what happened.
The “incident” has all but paralyzed Grace and she would do anything—stand on her head naked if this Dr. Bayer woman wanted her to—to get back the little pieces of her life that she has given away.
“Terrified,” Grace tells herself. “I am absolutely terrified.” Thank God her mother and father have been mostly out of touch for the past six months while living in Australia, where her father has been teaching an ornithology class and her terribly traditional mother has been doing what she always does—standing by to assist.
Grace knows that her mother, who actually wears makeup while bird-watching, would be appalled if she knew about the “incident.” It was bad enough when Grace divorced. Her mother would never speak to her again if she found out about the incident and that made it even worse. The mental pressure is so intense that Grace has started getting headaches for the first time in her life. Even though she’s exhausted and dripping in what she thinks is the last of her estrogen, she knows she really doesn’t have a choice but to get her act together.
Before she walks to the back bedroom that used to belong to her older daughter, Megan, and is now her garage sale–outfitted office, Grace glances at Kelli, who is immersed in a reality-TV trance. Her friends tell her that one easy daughter—well, up until Megan’s partner-girlfriend-I’m-gay thing surfaced—is a blessing. Kelli is normal, they say. She’s pushing the limits, testing, trying to do things to get you to flip out so you’ll be the one to act stupid.
Stupid, Grace knows, would be to lose everything she has worked so hard for her entire life—this tiny, outdated house, her overwhelming job, the one moment a month when Kelli does something lovely, like crawl into bed with her on Sunday morning so they can read the paper together.
On her way through the kitchen, Grace picks up the dishes, wipes off the counter, locks the door, and takes a chance by running her hand lightly through Kelli’s hair as she walks past.
Kelli reaches up at the last second and barely brushes the tips of her mother’s fingers.
This is what Grace will think about the next time Kelli does something insanely stupid, which could be any moment. She’ll try harder, she will. How difficult can it be?
The moment she gets into her office she all but tears open the envelope from Dr. Bayer:
Grace, not every class will be held at the county building. You have an assignment. Next week, instead of class as a group, your assignment is to spend three hours in a row by yourself. You must not call another person, take notes, or do anything except one thing that you love to do for yourself. Only you know what that might be. You have a week to complete this task. You must tell me what you did, how you felt, and send me an email by one week from today. The next class details will follow once I have your assignment .
Sincerely, Dr. Bayer .
Seriously? Grace looks around to make certain there isn’t a hidden camera somewhere. This Dr. Bayer must be an impostor! In all her years of working in the medical field, Grace has never heard of anything like this. She’s thinking maybe she should Google this cotton-wearing woman and see if she’s for real.
But what puzzles her even more than the strange assignment is that she can’t think of one thing to do that doesn’t include another human being for three solid hours in a row. And yet, for the first time in weeks, she’s almost glad she was angry.
8
The Green Dot
L ess than a mile away, Kit is sitting alone at her kitchen table tossing the envelope from hand to hand as if it were a hot potato. During the past six weeks, since she returned from her mother’s and from the mess she created there, she has spent a lot of time sitting alone at the kitchen table.
The old wooden table that came from her uncle Joe’s estate is her land of exile. Tonight it’s especially lonely because Peter won’t be home,
The “incident” has all but paralyzed Grace and she would do anything—stand on her head naked if this Dr. Bayer woman wanted her to—to get back the little pieces of her life that she has given away.
“Terrified,” Grace tells herself. “I am absolutely terrified.” Thank God her mother and father have been mostly out of touch for the past six months while living in Australia, where her father has been teaching an ornithology class and her terribly traditional mother has been doing what she always does—standing by to assist.
Grace knows that her mother, who actually wears makeup while bird-watching, would be appalled if she knew about the “incident.” It was bad enough when Grace divorced. Her mother would never speak to her again if she found out about the incident and that made it even worse. The mental pressure is so intense that Grace has started getting headaches for the first time in her life. Even though she’s exhausted and dripping in what she thinks is the last of her estrogen, she knows she really doesn’t have a choice but to get her act together.
Before she walks to the back bedroom that used to belong to her older daughter, Megan, and is now her garage sale–outfitted office, Grace glances at Kelli, who is immersed in a reality-TV trance. Her friends tell her that one easy daughter—well, up until Megan’s partner-girlfriend-I’m-gay thing surfaced—is a blessing. Kelli is normal, they say. She’s pushing the limits, testing, trying to do things to get you to flip out so you’ll be the one to act stupid.
Stupid, Grace knows, would be to lose everything she has worked so hard for her entire life—this tiny, outdated house, her overwhelming job, the one moment a month when Kelli does something lovely, like crawl into bed with her on Sunday morning so they can read the paper together.
On her way through the kitchen, Grace picks up the dishes, wipes off the counter, locks the door, and takes a chance by running her hand lightly through Kelli’s hair as she walks past.
Kelli reaches up at the last second and barely brushes the tips of her mother’s fingers.
This is what Grace will think about the next time Kelli does something insanely stupid, which could be any moment. She’ll try harder, she will. How difficult can it be?
The moment she gets into her office she all but tears open the envelope from Dr. Bayer:
Grace, not every class will be held at the county building. You have an assignment. Next week, instead of class as a group, your assignment is to spend three hours in a row by yourself. You must not call another person, take notes, or do anything except one thing that you love to do for yourself. Only you know what that might be. You have a week to complete this task. You must tell me what you did, how you felt, and send me an email by one week from today. The next class details will follow once I have your assignment .
Sincerely, Dr. Bayer .
Seriously? Grace looks around to make certain there isn’t a hidden camera somewhere. This Dr. Bayer must be an impostor! In all her years of working in the medical field, Grace has never heard of anything like this. She’s thinking maybe she should Google this cotton-wearing woman and see if she’s for real.
But what puzzles her even more than the strange assignment is that she can’t think of one thing to do that doesn’t include another human being for three solid hours in a row. And yet, for the first time in weeks, she’s almost glad she was angry.
8
The Green Dot
L ess than a mile away, Kit is sitting alone at her kitchen table tossing the envelope from hand to hand as if it were a hot potato. During the past six weeks, since she returned from her mother’s and from the mess she created there, she has spent a lot of time sitting alone at the kitchen table.
The old wooden table that came from her uncle Joe’s estate is her land of exile. Tonight it’s especially lonely because Peter won’t be home,
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