It brought up the question of school, which Bailey said was still months away. She wasn’t ready for that yet, or to go back to her career, which Whitney was still leery of. The final decision on that would be Emma’s, if she wanted to pursue the acting career her mother had fostered since she was six years old. Whitney realized that it might be important for her. She didn’t want to deprive her of it, or push her into it, as Paige had done. And her skills weren’t solid enough yet for work or school.
She thought about it that night, alone in her room, and played a DVD of episodes of Emma’s series on her TV. In the months since the accident, Whitney had been so worried about Emma’s survival and the damage to her brain that she had forgotten how challenging some of her performances were. She hadn’t had an easy role on The Clan and Whitney was stunned as she watched, remembering how talented Emma was, how smooth her delivery. It really was in her blood, and Whitney could see now what Paige had seen in her child, and why she had encouraged her with all the lessons and coaches. Emma had a gift, and at the end of the episode she could also see how different Emma still was now, how stilted and halting her speech and what a struggle for her it was at times. She had come a long way in the past five months, but seeing the DVD made it clear how far she still had to go. There were subtle differences in her abilities and her personality. The exuberance she’d had only six months before was gone, the sharpness of her memory to learn extensive lines, the complexity of her ability to play chess against adults. She had come out of the mists, and the coma after the accident, but there were many subtleties of her brain function that Emma hadn’t regained yet, and perhaps never would again. It made Whitney want to help her even more, and suddenly her participation in Bailey’s brain injury conference made sense, and she felt she had something to contribute to it, using Emma as a living example of what a person with a brain injury had to deal with every day and how those who loved them and cared for them could help.
She called Bailey the next day and told him that she would speak at the conference. He was thrilled, and she had two weeks to prepare. There was so much they all still needed to learn about the brain, particularly after traumatic injury. She worked on her presentation every night after Emma went to bed, and she hoped she could do the subject justice. It was all new to her, except what she had learned through experience with Emma in the past six months, and she had so much more to learn.
As she started preparing her presentation, she thought of Chad briefly. This was the time of year she’d gone to the Caribbean with him on his boat for the past five years. It had been exciting and fun and luxurious. Now she’d been catapulted into parenthood with a brain injured child, and there were no trips on yachts in her future. She felt like a whole different person, but it did cross her mind once after Christmas.
She was working on her speech for the conference when Amy Clarke contacted her and asked her to see another patient for her. It was a child with encephalitis, some of whose symptoms resembled Emma’s. The cause of the child’s damaged brain was different, but there were clinical similarities, which Whitney found fascinating. She consulted with Amy and Bailey after she saw the patient, who was a thirteen-year-old girl. Whitney thoroughly enjoyed working with them, and she found the addition of neurological evaluations to her practice added depth and substance to her work life. She told them how much she enjoyed the cases they referred to her, and they fully agreed with her diagnosis of the patient. She found that she liked working with Amy as much as she appreciated Bailey’s help with Emma. Amy was cooler and more clinical, which Whitney found stimulating, and she thanked both of them for the opportunity to consult on their patients. Their faith in her was flattering, and the cases challenging.
“Be careful, or we’ll be dragging you into the practice with us,” Bailey warned her, and Whitney laughed at the suggestion, thinking he didn’t mean it. They were already an efficient team.
“I’d love that,” Whitney commented. “The neurology cases are much more complex than what I see in my practice with straight psychiatry. This adds a whole additional element I find fascinating.”
“We need your psychiatric expertise at times. You can’t ignore the psych side of brain injury,” Amy persisted. “I’ve been saying that for years, although there is some real resistance to it in neurology circles, particularly around brain injury cases.” It was the essence of what Whitney was planning to present at the seminar Bailey had invited her to, and she felt as though she was heading in an important direction. It had added some real excitement to her work, and she and Bailey talked about it for hours, whenever he dropped by to see Emma, or have dinner with them. And Amy was respectful of Whitney’s perspective too.
“What are you doing for yourself these days, by the way?” Bailey asked her one night and she looked blank.
“What do you mean?”
“That’s my point. You’re with Emma all the time, or at work, or working on your research paper. When was the last time you went out to dinner or saw a movie, or did something you enjoy doing?”
She looked startled at the question. “I don’t know. I haven’t done anything since before the accident, I guess.” She hadn’t even had a manicure since July. “I really don’t have time now that I’ve got Emma to take care of.” It reminded her again of her trips on Chad’s yacht, which were ancient history now. She had no regrets.
