RENEWAL

PART ONE

by Karen

     Dr. Abrams walked down a hall of the immense hospital. He had just come from his weekly scheduled psychological evaluation of a woman suffering from depression. She had lost her husband and her twin daughters, and when he first started treating her he didn't know if she'd recover. Luckily, she did seem to be making progress, the doctor thought, as he remembered what she had told him during this most recent evaluation.
     "I used to think I was cursed. Whoever I cared deeply about was destined to leave me. My mom, my dad, and then my foster parents. But now, I'm starting to think that Chris and the twins are watching over me from Heaven. You know, protecting me. Is that silly, Dr. Abrams?"
     "No, of course not, Rita. I think you may be right. I'm glad to see you're taking a healthier outlook on life."
     He had been so relieved to hear her say that. Rita had been severely depressed when he first talked to her...
     It had been at the beginning of spring, but the weather in Boca Raton had been balmy and warm for weeks. Abrams had been in his office when a woman who was a Medical Examiner at the hospital called him for advice. "Keisha! What a lovely surprise!" he had exclaimed when he heard her voice over the phone. "What can I do for you?"
     "Dr. Abrams, I need your help," she said with a waver in her voice. "Do you remember that I told you my friend in Palm Beach had been murdered? You know, the police sergeant I worked with?"
     "Yes, of course. How tragic. He left behind his pregnant wife, right? Didn't you say that you had invited her to stay with you for a while to give her a chance to get away from Palm Beach and all the memories?"
     "Yes, you see, that's why I'm calling. The changes she's been through are starting to scare me. She lost her twins about a month ago, and she's just not the same person that she was before. She doesn't eat, she doesn't sleep..."
     "Keisha, the woman lost her husband and children within months of each other. You cannot expect her to just bounce right back, laughing and smiling. Give her a break."
     "It's more than that. She loved Chris so much. They had been best friends for more than five years before they got married. They were so happy about the baby, especially when they found out that it was going to be twins.
     Whenever she had had problems in her life, Chris was the one she always went to, even before she went to me. How can I help her get through this, Dr. Abrams? I miss the old Rita."
     "Lots of time and your strength are the best help. She will never forget her husband or her children, but she will learn to get on with her life. Trust me."
     Dr. Abrams had felt confident that Keisha's friend would recover. After all, she wasn't the first woman to lose her family. A week later, however, another phone call from Keisha made him doubt his own prognosis.
     "Doctor? I need you to help us now," Keisha had said. Abrams could hear faint crying in the background. Keisha herself sounded like she had been crying, too.
     "What's going on?" Abrams demanded.
     "Rita had been doing a little better so I let her look through some of her picture albums. I thought that if she told me some stories behind some of Chris' pictures it would help her heal."
     "Okay, that sounds like a good idea. What happened?"
     "While she was telling me a story, she fell asleep. I covered her up and left her to sleep on the couch. She woke up about ten minutes ago screaming. I thought she had had a nightmare and went to see if she was okay. She said something about Chris being alive, something about her being able to still feel him with her. I felt terrible but I had to tell her that he wasn't alive and she had been dreaming. She's been inconsolable ever since, and then I called you. Dr. Abrams, I don't know what to do," Keisha said, crying. "She's too nice a person to have to go through all this. She doesn't deserve it."
     "No one deserves bad luck. I understand your problem and I can help. Can you bring her to my office later this afternoon? Maybe speaking with me will calm her."
     Keisha had agreed, and the two women had arrived at the hospital's psychiatric unit that afternoon. Rita had composed herself and spoke calmly with Dr. Abrams about her life as a police officer and her friendship with Chris. Dr. Abrams realized that the bond between Chris and Rita was much stronger that he had previously thought.
     "Rita, I hate to do this to you, but I have an appointment in five minutes. I have to break this up. I'd love for you to come in again and tell me more about Chris. I have heard of Sergeant Lorenzo, but never had the pleasure of meeting him. He sounds like a great person."
