Chapter 7

Carter punched in his home phone number and heard the ring signal. “Hello?”

“Michelle — it’s your brother.”

“Hi, Carter.”

“Are Mom and Dad around?”

“Just a sec...” He heard another voice. “Hello, Carter.”

“Dad. I spoke to Valerie about the travel plans. The dates and times all work so you can go ahead and make the arrangements. She also says thanks.”

“It’s our pleasure. By the way, I’ve been driving the Mustang to keep it limber for you. I took it in and had it winterized — radiator’s good to forty below.”

“We’ll need that where it’s going,” Carter remarked.

“I also had them put in a heavy-duty battery. Consider it part of your Christmas gifts.”

“Thanks, Dad. Is Mom around? Can she pick up on another line?”

“Hold on.”

He heard the click of a landline phone connecting. “Hello, Carter.”

“Hi Mom ... Dad ... I ... I have something to tell you about Valerie.”

“What is it?” his mother asked. “You’re not breaking up, are you?”

“No. Nothing like that. I thought you should know ... Valerie has a mental condition ... she’s been diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia.”

“Oh, my God,” his mother exclaimed. “When was that?”

“When she was fourteen.”

“She’s been getting treatment?”

“Of course. She’s been on an anti-psychotic for five years that manages her symptoms.”

“Did you know this when you started dating her?” his father asked.

“No — I found out later. I love her. I love her deeply and when she’s not having symptoms she’s a joy. But there’s a problem — about mid October her dad was laid off and lost his health insurance. He got a replacement policy but it won’t cover her meds and we ... they can’t afford it out-of-pocket.”

“Oh, the poor girl,” his mother remarked.

“How much is it?” his father asked. “Maybe we can help out.”

“It’s about five hundred a month,” Carter replied.

“What?”

“You heard me — five hundred.” Carter heard his father let out a low whistle. “She decided she’d risk going off her meds. She’s been off them for over six weeks now.”

“How’s she doing?” his mother asked.

“She’s doing really well, considering. Her doctor found a cheap antidepressant she’s taking and that’s helping. We’ve also come up with some coping strategies. When she hears voices...”

“She hears voices?” his mother asked.

“From time to time and we’ve worked out how to drive them away. That leaves the paranoia. Her paranoia is triggered by the color red. She can’t drink from a red vessel without me taste-testing it first. People wearing red scare her. She knows it’s not rational, but this is the hardest for her to conquer.”

“There’s a lot of red out there this time of year,” his mother remarked.

“It’s like your sister’s fear of spiders,” his father added.

“Yeah,” he replied, “it’s sort of like a phobia but deeper and more pervasive. We deal with it by having her avoid red things.”

“Carter,” his mother said, “have you thought about what it would be like going through life with someone with this sort of ... baggage? About what it might do to your opportunities? Your success in a career?”

“I have thought about it a lot,” he replied. “I keep going back to when I was in seventh grade and Mrs Davis was stabbed to death by her son. I remember the talk Dad and I had about it — how you can’t hold someone’s brain disease against them any more than someone’s diabetes or Crohn’s disease. I love her. You’ll love her. She’s a delight. We spent a lot of October figuring out how to deal with her symptoms, and neither of our GPAs has suffered. I made Dean’s List with a three point seven six.”

“You just made it,” his father remarked.

“Yeah, but a win’s a win. Val’s GPA is three point eight two. She is smart, bright and a lot of fun. And, the good news is that her dad is starting a new job the first of the year. After ninety days he’ll have insurance that will cover her meds if she needs to go back on them.”

“Carter — we trust your judgment,” his mother replied. “You’ve always had good taste in picking friends. If you say she’s a lovely girl then we believe she’s a lovely girl.”

“She’s a lovely girl. You’ll love her, too.”

The Amtrak slowed and stopped at the Buffalo-DePew station. Carter disembarked wearing a backpack and dragging a rolling suitcase. He crossed the platform and headed through the terminal building. Outside he scanned the parking lots left and right. Light blue Volkswagen Golf he thought as he looked around. Then he saw a light blue car pull into the terminal’s drive and come to a halt. The passenger door opened. Valerie stepped out and sprinted to him. He embraced her, lifted her off her feet and kissed her lips. “I missed you so much.” He kissed her again. “Our phone calls just don’t compare.”

“Daddy’s popped the trunk,” Valerie replied.

Carter loaded his case and backpack into the trunk. Her father rolled down the window. “Hello, Carter — pleased to meet you,” he said.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr Jessup,” Carter replied.

“Call me Ted, Carter. You and Val can canoodle in the back seat. Just make sure you’re belted in. The local cops are fussy about that.”

“They are where I come from, too,” Carter replied.

“Where’s that? Oh, yes ... Albany.”

Carter sat behind Valerie’s father and she sat beside him in the center seat. “Belted in?” he asked her.

“Yup.” Valerie grasped Carter’s hand and caressed his forearm through his coat.

“Looks like you’ve had some snow,” Carter remarked.

“You live here and you learn to use a snow shovel,” her father replied. “Carter — Valerie says you’re a chemistry major.”

“That’s right.”

“I’m what you could call in between business cards.”

“What sort of work do you do?” Carter asked.

“I’m a sales manager. I was working for a wholesale agriculture supply company. Now I’ll be working for a local auto-parts chain. What sort of a career are you looking at?”

“Well, I’m really taking a liking to organic chemistry — organic synthesis in particular. It’s like playing with Tinker-Toys but at the molecular level. I think I might like going into pharmaceuticals.”

“Hmmmph,” Ted retorted. “The world needs more drugs no one can afford.”

