Boundaries Page 3

  “I’m Val. I work here at the hospital, in social services. This is Lawrenceville Regional Hospital’s first group of this kind. I am glad you decided to come. If there is anything you need to make this more comfortable, let me know and I’ll do my best.” The iPhone was now out of sight. “Would you like to go next?” I smiled at the older woman.

  “Sure, dear. My name is Norma, I’m retired, and well, thought this kind of thing might help me enjoy my free time a little more. When you’re as old as I am, you’ve seen a lot of things, been through a lot of...” She paused before she went on. “Stuff.”

  “Thank you, Norma, for sharing.” I nodded to the woman on her right. “Will you go next?”

  She fidgeted in her seat as she looked at her feet. “I’m Maggie. My therapist said this would help me. I’m not sure how I feel about being here.” The grip on her purse tightened as she adjusted herself in the seat.

  “Thanks, Maggie. I think new things like this are hard for a lot of us.” Norma nodded in agreement.

  The last woman leaned back against her chair and crossed her right leg over her left. “Guess you saved the best for last.” She looked around the circle to see if anyone reacted. We sat quietly as she went on. “No, but really, I’m Sonya. I found out about this group when I was at the domestic violence shelter a couple of days ago. I just want to get to the bottom of all this and get back to normal.”

  “Thanks, Sonya. Thank you, everyone, for the introductions. This group will be held weekly, in this room, at this same time. There aren't many rules, but a couple of the most important ones are that what we say in this room stays in this room, and we all need to be respectful of each other. If we feel we need to make more as we go along, we can."

  Maggie raised her hand before I finished. “We don’t need to raise our hands in here, we can just talk when we have something to say.”

  Her hand went to her face. “Do we have to talk when we are in here?”

  “No, of course not. Only do what feels comfortable.”

  “None of this is comfortable. What if he finds out I’m here?” Her voice trailed off as she finished.

  “Maggie, can I ask who you are referring to?” I paused for her to answer.

  “I’d rather not say… not today.”

  “That’s fair enough, we only share what we feel safe sharing.” I noticed her knuckles turned white from the grip on her purse. “Can I ask you if you are safe at home, Maggie?”

  “I’m not sure. I don’t know if he knows where I live.” I didn’t know Maggie enough to know if her fears were valid, or if she was paranoid.

  Sonya let out a heavy sigh, turning my attention to her. "Is everything alright, Sonya?" I was thankful the group was small enough that I was able to remember everyone's name.

  “I don’t understand why she’s here if she’s not going to talk. I mean… I don’t really want to be here, either, but I’m ready to be fixed. I want life to go back to normal.”

  The strain from not rolling my eyes induced a migraine. I rubbed the bridge of my nose to try to push it away before it settled. “Please be respectful of her. Of each other. We all just met, none of us know why the other is here.” A tinge of annoyance danced off my words. “Have you ever heard the saying, ‘Be kind to people, because you never know what kind of battle they’re facing?’ This group, this room, is a place for all of us to be kinder than we usually are. This is our safe space. We need to be patient as we get to know each other.”

  "Sorry. You're right, when I'm nervous I tend to lash out. I'll try harder." Her head turned toward Maggie and she forced a smile. "Sorry, Mags."

  Maggie nodded her head, her eyes fixated on her purse. The anxiety in the room made mine increase. What had I gotten myself into? The real question was, where was Jeanine? It was her fault I had to be the referee to a group of troubled women. Hell, who am I kidding? I need this group, maybe more than they do.

  “Norma, how are you doing over there?” Her calmness kept the energy in the room tolerable, but that was supposed to be my job.

  “I’m fine, dear.” I could tell her smile was forced this time. She wasn’t fine. If she were, why was she here?

  When I looked up from Norma, I saw a face peering in the small, rectangular window in the door. It was Jeanine. Maybe she was coming to rescue me after all. I motioned for her to come in. As the door opened, the women in the group turned around to greet her. She was not alone.

