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Chapter 6
Eric was taking the baby.
Eric was taking Julie to visit with his parents for the weekend, leaving Bridget all alone. She had been surprised at first, Eric had never really left her alone for an extended period of time, but then Bridget just felt silly. I'm a big girl, why shouldn't he leave me alone? Bridget asked herself. Still though, a lingering doubt stayed in the pit of her stomach.
"I'll be back soon Bee," Eric said softly, gently brushing his lips across Bridget's forehead. She peeked out from under the covers, surprised at Eric's sudden show of affection. He had been so distant lately. Had something changed? Bridget couldn't be sure. Ever since the "intervention" from her sisters Eric had been acted strangely towards Bridget. Does he know something I don't? Bridget wondered. When the girls had come to her they had given her a card for a therapist, telling her to "just check it out". Does Eric know why? Bridget didn't have time to worry; Eric was walking out of the house, Julie in tow. Bridget had to guess that this was some sort of escape for Eric. Going to his parent's house had never been his first priority. In fact, Eric usually tried to avoid his parents at all costs; he even occasionally blocked their phone calls. Is that what I've become? Bridget thought to herself, horrified. Am I the one he's avoiding now? Is he running to his parents to avoid me? Bridget remembered when the roles had been switched; he used to run to Bridget to avoid his parents. Bridget heard the car door slam outside as the garage door creaked open. Bridget jumped out of bed like a flash, running out of the bedroom. She had a fleeting image of her rushing out and stopping the car. She could picture it perfectly; she would stop the car and convince Eric to take her. They would laugh all the way down to his parent's house, with Bridget singing out of tune to the songs on the radio. When they got to her in-laws Eric and Bridget would constantly be making goofy faces over his parent's heads, making a joke out of the entire visit. It would be fun. Bridget pressed her face against the living room window, watching Eric's car pull out of the driveway. I can still catch him, Bridget thought, racing towards the front door. She ran all the way out the door and to the front lawn before she realized that she wasn't that girl anymore.
Bridget woke up in a panic. Her body was drenched in sweat and her breath came in heavy, labored gasps. She bolted upright, grabbing at the spot next to her in bed. It took her a minute to realize that she was reaching for Eric and that he wasn't there. Bridget slowed her breathing as things slowly began to fall into place. Eric and Julie are at Eric's parents. I'm home alone. I'm okay. I'm okay. Bridget told herself. For some reason Bridget had trouble convincing herself of the last part. Why are you fighting this? Bridget asked herself. This is who you are; this is who you chose to be! That thought alone hurt the worst. I chose to be like this. Bridget repeated inwardly. No! Bridget thought suddenly, surprising even herself. This isn't who I am! This isn't who I want to be! I want to be Bee again! Bridget thought, adrenaline running through her body. Then, as an afterthought. I want to be happy again. With this thought racing through her head, Bridget leaned back against the pillows and slowly drifted off to sleep.
It was after midnight when Bridget woke up again, this time calm and tranquil. She had only one thought in her head and she was ready to pursue it at all costs. The words of her old counselor raced through her head. Single minded to the point of recklessness. The words that had defined Bridget so many years ago were just as truthful now. She could almost feel her old self breaking through the disguise she had put on. It scared Bridget, but in a good way. It was after midnight but Bridget was ready, she knew what she was going to do.
Throwing back the covers, Bridget slid out of bed. Her feet hit the ground with a firm, resounding thud and sent shivers racing up Bridget's spine. She dropped to her knees, reaching wildly under the bed until her fingers hit something solid. She grabbed at the box, yanking it roughly towards her. She ripped at the box like a child on Christmas day, unwrapping a present from Santa. The masking tape that she had closed the box with fell in sticky clumps all around her. Bridget didn't care. She reached under the clothes, the pictures, the trophies and everything else until her fingers felt rubber. She pulled out each sneaker, her body reaching out to them like a dog reaching out to a steak. It was as if her body knew what was coming. She grabbed an old pair of socks, pulling them on quickly. The sneakers flew on after that. Bridget jumped up, introducing her feet to the feel of sneakers, the feel of socks, the feel of confinement once more. Kicking the box back under the bed, Bridget began to hop around; prepping for what she knew would be one of the best runs of her life. As she headed out the door something on her nightstand caught her eye. It was the card of the psychiatrist that her "sisters" had tried to get her to call. Without a second thought Bridget reached out for the card, sticking it to the mirror. I'll call in the morning, Bridget told herself, but first I need to do my own kind of therapy. With that Bridget stepped out of the house and let her body choose its own course.