Carter glanced and Valerie and she rolled her eyes. “Well,” he said, “if there’s a drug out there that could reverse Alzheimer’s or stop the progress of ALS, I’d like to be on the team that finds it.”

The car pulled into the driveway of a 1960s ranch style home. “Mid-century modern,” Carter remarked. “It’s coming back into vogue and a lot of folks are restoring houses of that era to the original decor. I know this because my mom is an addict of HGTV.”

“Well, we have the jump on them,” Valerie replied. “We never renovated anything so it’s all authentic mid-century decor ... including the kitchen with green linoleum countertops and an original circular fluorescent light over the dinette table. Right, Daddy?”

“Right. What’s old is new again.”

“Except in our case, what’s old is still old.”

Ted opened the front door and Carter carried his bags inside. “It’s two bedroom, one and a half baths,” Valerie explained. “My room is over here. You can put your stuff in there. It’s okay — I cleared it with my folks.”

“Full size bed,” he remarked as he looked around.

“There’s a bathroom over there and a powder room off the living room.” She smiled her wide pixie smile and opened her purse. “I have something to show you...” She took out a blister pack of birth control pills. “Ta-da! Mom wangled an appointment for me with her gyno. You don’t know how hard it is to get one on short notice. At least her doctor is a woman. I think a male gyno would squick me out.”

“None gone yet I see — when do you start?”

“I take the first one when I get my period.”

“When’s that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Any day now. The timing of that event couldn’t be worse. By the way — how do you like my father?”

“He was a little testy in the car I thought.”

“You’ll discover he’s kind of like a stale candy — crusty on the outside but soft and gooey on the inside. He feels guilty — he thinks he’s responsible for me having to go off my meds.”

“I understand that. A dad wants to be able to take care of his little girl. I’d like to have a talk with him if you think that would be okay.”

“Go ahead. Both my parents want to get to know you. I think he’s probably in the living room.”

Carter looked around and saw Ted sitting in a chair near a bookcase loaded with books. He looked up from his reading. “Oh, hi Carter.”

“What are you reading?” Carter asked.

“The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich,” Ted replied. “With all the neo-nazis popping up I thought it would be interesting to know their backstory. Carter — I want to apologize for my remarks in the car. It’s nothing personal. I’m just a bit bitter that in this day and age, and in this nation of ours, that health and happiness ... and, by happiness I mean a full and productive life ... are still considered to be a privilege of the wealthy instead of a right for all.”

“I’m with you on that,” Carter said. “I’m with you one hundred percent. Valerie tells me you feel responsible for her going off her meds.”

Ted snorted. “The company I worked for was acquired by a competitor and my entire department was redundant and laid off. There was nothing I could do about it.”

“The thing is, whatever happened for whatever reason was a catalyst for change. Valerie told me she tolerated the meds well, but there were side effects. One of them was something like narcolepsy — she’d become lethargic and need to sit or lie down for what she called a fifteen or twenty minute power nap. Since she’s been off the meds, she hasn’t needed those naps.”

“I had no idea...”

“She also told me that now she’s experiencing life more vividly and more vibrantly — like through a freshly washed window. I’ve never seen her happier and I’ve never seen her more alive than in the past few weeks.”

“But, her symptoms...”

“We’re working out techniques to manage them,” Carter replied. “We figured out how to quell the voices in her head and that was a turning point. She told me she no longer is a victim but in control of her illness. That’s a powerfully liberating feeling for her.”

“I imagine it is.”

“She’s entered a new chapter in her life and her illness.”

Carter noticed her father’s eyes begin to fill. “Thank you for this, Carter. It helps. Now I think I hear her mother coming in the kitchen door. I’m sure she’ll want some words with you.”

“Yes, and I have a hostess gift for her. Excuse me.”

Carter headed into Valerie’s room where she was lying on her bed and listening to music. “Your mom’s home,” he said.

“Oh. Okay...” Valerie pulled the earbuds from her ears. Carter removed a wrapped box from his case and they headed toward the kitchen.

“Carter!” her mother said. “So nice to meet you in person. We are so grateful that you came into Val’s life when you did. I think you must have been God sent.”

“I love her, Dorothy. I want only the best for her. I really believe she is the girl for me.”

“I know Carter is the guy for me,” Valerie added.

Carter presented the box to Dorothy. “I brought a hostess gift.”

“Oh, Carter — it wasn’t necessary. Having you here is a gift in itself.” She ripped off the paper. “A bottle of Veuve Clicquot Champagne...”

“For toasting New Year’s Eve,” he said.

“It’ll be perfect for that. Thank you.”

Carter lay on Valerie’s bed in his boxers while she performed her nightly toilet. She came through the bedroom door in her robe. “Well,” she said, “I have good news and bad news.”

He drew in a breath. “Okay — let’s hear the bad news first.”

“I got my period.”

“Is that it? Then, what’s the good news?”

She held up the blister pack with one pill missing. “I got my period. Now I am officially pregnancy-proof.”

“Provided you remember to take your pill,” he replied.

“I am an expert at remembering to take meds. Rest assured.”

She slipped out of her robe. Underneath she wore a long sleep tee. “Do you really need to wear that?” he asked.

“No...” She slipped the garment over her head. Wearing only a pair of black briefs she slid into bed with him.

“It’s a full size bed — that’s a luxury after the twin bed in your dorm room.”

“We don’t have a guest room so my room doubles as one. If we have guests, then I’m on the sofa.”

Carter lay facing her and he kissed her lips. He kissed her again, the tip of his tongue stroking her lips and caressing the side of her breast with the back of his finger. “Carter, no. I’m really sorry but I’m having my period.”