coffees than I could say grace over; more evenings spent with old friends in their homes; more parties at ours.
“You just seem to have extra energy,” he said, when I finally protested mildly. “I thought you might feel like doing some things with me now.”
HILL TOWNS / 45
“Oh, darling, of course!” I cried. “I haven’t meant to neglect you. I didn’t realize I was….”
“Well,” he said, “I know this therapy stuff has been tough on you.”
So I joined the extra committees and went to, and gave, the parties. But I did not cut back on the therapy.
Finally, midway in the second year, I began to make trips off the Mountain with Corinne. Tiny ones, at first; really just drives to the base of the Mountain and back up, or a trip in her car over to a nearby shopping mall on the outskirts of Chattanooga, where I sat in the car and waited, eyes closed and heart pounding, while she went to the drugstore. I was wet with sweat and tears when we got back, and so weak I had to go home and lie down, but I could do it. Before, I could not have. Soon I was driving my car and she was in the passenger seat, and we began to go farther and stay longer. The trips were hard—I can never tell anyone how hard—but I knew I could do them and the fear would not kill me. On the day in January that we drove all the way to Atlanta and had lunch at a suburban Wendy’s without my taking a single Valium, Corinne announced it was time for me to make a few trips without her.
Instantly the fear was back in all its old, cold weight.
“I can’t,” I whispered. “I can’t do it by myself.”
“I didn’t say by yourself,” she said. “I said without me.
You’re leaning too heavily on me. Get Joe to go with you.
Surely he knows how important this is to you, how hard you’ve worked.”
“I haven’t told him about the trips,” I said, not meeting her eyes.
She said nothing.
When I asked him, he would not go.
“I just can’t, sweetie,” he said the first time. “Midterms 46 / ANNE RIVERS SIDDONS
is the worst possible time for me, what with Carlton and Hank out. Can it wait till early next quarter?”
Early the next quarter he brought a world-famous poet to campus for three weeks of seminars and receptions. It was a great coup, and I could see he could not interrupt the royal visit to drive to a Wendy’s or a Burger King thirty miles away with me.
In March he sprained his ankle playing tennis.
I took a triple dose of Valium and made the first trip by myself, in a white haze of sedation and terror. I don’t know why I didn’t kill someone. The second one I made on two Valiums. My third trip alone I only took one, though the fear was truly terrible. I told neither Joe nor Corinne I had gone alone.
I still saw nothing amiss in Joe’s refusals to go with me.
We truly do see what we need to see, and only that.
In late April, Corinne wanted Joe and me to go away somewhere for a weekend off the Mountain.
“Go to a fancy hotel in Atlanta,” she said, grinning wickedly. “Order room service and drink to excess and screw your heads off. I can vouch for the weekend package at the Ritz Carlton in Buckhead myself.”
I laughed and made the reservation that afternoon. That night, over drinks, I told Joe about it. I thought he would be pleased with my accomplishment, and I knew he liked the Buckhead Ritz Carlton. He stayed there when he was in Atlanta for fund-raising trips with President Day or at alumni functions or SMLA meetings.
“What about it?” I said, leering over the rim of my vodka and tonic. “I could get a new nightgown for you to rip off.
Or something exotic in the way of marital aids. We could rent a porn video.”
He did not speak, and he did not look at me.
“I just don’t think we should both be away at the HILL TOWNS / 47
same time, Cat,” he said finally. “What if…oh, what if Lacey wanted to come home all of a sudden? Wouldn’t you want to be here for Lacey?”
I told Corinne
“You just seem to have extra energy,” he said, when I finally protested mildly. “I thought you might feel like doing some things with me now.”
HILL TOWNS / 45
“Oh, darling, of course!” I cried. “I haven’t meant to neglect you. I didn’t realize I was….”
“Well,” he said, “I know this therapy stuff has been tough on you.”
So I joined the extra committees and went to, and gave, the parties. But I did not cut back on the therapy.
Finally, midway in the second year, I began to make trips off the Mountain with Corinne. Tiny ones, at first; really just drives to the base of the Mountain and back up, or a trip in her car over to a nearby shopping mall on the outskirts of Chattanooga, where I sat in the car and waited, eyes closed and heart pounding, while she went to the drugstore. I was wet with sweat and tears when we got back, and so weak I had to go home and lie down, but I could do it. Before, I could not have. Soon I was driving my car and she was in the passenger seat, and we began to go farther and stay longer. The trips were hard—I can never tell anyone how hard—but I knew I could do them and the fear would not kill me. On the day in January that we drove all the way to Atlanta and had lunch at a suburban Wendy’s without my taking a single Valium, Corinne announced it was time for me to make a few trips without her.
Instantly the fear was back in all its old, cold weight.
“I can’t,” I whispered. “I can’t do it by myself.”
“I didn’t say by yourself,” she said. “I said without me.
You’re leaning too heavily on me. Get Joe to go with you.
Surely he knows how important this is to you, how hard you’ve worked.”
“I haven’t told him about the trips,” I said, not meeting her eyes.
She said nothing.
When I asked him, he would not go.
“I just can’t, sweetie,” he said the first time. “Midterms 46 / ANNE RIVERS SIDDONS
is the worst possible time for me, what with Carlton and Hank out. Can it wait till early next quarter?”
Early the next quarter he brought a world-famous poet to campus for three weeks of seminars and receptions. It was a great coup, and I could see he could not interrupt the royal visit to drive to a Wendy’s or a Burger King thirty miles away with me.
In March he sprained his ankle playing tennis.
I took a triple dose of Valium and made the first trip by myself, in a white haze of sedation and terror. I don’t know why I didn’t kill someone. The second one I made on two Valiums. My third trip alone I only took one, though the fear was truly terrible. I told neither Joe nor Corinne I had gone alone.
I still saw nothing amiss in Joe’s refusals to go with me.
We truly do see what we need to see, and only that.
In late April, Corinne wanted Joe and me to go away somewhere for a weekend off the Mountain.
“Go to a fancy hotel in Atlanta,” she said, grinning wickedly. “Order room service and drink to excess and screw your heads off. I can vouch for the weekend package at the Ritz Carlton in Buckhead myself.”
I laughed and made the reservation that afternoon. That night, over drinks, I told Joe about it. I thought he would be pleased with my accomplishment, and I knew he liked the Buckhead Ritz Carlton. He stayed there when he was in Atlanta for fund-raising trips with President Day or at alumni functions or SMLA meetings.
“What about it?” I said, leering over the rim of my vodka and tonic. “I could get a new nightgown for you to rip off.
Or something exotic in the way of marital aids. We could rent a porn video.”
He did not speak, and he did not look at me.
“I just don’t think we should both be away at the HILL TOWNS / 47
same time, Cat,” he said finally. “What if…oh, what if Lacey wanted to come home all of a sudden? Wouldn’t you want to be here for Lacey?”
I told Corinne
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