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That evening, Lola, Audrey, and Max drove back to Susan and Scott’s place to speak with Willa. On the way, Lola called Willa’s new psychiatrist, a woman named Sheena Collins, to ask her to be present. Sheena, who’d seen first-hand the confusing hurricane Willa’s head had been over the previous weeks, agreed whole-heartedly, asking that they meet in Susan’s driveway beforehand to allow her to catch up to speed.
Sheena Collins looked to be in her late forties with thick, horn-rimmed glasses and curly, short hair. Her coat seemed three times too big for her, like a sleeping bag she could carry around with her everywhere. When she leaped into the back of Lola’s car to greet them, her tone was confident yet gentle, something you wanted to hang onto during the darkest times.
Audrey launched into what she had recently learned about Willa’s situation back in her Boston suburban community and her belief that the loss of her husband contributed to Willa’s break with reality. Sheena listened intently, taking notes and asking appropriate questions when needed.
“Is it appropriate to just tell our Aunt Willa what the reality is?” Lola asked as her brows furrowed. “Or will it confuse her too much?”
“The trouble I’ve had with Willa thus far is there was no real understanding of the past forty-five years of her life. She left the island as a young child, and she returned as an adult. The gap was so sinister, and she couldn’t help us fill it.” Sheena’s eyes latched onto Audrey’s. “It seems like you’ve found a way to at least lead her mind to that gap, stare into it, and start to understand what went wrong. As devastating as it might be for her, it’s absolutely necessary to get to the next stage of her mental health journey.”
Max coughed himself awake there beside Sheena in the backseat. Sheena’s eyes widened in sudden fear as Audrey scrambled out of the vehicle and then back in to lift Max out of his seat. It was funny seeing this woman several years older than Audrey, with all the education in the world, to not know what to do about a baby’s presence.
As Sheena slipped out of the car, she admitted it. “My sister has a toddler as well, and I must admit that I feel ill-equipped. The way she handles him and speaks to him and sings little songs with him... It’s a funny thing. I spend my days with some of the sickest people on the island. And then my nephew tries to get me to sing, ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat,’ and I’m at a complete loss.”
Audrey bobbed Max against her little frame gently and gave Sheena a warm smile. “I never pictured myself as a mother, either. It just kind of happened. And now, I guess, the little things become so natural. I’ll be singing ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat’ in no time.”
Sheena nodded firmly and toyed with the engagement ring on her right finger, something Audrey hadn’t noticed previously. It was a strange thing to think about the enormous backdrop of a psychiatrist’s life— their own problems, their own fears.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think my fiancé hired you to say that,” Sheena teased quietly. “It’s funny all the things we’re afraid of in life, isn’t it? And yet, time happens to us regardless.” She gestured up toward Susan’s house, where Willa unknowingly awaited them. “Let’s help Willa. You can see it in her face, what kindness and love she has within her. I can’t imagine what evil people created this world for her. She never deserved it.”
They found Willa at the kitchen counter with Kellan, her mouth half-filled with uncooked cookie dough and a big wooden spoon in hand. Her stirring was powerful, seasoned, and her laughter was filled with joy as Kellan flipped through modern radio stations, showing off his favorite R&B songs and pumping his head in time.
“This kid is teaching me how to be hip,” Willa told the others. After a moment, however, her eyes found Sheena’s, and the corners of her lips curved downward. “Hi, Sheena,” she greeted timidly as she placed the wooden spoon against the side of the mixing bowl. “If you wait just three minutes, we’ll have fresh cookies.”
Susan’s footsteps sounded from the top of the circular staircase. In a moment, she appeared, her brunette locks swept back behind the shoulders of her cream-colored turtleneck. “Hi there,” she greeted them. “Shall we sit in the dining room?”
A few minutes later, the oven beeper sounded. There was the gentle tap of the baking tray as Willa placed it on the stovetop. The sinful smell of Christmas cookies, freshly baked, rushed from the kitchen doorway. Audrey placed Max delicately back in his carrier and splayed her curls behind her ears in anticipation.
