“Is that all?” Stella asked, wiping her eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“Is she schizophrenic?” Joel asked.
“I don’t think so. For the most part, she understands reality and does not engage in false beliefs, with the exception of an occasional bout of paranoia. She does not hear voices. It is difficult to determine how she would act in social settings since she has not been released from here. But, no, I do not diagnose your mother as schizophrenic. Severely depressed, yes.”
Stella said, “Eighteen months ago our mother was fine, or at least she certainly appeared to be. Now she’s suffering from what sounds like a severe nervous breakdown. What happened, Doctor? What caused this?”
Hilsabeck was shaking his head. “I don’t know. But I agree with you in that it was something traumatic. From what I gather, Liza and the family managed to survive the news that your father was missing and presumed dead. His return was a joyous event, one that I’m sure brought great happiness, not severe depression. Something happened. But, as I said, she is not very cooperative and refuses to go into her past. It’s quite frustrating, really, and I fear that we may not be able to help her until she is willing to talk.”
“So, how is she being treated?” Joel asked.
“Counseling, therapy, a better diet, sunshine. We try and get her outside but she usually refuses. Barring any more bad news, I think she will progress slowly. It’s important that she sees you.”
“What about medications?” Stella asked.
“In this business, there are always rumors of antipsychotic drugs in development, but they appear to be years away. When she’s not sleeping or overly anxious we give her barbiturates. Also, an occasional pill for high blood pressure.”
There was a long pause as Joel and Stella absorbed the words they had been desperate to hear for so long. The words were not encouraging, but perhaps they were the beginning. Or, the end of the beginning.
Joel asked, “Can you put her back together, Doctor? Is there a chance she can one day go home?”
“I’m not sure home is a good place for her, Mr. Banning. From what I gather, it’s a rather dark and somber place these days.”
“You could say that,” Stella said.
“I’m not sure your mother can handle more bad news at home.”
“Nor can we,” Stella mumbled.
Dr. Hilsabeck suddenly stood and said, “Let’s go see Liza. Please follow me.”
They marched down a long hall and stopped at a window. Below them in the distance was a grove of trees and a series of wide walkways around a small pond. Near a pretty gazebo a lady sat in the shade, in a wheelchair, with a nurse close to her side. They seemed to be chatting. “That’s Liza,” Hilsabeck said. “She knows you’re coming and she’s eager to see you. You can exit through that door.” He nodded and they backed away.
Liza smiled when she saw them. She reached for Stella first and pulled her close, then did the same with Joel. The nurse smiled politely and disappeared around a corner.
They maneuvered the wheelchair to a park bench and sat facing her. Joel held one hand, Stella the other. They had braced themselves for how terrible she might look, so they tried to appear unsurprised. Pale, extremely thin and gaunt, and with no makeup or lipstick or jewelry, nothing to remind them of the beautiful and vivacious woman they knew and loved. Her sandy-colored hair was graying and pulled back into a bun. She wore a thin white hospital gown and her bare feet were exposed.
“My babies, my babies, my babies,” she said over and over as she clutched their hands and tried to smile. Her eyes were so disturbing. Gone was their color and exuberance, replaced by a hollow, unblinking stare that, at first, did not meet their eyes. She cast her eyes down a few inches and seemed to be looking at their chests.
Minutes passed as Liza mumbled about her babies while Joel and Stella patted her gently and tried to think of something to say. Assuming any conversation was good, Joel finally said, “Dr. Hilsabeck says you’re doing great, Mom.”
She nodded and said softly, “I guess. Some days are good. I just want to go home.”
“And we’re going to take you home, Mom, but not today. First, you’re going to get well, you’re going to eat better, get some sun, do whatever the doctors and nurses tell you, and then one day soon we’ll take you home.”
“Will Pete be there?”
“Well, uh, no, Mom, Dad will not be there. He’s gone, Mom. I thought the doctors told you this.”
“Yes, but I don’t believe them.”
“Well, you should believe them because Dad is gone.”
Stella rose gently, kissed her mother on the top of her head, and walked behind the gazebo, where she sat on its steps and buried her face in her hands.
Thanks for nothing, sis, Joel thought to himself. He began a windy narrative about nothing, or at least nothing to do with the obvious fact that they were sitting in the garden of an asylum with their mother, who was mentally ill. He talked about Stella and her upcoming return to Hollins for her junior year, and her plans to land a job in New York. He talked about his own decision to enroll in law school. He was accepted at Vanderbilt and Ole Miss but was thinking of taking a year off, maybe to travel. As he gabbed, Liza heard his words and lifted her eyes as if soothed by his voice. She smiled and began to nod slightly.
He wasn’t sure about the law and therefore might take a break from his studies. He and Stella had spent time in D.C. and enjoyed themselves, and he had met a friend there who owned a restaurant and had offered him a job.
After a good cry, Stella returned and joined in the one-way conversation. She went on about her time as a nanny in Georgetown, and her upcoming courses, and her plans for the future. At times, Liza smiled and closed her eyes as if their voices were a pleasant narcotic.
The clouds disappeared and the midday sun beat down with a fury. They pushed her wheelchair to a shaded area under some trees. The nurse watched them but kept her distance. During a lull, Liza whispered, “Keep talking.” And they did.
An orderly brought sandwiches and glasses of iced tea. They arranged their lunch on a picnic table and encouraged Liza to eat. She took a few bites of a sandwich but showed little interest. She wanted to listen to their lovely young voices, and so they talked, tag-teaming and always careful to keep their stories far away from Clanton.
Long after lunch, Dr. Hilsabeck appeared and suggested that the patient needed some rest. He was delighted with the visit and asked if Joel and Stella could return the following day for another round. Of course they could.
They kissed their mother good-bye, promised to be back soon, and drove to Jackson, where they found rooms at the stately Hotel Heidelberg in downtown. After checking in, they set out on a walk to the state capitol and back, but the heat and humidity were too much. They retreated to the coffee bar, asked the waiter about alcohol, and were directed to a speakeasy behind the hotel. There they ordered drinks, and tried not to talk about their mother. They were tired of talking.