Her eyebrows arched up. “Nightmares?”
“Dreams. I don’t know.”
“Does Marco appear in these dreams?”
I pursed my lips. “Sometimes.”
“And how does he appear?”
“I don’t know. Usually he just pops up out of nowhere.” I said, looking around the room instead of at her.
“What does he do?”
I shook my head slowly. “He attacks me. Tries to hurt me.”
“Are you afraid of him hurting you?”
“In the dream? Yeah, definitely. In real life? No. I know he’s in a maximum security prison. He’s not getting out of that.”
She clicked her pen a few times. “Do you have any theories about why Marco has shown up in your dreams? Did you ever write him a letter?”
“I did, actually. Write him, I mean. I don’t know why he would show up in my dreams so much lately. I guess it’s just been bothering me, wondering why he did it.”
“Did you ask him?”
“Yes.”
She noted this on her pad and then sat silent, listening for me to speak again. Eventually I continued on.
“I hope he answers. It feels like that’s the missing piece for me to recover. Finding out why.”
I fell silent and waited for her to be the one to talk next. As far as I was concerned, I’d said all I needed to.
It took a while, but eventually she relented. “How do you feel about the way you’ve handled the death of your parents since the last time we met?”
That wasn’t what I’d been expecting. “I don’t know, pretty good I guess. I think sending that letter to Marco was a good idea. Thank you for the suggestion.”
I’d expected her to smile at that, but she kept her face neutral. “You’re welcome. What are you expecting from that letter?”
“An answer, I hope.”
“And if you don’t get the answer you’re hoping for?”
I shrugged. “Back to the drawing board. I don’t know yet how I’m going to recover if I don’t know why it happened. Honestly I’m not sure I can. It’s just such a mystery.”
She nodded and wrote some more before putting her pen down. “What does recovery mean to you, Lorrie?”
“What do you mean?”
“Earlier we talked about how Marco used that word and how it’s stuck with you.”
“Right,” I said, squinting as I tried to understand what she was getting at.
“So what does that word mean to you? It might seem obvious but I just want to know what you think.”
It felt like she was trying to trick me. I fell back deeper into the couch and considered what she was asking. I’d been told since my mom died that I was supposed to be trying to recover. Now she was asking me what that meant?
“I don’t know,” I said carefully. “What do you think?”
“It’s not about what I think, and I’m not trying to confuse you here. Let’s just talk through this. What does recovery mean?”
I sighed. “Get back to normal?”
“Good,” she said, nodding. “How much do you think you have recovered to this point? Based on that criteria.”
Even though I opened my mouth to answer, I had nothing. After a moment during which I felt stupid, I closed it and thought about what to say.
How could I even answer that question? Was my life back to normal? Definitely not. Normal people didn’t have nightmares about their mother’s murderer. But how close was I, even? The more I thought about it, the more muddled my mind became.
Everything had changed with Hunter, basically. Our relationship was going pretty well, but it couldn’t exactly be called “normal.” He was such a unique person dealing with his own issues, and I hadn’t fully gotten over mine either. Maybe there was no normal for us. Maybe . . .
“I can tell you’re having trouble with that one,” Dr. Schwartz said, interrupting my musing. “But that’s fine. It’s a very complex issue. I’d like you to think about that over the coming weeks and we can talk about it more at our next session.”
She stood up and held out her hand for a handshake. I rose and took it unsteadily. This wasn’t normal for her. For once, she was even smiling.
“I think that you’re making terrific progress,” she said. “Whether it’s toward recovery or something else, it seems the future is certainly looking up for you Lorrie. I want you to know that I’m proud of the work you’ve done toward building your future. It’s very brave.”
It was a little surprising that she seemed so positive now, after the things she had said before. I looked to her with my eyebrow raised, but she kept smiling as she showed me to the door. There was no harm in it, I figured. If she thought I was making progress, even it wasn’t toward something in particular, that was good enough for me. Maybe I even agreed with her.
Chapter Eighteen
AN INVITATION
I woke up at my desk from an impromptu nap feeling like I was missing something. It was Friday, and I’d been working on a picture for Hunter in my room after an early lunch. I had only intended to rest my eyes, but I’d definitely been out for a while, and while I couldn’t remember my dream I had a feeling it had been intense. Even though my therapy session with Dr. Schwartz the previous day had raised some questions, overall I was feeling quite good today. Maybe she was right, I just had to reflect on what happened with Marco and my parents and I would get close to recovering.
Still groggy, I sat back in my chair and tried to get my bearings. I looked down at the desk. A half-finished sketch of Hunter captaining a boat lay in the spot my head had been a moment earlier. The kittens were scattered around the boat¸ and some of them even wearing silly sailor hats.
It was an amusing picture. When I was done, I was pretty sure Hunter would get a kick out of it.
I looked at the clock while stifling a yawn. Already almost three o’clock. Wow, time had flown. As I stood up, I glanced out the window and saw the mailman leaving.
Perfect timing. Since I had submitted my portfolio, I had been making a point of checking the mail every day in case there was news about my entry. Hoping this might be the day, I rushed down the stairs and out the front door.
