~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Ch 16, Oblivion
Eventually, Jane rose from her place leaning against the edge of the sink. A red mark remained on her forehead from resting her head on her joined hands while she tried to compose herself after she came back inside. Her back needed a stretch after staying in that position for the last twenty minutes. She knew Maura had retreated to the bedroom, so she slowly walked away from the kitchen sink and sat, still in her Parka, back in the livingroom, the farthest room from the bedroom. She blankly stared, nothing registered in her view. She was stunned, confused and hurt and she didn't understand anything. She eventually became aware of the soggy fabric wrapping her ice cold feet. She kicked off the wet socks then fished the water bottle from her pocket and sipped as she sat unmoving, staring out to the waves and seafoam border through the big picture window. The only movement inside that room for the next half an hour came from Jane occasionally faintly shaking her head from side to side indicating that she just didn't understand.
She removed the twist cap again to take another sip and immediately thought of Maura leaving that bottle, anticipating her needs. Maura. Always knowing. Why? Why is everything so messed up? That beautiful night last night. Perfection. And it wasn't even real. She tilted the bottle to her lips for another sip. She wanted that feeling to be real. It was more real to her than any other experience she could draw from her foggy memory. She took in another deep breath and let it go. The piercing pain from her rib reminded her that there really was an event that started all this. She did get hit pretty hard in her head. Is this what a doctor would do? If someone lost their memory? Why would Maura bring her here?
Another hour, just staring. Jane finished off her water then squeezed the hollow bottle in frustration, apparently trying to compress it to a space so small that it could nearly fit into its own cap. Failing to make the bottle disappear in her hands by force of compression, she placed the distorted vessel on the end table and listened to muffled popping sounds from the plastic trying to regain its form. Jane still felt sick.
Maura silently came to check on Jane. She was never further than the next room, constantly checking on Jane, knowing Jane did not want to speak to her. Quietly and unnoticed, Maura placed fresh socks at the edge of the end table in the living room. She knew how much Jane disliked a soggy sock.
Half an hour past. Jane removed the parka and finally felt warm but her feet were still cold.
Another hour, just staring. She turned her eyes to her empty water bottle to see that it had mostly reverted to normal form. For a moment she imagined wanting her life to go back to normal form. How? How could that ever be? What's normal anyway? Jane noticed the fresh socks beside her. She huffed lightly and shook her head a bit more. Her feet were feeling cold but she refused to touch the socks. She refused to acknowledge Maura. She couldn't bring herself to believe Maura would let her go on believing they were married. She just didn't get it. She was lost in thinking. Putting pieces in place. Trying to, anyway.
After a little more time, Jane started thinking about the night before she was hurt. The movie, the Frangelico, wanting to kiss Maura, stepping into the water from Bass' water bowl. She looked back over to the socks sitting beside her. She remembered Maura putting the fresh, clean warm socks on her that night. Such loving care. Jane let her mind walk through those memories of Maura and remembered more of those loving, caring gestures. She reached for the socks and put them on.
Maura watched from the bar stool at the counter in the kitchen. She wanted so much to fix everything. To make Jane understand.
More time passed. Maura gently called from the kitchen. "Jane, are you hungry, it's well past time for lunch?"
"No." Jane abruptly called back. She winced at her own harshness then she reconsidered more mildly. "No, Thank you."
Maura caught the correction. She felt a tiny piece of hope that Jane would speak to her soon. Maura noticed the empty, wrinkled water bottle so delivered a fresh bottle to the same end table and silently retreated, again.
She stood back in the kitchen, watching Jane from afar and thought of her game of Counting Coup. This version was much less fun. She dared not approach too closely to Jane in case it triggered more angry outbursts. She would still make sure Jane knew she was there, that she cared, that she was not alone.
Miles away, in Boston, Frankie was finishing up his shift at work when Angela caught up with him. He wanted to ready his car for a long drive, just in case he got a call to go to Jane. He dreaded facing his mother with the big secret he was holding.
"Frankie, How is Jane? I haven't heard from her or Maura for three days. What do you know?"