     "He was," Rita said softly, a tear slipping down her face. "I'd like to come in and talk to you again. Is next week all right with you?"
     After checking his schedule with his secretary, Abrams made an appointment with Rita. The women got up to leave.
     "Rita, you go on. I want to ask Dr. Abrams something," Keisha said.
     After she left, Keisha smiled at Abrams and shook her head.
     "How did you know that she would never agree to see you regularly as a patient if you'd just told her you wanted to help her?"
     "Rita struck me as very independent on the outside and very lonely and unhappy on the inside. I can help her but she has to want me to help her."
     "I hope you can." Keisha picked up her purse and followed Rita out of the office.
     Right at 2:00 the next Wednesday afternoon there had been a knock at the door of Dr. Abrams office.
     "Come in," he called.
     Rita walked in, holding a picture album. Her eyes were red and she held a Kleenex to her nose. Dr. Abrams jumped up and put his arm around Rita's shoulder.
     "Rita! Are you all right? Come, sit down. Would you like something to drink?" He touched a button on his phone and spoke to his secretary in another office. "Carol, can you bring us some coffee, please?"
     "Oh, please don't go to any trouble for me. Really, I'm okay. It seems like I'm crying all the time now. Please don't worry about me."
     A red-haired woman opened a door in Dr. Abrams office carrying a tray with two coffee cups and a coffee pot. She saw Rita's tear-stained face and, without a word, put the tray down and hugged Rita. Smiling, Rita hugged her back and thanked her. As the door closed behind Carol, Dr. Abrams said affectionately, "She may be the most caring woman on the planet. She's used to seeing tears in here, and she always hugs the ones who look like they need a hug."
     "She was right; I did need one."
     "So, Rita Lorenzo, what have you got there?"
     At the sound of her married name, Rita remembered the minister at her wedding who had said "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Lorenzo." That had been the first time she had heard someone other than herself say that out loud, and she and Chris had burst into laughter.
     "Rita, this has got to be a perfect match," Chris said, smiling. "Even with your new last name your initials won't change. Rita Lee Lance to Rita Lee Lance Lorenzo. You won't have to get new monogrammed stuff."
     Lost in her thoughts, Rita didn't hear Dr. Abrams call her name until he stood up and touched her on her shoulder. She jumped and blinked her eyes.
     "Oh. I was just...remembering," Rita said sadly.
     "Can you tell me about it?"
     "Oh, it was nothing. What were you saying before I spaced out?"
     "I asked what you had in your hands. A photo album?"
     Rita looked blankly down at her lap and saw the black leather bound book. All the memories of Chris were in that book. Suddenly her mind was filled with the sound of his voice, the blue of his eyes, the smell of his hair. She buried her face in her hands, remembering all that she'd had and all that she'd lost. Abrams held her hand and patted her back and just let her cry. After a few minutes, Rita looked up and wiped her eyes. With her breath hitching in her chest, she said, "Dr. Abrams, I'm sorry. I don't think I can talk about it now. Forgive me."
     "Rita, I really think that you need to talk about him. Obviously you've been bottling up your feelings inside for quite some time. You don't always have to put on a happy face for everyone's benefit, you know." Seeing her face harden, Abrams said, "I'm just trying to--"
     She cut him off and stood up. "I know. Just trying to help. Well, I appreciate the offer, but the only one who can help me is dead. I'm sorry to have taken up your time," she said flatly. She picked up her purse and appointment book and walked to the office door.
     "Rita."
     She stopped in the doorway. "Yes?" she asked, without turning around to face the doctor.
     "Will you come back when you feel like you can talk?"
     "I don't know when that will be. Can I call you?"
     Abrams smiled. "Of course. Next Wednesday at two?"
     She nodded and left. Abrams sat back on the couch, watching the space where she had just been. He went to his desk and touched the button on his phone.
     "Carol, please schedule Mrs. Lorenzo for weekly sessions. Wednesdays at 2:00."
     Carol's voice was thin and metallic. "Yes, doctor."

PART TWO...

Questions? Comments? Criticisms? Smart remarks? Email me at kdl@gulf.net. Just write "Karen's Story" on the subject line. Oh, and by the way, if you really hated this story, don't bother to write and tell me. I'll probably just ignore you. Thanks.

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