A large white envelope was waiting for me in the mailbox. I pulled it out and saw it had my name on it. The envelope was from the Illinois Arts Council. I hadn’t been this excited by a piece of mail since my acceptance to Arrowhart.
Leaving the rest of the mail in the box for the time being, I tore the envelope open and pulled out the letter.
Dear Lorrie,
Congratulations! You have been invited to exhibit at the Illinois Arts Council’s Convention for Undergraduate Students at Arrowhart College.
I stopped reading there and yelled out in triumph. This was it! I had made it to the next round. Excited to explore the rest of the envelope’s contents, I gathered up all the mail and ran back inside the Perkins house.
I opened the door and rushed to the living room. Hunter was working in the dining room, but my aunt was nowhere to be seen. Uncle Stewart was at work and the kids were at school.
“I got invited to exhibit!” I yelled, jumping up and down.
Bones and Frida came out from some corner to see what all the commotion was about. I took a seat on the couch, threw the rest of the mail on the coffee table, and began to read my letter from the Illinois Arts Council again.
I was being invited to exhibit a week from this upcoming Saturday. In order to win the award, I had to exhibit. The Council would pay for hotel accommodations for the weekend. As a finalist, I needed to be prepared to talk for ten minutes about my portfolio for the judges.
Taking a deep breath, I scanned to the end of the page and then put the letter aside to flip through the glossy brochure that had been included. There was a long list of art schools that would be represented at the convention.
This could be a huge opportunity to network with a lot of great places. My mind spun as I thought about the best way to take advantag
e of the chance to meet all these people.
“What was all that yelling about?” Hunter asked, wiping his hands as he came in from the dining room.
“I’m a finalist!” I said excitedly. I grabbed the letter and stood up from the couch to show him.
It took him a second to register before his gray eyes brightened. “For the art competition?” he asked.
I nodded happily.
“Oh wow Lorrie, that’s awesome!”
He took my letter in one hand and hugged me close to him with his other. I threw both arms around his torso and gave him a big squeeze.
“Wow, this thing’s coming up. I’ll have to make plans to go with you. I’ve never been to an art exhibition, but it’s probably cool, right?”
I shrugged. “I’ve never been to one either, but probably.”
“It’s totally going to be one of those places where people are all like ‘I do say, Richard, what a marvelous piece,’” Hunter said, slipping into a ridiculous posh English accent. He lowered his voice. “‘Too right, too right my boy. Simply splendid. Such emotive brush strokes.’”
I giggled. “Wow, you know so much about art.”
He shrugged sheepishly and handed the letter back. “I dunno, I’m guessing they would probably talk about brush strokes for paintings. Right?”
“Sure,” I said with a laugh.
Just then my aunt came up from the basement. “What’s all this fuss about?” she asked, coming into the room.
“I got invited to exhibit at Arrowhart next week for the art contest I submitted to.” I said quickly.
Her face broke out in a big smile. “Oh my goodness! That’s amazing!”
She took her turn with the letter and then began to flip through the brochure. “Lorrie there are a lot of art schools there. Do you think these are places you might want to apply?”
I looked at Hunter quickly before answering. “Yeah. I mean maybe. It’s definitely worth checking out.”
There was silence as my aunt continued to flip through the brochure. My heart pounded in my chest. This was so exciting, and yet my aunt’s question had made the reality of going away for art school more real. Would Hunter come? If not, could we make a long-distance relationship work?
I bit my lip before smiling at him. He smiled back. We could cross that bridge when we got there. It was a long way off.
Chapter Nineteen
NEW BEGINNINGS
We made a lot of plans in the week leading up to the art convention. Aunt Caroline and Uncle Stewart were going to come up to Studsen with me to attend my exhibit. Hunter had just about finished his work on the dining room and started looking for short term apartments near the Perkins house.
He’d decided that since he would be staying in Eltingville with me at least for a few more months, he wanted to move out and get a place of his own. Even though my aunt tried to convince him to stay longer, we were pretty excited about looking around for a new place for him. Plus, Hunter having his own place would free up opportunities for fun activities we could engage in without having to worry about whose house we were in.
We had just found a fully furnished place that he liked a few blocks from the main highway and made an appointment to sign the lease the next morning. When we pulled into the driveway after seeing the apartment, Joel and Billy were chasing each other in the grass out front.
“You’re back!” Billy yelled, running toward us.
Hunter nodded and waved at them.
“Are you taking the kittens with you when you move out?” Joel asked, catching up to his older brother.
Hunter picked Joel up and pretended to wrestle him, tousling his hair. “Yeah buddy, I think I will. The place is cool with pets, and I think the little guys have imposed on your mom and dad for long enough.”
“Awww . . . ” Joel and Billy said, almost in unison.
“Don’t worry, I’ll bring them by to visit when I come see Lorrie.”
“Yay!” the boys sang. Billy latched onto Hunter’s leg and tried to climb him like a tree.
I shook my head smiling. Those boys sure had their priorities straight. Hunter stayed behind to play with them while I headed into the house.
I was still smiling when I ran into my aunt in the kitchen. She turned around from stirring the large pot on the stove when I came in.
