Fox River Read Free Page A

I didn’t open my eyes. I raised a leg, then an arm. I was so relieved. I can’t tell you how relieved I was. I hadn’t even broken anything. Then I opened my eyes.”
    “And you couldn’t see.”
    Julia had told her mother all this in the hospital where she’d been taken after the accident, but she continued, needing, for some reason, to repeat it. “I thought, how strange. I must have been here for hours. Callie must have ridden back to get help and they can’t find me. I thought it was night, but such a black, black night. As it turns out I was unconscious for less than a minute.”
    “Does it help to go over this again and again?”
    “Nothing helps. The fog doesn’t lift. It doesn’t even waver. And you know what the worst moment was? Worse than waking up blind? When they told me there was nothing wrong with my eyesight. Conversion hysteria. I’m a hysteric.”
    “You’re a wonderful, sensitive, intelligent woman. You’re not a psychiatric label.”
    “I’m in a psychiatric clinic! Maybe it has fireplaces and antiques, but it’s still a clinic for the mentally ill.”
    “You shouldn’t be here.”
    Julia realized she had to tell Maisy the rest of it. “There are things you don’t know.”
    “Well, you’re not the first to say so.”
    Julia tried to smile but couldn’t. “Before this, before I even saddled Duster that day, things hadn’t…hadn’t been going well.”
    Maisy was silent. Julia knew that if she could see her mother, Maisy would be twisting her hands in her lap. The hands would be covered with rings. Maisy loved anything that sparkled. She loved bright colors, odd textures, loose flowing clothing that made Julia think of harems or Polynesian luaus. She was a focal point in any crowd, the mother Julia’s childhood schoolmates had most often singled out for ridicule, a bright, exotic flame in a community of old tweeds and perfectly faded denim.
    “You don’t want to hear this, do you?” Julia asked.
    “Julia, I’m sitting here waiting.”
    “You never want to know when things aren’t going well, Maisy. If you wore glasses, they’d be rose-colored.”
    “No doubt,” Maisy agreed. “Cats’-eye glasses with rhinestone frames, and you would hate them. But trying to keep a positive attitude isn’t the same as refusing to see there’s another side of life.”
    Julia felt ashamed. She loved her mother, but there was a gulf between them as wide as Julia’s twenty-nine years. She had never quite understood it and doubted that Maisy did, either. How two women could love each other and still be so different, so far apart in every way, was a mystery.
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to criticize.” Julia started back toward the bed, or thought she did. “It’s just that I don’t want to make this worse for you….”
    “Let’s make it better for you, instead. Tell me what’s been happening. And move a little to your left,” Maisy directed her.
    Julia adjusted; her shin contacted the bed frame. “I’m going to need a white cane.” The last word caught.
    Maisy took her hand and helped her sit. “Has Dr. Jeffers given you a prognosis?”
    “No. He rarely speaks during our sessions, and when he does, he just asks questions. Why didn’t I seek help when the problems started? Why do I think I’m being so defensive? Why don’t I want my husband involved in my treatment?”
    “Would Bard like to be involved?”
    “I doubt it, but I’m sure he’s never told the doctor outright.”
    “Tell me about the problems you mentioned before.”
    “I was having blinding headaches.” She smiled grimly. “Pardon the pun.”
    “The doctors know this?”
    “Yes. They’ve scanned every inch of my brain, done every test a neurologist can dream up, called in every specialist. They can’t find anything physical.”
    “What else?”
    “I…” Julia tried to decide how to phrase the next part. “My work was suffering.”
    “Your painting?”
    Julia nodded. “I had a