Jenni & Zoe Picking Up the Pieces--Part 6

Here is part six of my series! I hope you all have had a wonderful New Year so far!

Spanks for reading!
:-)

Picking Up The Pieces (Part 6)
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Jade eyes fluttered softly open blinking several times to adjust to
the intense first light of the dawning day. She looked about herself
taking in the plush pink blankets and cartoon sheets realizing she
wasn't in her own bed. As she pushed herself to sit up the previous
night’s events overwhelmed her consciousness. As her limbs gave out
she fell back against the many pillows, a silent sob shaking her
shoulders. A small bundled form next to her nestled itself more
snuggly into her flat stomach. Zoë reached a hand down to sooth the
sleeping girl, stroking the fine soft tresses and rubbing her back
gently as her thoughts wandered.

Her philosophy in life was that with each new day a fresh chance was
given to start over, a clean slate to sketch your picture on and she
had raised her niece with the same valuable expectancy. Though for
the first time in many years she felt this morning's entry to be an
invasion, an intrusive rigid slap of hard truth. She closed her eyes
tightly taking a deep breath before opening them again as if
expecting to have a different day to live then this reality given to
her.

Oh, the chaos… There would be phone calls to make, people coming in
and out of the house, errands to be run, the elementary school to
notify, patients she'd have to cancel with, explanations and excuses
to make, people and even more people, but first there would be
Jenni...

As if sensing her aunts demanding thoughts the little girl shifted,
wrapping her arm across Zoë's middle. The woman looked down at this
young person, noting the sweet curves of her
face and the beautiful angelic waves framing long lashed
sleeping eyes. Her thoughts drifted back to the night before
remembering the damning, cut throat words Jenni had said before
crying herself into exhausted nightmares.

"...and I hate you..."

Tears of acidic sorrow welled in her eyes over flowing down her
cheeks. She felt utterly helpless and weakened by her inability to
calm and pacify Jenni. Her heart was telling her that blame rested
rightfully there, that Lydia's death should have been
preventable...Somehow...Someway. She shook her head willing the
drenching negative vigor to manifest itself elsewhere; she did not
own it.

The human side of her had once felt cheated; robbed of her right to
a normal, healthy childhood. Zoë knew Jenni felt that her right to a
loving mother was stolen from her last night. Over time, the woman
had learned that her own life hadn't taken away. She had been lifted
up through the suffering and the powers that be had given her a strong will to fight for her
life. Through it all, she had discovered her divine right to live.
But she hadn't learned this until her late twenties and it ripped
her insides to think that Jenni would have to wait as long, maybe a
lot longer for clarity. Meantime the child would suffer; there would
be good days and bad. With the sweet always came the sour. Zoë felt
that maybe this was too much for time to heal. That feeling was
fleeting however, as the doubt was cast aside. There was no room for
it, not today.

As these thoughts drifted through her head the tension from it
caused a throbbing headache to emerge at her temples. With Jenni
breathing shallow and soft in slumber beside her there was still a
moment for peace; a brief moment to breath in the rising morning
sun as she patiently waited for an answer...

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Three weeks later…

The soft buzz of the cool night settled around the sleepy house when
the young girl bolted upright, her body quaking with silent sobs.
She looked frantically about the large dim room taking in the
familiarity of her things realizing she was no longer dreaming. The
Egyptian cotton of her bed clothes was tangled and twisted about her
bare legs, her tattered teddy bear no where to be found, though she
searched her bed in a slight panic to find her one comfort. The bear
was wedged between the mattress and foot board at the end of her
twin canopy. Quickly extracting it she sat hugging the frayed plush
to her rapid heart.

Her eyes grew larger with each passing second as her porcelain doll
on the shelf seemed become animated with a menacing sneer as it
began to move ever so slightly. The clothes on her chair were bundled
so that they resembled a crouching troll waiting to pounce; at least
that's what her imagination reflected. The full moon cast harsh,
disquieting shadows splashing across the cream carpet. She swore she
could hear the scratching of a slimy creature's claws under her bed.
The shady forbidden night was her enemy as her mind tricked and
toyed on her fears.

The sharp hoot of an owl broke the silence sending chills down her
back as she reached about pulling the blankets and sheets back over
her self. More than anything she wanted Zoë's arms about her, she
wanted that loving kiss and words of solace to settle her back into
her dreamscape...

The temptation to call out, because of her fear, was very great
knowing Zoë would be there in a heartbeat. Her mouth opened a bit
considering that word...