“Oh, there you are. Here, have a little snack. Dinner will be ready in an hour.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but then the smell of chicken noodle soup reached my nose. Grabbing a small metal spoon from the drawer, I sat down and decided not to argue.
Aunt Caroline started cutting vegetables while I drank the soup. I watched her work. She was in a good mood, humming to herself.
“So, how was the apartment hunt today?” she asked.
“Pretty good, I think Hunter found one that he liked.”
“You know he can stay as long as he wants, right?”
I nodded. “I told him that, but I think he’ll feel better about living on his own somewhere.”
“Well, you know the boys will be heartbroken with him and the kittens gone.”
I laughed. “I’m sure he’ll be around often enough that the boys won’t mind.”
“Hey now, it’s not just the kids. I’ll miss having him around to run errands, get groceries and cook breakfast for us too.”
“Come on, Aunt Caroline, it won’t be that bad. I’ll help you do those things.”
“Okay, if you say so. I’ll hold you to that,” she said. She turned and winked at me before wiping her hands on the kitchen towel and leaning back against the counter. “Are you excited about the convention tomorrow?”
“Yeah! I’m definitely excited. A little nervous I guess.”
“That’s normal, dear. When I was in college I nearly fainted in the middle of my final presentation for my public speaking class!”
I laughed. It was weird to think of a college aged Aunt Caroline. I pictured her hair in a scrunchie like I’d seen in the photo of her with my dad. “Wow. I definitely hope nothing like that happens.”
“I’m sure you’ll handle it better than I did. The most important thing is meeting all the representatives from these art schools. I imagine that will be more one-on-one than a giant crowd.”
I considered this. “Yeah, though it would definitely be cool to win. I guess at this point it’s already more than I could have hoped for, getting to meet people from these art schools and have a chance to have my work judged at a high level. I’m just going to try and enjoy it.”
“I think that’s a very good attitude, dear.”
My aunt hummed cheerfully. When she noticed that my bowl was empty, she tutted. “Here I am talking your ear off and you must be starving. Would you like—”
Billy came in the front door. “MOM!”
Something was wrong. My aunt’s eyes went wide and she dropped the ladle in her hand before bolting for the door. I followed right behind her, my heart in my mouth.
Billy waited just long enough for us to get to the door before running into the yard. When we got outside, it took a while to even understand what had happened. Billy came to a stop a few feet away from Hunter, who was on the ground. Joel was holding onto Hunter’s hand, trying to drag him up.
“I’m okay. I’m okay,” Hunter said. His words seemed fuzzy and indistinct and his eyes were unfocused. My stomach sank. I felt like I was going to be sick.
“What’s going on here?” Aunt Caroline asked.
Joel let go of his hand and answered. “Hunter fell.”
“It’s okay,” Hunter said. “Just a little scraped up.”
He showed us his arm. An angry red rash covered a few inches of skin on his wrist. I looked at the frightened expressions on Joel and Billy’s faces. This wasn’t just a fall. Something wasn’t right. My pulse pounded in my ears and the hair at the back of my neck stood up.
Hunter looked like a drunk man stumbling when he tried to stand up. He got up on one knee but when he tried to stand
it buckled and he went down. I ran to him, taking his hand.
Even though I was trying to slow my breathing, my breath came in quick bursts. “What happened?” I asked, as calmly as I could.
His eyes were wide and panicked but he continued trying to stand up. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Hunter, it’s okay. Stay down for a minute. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I’m okay. I’m okay. Just help me get up.”
I eased myself under his armpit and strained to help him up. It was no use. His legs folded awkwardly under him and he was way too heavy to lift by myself.
I collapsed under him, panting.
A thin sheen of sweat covered his forehead. He gulped for air like a fish out of water. The doctor had said Hunter’s next MS attack could be a lot worse. Was this it? From the look on Hunter’s face, I could tell he was thinking the exact same thing. I was on the edge of panic, my throat dry and thick.
Whatever I felt at that moment, I needed to get myself under control. I turned to my aunt. Her eyes were wide with concern.
“I think we need to call an ambulance,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking.
“No!” Hunter said. “No. It’s fine. I just need to get to the hospital. I’m so sorry Ms. Perkins.”
His face was red. He kept trying to get up but he couldn’t. Watching him struggle sent hot spikes of pain searing through my heart. He was just as frightened as I was, maybe even more so.
My aunt looked at me for a second, her face full of questions, but thankfully she didn’t ask any. She jumped into action right away. “I’ll call Stewart and have him meet us at the hospital. Boys, get in the van.”
Joel and Billy marched dutifully to the family’s minivan, climbing into the backseat. Even though the situation looked bad, they had complete faith that their mother had things under control.
Once she was sure the boys had followed directions, my aunt turned to me. “Come on, help me move him.”
I nodded numbly and put Hunter’s arm around me again. Aunt Caroline took his other arm.
Even with the two of us, Hunter was very heavy. We half carried, half dragged him to the van. His legs dangled below him, unable to bear any weight. Eventually we got him into the middle row and put a seat belt around him. I sat in the middle row with him, while my aunt hurried around to the driver’s seat and started the car. Soon we were on our way.