  A familiar woman stood at her side. I searched my memory to place who this woman was. I knew I had seen her before. I see a lot of people here at work, it was not uncommon for me to draw a blank, but this time, it was different. I felt connected to this woman, so much so that the other ladies faded from my vision.

  “Sorry to interrupt ladies, but I have a new member for your group.” Jeanine smiled as she patted the woman on the back. “This is Jane, she will be joining you.”

  Jane. I couldn’t get rid of her if I wanted to. Jane looked at me, smiled, and sat between Norma and Sonya. Seeing Jane brought the images of Carmen back to me, just as the newspaper headline had done only hours before.

  “Thanks, Jeanine, will you be joining us as well?” I knew the answer before I asked but wanted to put her on the spot.

  “No, not today. I’ve got a meeting to run to.” At the door, she waved to the five of us and shut it behind her.

  “Welcome, Jane. Glad you are joining us today.” The other women nodded, as though in agreement with me. “We were just getting to know each other a little bit, this is our first meeting.”

  “Thanks.” She pushed her straw-like brown hair behind her ear. “I’m here because of my baby, Carmen.” Her words pierced my chest as they left her mouth, like an arrow into a target. “I just found out that… that… she killed herself.” She took a crumpled-up tissue out of her jeans pocket and dabbed at her eyes. They were both dry, maybe she wanted to stop the tears before they escaped.

  "Oh, dear. I'm sorry, honey." Norma reached her hand out to Jane. She accepted the offer and bowed her head. We all sat in silence while we waited for Jane to continue. I fought the tears back as I watched the others come together for this stranger. I wanted some of this sympathy, but who was I in the big picture? In anyone’s big picture? I wanted what Jane and Carmen had —but now she didn’t even have it. Guilt washed over me as I took relief in that. She knows the pain I carry. I didn’t want the joy this brought me.

  I could not shake the feeling that Carmen was murdered. This was not the time or place to question Jane about it. There may never be a right time to question the authorities’ decision. And who am I to question them? A whirlwind of thoughts raced through my mind. I closed my eyes and shook my head to get them out.

  "Jane. I'm so sorry. This news must be tough for you." She lifted her head up and nodded.

  “It really is. It feels like I didn’t even know her. Carmen wasn’t like that. She wouldn’t… she would never have…” Her eyes closed again as her head dropped back down. Norma’s eyes glistened with tears; their hands still attached. I looked around the room, Sonya and Maggie both had moisture in their eyes. This was a rough turn of events for day one of a trauma support group. This is not at all what I had imagined. I didn’t know what to expect, but having Jane join us was the furthest thing from my imagination.

  Chapter Six

  Gabriel was waiting for me in his usual spot, ready to greet me after a long day. His love was just what I needed after today. I prepared his dinner, and then heated up some left-over Chinese; egg rolls and lo mein. I placed his bowl on his mat by the kitchen table, and pulled out the Village News from my tote bag, put it on the table, and retrieved my leftovers. I wasn't sure I was ready to read this, but I needed to.

  When Gabriel was done with his dinner, he jumped up on my lap so I could pet him. He purred as my hand ruffled up his fur. "Should I do this, Gabe? Or let it go?" He continued to purr as his green eyes looked up at me. "You're right. I just need to get it over with." I pushed my soggy eg
g rolls over and unfolded the paper. A sigh built up since morning escaped as I was faced with Carmen's beautiful smile.

  Nineteen-year-old Carmen Davidson's death came as a surprise to her family. She was a happy girl, on her way to her second year of college, without a worry in the world, … or so her mother, Jane Cater thought. After she claimed her daughter would have never harmed herself, she was the one to find the suicide note Davidson left behind. Relationship troubles are said to be the cause of her unhappiness. Her death has now been ruled a suicide.

  “I don’t buy it, Gabe. This seems fishy…like a big ole' can of tuna fish." I expected more to the front-page story. I waited all day to read this, afraid of what it might say, and then… nothing. Jane found her suicide note, but never mentioned a word about it today. My mind tried to recreate the note. I wondered what it said. I tried to picture Carmen, so depressed with life that she sat down with a piece of paper and a pen…or a computer…and wrote her good-bye letter to those she loved most. Why had it been so hard to find before? Did the shock of finding her covered in her own blood blind Jane before? Or did someone plant the note to make it look like a suicide?