A prickling of wounded pride and sadness crept
up on her and she pressed her lips firmly shut. Pulling the heavy
blankets over her head, she curled up into a tight ball, her legs
tucked under herself in protection. As she had been doing since her
mother's suicide she suffered the rest of the night in conflicted
silence huddled under layers of quilts crying her self back into a
fitful sleep.

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Drawing had always been her one true passion, something she was
exceptionally gifted at as she always seemed to know how to blend
colors and make shapes and people appear on the blank textured
sheets of paper. Charcoals and paints were her favorite mediums but
required permission and plenty of news paper to cover her work area.
Markers and crayons were used by default not so much by choice for
everyday creativity.

Jenni had been drawing endlessly it seemed for several days now,
making the same picture over and over again. She never seemed to get
it quite right and would trash it halfway through only to begin
again. Her subconscious was searching for something to fill the vast
void inside of her which was bent and blurred with disorder. She
only felt really calm and in control with an art tool in hand giving
her the ability to create or destruct...

"Jenni?"

The girl's ears picked up the soft imploring sound of her name.
Ignoring the voice Jenni kept on coloring, making the black circle
on her paper bigger and bigger. She drummed her socked feet gently
on the carpet and leaned over the paper on her desk, her nose inches
from the wax caked surface. Her crayon finally broke under her
intense concentrated pressure and with a scowl she threw it across
her room in aggravation before reaching for the red one nearby.

"Jenni..."

The voice was more persistent now and still she chose to disregard
it, something she had made a habit of as of late. She had been
making this same picture all afternoon and she felt she was close to
being done, close to discovering the hidden meaning in the image.
The girl sensed movement behind her; still she paid no mind as she
pressed harder and harder with her instrument. She hummed softly to
herself using the crimson to outline the dense black, her hand
making the round motion faster and faster, almost erythematic to her
humming...

"Jenni!"

Zoë raised her voice a bit and gently put her hand on the girl's
shoulder. Jenni shrugged her off in annoyance, not looking up at all
from her work. Though she was rebuffed easily the woman was still
persistent. "I didn't mean to interrupt you, I was just wondering
what you've been up to all day. May I see your picture?" She asked
hopeful and was surprised when Jenni leaned back a bit in her chair
allowing a small glimpse over her shoulder.

"That's very nice sweetheart, I like the shading you've done with
all the colors." With that comment Zoë reached out and lifted the
picture in order to get a better look at it. Jenni quickly grabbed
for it with one hand while pushing at her aunt to go away with the
other. In her frustration she ended up ripping her drawing nearly in
half.

From deep in her throat came a shrill whining wail as she threw the
red crayon to join its mate at the far end of her room. Her shaking
hands yanked the tattered paper from Zoë and tore savagely at the
remainder. Words and meaning were beyond her at this point as she
allowed herself to slip off of the chair into a crumpled heap on the
floor. She pounded the carpet noiselessly with a balled fist as she
dissolved in a pool of tears over the ripped mess at her aunt's
feet. She felt so lost and drained. So tired of searching for
something she didn't understand and didn't know was right in front
of her.

Zoë stepped back immobilized, one hand over her mouth and the other
across her turning stomach trying to settle it as she watched her
irate child have another agonizing fit. Once again she felt
powerless...

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"Even if you're not speaking to me I need you to at least nod so I
know you understand. Will you do that for me please?"
Weary and frustrated Zoë rubbed the bridge of her nose with her
thumb massaging the ever present tension headache she had seemed to
have for the last several weeks. Jenni easily disregarded her.

Zoë closed her eyes then taking a deep calming breath only to open them
to a still present traffic light which seemed to grow redder and redder
with each passing moment. The freeways were horrible around 5:00
everywhere in the busy city, and being a Thursday, was no
exception.

Zoë had just picked Jenni up from her after school art program and
they were on route home. She glanced at her solemn niece in the
rearview mirror. Jenni was sketching a swirling pattern of nothing
in particular on the cool window of the Lexus, seemingly lost in a
daydream. But this expression of nonchalant listlessness was no
child's fantasy. It was a look that had housed itself in the girl's
petite features, closing off all emotion, expression, and words.

"Take your fingers off the glass please sweetheart. I just had the
car washed." It was a simple request which was minded a
minute later as the girls fingers moved to twirl a long curl around
and around her finger.

