The Healing Quilt (22 page)

“Well, if that's the last decision, I need to run.” Elaine glanced at her watch. “Amazing how time can rip by in a fabric store.”

“Thanks for your help.” Kit reminded herself to warm up the smile and tone. “We'll be cutting next Wednesday.”

“You already put the article in the paper?”

“No, Harriet did. It will run on Friday.”

“Good. I'll see you then. Oh, who's going to wash all this?”

“I will, no big deal. They can iron it at the cutting.”

“Thanks, Myrna. And you'll do the discount?”

Myrna nodded. “I planned on it anyway.”

By the time they finished cutting fabric and batting, bagged it all, and Myrna figured the discount, most of another hour had passed. Teza looked around for her fruit prints while Kit chatted with Myrna.

“This is going to be a beauty,” Myrna said more than once. “I love seeing a quilt go from idea to finished product, and this one is going to do a lot of good. You mark my words, this quilt is destined to be a real blessing, most likely more than any of us know.”

“I hope so.”

“I don't just hope so, I know so.” Myrna patted the bags. “This is a God project. The blessings will be there.”

Kit stifled a sigh and pasted on a pleasant smile. Another one like Teza. Sometimes she felt ganged up on from every side.

“I don't want to go back there again.”

“Come on, Beth, what was so terrible about it?” Garth pushed the coffee cup on the kitchen table to the side and leaned forward.

Beth forced herself to sit quietly. After all, this was just Garth across the table, and they were in their own home. Nothing to be afraid of here.
Afraid. Where had that word come from? She
tried to think, but the darkness seemed to seethe around her ankles like octopus arms, the sucking cups clinging to her, dragging her down.

“What are you afraid of?”

Now you sound like the doctor.
“There must be some other way.”

“Some other way to what?” He smoothed his hair back with both hands, as if needing something for his hands to do.

“To…to help me.”

“You do agree that you need help?”

Beth stared down at her hands clenched in her lap, one thumb wearing the skin off the other. “I… I guess so. If… If I could just have a baby, everything would be all right. I know it would. So why won't God give us a baby?”
You know why. In all your fault. You kiüed one, and God took the other. Why should he trust you with any more?
Beth squeezed her eyes shut and tangled her fingers in her hair, pulling, moaning to block out the voices in her head.

“Beth! Beth! What are you doing?” Garth came around the table and grabbed her hands. “Stop, Bethy, honey. What is happening to you?”

She watched as if from the other side of a wide chasm, seeing herself writhing in the chair, long mahogany hairs floating to the floor, seeing the tears run down both their faces, feeling the despair that oozed up out of the cavern and enveloped her in blackness.

When she awoke some time later, she was lying in bed, Garth stretched out beside her, sound asleep. She lifted her hands to find them wrapped in towels with duct tape bracelets holding them in place.
What
.
what have I done? Her
scalp burned and itched. She wanted to scratch it, but that was impossible with the boxing gloves on.
Think, what happened?
She remembered sitting at the table, remembered the frantic feeling— from what? What had they been talking about?
Think, Beth, think.
But nothing would come, other than a blackness that, like a black paintbrush, painted over any thoughts that made sense.

Sleeping was far easier than thinking.

When she woke again to a raging thirst and an imperative need for the bathroom, Garth was gone and her hands were still covered and taped. She swung her feet to the side of the bed and stood. A wave of dizziness almost sat her down again. But she had to go too bad to wait.

“Garth! Garth!” The croak went no farther than the bedroom door. No way could she get her slacks down with the mitts on. She staggered to the door and out into the hall. “Garth!” She screamed his name. Nothing. Where had he gone? With the pressure mounting she tore at the duct tape with her teeth, catching the edge on her right wrist and peeling the tape off bit by bit. She shook off the towel and headed for the bathroom and relief. Her anger burned bright and quick. Whatever possessed him to bind her hands like that and then just leave her? What could she possibly have done to deserve such treatment?

She stormed down the hall, through the kitchen and out the back door, sure he must be working in the garden. But only the flowers and the birds with a butterfly or two filled their backyard. Next door the children were laughing and teasing, with the sound of an adult voice nearby. In the yard on the other side of theirs, the neighbor boy played with his dog, someone else laughing at their antics. All the world had children but her. She massaged her scalp with her fingertips and stared at the hairs that came out with her hands when she stopped. “Good grief, am I losing my hair now too?”

“No, not until you pulled it out.”

She jerked around to stare over her shoulder. She clapped a hand to her heart, felt it race under her palm. What he'd said penetrated, sending her heart tripping even faster. Her breath caught in her throat. “What do you mean?”

He sat down on the step beside her. “You don't remember?”

