving because I was already so close to detonating, the tiniest spark would set off the explosion. That half hour of silence gave me the space necessary to calm myself.

I focused on maneuvering through the traffic and squinting past the afternoon sunlight piercing the front window to read the street signs.

Damp, my ass. You’d be hard pressed to find a more perfect day.

I listened to the GPS that I didn’t technically need but it gave me an extra bit of confidence. Finally, we arrived, and I remembered that this hospital had excellent parking at least. It’s one thing driving somewhere in the city, something else entirely trying to find parking. I pulled into the first spot I found.

“Oh, Mara, I forgot to ask, but could you drop me off at the entrance? I really want to see if I can get a coffee before my appointment.”

“Uh,” breathe Mara, just breathe, “no.”

She sniffed.

She huffed out of the car. “I hope we’re not too late to get a coffee. I’ll get you one, too. Let’s hurry. We’re so far from the entrance. Do you park this far away to get some exercise?”

“Did you see any other spots, Mom?”

“I don’t mean this time, Mara. I read an article on weight loss, and one of the suggestions was to park far away to force yourself to walk. I thought I’d pass it on to you when I’m done reading it.” She smiled brightly. “I’m always thinking of you, sweetheart, never far from my thoughts and prayers, and always in my heart.”

Smiling tightly, I thought to myself, that at the very least if I ended up needing a respiratory therapist, I was in the right place. Maybe worry over her appointment made her extra acerbic today. It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, I soothed myself, in two short hours you’ll be back home, safe.

In the waiting room we sat side-by-side in hard, plastic chairs. I wondered if they were purposefully made to be uncomfortable so people would stand or walk instead of being sedentary .

My mom joked with the other patients who were waiting in the room, working the room like a pro. She drew attention like honey drew bees.

I sat and stared unseeing at the screen of my cell phone, swiping the display screens forward and back, over and over, my knee bouncing like a piston.

By the time the nurse called her to go back for her appointment she was calm, but I was a bag of nerves. I jumped up when she did. She hesitated to follow the nurse and turned to me.

“Are you coming in with me?”

I looked at her in surprise. “Of course, that’s why I’m here.”

“You don’t need to.”

“It’s okay, Mom.” I nodded to the nurse and lightly pushed her forward. “You asked me to come, I’m here.”

The nurse ushered us into a smaller room, a trio of the same hard chairs lining the wall, but no other patients to offer her a distraction. She prattled on about the women in her seniors’ group.

“They’re not fun, Mara, bunch of old biddies. That’s why their husbands dance with me when we have our dinner nights. There’s no dance floor, but you know me, I get some of the men to help me move the tables and we make our own dance floor…”

I nodded to indicate that I was listening, she didn’t need more than a nod to encourage her to extoll her own virtues. If she needed to talk to deal with her nerves, so be it. The least I could do was listen. I wish I had something to settle my nerves other than scrolling through all the possible outcomes of this appointment in my mind.

The doctor finally came and, not five minutes into the appointment, I began to see red. I had heard the phrase before, ‘I was so angry, I saw red’, but I never imagined it was a real phenomenon. I knew the doctor was still speaking, but I could no longer hear him. Red suffused my vision. I saw the doctor, the office, the chairs, and the white cabinets, through its violent haze. I could not look at my mother. His voice became clear once again.

“Yes, Mrs. Wells, as I told you on the phone, the test is simply routine for women your age, and it came back fine just as I expected. We order these tests for everyone at a certain age, for screening purposes, and to get a baseline reading for comparison if needed later. You need a bit of blood pressure medication, and that’s why you’re here today. It’s nothing you haven’t been on before, so we know you tolerate it well, and I’ll need to see you here every three months for a blood pressure check just like we’re doing today, simply to make sure we’re giving you the right dose.”

I stood up. Bea, for once in her life, looked appropriately alarmed.

“I’ll wait for you in the car,” I said stiffly. I turned on my heel and left, saying nothing more.

Although I’d woken up to a lot of the shit she’d pulled over the years, this stunt shocked me. I marched directly to the car, and then I waited, staring straight ahead, through the windshield, at nothing. If I were made of stronger stuff I would have told her to take a cab and gone directly home.