Jenni looked down, gracing her eyes from the
now moving traffic to gaze closely at the strands of hair in her
hand, moving it this way and that catching the evening suns fading
rays. Colors clashed then blended with the shift of her fingers. She
suddenly felt blistering tears slip down her cheeks darkening the
reddish blonde to a dusty brown from the moisture.

"I hate my hair...it's like hers." It was a soft whisper and so
spontaneous that Zoë nearly missed her foot on the break to stop
for another city light. Safely at a stand still she turned fully
around in her seat wondering if the spell of silence over Jenni
had suddenly been broken.

"What did you say, baby? What about your hair?"

Disappointment misted her eyes as she watched Jenni close back in
on herself as a visible veil fell back over the green judgment. Zoë
realized then that this random comment was not directed to her. She
slowly turned back around; her hands griped the steering wheel
tightly turning her knuckles white from discouraged perplexity.
Just as she was about to turn off the main road a sudden impulsive
urge came over her and she kept driving well past their home block.
Jenni looked questioningly out the back window then at the back of
Zoë's auburn head.

The woman sensed her confusion, but said nothing until they pulled
into a well known Italian restaurant called Little Toni’s, which
catered to families and couples alike. It was a favorite of Jenni's
being the first restaurant the Zoë had ever taken her to. It held
happy memories for both of them. Memories the woman hoped would stir
Jenni into speaking.

"I think we need a treat and I don't really feel like cooking." She
answered her child's silent question, turning off the car and
exiting. Jenni had her hand on the door handle not knowing quite
what to feel, but she joined Zoë in walking up the winding concrete
path and into the busy ambiance.

They were quickly seated in a red velvet booth with a real checked linen table cloth with small candle votives as a center piece. A beverage order was taken by a
young college girl name `Lori' who had cropped short black hair
banded with a pretty burgundy ribbon across the front. Jenni
remembered her from last time, but gave no indication to the
waitresses smiling acknowledgement. Jenni watched with shaded eyes
and a deep scowl as her aunt settled herself across from her
skimming the menu.

Zoë had ordered her sullen niece a coke, normally not allowing the
child syrupy fizzy sugar so late in the day. Jenni wondered at the
exception as she eyed the tempting drink that was set before her,
but did not reach for it. She was trying to punish Zoë for something
she couldn't fully comprehend and only vaguely realized she was
hurting her self as well as her aunt by her reclusive actions.

The woman ended up ordering for both of them. Bread and two small
dinner salads were brought out and Jenni sat in brooding silence not
eating anything as Zoë spoke to her as if everything were normal. By
the entrée the girls stomach was growling, but her will was stronger
then hunger pains. She was fiercely stubborn and didn't want Zoë to
think she was enjoying anything about this so called `treat'. She
was so conflicted and confused inside she wondered briefly to
herself why she was fighting her aunt at all knowing that this
persistent woman always won. But this wasn't the ordinary battle of
wills where winning and losing are the only outcomes. Jenni
understood then that `winning' didn't always mean what she had come
to know it by.

Her mouth suddenly went dry as cotton and she reached for her now
flat soda sucking greedily with thirst on the straw as she
observed Zoë's hands elegantly cutting the bed of cheesy red pasta
into edible bite sizes.

This woman took her in, raised her, tucked her in at night, kissed
her tears and fears away, and loved her unconditionally… like a
daughter…She asked herself then just what was she fighting?

Zoë looked up from her meal feeling the child's pondering gaze
digging into her. Tears streamed from Jenni's eyes landing in her
spaghetti sauce. The girl quickly wiped at them in annoyance with
trembling hands as the realization of a relationship she had not
been fully conscious of interrupted her brewing resentment.

Who was Zoë if not her mother? But her `mother' was dead, buried deep in the
cold darkness of a silk lined coffin with a small gravestone
six feet above her resting head. The searing moisture burned her
sore eyes making the delicate skin tissue red from her constant
rubbing. Her anger was clouding in confliction with a pining ache to
forgive Zoë.

'Why was this so hard?'

Zoë leaned back watching her child's revelation quietly fingering
the heavy silver fork in her hand. She frowned thoughtfully knowing
something of deep importance was taking place. Of what she was
unsure, but she accepted that it was not for her to understand right
then. This important moment was entirely Jenni's.

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It was a crisp bright Saturday morning and already a strenuous
tension filled the air. Jenni had been especially difficult, picking
over anything Zoë served her, refusing to even sample three
different items prepared in the woman's attempt to get her to eat
something. Jenni's appetite had been steadily declining and Zoë was
worried about the girl's nourishment especially with all the crying
the child had been doing. In her irritation over being forced to eat
Jenni had thrown a plate of eggs to the floor shattering glass
shards everywhere before dropping her head in her arms in frustrated
weeping.