When Willa appeared in the doorway of the dining room, she held a large platter of just-baked cookies. Audrey could envision this same woman performing just this action, time and time again, throughout her days as a stepmother to Harvey’s daughter, who’d died, and then as a beautiful and devoted wife, one who’d longed to create a marriage just as prosperous and loving as her parents’ marriage had been deceitful and dark.
We’re all trying to fight against our instincts, Audrey thought then. But sometimes, time drags us under.
Sheena used what seemed to be clinical, psychiatric-approved language to begin the proceedings.
“We understand that you’ve had a difficult time since your arrival to the Vineyard,” she began. “As we discussed in our meetings, you’ve entered a state of psychosis, which, at your age, is ordinarily brought on by some sort of trauma. When we attempted to dig into your memories, your mind resisted.”
Willa nodded as her eyes glistened.
“Do you want to know what happened to you?” Sheena asked. Her voice was gentle and coaxing.
Willa closed her eyes tightly and inhaled deeply. “I think it’s the only way through,” she admitted finally. “I feel like there’s this great big crater where my heart should be.”
Audrey passed Sheena the envelope she’d brought to her mother’s, in which she had placed several photos of Harvey Jackman from the internet, including the one from the golf outing and the vacation he’d taken with Willa during happier years.
Before Sheena showed Willa the photographs, she said, “You’ve been involved in a tragedy, Willa. A real tragedy that shouldn’t have befallen anyone, and certainly not a woman as kind and loving as you. I’m going to say a name to you. And I want you to know that as you understand this name and understand what happened, we’re here for you. The medicine is working within you. Soon, clarity will give you a fresh start. Okay?”
Willa’s smile waned still more. Her skin was the color of crepe paper.
“About thirty-five years ago, you married a man named Harvey Jackman,” Sheena said as she slid the photograph from their beach vacation toward Willa.
Willa’s lips parted with shock. Her eyes glowed with tears as she lifted the photograph to eye level and seemed to gaze directly into Harvey Jackman’s eyes.
“My God...” Willa shook her head ever-so-slightly, her face lined with disbelief. “Harvey...”
It didn’t take long for the truth to fling out from the back alleys of Willa’s mind. The next half-hour was a flurry of words, stories told and told again as Willa described the events that had led up to and proceeded after Harvey’s death at the plant.
“I told him I didn’t want him working there any longer,” she started to explain, her words staccato. “But he said we only had a year left till his retirement when we could do whatever the heck we wanted. I’d already retired from my work within the school system, as there had been cut-backs and they just didn’t have space for me up there any longer. This meant that all I did, every damn day, was go on my walks, read my books, and worry myself to death about Harvey’s safety up at that godforsaken power plant. And then one day, I got the phone call saying there had been an accident.
“Naturally, the power plant immediately said that the accident was Harvey’s fault.” Willa closed her eyes against the pain of it all as tears cascaded down her cheeks. “I spoke with a lawyer around then, but things were quite foggy after that. Even around the funeral, I had to step into a side room to deal with these penetrating thoughts. I couldn’t figure out where I was when I stepped out of the side room. Someone had to put me to bed. Someone suggested I’d just drank too much.”
Audrey’s heart swelled with sorrow. She reached across the table and placed her hand delicately over Willa’s. Willa made no motion to move it. “That Greenwich Power Plant seems to have been the site of many, many deaths over the years— even ones that they attempted to cover up,” she began.
Willa’s eyes were hollow with this news. “I told him not to go back there,” she recited.
Audrey glanced back toward her mother, who shook her head delicately. Perhaps talk of a lawsuit belonged to another day. Today was about the emotional toll of losing someone you loved with your whole heart and mind— someone you’d tied your story to for thirty-five years until ultimately, disaster meant you had no story any longer.
“How are you feeling, Willa?” Sheena asked after a couple of minutes of silence.
Willa gestured around her temple and exhaled. “I still have these strange thoughts stirring. It seems like my brain wants to shove this knowledge to the side again and live in the reality I created for myself.”
“That will happen,” Sheen affirmed. “It’s a natural thing that your mind wants to protect you.”