Half an hour later, time in which I’d spent alternately cursing her for her selfishness and cursing myself for my weakness, she came strolling into the parking lot, with a takeout cup of coffee in her hand. She got to the car and struggled to open the door with her hands full. I did not help. I stayed in my seat, eyes front.

She sat down finally. “Phew, that’s a relief to have that over with. Thanks very much for bringing me.”

“Why did you give me the impression that you might have a serious heart problem?” I bit out.

“What? What are you talking about Mara? Always had an imagination. I guess that’s why you write those cute little books.”

“You told me that you were worried about the appointment and asked if I'd take you.”

“I wasn’t worried about the appointment, I was just worried about driving in the city, you know I don’t like to drive in the city.”

“You were sniffing.”

“Allergies.” She waved her hand in dismissal. “Sometimes they hit me in the morning. Anyway, if you didn’t want to drive me, you should have said so. I could have driven myself.”

“I need quiet to drive now. ”

She responded, but I could not tell you what she said or even what language she spoke, I had retreated that deep into my head. I didn’t remember the drive home, and I remained on autopilot as I pulled into her driveway.

“Want to come in and I’ll make you a coffee?”

“No. I don’t. I don’t want a cup of coffee. I don’t want anything from you right now.”

“There is no need to take that kind of tone with me, young lady. I am still your mother, even if I don’t always want to admit it. I cannot believe you left the doctor’s office like that. Would you have preferred me to be seriously ill? Maybe you’d like it if I had a heart attack and died so you could get your inheritance quicker!”

“I have rarely asked you for anything. The few times I have asked, when things were particularly difficult for Olivia, you were busy. Shopping, playing Bingo, getting your nails done, too sick, or too tired. You always say you’re there to help me, but when the time comes, you never actually are. You have never been there for me.”

It took supreme effort to keep from yelling and keep my voice even. Rage replaced the oxygen in my blood, and it pounded through my veins. I remembered this feeling. I remembered my therapy. I remembered too late to do anything about either. In a way, it turned out to be a blessing. My rage enabled me to say what I otherwise never would.

“How dare you speak to me like that! ”

I turned my head to face her. “Hear me, I won’t repeat myself. I. Want. Nothing. From. You. Don’t call, don’t come, stay out of my life.” My voice shook, as did my hands that were still gripping the steering wheel.

“Mara, you’re very uptight. I think you need some help, sweetheart…” She looked at me with her loving concern mask on her face.

“Get out,” I gritted out between my teeth, she opened her mouth to speak again, and I screeched, “GET OUT!”

She dropped the mask. “Fine,” she hissed out, “you always were a selfish child, only thinking of yourself.”

She slammed the car door and stalked up to her porch. I didn’t look at her again, backed out of her driveway, and by the grace of God, I made it home.

Once inside I figured I’d start to feel better, but the world had gone wildly awry. When I looked around, it seemed to take the world a bit to catch up, like in a movie when the mouths are not moving in time with the audio.

Interesting.

I drifted outside of my body and watched myself take out my cell phone and dial my husband.

“Zale?” my voice sounded from far away.

“Mara?” He sounded alarmed. “Are you alright? ”

“Zale, I got in a fight with my mom.”

“I’m sorry, baby, what the fuck did she do now? Where are you? Are you driving? Where’s Olivia?” His anxiety snapped across the line.

“I’m home.” I watched, fascinated as my chest heaved in a shuddering breath. “Olivia’s at Dean’s.”

“Okay,” he breathed, relieved. “Can you just relax for a bit? Have a bath and a cup of tea, and we’ll talk when I get home?”

The sudden realization hit me that he couldn’t help me, shouldn’t have to help me, and more, he didn’t want to help me. He tolerated me. I was a huge burden, emphasis on huge. A disaster.

I ruined everything, and I would continue to ruin everything. I ruined us too, with my demands and my need for sex and my crazy jealousy. I needed to cut him loose.

“I’m too much, Zale, too much and never enough. Too much and never enough, baby. I’m so sorry for you. I’m so sorry, for you, you deserve so much better than me.”