Despite her tantrum Zoë had not reprimanded her. Through
the crook of her arm and the table top Jenni was granted a small
opening to watch as her aunt wordlessly swept up her mess. All in
all it had not been a pleasant morning.

After her fit she slipped upstairs to wash her face as Zoë finished
up the dishes. She caught her scowling reflection in the bathroom
mirror; her puckered face was flushed and her hair a snarled mess.
Angrily she pulled a comb through it, trying to tame her strawberry
blonde bed-head. She stopped for a moment and took a long loathing
look at herself deciding something.

With her aunt busy downstairs she quickly stole down the carpeted hallway and into Zoë's room, a place she wasn't allowed to go unless given permission. This gave
the moment a small thrill as she searched the shelf of her aunt’s
walk in closet next to a long line of shoes ranging from Jimmy
Choo's to Nine West; a costly designer collection worthy of a queen.
Her swift forge was rewarded as her hand closed around her sought
prize, hidden in an old wicker basket used to keep sewing supplies...

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The slick, curved silver felt sharply cold in her hand. She moved her
neck side to side taking in the wispy movement of her long wavy
hair. The locks fell near her narrow hips brushing the top of the
dipped curve that began her buttocks. The girl flexed her fingers
listening to the soft grit of metal on metal. The sound was oddly
calming.

She carefully grabbed a fist full of her hated strands at
the nap of her neck noticing how the sheer healthy gleam reflected
itself in the mirrored surface of the large sewing scissors. Taking
a shaky breath to steady her self Jenni began to constrict her hand
closing the blades in a beheading fashion when she suddenly felt her
hand caught and pulled quickly away...Though, not before catching the
tail end of her hair sheering off several inches at a jagged angle.

The heavy metal fell with a clinking thud to the tile, scrapping the
floor as it spun out of reach. Nearly ten inches of hair lay tangled
and sprawled disorderly around her bare feet; a small triumph.

"What do you think you are doing!?" Zoë demanded, shaking Jenni by
her shoulders a bit before letting her hands travel through the
curled ends of her niece's new blunt cut to examine the damage. "Do
you have anything to say for yourself?" She asked firmly then
thought better of her question remembering the difficult
morning. "No, I don't suppose you do..."

A satisfied smile toyed on Jenni's lips as she curled her toes in
the dead softness of what she considered her inherited defect; her
aunts vain adoration. Zoë sighed heavily leaning down to pick up her
scissors. With a stern look of disapproval she shook her head
silently at her niece.

With the executioners ax in hand she guided Jenni out of the room,
hurrying her along eventually with a sharp swat to her nightgown.
The girl winced biting her tongue, but quickened her step. She felt
her aunt's hand around the back of her neck steering her into Zoë's
own bathroom. She watched, rubbing the sting, as her aunt set down the
scissors and laid out a large tan towel on the floor placing a small
wooden foot stool in its center. The woman eyed Jenni for a hard
moment contemplating a decision in her head. With firm resolution
she placed her foot on the stool, bending her knee pulling Jenni
quickly to her. With little fight the girl found herself bent part
way over feeling her pink nightie lifted in back. Through gritted
teeth Jenni accepted the assault as aunt's hard palm landed six
sharp stinging spanks to the center of her bottom, leaving a visible
pink hue through her thin white cotton panties.

"You will not cut your own hair and you will not take my things to use
without asking. Scissors and anything sharp or dangerous requires my
permission. Do you understand me young lady?" Zoë asked calmly
hoping against all odds Jenni would respond to her.

Despite her efforts no response was given; no word, no tears, no
sound nor movement. Not accepting that the woman raised her hand
again landing another series of spanks to Jenni's bare thighs
finally eliciting a high pitched wail. Still she spanked on
concentrating her efforts where the bottom curves to meet the thigh.
The girl hammered her feet into the hard floor trying to deter the
building heat in her backside as she squirmed doggedly to be let go
of. With one last firm swat Zoë lifted Jenni up under her arms,
smoothing down her cotton nightgown. She pulled her into a tight hug
which the girl quickly jerked out of.

Backing away Jenni glared sourly crossing her arms over her chest in a perfect pout. She was sorely angry that her aunt had managed to forcefully break her silent
barrier causing her to cry out. Zoë fought her own tears as she
watched Jenni's fall so effortlessly down her red contorted face.