Frankie really had nothing he wanted to tell his mother about Jane. She had been purposely kept out of the loop. It was basically for her own protection. Both Frankie and Maura knew that if Angela knew the extent of Jane's condition she'd possibly let the information get out to the entirety of the free world. After Jane recovered, Jane would probably tear into her mother for giving her up. If Jane didn't recover, which, according to Maura is a possibility, or if Jane couldn't forgive Maura for allowing that kiss in the kitchen, his Mom would surely freak out about him hiding these facts. His instinct to protect Jane outweighed his fear of his mother's wrath. Frankie looked at his mother and simply said, "I heard from Maura today. They are enjoying the break from the real world."
Angela wasn't willing to accept such a curt answer from Frankie. She was one who always wanted, even felt entitled to, all the details. Her busybody reputation wasn't earned by not pressing for answers.
"Frankie, how is Jane feeling? How is her broken rib? Didn't Maura tell you anything else?" Angela blocked his path with her arms crossed preventing his escape.
"Ma, Jane is healing. They are fine." After all these years, he still had trouble getting his mother off his back when she was on a mission.
"Well, what else did Maura say? When are they coming home?" Persistence was in her genes. Frankie knew it. But Frankie felt he was the keeper of the secret and was valiant in his role.
"They'll be home when they get home, Ma. Just be glad Maura is willing to put up with Jane's whiny complaining. We are all lucky Maura is a doctor and cares enough to put up with all of us."
"Well, Maura is a dear. And you watch your tone with me, Mr." She pointed at his chest. "And you are right about Jane being difficult at times." Angela started to smile. Finally, Frankie said something to stop his mom from trying to grill him further.
"Frankie, do you remember that time when Jane got strep throat in high school? I think she was fifteen. Oh my, she was a bigger diva than Beyonce seems to be, needing all the attention."
"Yeah, Ma, I remember. Every time Jane got even a cold it was like the world was ending." He squinted his eyes and tilted his head, "Ma? Why didn't you make the world stop when I got a cold like you did for Jane?"
"Oh, Frankie, Janie was different. She still is. She's so sensitive and never wants anyone to know it. She always tries to be so strong, to pretend she doesn't need love. But whenever she got the flu, she let me take care of her like I wanted to." She wrapped her arm around Frankie. "You boys always let me baby you and care for you. The only time Jane ever let her guard down was when she was feeling sick. That's the only time she let me mother her. And I just need to know she is being cared for." She looked to the distance, unfocused. She really was worried about Jane. Angela's wistful look caused Frankie to lighten the moment.
Frankie smirked and said, "What do you mean always let you baby us all the time? I'm tough."
"Yes, Frankie, you are tough. But Jane, Jane is tough too, on the outside, but inside she is soft and squishy and beautiful. I wish she didn't hide that side of herself. She fights that so much." She lovingly dusted Frankie's shoulder.
She paused, imagining Maura dealing with Jane not feeling well, she nodded her head and the softest smile appeared on her face, "Maura does care about Jane. She would make sure she was ok. And I'm sure she'd let us know if there was something wrong." She pensively looked into Frankie's eyes. "It's so hard to be a parent sometimes. You'll find out, Frankie, soon enough, when you are a dad and give me some grand-babies."
"C'mon Ma! Not that again." He skirted away from her toward the exit. Frankie shook his head in acknowledgement. "Ok, Ma, I'm heading out for the day. My shift is over." He kissed his mother and walked toward the door, checking his phone for a new text from Maura. There were none.
"Well, if you hear anything else, you need to tell me." Angela drew in a deep breath. She loved all her children.
Jane became aware of Maura in the kitchen when she heard sounds of cooking. She sat still and didn't acknowledge Maura in the room behind her. She looked around and realized that it was nearly dark out. She checked her watch. It was after six. She'd been sitting there a long time and had finished that second bottle of water. She had to pee. To do that meant she'd have to walk right next to Maura in the kitchen. She wasn't ready to do that so she stubbornly waited. And waited. After awhile, she could smell the food Maura was making and she knew it was pasta. Seconds earlier, she heard the telltale sounds of the noodles going into boiling water and remembered the conversation at the grocery store when Maura wanted fresh pasta noodles and Jane talked her into the dry kind like her mom makes. She could smell the onion and garlic cooking. Bacon? What is Maura making? Jane tried to use her detective skills to discover that answer. She did start to feel hungry by now, and, she still had to pee.
