BOSTON—July 2001
Kersti follows the home care nurse down the hall with a terrible feeling of dread. Cressida has massive brain damage and very little awareness, Deirdre warned her in preparation for this visit. It’s the first time since Cressida fell that Deirdre has allowed Kersti to see her, although her acquiescence has come with plenty of warnings. She’s not the Cressida you knew. There’s very little brain function. Expect the worst.
Kersti just wants to see her. The last time they were together was in the dining room at Huber House, right after Cressida got the ledger from Amoryn. No one could have predicted the catastrophe that lay ahead, the complete derailment of life as they knew it. It’s three years later and Kersti still isn’t over it. In spite of her best efforts, she hasn’t quite managed to move on or fill that void. Cressida, of course, will never move on.
Now just a few feet away from that long-overdue reunion, Kersti is terrified. She’s done some research on the Internet about vegetative states, trying to find the most optimistic information and best-case scenarios. Though most victims show no outward signs of awareness, some do recover an “inner voice.” Kersti desperately wants to believe this will be the case for Cressida; that she might still be in there.
The nurse opens the door and the first thing Kersti notices is how bright the room is. The blinds are wide open with sunlight pouring in, as though its rays might miraculously restore Cressida’s health. An adjustable hospital bed is set up in the middle of the room with one of those sliding tables and a bedpan on the floor. The TV is on—a soap opera—which Deirdre is watching. Cressida lies there, absent.
Cressida. The sight of her like this is almost more than Kersti can handle. She forces a smile, which feels overwrought and inappropriate.
“Kersti,” Deirdre says, noticing her in the doorway. “Come in.”
Kersti approaches the bed. She’s brought Villars chocolate bars and Ovomaltine, which she found at the Swissbäkers in Boston. They were Cressida’s favorites.
“You can set those down on the table, Kersti.”
Kersti does as she’s told and musters the courage to look at Cressida, really look at her. Her first thought is, No one is there. She’s gone. Remarkably, she’s still gorgeous. A living ghost, ethereal and far, far away. Deirdre is obviously still tending diligently to her appearance. Her hair is freshly washed—Kersti can smell the expensive shampoo—and she’s wearing makeup. Maybe Deirdre did this for Kersti’s benefit. It’s something she would do; fix her up like a doll to make a good impression. Maybe she does it every day.
“Hey, Cress,” Kersti says trepidatiously, reaching for her limp hand.
Cressida’s eyes follow the sound of Kersti’s voice. She blinks and stares up at Kersti’s face.
“Wipe her chin, will you?” Deirdre says. “There’s a cloth right there.”
Kersti reaches for the cloth and wipes her best friend’s chin. And just like that, tears start rolling down Cressida’s cheeks.
“She’s crying,” Kersti says, feeling her own tears beginning to form.
“This must be too painful for her,” Deirdre says, jostling Kersti aside. “This wasn’t a good idea. I had a feeling—”
“She recognizes me,” Kersti says.
Cressida’s tears are still flowing freely, though not a sound escapes her lovely lips.
“She doesn’t want to be seen like this,” Deirdre surmises, wiping her daughter’s tears. “She wouldn’t want any pity.”
Kersti isn’t sure how Deirdre knows this. Who can possibly know what’s inside Cressida’s locked mind?
“You have to leave now, Kersti.”
“Can I come back?” Kersti asks, as Deirdre steers her brusquely out of the room.
“I hope so,” Deirdre says. “I’ll be in touch, dear.”
But Kersti knows she won’t be. And as she steps outside onto Beacon, she breaks down and cries. She’s not sure what’s worse—being thrown out by Deirdre, or seeing what’s become of Cressida. She’s not sure she’ll ever recover from either.
When she finally manages to collect herself, she pulls out her map of Boston and starts heading toward Charles Street, where Aleks is waiting for her at a coffee shop. She walks quickly, wanting to get as far away from what just happened as she can. All she can think is, Why did the sight of her make Cressida cry?