Not wanting to pick a further fight Zoë ordered her niece on top of
the stool. Jenni hesitantly obeyed and remained compliantly still
despite the tingling sting in her bottom as the woman ran a comb
through her now tangled locks, trimming the ends here and there
trying to even out the jagged angles. After several minutes of
cutting and combing Zoë was somewhat pleased with the results.

The cascade of waves now fell to the girls mid back, the less weight
allowed for more curls to wind tightly upward. The effect was
surprisingly more beautiful. Jenni hopped down off her perch. Any
hint of the previous self-satisfied smile now vanished as the girl
realized that she had not only been unsuccessful in her personal
destruction, but she had earned herself a spanking to boot. Her
small hands grew into tight fists that she pounded against her
thighs in frustrated silence. Zoë watched her niece's turmoil before
kneeling in front of her child. Taking those clenched hands into
hers she worked her fingers to pry open each fist gently so she
could hold them. Jenni visibly flinched at the tender touch.

Her Aunt's worried eyes locked onto her shielded ones searching out
and imploring any spark of light hiding away in those murky green
pools.

"Please baby just talk to me. Just open up to me a little bit. Tell
me what's going on inside of you..." She was begging now, beyond any
reserve of a parents commanding tone. Jenni looked away ripping her
hands out of Zoë's and hugging herself instead. "I don't know what
to do for you..." The words were tight and constricted in the
woman's throat as she continued, "I don't understand what your doing
and I am trying my best to show you I am here for you, that I love
you, that nothing changes that. Nothing your doing deters me from
loving you or wanting you to feel better. Tell me what you want me
to do, Jenni? Just talk to me please..."

Jenni’s back felt stiff, her legs like stone as she listened to her own
light footsteps walk away. She fought the need for Zoë's arms
around her as she made her way back to her room. A nagging string
tugged guiltily at Jenni’s heart as she knew she was the cause of the
tears that were shed in her wake.

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She squirmed uncomfortably fingering the soft fabric of the sofa.
The burn in her bottom still made sitting difficult from her
previous spanking that day. Zoë had made her shower and dress before
hustling her out to the car for a last minute appointment made on
her behalf. During the last four years she had made a weekly visit
to Dr. Suzanne Parker's office and as of late it had been every
other week as needed. Jenni's eyes scanned the room taking in all the memorable furnishings before giving her attention to Dr. Parker.

"Your Aunt Zoë tells me you have had a tough time the last few
weeks; that you're not speaking or responding to people, her
especially. Do you want to tell me about it?"

Green eyes widened a bit before she blinked, turning her face to
look out the window at the passing puffs of grey clouds. The patient
woman smiled thoughtfully before scribbling something on her
notepad. "I know she's very concerned about you Jenni. I am too and
we can both help you if you open up and talk to us. If you're not
ready yet that's okay, but as soon as you do I can promise that
you'll start to feel a lot better." She tried keeping her tone soft
and appealing to coax the child out of her shell. The girls eyes
turned glassy, but she did not give any other notion that she had
heard the woman's words.

Suzanne turned then and rummaged through the bottom drawer of her
oak desk. Out of the corner of her eye Jenni watched as the good
doctor pulled out a pack of markers and a large sheet of poster
board, setting them on the coffee table between herself and the
girl.

"I understand if you don't want to talk just yet. I know you love
art, so why don't you draw something for me instead. I'll just sit
with you. How's that?"

Jenni eyed her skeptically, but reached for a marker almost
immedently as the temptation was too great to ignore. Susanne smiled
approvingly, pushing the paper closer trying to ease the girl's
mistrust, "It's your hour to do as you please. We don't always have
to talk in here, Sometimes feelings come out better without words."

For the first time in weeks the small girls face relaxed a bit. Glad
to be somewhat understood she spent the better part of her hour
coloring in silence.

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"She hasn't spoken to me in nearly a month. At first I didn't try to
make her. I just spoke to her about feelings, how much I loved
her and I was here for her...She didn't seem to hear any of it or
she is choosing not to. I think she blames me for Lydia's suicide,
whether its conscious or not that I'm not sure of... I just don't
know what to do anymore. Most of all I am just plain tired. I
haven't been sleeping well and Jenni's isn't either nor has she a
healthy appetite." Zoë confessed, biting her tongue just then to
keep from tearing up.

