Page 31

Nova

I woke up the next morning in the same position I was in when I lay down last night. The only time I moved was when Mama came up to check on me. I turned my head to the wall, and eventually she got the message that I wasn’t going to talk.

Before last night, morning was the only peaceful time of my day because that meant all the bad dreams were left in my sleep.

Not anymore, though. The bad dream followed me as I slept, and it was still there when I woke up.

My sister was really married to my husband.

Ex-husband? I didn’t know what to call him since we never got a divorce.

How did that work, anyway? I would ask Mama, but I was just as upset with her.

Well, maybe not just as upset, but I was upset.

She lied to me, too, and I bet she went to their wedding.

Did she wear the same dress that she wore to mine?

Did she help Leah with her hair and makeup like she helped me?

Did she and Daddy dance all night at their wedding too?

There were too many questions and no one to answer them.

No one I wanted to talk with, anyway. My body felt like it weighed a ton as I pushed myself off the bed and slowly made my way down the hallway and to the bathroom.

Like I did every morning, I looked at myself in the mirror, but the image didn’t feel the same as before.

I touched the braids that Leah did and once again . .. rage.

I rummaged through the drawers but didn’t find what I needed.

I went into Mama’s room. She was sitting on the side of the bed, still dressed in her pajamas, which wasn’t like Mama.

She acted like sleep was a terrible thing that she did only because it was required, not because she wanted to.

As soon as the sun came up, Mama was out of the bed and dressed for the day. She’d always been that way.

“Good morning.” Mama’s groggy voice greeted me when I walked past her and into her bathroom. “What are you doing?” She came to the doorway.

I was too busy pulling out drawers and moving things around to answer her. Then, in the last drawer, I found them. I held up the scissors and stomped past Mama and back into the hall bathroom.

“What do you need with those?” Mama asked, sounding more alert than she did a moment ago.

I didn’t answer. I still had no words for her right then. Instead, I proceeded with my task of removing all traces of Leah from my life, starting with those braids. I cut the first one.

“Nova!” Mama’s eyes were about to pop out of their sockets. “Why are you doing that?”

I kept cutting. It didn’t matter if I was cutting my own hair, which I was sure I was, but I didn’t care. Mama could only stand to watch me for so long before she bolted from the doorway and closed herself in her bedroom. I kept cutting until every single braid was on the bathroom floor.

When I saw myself in the mirror this time, I didn’t recognize the person who stared back at me.

Almost like I didn’t recognize her when she was locked in that bedroom.

I ran my hand over my hair, which was about a couple of inches long.

Other than a monthly trim at the salon, I’d never had my hair cut before .

.. ever. Maybe, if I had any feelings at all, I’d be upset by this new look.

Mama’s room door opened, and she came back and stood in the doorway again. Through the mirror, we stared at each other. Mama’s hand covered her mouth. Tears ran down her face. My eyes slid back to my reflection. Once again, I felt nothing.

“I’ll get you some shampoo and conditioner,” Mama said.

“Don’t bother.” I dropped to my knees, scooped up all the hair, and pushed it into the small trash can. “I’ll take it out later,” I told Mama when I walked past her and back into the bedroom. I opened the top drawer, removed the silk scarf, and tied it around my head.

I threw on a warm-up and tennis shoes and skipped breakfast and coffee. There was only one place I wanted to be. Outside in the backyard. Alone. That was the plan for today, but I should’ve known things wouldn’t go my way. Did they ever?

It felt like I’d just sat when Mama opened the back door and stole the dream I had of being by myself.

“Nova. Dr. Yvonne’s here to see you.” Mama stood aside, and a woman who looked to be around the same age as Mama walked down the steps and across the yard to me. Dr. Yvonne’s gray locs caused me to touch the silk scarf that covered my new hairstyle.

“Hi, Nova. It’s really nice to finally meet you.” Dr. Yvonne’s voice was warm and rich like molasses. She extended her hand to me.

I shook her hand, which was unbelievably soft.

“Mind if I join you?” Dr. Yvonne asked, slipping her purse from her shoulder as if I’d already agreed with her sitting and invading my space.

My immediate thought was to push her away.

To create the distance that I craved today, especially since Leah was the person who arranged my sessions with Dr. Yvonne.