  A hundred different scenarios played out in my head. I found a notebook and began to write down the thoughts as they came. What would I ever do with this? Not like I would give it to Jane, or Detective Phillips. My connection to this girl is borderline crazy. Maybe because she was nineteen. Such a loss, and so young.

  I folded the paper back up and carried Gabriel to the couch. “Snuggle time, buddy.” Gabriel’s warmth was just the right amount of comfort needed after a day like today. I flipped on the TV for my nightly veg session. Snapped was on next. Tim told me about this show before. We joked about him watching it. He said it was to help him figure out how deranged people think. He told me if I ever needed some ideas, this was the show to watch. Guess it was time to see what he was talking about.

  "I wonder if Tim is watching this tonight, too. Think we should invite him to join us?" I scratched behind his ears as he hummed against my chest. "Don't worry, buddy, you're the only guy I want to share my evenings with. There's no room for him on this couch." When the show came back on, it caught my interest. The voice of the host had me hooked by the first commercial break. There was no way I'm falling asleep on the couch tonight. "This is pretty good; don't you think, Gabe?" It hadn't kept him from sleeping, but napping was his favorite thing to do with a full belly.

  A hitman hired by an unfaithful wife. What could possibly go wrong with that? I couldn't believe how stupid people can be. Did she really think she would get away with it? Collect the insurance money and start a new life with a new guy? People like her made me sick. Were these the kind of people Tim had to deal with all the time? Or was this Hollywood? Either way, I was intrigued. Maybe I was in the wrong business. I already worked with the dead, perhaps it's time I started working with the reason they were dead. That just seemed too risky. I enjoyed flying under the radar. Some days I didn’t want to deal with people and just lock my door and spend my time doing paperwork. I bet homicide detectives didn’t have enough paperwork to stay away from people as long as I needed.

  Another episode came on. "Looks like it's our lucky night." I placed Gabriel's sleeping body onto the sofa so I could go to the bathroom and get a cup of tea. Peppermint tea always reminded me of my grandma and helped settle my stomach when I forgot how awful Chinese made me feel. I ran the water, put the kettle on the back burner and went to the bathroom. I left the door open so I wouldn't miss anything. It was just Gabriel and I, so who cared if I shut it? When I did close it, he laid by the door, stuck his paws under and meowed, forcing me to talk to him while I'm trying to be civilized. Thank goodness we never have company.

  After washing my hands, I put the tea bag into my favorite blue ceramic mug and poured the hot water over it. When the scalding water hit the teabag, the scent of peppermint tickled my nose. The heat of the cup in my hands warmed my frigid fingers. Cold hands, warm heart, they say…but I don't remember the last time I felt warmth in my heart.

  I took the fleece throw off the back of the couch, covered up with it and placed Gabriel back on my chest as I waited for the tea to cool enough to drink. Lost in the show, I forgot about my tea until Gabriel woke up, stretched and jumped off me. These shows helped me get into the mind of killers. Murderers are normal people until they snap. These shows reiterated my point that you never know who someone is. They are never who they seem. That has been my experience anyway.

  It was already eleven when another show came on. I didn't want to miss what might happen, but I also needed to get up for work tomorrow. Most likely, sleep will elude me, like all other nights, but I had to at least try. I made my nightly rounds to make sure the front door and all of the windows were locked, turned on the flashlight on my nightstand to make sure it worked, brushed my teeth, and opened up my nightstand to make sure my can of pepper spray was still in there.

  Tim offered to teach me how to use a gun when he found out about my pepper spray. I told him I didn't dare. If I was worried, I would hurt myself or someone else, I wasn't sure. It just seemed like too much power for me. I wanted to be able to protect myself but didn't want to kill anyone. Being able to take care of myself is important to me; there was no one else out there to do it. Gabriel might try, but what could he really do? It's my job to take care of us.

