Warner emails Louise the link to the Myers-Briggs personality test. He sets her up with someone in Kansas who finds her aptitude for certain careers. A librarian or some sort of nurse come up a lot. Warner encourages her when she talks of going to graduate school, seeing new physical therapists, starting a part-time job. He imagines her doing light clerical work, something that keeps her mind occupied, makes her feel productive. But he doesn’t want to pressure her, doesn’t want her to think she’s not already succeeding. He waits for her phone calls and tries to be enthusiastic about whatever she’s done that day.
Elizabeth mails Louise packages of inspirational books about women overcoming obstacles. She gets on the line with Warner when Louise calls, tells her the latest family news—who adopted a baby or whose birthday is coming up. She invites Louise to come back to Michigan for quick weekend trips, to see fine museum exhibits and eat in the best restaurants. Elizabeth wants to help Louise enjoy things.
•
Janet comes to visit Louise, and Louise suggests that they have a drink after dinner. On the walk to the bar Janet is worried that Louise, weaving all over the sidewalk, will fall. On a street corner Louise says, “Mom, would you mind if I had a cigarette? We’re both adults, right?”
“Right,” Janet says, and watches Louise light it, cupping her hand in a practiced way.
After a few minutes of smoking, Louise says, “This is too weird, ha ha!” and throws the butt down and stomps on it. As they order drinks at the bar, Janet cannot think of what to say to her daughter. She would like to tell Louise about her new website at work, or maybe her house renovations, how she is painting the outside steps yellow. But when she looks at Louise, all she can do is wonder how she is really doing. She doesn’t know if she can bear the answer. Louise is drinking gin and tonics very fast. She remembers the present she got for Louise’s 23rd birthday, some comfortable clothes and a poster. “That’s it?” she’d said. “This is my present?”
Every time Janet and Louise are together, whether out shopping or on their way to a doctor’s appointment, Louise makes Janet follow a few steps behind her on the sidewalk. “How does my walk look?” she always asks, sometimes several times a day. Janet always answers with, “Better! Much better!” but in truth it is hard to tell. Louise cannot walk in a straight line, and her limp is still significant. But it might be better than three months ago, when she first moved into her own apartment. Janet wonders if Louise asks her friends how her walk is when she’s out with them. She has friends, doesn’t she?
•
Louise takes a recreational-therapy test called, “Recreation Is Where You Find It.” It says she needs to resocialize herself. The directions are to check boxes marked Frequently, Occasionally, or Never, next to statements. One section is called Social Interaction, with questions like:
—I invite friends to visit my home
—I seek new friends
—I write letters
—I attend parties
—I attend club meetings
—I go to parades
—I make social telephone calls
I never go to parades, Louise thinks to herself.
The test results say she needs to volunteer somewhere. She could choose a hospital off the list. Other choices are: the zoo, a meals-on-wheels van, a church daycare, or homes of shut-ins.
•
Lately Janet has been talking a lot about her boyfriend, the doctor, whom Louise does not like. Janet goes on and on about how much she loves their after-dinner walks and Saturday gardening. He’s an Eagle Scout, she tells Louise.
“We never fight,” she says. “He is so easygoing. Not like your father, who would want dinner ready when he got home every single night. Now we just both eat bread and cheese if we feel like it.”
Janet goes on. “His body is so warm. I could just snuggle up to him for the rest of my life.”
Louise does not like listening to this.
“How did you meet this guy?” Louise says to Janet on the phone. She is lying on her bed, looking at the dirty ceiling.
“Your grandparents introduced us, he’s their doctor, isn’t that funny?” Janet says.
Louise thinks that is weird. She thinks: You are not allowed to have a boyfriend. She thinks: You should be 100 percent focused on your daughter’s suffering. She wonders what her mother would say if she said these things out loud.
•
Another quiz lands in Louise’s inbox. It is titled, “Spectator Appreciation” (check Frequently, Occasionally, or Never):
—I watch television
—I attend movies
—I travel or go sightseeing
—I go to a ball game
—I watch car racing
—I people watch
—I see stage plays
—I notice changes in buildings and landscapes
There is a list of activities organized into categories: Nature (appreciative), e.g., yard work, organized wilderness trips, county, state, and federal parks; or, Nature (sportsman), e.g., fishing (lake, stream), ice fishing, bow hunting, hunting, chartering a fishing boat, or taxidermy (you’ll never know until you try it!); dating is under the Social Activities category, as is: Going to a coffee shop, waffle lunch, or having an at-home spa day. Louise has already thought about dating. She is trying to figure out who would want her now.
•
A therapist at the rehab center tells Louise to look in the mirror every morning and smile ten times. Your brain and body need to learn to communicate with each other again, he says. He tells her to take a third quiz. The quiz is called: “Do These Prevent You from Enjoying Life?”
—Often I don’t feel like doing anything
—Work is the main priority
—I don’t think leisure is important
—There won’t be enough money for me to do what I want
—I won’t have the physical skills
—I won’t have enough free time
—I don’t know what is going on or what is available
—There is no one to do things with
—Following through on my intentions is difficult
—Social situations are awkward for me
—I never feel well enough
All right all right! Louise thinks. Enough!