Even knowing all that, I still found myself nodding in agreement.

A part of me wanted to hold on to the hate that I felt so deep inside me, and another part wanted .

.. no, needed ... someone to tell me everything was going to be okay. That I wouldn’t feel this way forever.

Dr. Yvonne took the chair across from me. The firepit sat between us.

“This is really nice,” she said, looking around the backyard, which wasn’t as big as the front, but almost. “I’d love to have land like this where I can garden.”

Mama would love Dr. Yvonne from that statement alone. They could spend time together in the yard, gardening and drinking tea. If Dr. Yvonne loved to gossip, then she and Mama would be friends for life.

“Let me guess,” I said, drawing Dr. Yvonne’s attention away from the landscape. “Mama called you and asked you to come over because she thinks I’m having a nervous breakdown. Is that right?” I crossed my arms and tilted my head while I waited for confirmation.

Dr. Yvonne’s small black glasses sat at the edge of her nose. She looked over them and at me. “Believe it or not, I was the one who called. I wanted to see if it was okay for me to come and meet you today.”

“Not,” I said.

“Pardon?” Dr. Yvonne narrowed her eyes and leaned forward.

“You said, ‘believe it or not.’ I choose not.”

Dr. Yvonne smiled. “Oh, but it’s true.”

“So, you always see clients on a Sunday?” I asked, thinking I’d caught her in a lie.

“Not always, but I felt bad that I wasn’t here to meet you sooner. However, to be honest, your mom did fill me in on the news you received last night.”

“Figures.”

“But”—she held up her finger—“that doesn’t change the fact that I initiated this visit. You’ve been back home, what, almost a week now, right?”

“Seven days since I’ve been home and nine days since I was freed from that house,” I answered without hesitation.

“Seven days,” Dr. Yvonne repeated. “How have you been feeling?”

I laughed. “Are you sure you want that answer?”

“Of course.” She crossed her legs and smoothed out her long wool skirt, which covered most of her leather boots. “This is our time to sit and chat. I want to get to know a little more about you.”

“There’s not much to know. I spent fifteen years locked in a room. Now I’m out, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing anymore.”

“I know it can’t be easy coming back after all those years apart from your family and the world, but you have to know that being out here and having your freedom is a gift that you may not feel right now, but you will one day.”

“When? Maybe I’d believe it if you could tell me when that’ll happen. I’m a stranger in my own life. I don’t fit in anywhere anymore. You can’t even begin to imagine what that feels like.”

“No, I can’t, but I do know that there’s something incredible waiting for you on the other side of your journey. My job is to be here with you and help you get there.”

I stared at a leaf that drifted from the tree and onto the ground and thought about Dr. Yvonne’s words. It was hard to imagine what the other side of this journey could look like. Based on how my life had gone so far, I’d say that the other side was just as bad or worse.

“Do you believe that some people were born to be miserable?” I asked Dr. Yvonne as I thought about my existence.

She didn’t answer right away, which I liked.

It meant she was giving my question some serious thought.

I felt like everyone said what sounded right without really thinking about the answer.

Then again, maybe not. I thought of how quiet Leah, Mama, and Quinton would get whenever I asked about Quinton’s wife.

They took forever to answer, and it wasn’t because they were giving my question some serious thought. It was to think of a lie.

“No, I don’t believe people are born to be miserable.

” Dr. Yvonne unfolded her legs and pushed herself to the edge of her chair before she continued.

“Life can certainly deal some incredibly difficult and painful experiences, which can cause you to feel like you’re trapped in a cycle of suffering.

But I believe that everyone has the capacity for growth, healing, and finding those special moments of joy and peace.

And I believe that all of that can happen even in some of our darkest times. ”

“All of that sounds amazing, but it’s really hard to find joy and peace from my darkest times.

What’s joyful or peaceful about having your life stolen away from you?

About coming into a world where you can’t even make a simple cup of coffee without help?

Or where you find out that the people you trusted the most betrayed you the most?

” I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Dr. Yvonne, but I’ll never believe that there’s anything more for me than what I’m feeling right now. ”

“And Skye?” She lifted her thin arched brows. “I saw that you have a seventeen-year-old daughter. What do you think about when you think of her?”