Finally, she stood and wordlessly walked passed Maura as she cooked.
Maura knew not to speak. She knew to wait for Jane to make contact. The things Maura knew about Jane would have filled an encyclopedia. Maura paid attention. She knew Jane enough to not push. And Maura knew that being steady around Jane when emotions were flying high was the better move to make.
When Jane passed by the kitchen on her return trip, she glanced briefly at the ingredients on the counter but went straight back to her spot in the livingroom.
Maura continued to prepare the meal. Whether Jane would eat it or not, the pretty blonde wanted it to be ready in case Jane might want it after all.
After Jane sat down, she tried to distract herself from being so angry and confused by deducing what Maura was cooking for dinner. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a new bottle of water in place of the previously emptied bottle. Suddenly, she was pissed again. Was Maura cooking this meal right now to persuade Jane to start talking with her? Was Maura toying with her again by being so nice and thoughtful? Jane thought Maura thought that cooking a meal for her would make her talk. Well, it wouldn't.
"I know what you're doing, Maura." Jane sat on the couch unmoving, yet, talking.
Maura heard her, but didn't understand her meaning. "Jane, I'm cooking dinner. I know you said you weren't hungry, but I will be soon so I'm making enough for the two of us." Then Maura added, "Just in case you change your mind." She didn't want Jane to think Maura assumed anything.
Jane said nothing, after a few moments, she knew what Maura was preparing. The carrots, mushrooms, celery, white wine...She knew. It was bolognese sauce. Her mom's recipe, with the bacon. Her favorite. She was pissed. She felt manipulated. She wanted to leave, but she didn't have a car. She wanted to call her brother, Tommy to come and get her, but her phone was in the bedroom. She refused to walk past Maura again.
Oblivious to Jane's current distress, Maura continued to prepare the meal.
Jane stewed in her seat. She wanted answers but didn't even know the questions. She started to build a list in her mind.
Reaching deeply into her detective's toolbox, Jane continued to reason out what was going on and to try to mentally build the list of questions to sort. Jane's mind was pressed to capacity. She was already exhausted from trying to recover from her injuries. The chip on her shoulder that appeared once she registered that Maura actually lied to her became an enormous obstacle to rational thought. If Maura could lie, then all she believed about the world was in doubt. If she could no longer trust Maura, there was no meaning to anything. If she couldn't trust Maura, she was alone.
Jane's body was fighting her. Jane's mind was fighting her. The only person she would think to go to was Maura and now she couldn't. After all this, she could never reveal her frailties to Maura. Now Maura was just like the rest of the takers in the world, Jane pushed her feelings for Maura to the outside. She couldn't let Maura keep her special place anymore. Jane tried to steel herself but she struggled. The cold air she'd suffered the last couple trips outside really had settled into her body. Her hands had been shaky since she came back into the house. Her heart quivered. Jane wouldn't give Maura the satisfaction of knowing how she was feeling and giving Maura the perceived upper hand. Jane knew she was making no sense, but she couldn't help it. Nothing made sense at that moment.
Jane was stubborn when she wanted to be. All she wanted to do was find a way to get warm and relax, but she couldn't. There would be no relaxing for Jane until she understood what had happened to her memory and why Maura took her far away to a cottage on the beach in the heart of winter.
Ok, Jane thought, there is question number one. Why did Maura bring her to an isolated place when she had obvious memory loss? Which begged question two, why not a hospital? Isn't that where a person goes when they get knocked in the head so hard that they can't remember their own life as it was? In Jane's experience, Maura would never do anything to harm Jane. Knowing that fact and still feeling confused as to the situation frustrated her. Jane tried to line up what she knew as facts against what she knew now were false imaginings. No coherent thoughts were sticking with her. She needed to write this down. Her thoughts slipped away as soon as she conjured them.