Zale

Zale felt the blood in his veins turn to ice, her voice sounded off, flat.

“I’m coming, gorgeous, just hold on, baby. I’m coming right now. ”

“It’s okay, Zale, I don’t need you. I’ll look after myself this time,” she replied in that same, strange, flat, voice and ended the call.

He used that opportunity to call Willa, as he ran full out to his car, talking to her as he ran, telling her that Mara’s in a bad way. Fortunately, Willa was out with Rhys and Rebecca, and they were already in Rhys's truck. Rhys turned the truck around as they spoke and headed straight for Zale’s place. He asked Willa to call Dean and tell him to hang onto Olivia for the evening.

Hanging up with Willa, he immediately called Mara back, but she didn’t answer her cell. His heart hammered against his ribs.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” He pounded the steering wheel, frustration and fear colliding.

Fifteen minutes later Zale flew through the front door, throwing his wallet and keys toward the pelican and missing. He tracked the godawful keening to the family room but couldn't immediately see her. He found her on the floor between the couch and the side table, rocking with her hands wrapped in her hair, pulling it tight then releasing it, over and over, her face soaked with tears.

He rushed toward her. “Sweetheart, what’s happening…”

She screamed in fear, not expecting to see anyone, then held her hand out to hold him off. “Noooo…..” she moaned, “you’re not supposed to see this...you stay away. I’ll save myself this time. ”

He reached for her, and her eyes went wild, she screamed again and yanked viciously on her hair. His eyes widened as well; his fear reflected in the sheen of tears that coated them.

“Okay, baby, I’ll stay back.” He stepped back a step, shocked at the state of his wife. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Her beautiful hair stood out in a frizzy mess, her face tear-streaked, red, and mottled, her whole body trembled so violently he feared she was having a seizure.

“Where’s Olivia?” She asked, suddenly terrified.

“She’s with Dean, they’re going to keep her….”

Mara started shaking her head back and forth, moaning out the word no. She struggled to get up, Zale started toward her to help, and she yelled at him, her shaking hand holding him off. “No, you. No. You!”

He linked his hands behind his neck and looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath. She wriggled out of her place and started pacing, making a wide arc around him, keeping her eye on him, heading toward the front door.

She stopped and faced him, her eyes pleading. “They can’t have her Zee,” she sobbed. “I’ll be better, they can’t have her.”

“Of course, they can’t have her, my baby, of course they can’t. They’re just going to look after her for tonight, so you can relax, and we can talk. ”

Mara continued her pacing, keeping him where she could see him, sobbing, crying, talking, and struggling to take a breath.

She stopped suddenly, her hands to her chest. “I can’t breathe…”

Zale stepped forward, he had to get to her, she threw up one hand again, warning him off with her eyes, struggling to get air.

“Please let me come to you, Mara,” he pleaded, his voice torn ragged at the state she was in, falling apart right in front of him. He stepped closer.

“Stay away from me!” she shrieked, viciously pulling her own hair.

He swiped a hand across his face and felt his own tears. Infuriated with the situation, with himself for misreading it, feeling helpless, hopeless, and clueless. Looking at her in this moment, he’d do anything to reach her.

She stopped moving suddenly, facing him, but not seeing him, her words directed inwards. “I can’t calm down… I can’t calm down… I can’t calm down…”

Bex and Willa heard her shrieking from the driveway and took off running for the house, finding Mara, with her back to the front door, her hands in her hair, sobbing and chanting, “I can’t calm down…”

Lost in her despair, Mara didn’t register the front door opening.

Zale, standing ten feet in front of her, saw them file in quietly, his face wet with his own tears.

Rhys looked around and quickly assessed the situation .

Willa pressed her hands to her cheeks, her eyes wide and stunned.

Bex tucked her fisted hands under her chin, tears streamed down her face.

Zale could still hear her screams echoing in his head.

Rhys looked to him for direction, permission, pointing to himself and making a motion as if to put his arms around Mara, his eyebrows raised in question.

Zale, anguished that he could not comfort her, gave a barely perceptible nod for Rhys to move in to restrain her.

