Excerpt: The Adoption
Chapter One …
June 14, 2021, Monday
Dani Sutton had dreamed of the day she would be well enough to leave the mental health facility and now, it was here, she thought she might throw up.
“You okay with this, Dani?”
Her psychiatrist’s voice snapped her attention back to her surroundings. Why did she have the feeling Dr. Allen was reluctant to let her go?
Her doctor peered at her with a concerned, steady gaze.
“Just nervous. You know. But excited, too.”
“You’ll do great,” said Tate, full of certainty.
Her husband, Judge Sutton, was two years older but miles more confident than she had ever been, even before the accident six months and sixteen days ago. Since winning his position on the circuit court, last fall, he even looked older than twenty-eight.
Tate turned to Dr. Virginia Allen. “Could I speak to you for just a minute?”
“Of course.”
“Dani, why don’t you have a seat?" said her husband, motioning to the chairs opposite the masked receptionist who sat behind a wall of plexiglass.
She wanted to say that she’d rather not. Instead, she nodded and sank to the seat in the receiving lounge in the building where she had lived since the car wreck. Her husband lowered her travel bag to the floor beside her. Anxiety crept into her chest, tightening like a constrictive band.
The accident left her with a brain injury and a condition called Acquired Prosopagnosia or face blindness. She could describe Tate’s face, but she couldn’t identify him or anyone else because she could no longer organize features into a useful, identifiable whole. Her neurologist had been clear. This loss was permanent. All she could do was use coping mechanisms, little tricks, to improve her chances of distinguishing a person without the innate neurologic capabilities most took for granted.
Despite living with the condition for months, she never really got use to being unable to recognize people. As a result, Dani avoided situations, like this one, alone in the reception area, where she would be forced to try and identify unidentifiable faces.
“You’ll be okay a few minutes,” said Tate, his smile reassuring.
“Will I?”
“Of course.” He chuckled and patted her hand, casting her a look of such confidence.
Meanwhile, she held doubts she was well enough to be left alone for a few minutes let alone be discharged.
Of course, she wanted to go home with Tate, but she was frightened, too. What if it came back?
After she’d physically healed, the ensuing depression made it obvious to everyone she needed help. When she’d agreed to admission to the mental health facility, she’d never expected to be here for half a year.
Strangely, over the days and weeks, this place had become a home of sorts. And it seemed safer and more familiar than the house they now owned.
Dani glanced around the grand open space. The wide lobby had all the characteristics of what it had once been, a boutique hotel.
She had never been to the receiving lounge where patients visited with guests or the reception area where guests checked in to the private mental health facility. It was wholly unfamiliar and busy on this morning with people coming and going.
She tucked farther back in her seat as the anxiety built. Behind it, the consuming darkness lurked.
Tate smiled down at her, radiating self-assurance. How she envied him that. He never felt lost or uncertain. Poise emanated from him like the glimmering magnetism of a presidential candidate. And like everyone else, she wanted to cuddle up close to that light.
But this was exactly the situation she dreaded. Hadn’t she been clear?
She stared up with a pleading look which he ignored.
“I’ll be right back.” He gave her a winning smile.
She studied the stripe pattern in his necktie before he turned away, committing it to memory. As always, he wore a yellow shirt and tie to help her identify him.
Tate had worn this buttery hue every day since her neurologist recommended using a color to help her cue in on him. He picked yellow because an internet search indicated it was least popular for both men and women’s clothing, making it less likely someone else would be wearing it.
She took one last look at Tate, scrutinizing his face as he joined her doctor. His hair was light brown but coaxed toward blond by bleached highlights from both the sun and his stylist. His dark blue eyes flicked over her face.
“Just a few minutes. Okay?”
He didn’t wait for a reply but followed her doctor down the hall and out of sight.
Of course, she knew his voice and his greeting. But in places like this, where there were so many people coming and going, identification was stressful and difficult.
Dani wiped the sweat from her upper lip and fidgeted, clicking her thumb nail, and resolving to stay put rather than suffer the embarrassment of following some stranger from the waiting area.
She perched on the edge of the chair, watching the men in gray slacks come and go. One was blond, and she rose, but he paid her no attention. She glanced at his shirt, which was white and his tie a cerulean blue.
Dani settled back in her chair to wait. She wondered if Shelby had finished her morning rehab yet. Often, her twin sister, Shelby Durant, seemed to know when Dani was thinking of her. And when Dani’s phone rang, it did not surprise her to see Shelby’s image appear on her device.
Dani knew this photo.
For reasons she didn’t fathom, she had better luck identifying two-dimensional images of faces, where the three-dimensional ones simply flummoxed her.