The delicious aroma of the meal Maura was preparing was distracting. Jane hadn't eaten anything since very early that morning. Her belly was burning. She closed her eyes and took in a breath then let it flow out of her. She thought of the last meal she ate that morning, in bed, where Maura carried breakfast in on a plate and fed her. Then her thoughts went to the last night and the way Maura touched her. That was love. There was nothing NOT loving about the way Maura touched her. In even her dreams, she never imagined the intensity of the desire she felt for Maura less than twelve hours ago. She experienced the purest love and adoration from Maura as the delicately stunning blonde made love to her in the most exquisite and beautiful fashion. How could THAT not be real? She closed her eyes and relived the moments covered in moonlight in that tiny cottage bedroom... Jane pinched her eyes shut. She was so confused.
She heard Maura in the kitchen, "Jane, dinner is ready. Would you like some?" She wanted to say no. She wanted to scream. She wondered, in what kind of twisted, surreal world was she living. She was too exhausted. She knew if she didn't eat something, she'd be an even bigger mess than she was right then. The last thing Jane wanted was to need Maura to take care of her if she let herself become ill.
After a beat, Jane relented, "Yeah, I should eat something." Jane stood and walked over to the kitchen. She avoided eye contact with Maura and reached for an empty plate, not the fully loaded plate sitting on the island she suspected Maura had already put there for her. She wasn't ready to let Maura do anything else for her.
Maura simply observed, grateful that Jane decided to eat. It was torture for Maura knowing how much agony Jane must be experiencing over all of this. She watched Jane put food on her plate. The only sounds were of silverware clinking against ceramic dishes. A sound so familiar was now harsh against the heaviness of emotion in the air. Maura wanted to speak, to get a conversation started, but she knew Jane needed time. Maura was so close, she wanted to rush to Jane to comfort her, to hold her, but she held back. Once Jane's plate was full, she returned to the living room without a word. Maura finished her meal at the island. She knew Jane was feeling incredible distress. Once Maura was done with her meal, she retreated to the bedroom. Maura felt incredibly alone and empty inside. She felt as if she'd done everything wrong. She needed reassurance. She needed advice about what to do to help Jane. Maura closed the door and reached for her cell phone.
In the livingroom, Jane cleared her entire plate without stopping for a drink. It must have been delicious considering the way she raced to clear the plate, but once she was finished, she couldn't remember what it even tasted like. She pushed the empty plate onto the table beside her and picked up the water bottle. That bottle that never stayed empty, somehow, had been repeatedly replaced or refilled or maybe Jane's broken mind was imagining it all. It seemed to Jane that she'd kept drinking from that bottle all day like Mary Poppins kept pulling big, huge, giant never-ending stacks of stuff out of her suitcase. She paused for only a moment to acknowledge in her mind once again how Maura always anticipated her needs. She could hear Maura's voice from a memory telling her the importance of drinking enough water throughout the day. She shook the memory away then drained nearly half the bottle before returning it to the table beside her. She looked around the room and felt her head starting to spin. She closed her eyes and put her hands on her head.
Jane's thinking was unclear. In an instant, her heart was racing and her nerves were misfiring. She couldn't focus. Jane lifted herself wholly up onto the couch and curled into a tight ball, holding her own knees up to her chest. She was frozen there, trying to breathe normally, riding out the anxiety she was feeling. Jane felt angry that she couldn't seem to control her own emotions anymore. She felt sick. She had no control over anything anymore. Anxiety was taking her and there was no way she knew of to stop it. She felt like accusing Maura of toying with her. She was embarrassed and worried that all the moments they shared these past few days meant more to her than they meant to Maura. Was Maura simply placating her? Pretending so as not to upset her while she thought they were married? Jane hated that thought. Fleeting, disconnected flashes of memories bounced around in her head as her near frantic breathing failed to bring enough oxygen to her system. The nightmarish episode peaked then diminished. Her breathing finally started to normalize and the reverberation in her chest from her pounding heart was less overwhelming. She glanced quickly toward the kitchen to be sure Maura hadn't seen or heard what was happening to her. Slowly, Jane relaxed. Still shaking, she pushed a breath out and mumbled to herself, "Where is that head-shrink? What is taking so long?" Jane wanted to know what was happening with her, what had happened to her. She didn't feel at all like herself.
