Page 51 of That Summer
“Well, that explains why mom says he’s never home anymore.” Chris got quiet. It drove her insane how she could sit there so still and only blink. Was it a shrink thing? “For the record, I think you’re doing a great job.”
Sonot the response she was expecting. “What?”
“You’ve come a long way. You should be proud. You’re learning to fight the urges, and each time you resist, you’ll get better and stronger. Just like that night with Lucas, and tonight. You fought the urge.”
A small uncomfortable laugh escaped. “You’ve seen my apartment right? Trust me, I wasn’t fighting the urge too well.”
“Yes, I can tell a battle was brewing here.” Chris glanced around the disarray. “But, Aurora, whether you believe me or not, you won that battle.”
“But the thought of suicide?”
Her lips tightened, as did her expression. “Yes. That troubles me. Is this a reoccurring thought?”
“No. Dr. Navin asked me if I was happy to be alive, and that’s what started the fifty things that make me happy project.”
“That man loves his happiness projects.” She shook her head. “When was the last time you had thoughts of suicide?”
“When I was in the hospital recovering from the accident.”
“I see.”
“What? What are you thinking?”
Chris put her hand up and closed her eyes.
The clock ticked loudly but Aurora figured her heartbeat was noisier.
Chris leaned into the back of the kitchen chair. “Just give me a sec.”
Aurora dropped her chin to her chest and did as she was told. The wait ate at her, chewing up her insides.
“Okay, what I think we should do–”
Here it comes.
“Is cut back on everything. Can we re-schedule some of your physio visits? Maybe lessen the workload with the PTSD and the driving schedule Lucas has with you? Honestly, I think you are pushing yourself too hard. You’re on the verge of snapping.”
“I did snap,” she corrected.
“And you’re going to get worse if we don’t taper off. I’m not saying to quit, because I think you still need to do what you’re doing, but you need to back down. Practicing all day and night with Lucas. Therapy appointments every other day. Physio twice a week. And now you’re back in university. You’re just overwhelmed.”
“I know.”
“Taking a step back is okay.”
She wished Chris was a touchy-feely person because she could really use the comfort from a tender squeeze or a full body hug.
“Call Dr. Navin tomorrow and reschedule that appointment for as soon as you can and then go weekly.”
“But I don’t understand how this will help.”
Chris huffed, and swallowed a taste of coffee. “When I was a kid, mom put me in piano lessons with the strictest teacher on the planet. Mrs. Kensington made me do my scales at the most painful, slowest speed, and then at warp speed in time to the metronome. Over and over again. I was never allowed to play them at a regular, normal speed. However, as the time approached for testing, I got to. And you know what happened? Everything clicked into place. My scales were perfectly melodic. My songs were the right tempo. My fingers knew what to do.
“You, and your mind, you’re being challenged. You did the slow version, just after your accident. Now you’ve been doing the speed version with Lucas. Everything is telling you it’s time to slow down to a normal pace. Maybe then, everything will click into place.”
She nodded and swallowed down the lump forming in her throat. “But you don’t sound confident.”
“Aurora, the mind is a terribly complicated thing. Nothing is textbook. I wish it were. It would make solving problems as simple as ABC. All we can do is assess your situation, see what it compares to and, really, hope for the best. If it doesn’t work, we try a different route. But right now? Right now, you need a break. And Lucas needs to know that.”