This was a photo taken at the lake house. One of the properties they had sold after their parent’s passing. Too many memories anchored that lake house to their mom and dad. Instead of being a comfort, they’d both been sad every time they’d visited.
But here, when Dani had snapped this image, their parents were alive. Dad likely on the boat fishing, mom in a hammock with her eReader and she and Shelby on the dock. Shelby’s face was flushed and pink and gleaming with perspiration. Her brows arched elegantly over familiar gray eyes, rimmed in charcoal, and her blond hair was just shoulder length, with her stubborn bangs pushed to the side and grown out to even with the tip of her narrow nose. She’d been laughing, and the image was slightly blurry, but the indentation of her chin and the straight rows of teeth were clear enough.
Her phone again gave the distinctive ringtone she’d set for her identical twin. I’ve Got You, Babe, by Sonny and Cher because they used to sing it at the top of their lungs at sleep-away camp.
Dani tapped the button to accept the call.
“Shelby! I was just thinking about you!”
“I know!”
The receptionist snapped her attention to Dani, eyes wide beneath her medical mask. Dani frowned, and the woman returned her focus to her computer monitor.
Dani didn’t like the masks because they just added to her sense of confusion. The staff had stopped wearing them for a while, but they were back at it again.
“You home yet?”
“Just leaving now. Tate wanted to speak to my doctor.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Maybe. We’re both a little nervous.”
“Well, that’s natural. But you have Tate there to help you. I wish I could be there, too.”
Since the accident, Shelby lived in Jacksonville in a medical rehabilitation center, private, and specializing in spine injuries and neurological conditions. Her days were spent with occupational and physical therapy and the progress had been slow as spine injuries did not heal. All she could do was improve her upper body strength as Shelby was now paralyzed from the waist down.
So why didn’t Dani let her drive that night?
Dani threaded her fists in her hair and squeezed. Why had she been driving so fast? Shelby couldn’t remember even that Dani had visited, and the brain injury had knocked the details from Dani’s head. All that was left was the emotion.
Angry. She’d been so angry. That was all she could recall.
When Dani was first recovering at Windwood, she was unclear if that jagged fury was the cause of her hitting the overpass or a result of discovering what she had done to them both.
Dr. Allen suggested hypnosis, which had yielded nothing useful, so her doctor recommended she drop it for now with hopes that the details would become clearer over time. But, like a sliver under the skin, the question only festered. She recognized obsessive thinking. It was yet another unavoidable rut in her road to recovery.
Months ago, she had asked Tate what he recalled about her reasons for going to visit Shelby only three days before Christmas. It bothered her because her sister usually came to them for the holiday.
“Shopping,” he’d said. “Something about Christmas shopping and the winter carnival.”
She and Shelby loved WinterFest as kids but hadn’t been in years.
He had nothing illuminating. She’d gone up there to visit with Shelby, which she did often. Nothing unusual, he’d said.
“Next thing I knew, the state police were at my office telling me about the accident.”
She’d seen the highway patrol report. Excessive speed. That had been Monday evening, December twenty-second. Police arrived on the scene of the single vehicle accident at 8:05 PM. She and Shelby had been airlifted to a hospital in Jacksonville, where Dani spent the next sixteen days recovering from a brain injury. Shelby had been there even longer.
“Why was I driving so fast?” Dani had asked.
Tate just shook his head. It was one of many unanswerable questions.
Dani sighed, recalling the burning, fiery rage.
“Did we fight?” she had asked.
“You and me?” he laughed. “Never.”
That was right. Why would they when he gave her everything she wanted, anticipated her needs, and stood beside her during her darkest hours?
He was amazing. Too good for her.
She never fought with Shelby, either.
“How’s the new place?” asked Shelby.
Only a year after purchasing their first home, Tate had won the election for the vacant circuit court justice slot and insisted on moving them to Jordan Island in the gated community of Heron Shores Bayside Estates. He’d selected a grand two-story residence with all the amenities. The properties were pretentious and too closely set for Dani’s taste, but if making their massive McMansion on the intercoastal a showpiece made Tate happy, then have at it. This one sat on a canal with a boat lift. From the balcony and the dock, you could see Tampa Bay. It wasn’t the direct view of the bay that Tate coveted, but it was getting closer. They’re offer was accepted in September, coming up on a year ago already. They closed in November, but Tate had made more than a few upgrades since she’s seen the place on various walk-throughs.
“It’s not new. We closed after… ” Dani didn’t finish.
“Well, it’s new to me,” said her sister. “And I can’t wait to see it.”
“Me, too. I guess he’s made a lot of changes.”
“Oh, well that’s fun,” said Shelby.