  Once in bed, I pulled the lavender cotton sheet and white down comforter up over my shoulders and tucked them under my chin as I shimmied my body into a comfortable position. Gabriel rested above my head as I turned off my lamp. The four women from the group were on my mind. I wanted to know their stories. Why had they come to the group? Maggie said her therapist suggested she come, but what about Sonya? Or Norma? What could have possibly happened to them to make them think it was a good idea to sit with strangers to discuss things that had hurt them? That was not something I would have done. But here I am, forced to run a group I wouldn’t even attend.

  “Gabe, I didn’t tell you what Jeanine did today,” I grunted my disgust. “She had the nerve to interrupt my group to bring Jane in. She didn’t even tell me she was coming, or that I should expect her. She didn’t even stay for the group.” A heavy sigh filled the room. “Guess that’s why she’s the boss and I’m not. I’d never make anyone do half the stuff she makes me do.

  “But you were right, the group wasn’t that bad…well…actually, it was pretty awful, but there were only four people, all ladies, so it could have been a lot worse. Can you imagine what it would have been like if some jackass showed up?" A laugh escaped. "Well, one did." I looked over at Gabriel, the moonlight glowed on his face just enough to make out his silhouette. "Tim stopped by before the group to ask me to call Jane." I paused before continuing. "Yeah, I know, Jane is everywhere today. I can't shake that lady. If it's not her, it's Carmen."

  I rolled over to try to block out the light coming in from the window. “Must be a full moon out there. Good night, buddy.” I closed my eyes and tried to push out all the thoughts. I might need to ask one of the doctors for something to help me sleep if this continues. I don’t even remember how long it had been since I was able to get a solid night’s sleep. Maybe, twenty years.

  Chapter Seven

  The light flashed red on my phone; it was the first thing I noticed when I put my tote bag down. After the group yesterday, I hadn't even checked my messages. I put my coffee down, got a pen, picked up the receiver, and dialed the passcode. Three messages. A hangup, Jeanine, and Tim. Jeanine demanded I go see her as soon as I get in, and Tim just invited me to coffee. Either he wants to talk shop, or he wants to try to convince me to go on a date with him. I’d love to pick his brain and let him know I found a new favorite show.

  As I powered up my computer, the phone rang. I just needed to check my email, but if I don't answer another message. . . A vicious cycle; some call it work. Looking over at the caller ID display, I saw that it was Jeanine. Rolling my eyes, I picked up the phone. "I
was just on my way up there."

  “Well, I am impressed you used the phone’s features. But unimpressed that you’re late… again.”

  “The traffic was a killer.”

  "Really, Val? What? A herd of cows escape?"

  “No, not this morning. A family of opossums was crossing the road. I tried to catch one, you know, for granny’s stew, but they were just too gawd darn fast fur me.”

  “Funny this morning, aren’t we? I just have a couple of things to run by you. Get settled in, wash the damn opossum off your hands, and come on up.”

  Surprised at how well Jeanine reacted to my joke, I didn’t take my usual time to get up to her office. It’s always better to get things over with, worrying about them takes so much of my time. I couldn’t think of anything she might be upset with me about, maybe she found someone else to run the group. At Jeanine’s door, the smell of tangerine drifted through the entrance. I wondered what she was trying to cure today. “Hey.”

  "Oh, hi, Val, that was fast." Her eyes went to her wrist. "Come on in, have a seat, shut the door behind you."

  “Uh oh…this doesn’t sound good. Don’t fire me…my cat will starve.”

  “Oh, stop it, Val, why would I fire my star employee?”

  I raised my right eyebrow at her. “Cut the crap Jeanine, what’s up?”

  “Tim has asked me to have you spend some time with Jane. He thinks you would be able to help her through her grief.”

  “Since when does Tim get to decide what my job is? We already talked. I told him I’d call her, but she came to the group… you know, the one you abandoned. You didn’t even stick around for a piece of cheese.”