Loving Zara...a 1st story...Part 3

Thanks to folks for the kind comments thus far.


Giving me some (much needed!) courage to keep going.

this story is fiction, i do not condone the spanking of minors, etc.
also please note that this story makes reference to eating disorders, and albeit a bit more vaguely to past abuse/trauma...so if these are in any way an issue for you, please be safe

~~~

I awoke from a restless sleep and looked at the clock.
6:57am.
*sigh*

As usual, I immediately go through the mother's check-list: Isaac had slept over a friend's house and wouldn't be home until late morning; Caroline and Hailey are at their respective colleges in NY, probably sleeping off hangovers I thought ruefully, and both would likely call home later in the day; Zara was down the hall, hopefully still sound asleep.

And husband Taylor -- all sandy-colored hair, 6'2" of him, looking hardly worse for the ware like the strong and lean college basketball captain who'd pursued me in what simultaneously felt like yesterday and several lifetimes ago -- is snoring peacefully next to me.

When Zara had finally fallen asleep the previous night, I quietly left her room to find Tay waiting for me in the hallway.
Wordlessly, he opened his arms, and I gratefully fell into them.
Like so many other times he stayed up late with me, listening, comforting, and offering his gentle wisdom.

As I looked at him now, I thought, as I had so very often in our 25 years together, how blessed I was.
We worked hard to have the strong marriage and true partnership we do.
And tirelessly to raise such beautiful children as we have.
But in this world, it would be foolish to discount the role of sheer luck.

When I brought Zara home that night over a year ago, it was a spontaneous and unilateral decision.
I had been her therapist for the previous 2 years; she was a total stranger to the rest of the family, and they to her.

Tay knew some bits and pieces about her, had noted some time ago that whoever this little girl was, she clearly had a hold on me unlike any other client ever had.

That was for sure.

But despite his initial shock and confusion, his support was simply amazing.
"I don't quite understand it," he said, "but the way you look at her, Jackie, well, it's the way you've only ever looked at 3 others. "
"So, I don't know how we're gonna do this, but we'll figure it out."

It was clearly quite unsettling to the kids as well, yet they too opened their hearts to Zara with such grand generosity.

For the first several weeks, Z was essentially mute, her eyes rarely leaving the floor.

Yet 8-year-old Issac, with his genuinely kind and tender soul, took to her immediately, unconditionally.
He would ask her to play Nintendo with him or some other kind of game, anything that didn't require speaking on her part.
Then, he would come to me soberly asking, "Why is she is so sad, mommy? Do you think she's gonna talk to us soon? I wanna help her."
How do you explain to a child who has never known what it is like feel unloved, to be both thoroughly ignored and badly hurt by those who are supposed to keep you safe?

Caroline was typically preoccupied and stressed with college applications and SATs and AP courses, but would still sometimes just sit with Zara while doing homework, or show her the brochures from schools she was looking at, or tell her about her beloved horse.

Hailey, a college junior and our social-butterfly, who wasn't even able to meet Z in person for several months, would send her all those goofy email forwards there is always an abundance of.

And Taylor, long before Zara would go anywhere near him, said, "There is something about her...that tugs at you, won't let go; I can see why you just fell in love with her."

Yeah, I was damn lucky.

~~~

I was still in bed, slowly waking up from a long, deep, and for once restful, sleep.
There was still the dull ache in my heart--along with that of my bottom!--but for the first time in a while, I trusted that I was safe, that I really could be ok.

That even if I felt the inexplicable drive to jump off that metaphorical cliff again, Jax wasn't going to let me get anywhere near it, no matter how I might kick and claw and fight.

I knew those 'voices of darkness' wouldn't stay quiet for long, but a stronger force had squelched them long enough for my own voice to be heard.

The one that says, "I'm scared."

The one that says, "I don't want to keep doing this...but I don't think I'm strong enough to stop right now."

The one that says:
"I need you to help me."

So simple, so obvious, and so damn difficult to accept.

I looked at the clock.
After 10am.
I would usually be at practice already on a Sunday morning.

But there was a long list of other things to be discussed and 'taken care of' today...

I heard a knock on the door just then.
"Come in," I said in that scratchy first-time-you've-spoken-today voice.
Jax gave me a squeeze and a kiss and sat down, smiling.
"Z, you're awake!" she teased. "How'd you sleep sweetie?"

"Not exactly awake just yet, but pretty well actually."

"Good to hear. And how ya feeling this morning?"

"Wellll, better at least."

Jax nodded her head and winked.

"So. I left messages this morning for Dr. Davison and Abby. And I just got off the phone with Lauren. We can go and talk to her and Dale this afternoon. As long as you're up to it."

Damn, she been busy.

"Are they still mad at me?" I asked softly. "Probably even madder now..."

"No lovey, they weren't mad to begin with. Just very worried about you."

"Sound familiar?"

Just sighed with my patented eye roll.

"Well, Issac will be home in a little bit, and Tay is making us breakfast or brunch really as it happens."

That I would be joining them and eating decently (and keeping it down and etc.) was now unquestionably assumed.

This was all gonna take some getting used to...

"K," I said finally standing up, stretching, and hearing the familiar cracking of various joints.
"Gonna get in the shower and stuff."

"Alright kiddo, sounds good."

She gave a tight hug and closed the door behind her...

- posted by unquiet @ 12:47 PM