“Yes. I wish you could see it with me.”
Since the accident, Shelby had not left the rehab center.
“Send pictures.”
“I did.”
“But that was when it was staged. I want to see your things there.”
“Tate replaced some of them. He says the furnishings from our first home are too contemporary for this place.”
“Hmm. Once he gets that home theater set up, you’ll never see him.”
“True.” Dani smiled. “I’ve got a ground floor bedroom all set for you with its own bathroom, as soon as you feel up to a visit. Do you need safety bars?”
Tate didn’t like the idea of the ugly metal bars in the shower and bracketing the toilet, but as soon as Shelby could travel, Dani wanted her here in Tampa and safe when visiting their home.
“I need them,” said Shelby. “Hey, any room for a horse?”
“On Jordan Island? The Homeowners Association would have a fit.”
They’d both gotten ponies for Christmas when they turned seven. Her’s was Puddin’ and Shelby’s was Dumpling. Since they lived on Tampa Bay, the ponies were boarded elsewhere.
“Aren’t they a bit young?” asked their mom.
“Never too young to learn to care for animals,” said their dad.
It turned out that the ponies were gifts, but the board was not. Dani never knew how much it cost, but it cost her and Shelby one Saturday a month where they did everything from clean tack to muck stalls.
She’d held Puddin’s head when the farrier trimmed her feet and learned to curry, brush, and braid the pony’s tail in that stable. The entire experience had been wonderful, and she’d loved being a horse-girl.
As they grew, they’d graduated to smaller horses and then their Morgens when they’d turned thirteen. Sugar was a white gelding and Bear was Shelby’s black mare.
They’d adored horses.
Even went to a sleepaway camp with Sugar and Bear over several winter breaks. Shelby liked barrel racing and she preferred trail riding, but they were excellent at both. Team penning gave them a natural advantage, as they could communicate so well without talking. Their poor parents must have sucked in a wheel barrel full of dust in those bleacher seats in arenas all over the state.
She wondered if Shelby still had her ribbons.
“Will you be able to ride again?”
“I don’t see why not. I know people in my situation do.”
“It would be heaven to be out on a trail ride with you.”
“But no jumping. At least, I don’t think so.”
“No jumping. Check.” Dani thought about what Shelby and she had enjoyed as kids. “We have a boat lift, so a motorboat, at least.”
“Hey, remember our jet skis?”
“Do I.”
And their home on the bayfront was a gathering point and starting place for sailing outings and bombing around in the jet skis with their school friends. Dani doubted Shelby could do that again, at least not without some modifications to the seat. And the bouncing. That had to be bad for a spine injury.
“You know,” said Shelby. “Football season’s comin’ up. Think I could make it down there for a Bucs game?”
“Oh, Shelby! I’d love that!”
“Great. We’ll figure that out.”
“And make it happen.”
“Absolutely!”
They always went to home games. Their dad was the Buccaneers best fan. He had season tickets and all home games were full day affairs, with the tailgating from the RV. His pulled pork was legendary, and his friends needed no other excuse to gather before kickoff. She could see them now, Shelby’s face painted with a white pirate skull and hers painted red. They had pirate hats and foam fingers.
After her father’s passing, they let the tickets go. It just wasn’t the same without him wearing his red Buccaneers jersey and Super Bowl gold-ring hat. She missed her parents so much but was half-glad they couldn’t see her like this. See Shelby like this. Would her mom and dad blame her for the accident?
“So, no horses there, but a boat,” said Shelby. “What else? Do you have a garden, at least?”
“No. Backyard is right on a canal. You remember.”
“Sort of.”
Dani estimated the distance from the pool cage to the dock was less than ten feet. The smaller lot was to be expected. Every inch of waterside real estate was precious and expensive.
“Salt spray is hell on orchids,” said Shelby.
Dani would miss her colorful blooms. Unfortunately, they had wrapped their thick green roots into the cracks of the bark of the century-old oaks at their first home, so moving them was not an option. Tate said he’d relocated her bird feeders, but she doubted she’d see more than gulls, pelicans, and the occasional heron. The finches, jays, wrens, nuthatch, and cardinals never moved too far from their homes amid the oaks and pines farther inland.
Songbirds and orchids were not all she would miss. At their first home, she’d could walk to the grocery and an independent bookshop. Now they were so far into the gated community, it was three miles just to drive out.
Tate said she could order whatever she needed online and have it delivered. And she could walk to the community pool and clubhouse. Somehow that did not stop her from missing browsing through new books or reading one at one of three favorite coffee shops.