Once back into her own after that fit, she unfurled her body across the length of the couch. She reached to the floor to slide her parka up and across her legs in a flaccid attempt to warm herself. Jane let her body sink deeper into the cushions of the couch. Her verve exhausted, Jane fell asleep.
Sitting on the bedroom floor with her back pressed against the side of the bed, Maura's hushed, quaking voice was not registered in the livingroom. "I thought I could do this. I can't. I've ruined everything." Maura had called her doctor friend. She didn't even have the strength to be angry with Dr. Swen anymore. It wasn't Rachel's fault that Jane reacted the way she did. Maura carried all that blame herself. All Maura could do was plead with the doctor to come and fix it. Fix Jane. Fix herself. Fix the two of them together. "All I've ever wanted with Jane is gone! Days! My life started and ended in a matter of days, Rachel. Please. I need you now. Here. Get here. I need her Rachel. Please bring her back to me. I need Jane." After a few moments, Maura disconnected the call. She sat on the floor quietly sobbing.
Maura pulled herself together and wiped her face dry. Her head ached. She took herself to the living room to check on Jane one more time. She saw that Jane had fallen asleep. With Jane's injuries, Maura wanted to offer the bed to Jane, but now that Jane was sleeping she didn't want to interrupt this flawlessly magnificent, incredibly tortured woman's much needed rest. Maura could see that Jane had been crying too. Maura's guilt hit her with the force of a mile-wide asteroid crashing into earth. The crushing heartbreak Maura was feeling was unbearable. Maura put a blanket over Jane then picked up her wet socks from earlier and her empty dinner plate from the end table to take it to the kitchen. Maura's tears were flowing again as she delivered another bottle of water.
Retiring to the bedroom, Maura struggled to sleep. Her thoughts held her captive.
A few hours later, Jane woke up. All that water she drank had to go somewhere. She went toward the bathroom but stopped in the hallway when she heard the sound of Maura crying. Maura was saying things to herself, almost like arguing with herself between sobs. Jane couldn't understand a word, but that didn't matter. Jane's heart instantly clenched at the thought of Maura hurting in any way. That's not what she wanted. Jane was angry with Maura and questioned her motives. Jane felt completely lost in her own disconnected, scrambled memories but never did Jane wish for Maura to hurt.
Jane reached for the door handle to the bedroom. Her hand nearly to the knob, she stopped herself from touching it. She held her place while she reacted to her natural compulsion to protect Maura. Jane loved Maura. She was just so confused and she knew she wasn't behaving kindly to Maura. She couldn't help her behavior and she didn't understand. She didn't have anything in her tank to confront Maura and thought she'd just make things worse if she tried to talk about anything with Maura considering she had no clue about a thing with how jumbled her own thoughts were.
Jane considered going into the bedroom with the pretense to get her pain medication from her suitcase just to get a peek at Maura, but threw that idea out too. Part of her wanted to throw her arms around Maura and comfort her to tell her everything was going to be alright. But she wasn't even certain of that herself. She was certain of nothing. So, although, she was feeling some discomfort from her rib and the pain medicine would have stopped the physical hurting with the nifty bonus to help her to sleep faster, she just couldn't bring herself to face Maura in that moment. Jane quietly turned to the bathroom and, once she'd washed her face and brushed her teeth, went back to the living room then covered herself with the blanket she knew Maura must have put over her earlier. She threw the parka on top of the blanket. Nerves combined with cold weather warranted the extra covering. She would have to wait until Maura's doctor friend came before she attempted any conversation with Maura. Jane needed answers, Jane needed this 'head' doctor to fix her and make her memories whole so she could then sort the intense emotion and intimacy she'd experienced between Maura and herself.
Confusion and fear in one room, guilt and loss in another, eventually, exhaustion pulled them both to sleep. In separate rooms across the tiny cottage, the two women spent their first night apart in nearly two weeks.