Rhys moved up quietly behind Mara and gently encircled her wrists and wrapped them around her waist with his arms, caging her against his chest, his face bent into the space between her neck and her shoulder to prevent her from hitting his face with the back of her head. She bucked hard, trying to get away from him.

“It’s Rhys, Mara,” he murmured as she continued, not hearing, throwing her head back over his shoulder, straining against his strong arms, screaming her anguish.

Bex and Willa moved around in front of her, hoping she’d see them and calm, but neither could speak. They stood frozen, tears streaming down both of their faces now. Willa hugged herself around her waist, and Rebecca held in her own sobs with her hands over her mouth.

Rhys started talking low in Mara’s ear. “We’ve got you, Mara, we’re going to help you. ”

She stilled a bit, and sobbed, rolling her head back and forth on his shoulder. “I’ll save myself this time.”

“You will, you will save yourself, we’re just going to help. Rebecca is here, Willa is here, too. Rebecca, sweetness, get Mara two ice cubes, one for each hand.”

Bex ran to the kitchen and pulled open the freezer.

Zale took in the scene and finally shook off his stupor. He paced back and forth, watching Mara, wanting to move in to take her in his arms, but afraid that she’d deny him again. Seeing his little wife dwarfed and overpowered by the big man behind her sickened him. Even though he could see that she was calming, he abhorred the whole scene playing out in front of him, and he desperately wanted to be the one to hold her through this.

Why didn’t he see this coming? He’d had no idea what had been brewing. He had no idea because he’d lost focus on his marriage and missed all the signs. Anger with himself warred with grief for his wife’s pain, and fear for their future.

“You’re in pain Mara? You pull your hair when the pain gets bad?” Rhys asked her in his matter-of-fact way.

“Yes,” she hiccoughed.

“I’m going to pull your hair back for you, is that okay?”

“Yes. ”

Rhys wrapped her long hair around his wrist and pulled her head back gently.

Zale could not believe what he was hearing and seeing. He shook his head like an angry bull and moved forward. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Rhys?”

Rhys looked up at Zale and the sadness and compassion in his eyes stopped him in his tracks.

Willa moved in quickly to stand beside Zale, her hand on his heaving back, offering him her support, taking comfort also in his closeness.

“My wife had borderline personality disorder, too, Zale. She needed strong sensory input from the outside to counteract the pain on the inside. Please,” he held Zale’s eyes, “give it a minute to see if it will work for your wife.”

He allowed it because God knew he had no idea what to do for her. Impotent rage seethed just under the surface of his skin, and he moved closer, Willa beside him, but he did not interfere.

Rhys kept one arm wrapped around her ribs, pinning both of her wrists, and holding her close. He wrapped her long hair around his other fist. He put just enough pressure on her scalp to get her attention, he tucked her face into his neck and pressed his scruffy beard against her temple, giving her as much sensory input as he could to bring her back .

Mara stilled and closed her eyes, her sobs abating, her body relaxing. Rhys released her arms immediately but continued to support her around her waist. Bex returned with the ice.

“Rebecca has ice for you, Mara,” he continued in his low, husky voice. “Rebecca, sweetness, put an ice cube in each of Mara’s hands and close her fingers over them.”

Mara sobbed, “Bex,” when she felt Bex’ fingers closing over hers. They stood together, Mara safe in Rhys’ embrace, Rebecca’s loving hands gently cupping hers while she squeezed the ice.

“Hang on, Mara,” Bex murmured.

After a minute, the water from the melting ice cubes dripped through their fingers onto the floor, and Mara’s entire body relaxed.

Rhys slowly released her hair, and Mara bent her head to touch foreheads with Bex. She let out a breath and began to breathe deeply and evenly, interspersed with pitiful sobs, her body bucking with each one.

A violent tremor ripped through Zale’s body and startled Willa so much so that she jerked away from him. He couldn’t take his eyes off the sight of Mara in Rhys’ arms. Rhys met his gaze once again, and nodded to him to take Mara, a mix of sorrow and understanding in his eyes. Zale gulped in a breath of air, turned his face away from the sight, stalked into the kitchen and put his fist through the wall.