“Oh, Daddy. There’s no easy way to say this so I’ll just come out with it. I don’t think I’m alone.”
“You’re not alone,” he said. “You have a mother who loves you, family members who love you, and you have me. I would lay down my life for you.”
I shook my head. “You’re not following me. You know how you keep saying that you didn’t have anything to do with that woman?”
“I didn’t have anything to do with her,” he insisted.
“And you know how no one believed you back then?”
“Don’t remind me,” he hissed. “They still don’t believe me but I hope you do.”
I nodded. “I can’t explain what happened and why that woman showed up there that day but if you say you didn’t have any involvement with her, I believe you.”
He slapped his hands together. “Thank goodness. I would never do anything to harm you and your momma, baby.”
“I believe you,” I repeated. “Now you have to believe me when I say—”
“When you say…?”
“I honestly never did any of those things. I know you think I was doing them and just not owning up to them. That I had some sort of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde personality but that wasn’t it. I had another personality altogether.”
He was stumped. “Come again?”
“Daddy, when I say I’m not alone, I mean that I’ve come to realize that another person lives within me.”
“Another person lives within you,” he slowly repeated my words.
“Yes.”
“And who is this person?”
I could tell he couldn’t grasp it, simply by the look on his face and the way the words slurred out of his mouth.
“I don’t know who she is. I just know that I have these blackouts and when I come back, so to speak, things have changed, people are accusing me of things I never did, I’m wearing clothes I never put on, things are misplaced or moved around my apartment when there was never anyone else there. The list just goes on and on.” I didn’t want to get into the sex thing with Daddy. No woman feels comfortable talking about sex with her father. Even though I realized
“Jonquinette, listen to me carefully,” Daddy said. “You need to get immediate help. I tried to tell your mother this years ago, but she didn’t want to hear it. If you need me to, I’ll call someone for you. I’ll go back to Atlanta with you; whatever it takes.”
I reached across the table and took his hand. It was trembling, or maybe it was my hand that was actually wobbly. “I already found someone, Daddy. She’s the one who suggested I reach out to you.”
“A doctor?” he asked.
“Yes, a psychiatrist.” I nodded. “Her name’s Dr. Marcella Spencer and she’s wonderful, Daddy. I really think she can help me but I can’t face all of this without you and Momma.”
“Does you mother know you’re seeing a doctor?” he asked.
“No, but she’s about to find out. I’m sick of secrets.”
“So you want me to come to Atlanta?”
“Yes, but not until I have a chance to talk to Momma about it.”
He smirked. “Good luck. Meredith probably won’t be able to stand occupying the same room with me.”
I knew he was right. “Then she’ll have to get over it. Momma means well but she’s self-centered and it’s time for her to consider people other than herself. The two of you are my parents and, while I am grown, I still need you both.”
Daddy and I spent the remainder of the day discussing the past: the good, the bad, and the ugly. When Flower came home close to dusk, we lightened up and headed for the front porch for a night of joking around on the swing.
The next day I went to church with them and cried like a baby the entire time. I hoped that I didn’t scare Flower but she seemed to understand that I was cleansing my soul. Oftentimes, children identify with things better than adults.
After joining the parishioners in the church hall for their routine Sunday potluck dinner that started directly after church, I said my good-byes, told Daddy I would be in touch shortly, hugged Flower and wished I could take her with me, and headed out of town.
When I arrived back in Atlanta, hunger had reared its ugly head, so I stopped by a deli to get a chicken Caesar salad. I checked my messages and there were several from Momma, three from Mason, and one frantic one from Marcella stating that she needed to talk to me right away and that I could call her at home if it was after hours. She left her home number but it was late and I was drained. I had an appointment with her the following afternoon so I decided to wait, get some rest, and get ready to deal with Mr. Wilson and his demands the next morning.
All the next day, I was anxious to get through my workload so I could make a beeline for Marcella’s office. I even called to see if I could come in an hour earlier than normal and her secretary said it would be fine.
When I got there, I couldn’t stop talking about how wonderful it was to see my father. She sat there and studied me hard and I was confused that she wasn’t saying anything in response.
After I had filled her in, including telling her all about Flower, my wonderful little sister, she finally cleared her throat and said, “That’s extraordinary news. I’m glad you and your father have reconciled because you’re really going to need him in the months ahead.”
I didn’t like the way she phrased it. “What do you mean?”
“Did you get my phone message?” she asked.
“Yes, I got it last night but I didn’t want to bother you at home so late on a Sunday evening.”
“You can call me anytime, Jonquinette. As a therapist, I recognize that my patients often need me outside of standard office hours. There are some doctors that refuse to deal with patients during late evenings or the weekends. I’m not one of them. To me, that shows a lack of true dedication on their part.”
“Thanks for saying that. I appreciate it.”
“No need for thanks. Like I said, it’s all a part of my profession.” She got up from her desk. “Jonquinette, it’s such a pretty day for late September. Why don’t we take a walk?”
“You mean, leave the office,” I said uneasily.
She giggled. “Yes, I think the fresh air might help.”
Her remark about “fresh air” tickled me. After just returning from the pure country air of Trinity, the smog, fumes, and litter of downtown Atlanta didn’t seem too alluring to me.
I got up anyway. “Sure, that would be nice.” I glimpsed at the wall clock. “But my hour is almost up.”
“That’s not a problem and don’t worry about paying for extra time. I wouldn’t even consider accepting it.”
“Don’t you have another patient?”
“No, I don’t. My boyfriend wanted to do dinner tonight but we can make it a late one.”
That was the first time I had heard Marcella refer to her personal life. I was always curious about what made her tick. I knew she didn’t wear a wedding ring but that didn’t mean she wasn’t married. Numerous people don’t wear their rings. Some misplace them accidentally and some misplace them on purpose. Since she said she had a boyfriend, that answered that question.
We ended up walking around the block several times. I was concerned that someone might eavesdrop on our discussion, not that they knew who we were. There was a statue in a community park and I asked if we could sit on