But three years into their marriage, she was still madly in love with him. He was charming, supportive, and he had been her rock throughout her ordeal. So, if he wanted a flashy, nuvo rich home, how could she object? She’d do anything to make him happy. Their marriage was more important to her than where they lived.
She glanced down the hall, wondering what was taking him so long and already anxious about the trip. He was a careful driver with a perfect record. Though likely his police connections could overlook any traffic violation he might incur.
Dani thought of herself as a good driver, too. Or she had been.
So why, on that fateful night, had she been driving so fast?
Back to her circular thinking again, she realized. Whatever the cause, she now carried that sick fury and crushing guilt with her always, an invisible backpack dragging on her shoulders. The reason for her stupid recklessness was gone with the part of her brain that recognized her husband’s sweet, handsome face.
Shelby interrupted her obsessive musings, her voice ringing with excitement.
“Hey, guess what? I’m getting a van. Once I learn to drive, I can come visit you.”
Six months was the longest she’d ever gone without seeing her twin. Dani was too afraid to drive, but if she could overcome the anxiety of riding in a vehicle, and if Tate wasn’t too busy with the upcoming election, he might soon bring her to Jacksonville.
With Shelby’s spine injury, she’d never even considered that Shelby might be able to travel to her.
“How will you drive a van?” Dani asked.
“It’s wheelchair accessible. All hand controls. Super cool, right?”
Dani let the familiar wave of guilt crash into her at the mention of Shelby’s wheelchair. The depression, that had swallowed Dani whole, gurgled to life. It’s stirring sent a white lightning bolt of fear lifting the hairs on her arms.
“Dani? You still there?”
“Yes, still here.” Shelby had mentioned a van. Dani rallied. “That’s super. What color?”
“Oh, boring white, unfortunately. Maybe I’ll get a racing stripe or something. Or an airbrushed unicorn!” Shelby giggled.
Her sister’s attitude was unfailingly sunny. In some ways, Shelby had come away from the accident in better shape than Dani. Strange that the body healed more quickly than the mind. Except Shelby wasn’t healed because spinal cords didn’t mend.
“I wish we lived closer,” Dani said, wistful.
“Maybe Tate will get the nomination for the court up in Tallahassee. That’s closer.”
“Possibly.”
If Tate won the party nomination for the state supreme court, they’d be moving again.
Before their marriage, he’d accepted a position in a law firm here. Shortly after making partner, he’d run for, and been elected to, the circuit court. But never one to rest on his laurels, he’d set his sights on Florida’s highest court, which meant a campaign and fundraising, already underway. She looked forward to neither.
“How goes the campaign?”
“Fundraiser Thursday night,” said Dani.
“You’re going?” Shelby sounded incredulous.
“Yes. I want to.” The confidence in her tone was undermined by the rising panic that filled her stomach like something thick and vile.
“Don’t you think you should spend a few days getting used to being at home?”
“I can do it.”
“Can you though? A sea of unfamiliar faces. I’m not sure all the tricks your doctor taught you will be much use.”
“I’m going to screw it up. Aren’t I?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Dani lowered her head, shielding her face with her palm.
“I might hurt his chances of winning the party’s endorsement. Is that what you mean?”
“No. It isn’t. I know you want to help him. But this might be too much too fast. I’m just worried about you.”
Silence stretched.
“Dani?” Shelby’s voice held concern.
She knew if she spoke, Shelby would know she was crying again, but she just couldn’t shake the sorrow.
“Dani? Say something.”
She whispered the words, trying to keep the receptionist from eavesdropping.
“When I can’t recognize them, they’ll give me that look and try to figure out what’s wrong with me. I hate that look.”
The tears came then, sliding down her cheeks. Dani brushed them away. She’d had face blindness since the accident, but sometimes thought she’d never get used to it.
The receptionist left her desk, hurrying down the hall.
“If you want to go, then go.”
“But I might embarrass Tate.”
“No chance. And you aren’t the one running for office. Just tell them about the face blindness,” said Shelby.
Dani sniffed again as the tears persisted, choking her attempts to reply.
Someone stood before her, a man, reaching and clasping her shoulders, guiding her to her feet. Dani struggled.
“Dani, it’s Tate.”
She froze instantly, recognizing his voice. Of course, it was Tate. He wore his familiar gray slacks, yellow shirt, and the tie she’d studied before he’d left. His height was right, as well. As long as she didn’t wear heels, he was several inches taller.
She sagged as relief pressed down on her shoulders.
“Why are you crying?”
Had the receptionist gone to fetch him? Dani’s face heated in embarrassment.
“It’s nothing. I was talking to Shelby.” She lifted the phone, but the screen was dark.
Shelby had disconnected.
©2022, Jenna Kernan
