“I understand your feelings, Shelby. I’ve been there. I want to help you. I can tell you this. After I got the help I needed, I was a completely different person. I was happier and healthier. You can be, too.”
Shelby nodded. “Thank you. I just wish I had talked to you about this sooner.”
“Me too,” I told her. “Me too.”
I sat by her bed, holding her hand until her boyfriend, David, arrived. He held a sleepy Jayce in his arms.
He rushed to Shelby’s side. Grasping her hand, he looked at me. “Thank you for coming so quickly. I know you didn’t have to be at work until eight, but thank you for dropping in sooner.” David said. “It really means a lot.”
I nodded, humbled by his words. “You’re welcome. I don’t see this as just a job. My clients mean the world to me. I want to do everything I can to help them.” I looked at Shelby. “They will probably transfer you to a psych ward for a few days just to monitor you. Once they feel you are stable enough, they’ll refer you for further treatment, but you’ll be allowed to go back home.” Glancing back at David, I continued, “The best thing you can do when she gets back home is help her out as much as possible. Let her get some good solid sleep, at least on the nights when you don’t have to work the next day. If Jayce gets really fussy, take him for a walk. Get him out of the house for an hour or so and let her have a break. It’s crucial for you to help her as much as possible right now. Okay?”
“I will,” David promised, “I just want her to feel better. I want her to be happy.”
“I just don’t want Child Protective Services to take Jayce away from me,” Shelby said, frightened.
“They won’t, as long as one parent can take care of him.”
David nodded. “I’ve got mom and dad to help out, too,” he assured me.
“Great. Then everything should be fine. Take care of yourself, Shelby. I’ll be in and out to check on you.”
“Thank you Mrs. Honeycutt. Thank you for everything.”
I smiled, squeezed her shoulder, and headed out the door toward my car. I could see a little bit of myself from fourteen years ago in Shelby—that frightened mom who was overcome by feelings she didn’t quite understand—feelings that should have consisted of overwhelming love and joy, but were instead blanketed by resentment and frustration.
I drove away from the hospital thankful that I’d finally found the courage all those years ago to call a therapist and get the help I needed. I was grateful for the chance to talk to Shelby. I hoped that I’d helped her in some small way.
A week later I got another text from Chris. After the wonderful conversation we’d had, I’d kind of expected it to be sooner. I was pulling my hair all week. The endless phone checking interrupted my entire week, my job, and my time with Alexis. I was distracted, daydreaming like a teenager with a crush. I couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed with each passing day.
Chris: It’s been a busy week, but I just wanted you to know that I can’t stop thinking about you.
I nearly giggled when I read his text, and suddenly a week felt like nothing—until I was standing in line at the grocery store and saw all those tabloid pictures on the magazines.
Chris had been photographed with several different girls. One photograph was taken mid-hug, and in another he was holding one girl’s hand while they walked. What the hell? I slammed my grocery items on the conveyor with such force that the cashier gave me a funny look. Don’t take it out on the produce, Salem.
I immediately deleted his text.
Two days later, he texted again while I sat in the parking lot waiting to pick up Alexis after school.
Chris: Didn’t hear from you. Wondering if you got my last text? Hope you’re doing well. Passing through Charlotte in several weeks. Are we still on for dinner?
Ugh. I’d forgotten about my promise to cook for him. The forever-loyal Salem took control of my fingers and typed out my response, despite my efforts to beat her back down.
Yes. We’re still on.
A new text immediately popped up.
Chris: Great. Can’t wait to see you.
Can’t wait to see me? Yeah, me and ten other girls…
I wanted to forget those photos and bring myself back to how I felt after we talked the other night, but I couldn’t. So, I added a new emotion to this constant craziness—jealousy.
Tommy caught me texting Salem again. “Damn, son, whoever this chick is… she’s got you whipped. You do realize there are a lot of sexy, young women out there who are just dying to get with you.”