“I’m going to fight it,” Willa breathed. “I want to stay in this reality. I want to hold Harvey close to my heart with my memories. It feels like ages since my brain knew his name. Yet here it’s been the whole time.”
“The mind is a funny thing,” Sheena told her. “It can play terrible tricks on us. And there’s sometimes no telling why. In fact, it’s estimated that scientists only understand how about ten percent of the brain works. That gives us a whole lot of room for error.”
Willa puffed out her cheeks and glanced toward Audrey once more. “How did you learn about all of this?”
“It was something you said,” Audrey whispered. “It made me start digging.”
Willa’s eyes shone with tears. She then directed their attention to the photograph of the golf outing, where Harvey Jackman beamed with life and vitality. “He was so pleased this day. We raised two hundred thousand dollars to fight children’s cancer. Gosh, when we lost his little girl... It tore us both up inside, but Harvey was never the same after that.”
“I had no idea you had a stepdaughter,” Susan lamented, her eyes heavy. Only just that year, she herself had become a stepmother, something she’d probably never thought she’d ever become. Life threw many curveballs, that was for sure.
“I loved her to bits,” Willa breathed. “We had such a unique friendship, just the two of us. When I was first dating and figuring out what I wanted my life to be, I told everyone that I didn’t want children. I remember it so clearly now. I thought for sure that I would turn out just like my mother.” Willa closed her eyes against the heaviness of this sorrow. “But when Gretchen looked at me, she gave me all the love in the world. And it made me consider for the first time that maybe, I didn’t have to be like my mother. Maybe I’d never been like her. Maybe, in some small way, I’d always been more like Anna. Filled with love and hope for whatever future I could bring.”
A few moments later, Willa admitted that she was exhausted and wanted space and time to think alone. She thanked the Sheridan girls and Sheena for this safe passage back to the truth, then stood on quivering legs and headed for the guest bedroom. After the door clicked closed behind her, Lola, Susan, Sheena, and Audrey sat with bated breath. Max kicked his little feet in his carrier, seemingly sensing the tension in the air above him.
“It’s going to be a long road,” Sheena breathed. “But this was one of the first steps forward.”
“Thank you for your help,” Susan said hurriedly. “I can’t imagine how that might have gone without a trained professional.”
“It’s really nothing,” Sheena replied. “If you have any other problems over the next few days, please don’t hesitate to call me. Willa and I have another appointment right after Christmas. We’ll go through more mechanisms together so that she can train her brain not to go into that dark place again.”
As Sheena gathered her coat, gloves, and hat, Susan’s phone began to buzz on the countertop in the kitchen. She hustled to go grab it, leaving Audrey and Lola alone in the dining room. Audrey exhaled all the oxygen from her lungs and gazed up at the mistletoe in the far corner of the dining room, which, hilariously, Kellan had noticeably avoided like the plague since Susan had hung it up.
“You did a good thing today, kid,” Lola complimented. “Finding the story and naming the truth is never an easy thing. But this was especially difficult. It has links to my mother, Anna. It’s lined with a horrible family tragedy.”
“Sometimes, I ask myself how anyone has the strength to keep going,” Audrey replied then. “When I found out that I’d basically failed the semester, I walked around with stones in my stomach for days. I felt like such a failure. What happens when— when real tragedy happens?”
Lola’s eyes filled with tears as she laced her fingers through Audrey’s over the tabletop. Audrey could feel the pain behind Lola’s eyes— could practically feel the eleven-year-old version of her, who’d lost her mother to a boat accident and then Susan later that year, who’d abandoned the island due to the fear and darkness within her own heart.
“Tragedy comes for all of us,” Lola whispered. “But some of us are damn lucky to have a whole lot of love in-between.”
Susan appeared, suddenly breathless, in the dining room doorway. She pressed the phone against her chest as her eyes widened.
“Christine’s at the hospital,” she stuttered. “It’s real this time.”
“Oh my God! Oh my God!” Lola erupted from the dining room table and sprung for her coat.
“Max! Do you hear that?” Audrey cried. “We’re getting a brand-new cousin! And just in time for Christmas Eve!”