“I remember waking up with towels taped to my hands and having to go to the bathroom so bad I nearly wet my pants, and you were nowhere around to help me. Whatever got into you?”

“Into
me?”
He took a breath and lowered his voice. “Beth, you were screaming and pulling your hair out.”

“Don't be ridiculous!”
Garth, what are you doing? Trying to make me insane? Or am I insane?
“I remember we were sitting at the table talking, and the next thing I remember is waking up in bed and my hands were in mitts, but you were sound asleep beside me, and before I could say anything, I fell back asleep. And then you were gone.”

“I covered your hands so you wouldn't hurt yourself.”

Beth kept shaking her head as he continued.

“You tore at your hair and then you fainted, fell right off the chair. I carried you to bed and was going to call the doctor, but you seemed to be just sleeping, so I waited. You slept for a couple of hours. I knew you were exhausted, so I covered your hands and took a nap too. Dr. Kaplan said that a mild tranquilizer might help, so I went down and he gave me some samples. I thought I'd be back before you woke up.”

“You're not making this up, are you?” She knew the answer by the look on his face. One thing about Garth, he never told a lie. Not even a polite one. She covered her face with her hands, ashamed to look at him. “Garth, I'm so sorry. I'm so ashamed.”

“Ashamed for what?” He put his arm around her, but she pulled away.

“The way I acted.”

“I think you are real close to a nervous breakdown, and Dr. Kaplan agrees with me. He'd like you to call him. He'll see you anytime. I think he'd even make a house call if we asked him.”

Beth could tell Garth was trying to keep this light, as if they were discussing nothing more important than what to have for dinner. She clasped her arms around her legs and laid her cheek on her knees. Nervous breakdown. They put people in mental hospitals for nervous breakdowns.

“I'll take the pills, okay? Did he say what the side effects might be?”

“Sorry, I didn't ask, but they're probably on the package.” Garth rose and returned in a minute or so with a glass of water and a capsule, taking the steps down to the lawn so he could hand them to her, all the while watching her as if afraid she might go off again.

She put the pill on her tongue and chugged down half the water, then held the glass in both hands, resting it on her knees. /
never dreamed Vd be taking pilL for my sanity. Good old anti-pill Beth, look what you've come to.
When he sat down beside her, she laid her head on his shoulder. “Did we have lunch?”

“Nope, you didn't have breakfast either, other than a cup of coffee. You feel up to Jose's?”

“I'd rather stay home.”

“Fine. I'll go get tacos or something. You have a preference?”

“No. Whatever you decide.” She clasped her arms around her legs again.

“You sure you'll be all right here alone?” He laid a hand on her shoulder, and she laid her cheek against it. She nodded. He bent down and whispered in her ear. “I'm glad you took that pill.”

I hope I will be.
“It's not Prozac, is it?”

“No. But I don't remember the name. You can look on the box. It's in the bathroom.”

“Umm.”

After Garth left, Beth moved over to the padded lounger and set the back at half reclining. A mew from bushes beside the patio made her sit upright again. “Hey, kitty, is that you?” While the half-grown cat had seemed to establish this yard as his territory, he still hadn't let Beth pick him up. She watched the rhododendrons, and sure enough, there he came, sneaking out from the safety of the bushes. He sat on the edge of the concrete patio and began to clean himself.

“You look more like a cat now than a roughneck stray.”

He stopped licking his front paw and looked over at her as if waiting to see what she would do next. When she neither moved nor spoke, he went back to his grooming.

“You've sure been cleaning up the food.”

Lick, scrub ear, lick, wipe eyebrows, lick, back to side of face. He changed paws and started on the other side of his mottled coat. With dusk coming on, he faded into the shadows without changing his position.

“I wish, if you really are going to be our cat, that you would let us help you. And I don't mean just feed you.”
Anyone who came by here would think I truly am batty, talking to myself.
She let herself sink into the cushions, her eyes drifting shut. Even clasping her hands over her middle became too much like work, so they fell by her sides.

At a sudden weight on the cushion by her knees, her eyes jerked open just in time to meet the gaze of the questing cat. She smiled and closed her eyes again. She felt him turn around and settle into a circle, the heat of him warming her knee. When he began to purr, she marveled at the depth of it for such a small cat, the sound sinking her ever deeper into peace. If only she could stay like this, neither awake nor sleeping. No nightmares, no pointed looks from Garth, no one yelling in her mind. Perhaps the pills weren't so bad after all.

Beth thought about the other evening working with Kit and Teza. Such nice people. /
wish I'd stayed for iced tea. Perhaps the cancer quilt will help me make new friends.

The purring vibrated against her knee. The kitten trusted her enough to sleep beside her. Perhaps she could trust Dr. Kaplan. Or Kit. Kit had lost a child too.
But will she hate me if I tell her my secreti