“You have you to take care of too. Try not to forget that,” he said gently. His concern for her took Whitney by surprise. They were allies in Emma’s recovery, but she didn’t expect him to think about her, and her need to relax and have entertainment.
“I’ve got too much on my plate right now to think of anything else except Emma, my patients, and your seminar.” She smiled at him. It was the truth.
“When was the last time you had a vacation?” She smiled at that.
“The day of the accident. I was back in twenty-four hours. I used to go away at least once a month with a man I was dating. We used to go to Saint Barts in the winter, and Italy in the summer on his boat. It was a nice, easy, self-indulgent life. That’s why I always said I never wanted kids. But I’ve got Emma now and all of that has changed. No time, no desire, no one to travel with. No more yachts in my life, borrowed or otherwise.” She sounded matter of fact about it, and didn’t miss it.
“What happened to him?” Bailey felt like he knew her well enough now to ask, and he could see that there were no diversions in her life, not that he could detect anyway. She was all about duty and responsibility, her work and her sister’s child. She was the most unselfish person he’d ever met.
“He took a hike, or maybe I sent him on one when I told him I wasn’t going to institutionalize Emma to get her off my hands. He doesn’t do kids. He has four grown ones of his own that he never enjoyed much. He wants a trouble-free, responsibility-free adult relationship with a single woman and no kids. I no longer qualify. So that was that.”
“That’s a little cold, isn’t it?” Bailey said, looking shocked.
“I guess so. I thought so, but he was honest about it. He never pretended to want anything different. And as I pointed out to him, love is messy sometimes. It doesn’t come all wrapped up in a neat little package. You can’t control everything in life. My sister taught me that in spades. I thought she was crazy when she decided to have a baby with a friend and no partner. You couldn’t have paid me to do that. But maybe she was right. I don’t like the way she exploited Emma and became the stage mother of all time, but maybe she gave Emma something wonderful in the process. She helped her develop her talent, and she loved Emma passionately. Maybe that’s what love is about, doing something crazy with all the energy and passion you’ve got. Until the night she screwed it all up and didn’t put her seatbelt on, I don’t think there was any doubt how much she loved her daughter, for better or worse. So I don’t mind at all that I’m not having vacations on yachts right now, or going to the ballet, or to Italy in the summer. My life may be a mess at the moment, I don’t even have time to go to the hairdresser right now, but so what? Emma and I love each other, and she’s better than any fancy vacation or adult relationship I might have had. I’m not hurting, Bailey. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. Maybe my flaky, slightly crazy sister was right, and I was the one missing the boat in life, until now.” He could see that she meant it, and seemed satisfied with her life. There was no question how much she loved Emma, and was willing to sacrifice for her.
“You don’t sound angry at your sister anymore,” he said with interest.
“I still am sometimes. Every time I see Emma struggle or suffer. She’s the one paying the price for her mother’s mistake, and it makes me mad. But I’m fine. I don’t miss anything I’ve given up. I just wish she’d put their goddamn seatbelts on, but who knows why she didn’t. Careless, tired, busy, distracted. Oddly, I’m not even as angry at my father anymore either. I never wanted to marry because I hated the way he ran my mother’s life and controlled everything. It looked like a nightmare to me, and I never wanted some guy doing the same thing to me, telling me what to do. I always thought that was why my mother died so young. But now I wonder if she was happy and she enjoyed it. She had a fabulous career, thanks to him, and maybe having a ball till she got sick at fifty-two was enough for her. We all have to decide how we want to lead our lives and what love means to us. Love always looked too difficult to me, like you had to pay too high a price for it. Right now, love means a nine-year-old child to me, even if she’s got a brain injury and may never recover fully from it. We’ll manage somehow, and if it’s messy and I don’t have time to get my hair done, that’s okay. I think Emma’s worth it.”
“It’s funny, I always felt the same way. My parents’ lives were so destroyed when my little brother almost drowned that I never wanted kids of my own after that, as I told you on the phone that night. It looked too painful to me, and it was for them. I wanted to help other children like him, but I never wanted to take a risk with a child of my own, or get married. But watching you with Emma, I realize that the only way to live is with your whole heart, despite the dangers and the risks. I admire you for taking it on, and doing everything you can for her. Suddenly having kids and taking a chance on love doesn’t look so scary. It’s a lot scarier being forty-two years old and never having had the guts to take a chance on love. Just working isn’t enough.” He said it as though it were a recent revelation for him.