Dr. Parker put a reassuring hand over Zoë's patting it softly, "You
have done everything right and as we know with Jenni there is no
clear direction for that on anything. You have to figure it out as
you go along and with a child like Jenni that is no easy thing. She
is a volcano waiting to go off. She's improved drastically over the
last year with her temper and explaining her feelings, but with a
blow such as her mothers suicide it's a wonder she's not worse than
she is." the woman sympathized, her eyes meeting Zoë's for
understanding as she continued, "As for the sleeping I can prescribe
a medication to help her-"

"No not just yet; I've been working on an herbal mixture to stir in
with a chamomile tea. I am going to give it a try with her tonight
and see how she does." Last thing Zoë wanted was to put Jenni on any
kind of medication. She herself had been prescribed just about
everything when she had entered therapy a decade earlier. The side
effects were so unpleasant that she immedently searched out other
natural remedies.

"Let me know how that works out, but other than her routine habits
tell me how everything else is?"

Zoë shook her head becoming lost once again in the events of the
last several weeks. "She's been avoiding any contact with me. During
the funeral she held on to me, trying it seemed to mesh herself into
me, afterward she wouldn't let me near her, weather it's a hug or
helping her with her hair. Her tantrums have also gotten out of
control. I often find her in tears or destroying something. Like
today she had tried to cut her hair. Luckily I intercepted her
before she did too much damage. I haven't had the heart to reprimand
her over anything she's done, but today I did."

"And?"

"And she wouldn't let me comfort or hold her afterwards like she has
always done in the past."

"It’s interesting that some expert's argue over such things as
discipline after such a tragic event, but I believe that consistency
is key. If Jenni expects a certain reproach from you after she's
misbehaved then you must follow through. Otherwise, she's apt to
push your limits and test you harder to get a response." Suzanne
crossed her long legs, smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt as
she listened to Zoë continue.

"I understand that, it just seems though that everything I've worked
for with her is dissolving. We have always been able to talk, that's
how we work through her feelings. That has been our crutch in
dealing with her emotions and outbursts...” She stopped herself then
knowing in her heart that she had not been trying hard enough with
Jenni. The reality of the raw pain needed to be drawn out of the
girl...Mostly she needed to voice it and acknowledge how she
felt. 'Words have power' she had always insisted to Jenni and
now the woman faced the harrowing task of proving it to the girl. She
understood more clearly how to help her niece and breathed visibly
easier as the knowledge settled.

"Words are a wonderful thing, and I urge you to keep talking.
Eventually she will start to really listen and open up to you.
Meantime treat her as you always have, don't change anything. What
she needs right now is structure and stability. Keep meal times,
bedtime, and schedule the same." The doctor explained, turning in
her chair to glance at her notes before continuing. "Besides Jenni,
how are you feeling?"

Zoë sighed deeply, running a hand through her loose locks
considering her own emotions. "I am doing about as well as can be
expected. I have my own outlets for grieving through my work and my
friends. My main concern is for Jenni."

"I understand that Zoë, but in keeping her best interests you have
to put your own first. Make sure you eat well, get lots of rest, and
make sure you have 'you' time, alright?"

Zoë smiled softly, not used to being advised on her own health as
she was a Doctor herself. She nodded, shaking Suzanne's hand before
standing to leave.

"If you have any other questions or concerns please call me.
Otherwise I'd like to see her same time next week."

"Thank you." With that said Zoë made a quick exit. Her eyes met
Jenni's who sat huddled form on the waiting room couch as she
approached. Since the suicide there had been an anxious strained
energy between woman and child. Each was suffering in a diverse,
complicated way. With grieving, it’s each too her own as far as time
and methods are concerned. The tight barrier began to fade as they
stared at one another drinking in the others emotions, Zoë in
particular with a new found respect.

Jenni sensed a shift in her aunts demeanor, she seemed more her self
now than she had been in a long while. As she normally would Zoë
held out her hand expectantly not saying anything. Jenni considered
her for a very long moment before cautiously easing herself up and
reaching out allowing her aunt to take hold of her hand. The woman
rubbed her thumb against the softness of Jenni's smooth skin having
sorely missed its willing touch, her lips curved into a bit of a
grin as she led her child out the swinging door. It was a small
intimate beginning, but it was something.

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The many keys jingled about the gold lock, one with ridged teeth
turned the bolt open to a rush of warm air. Zoë pushed Jenni gently
forward and into their large welcoming home. The girl fumbled with
the buttons on her pink wool pea-coat easing the heavy fabric off
her tense shoulders as her aunt locked the door and set down her
things. Jenni gave a small hop to hang her coat on a hook by the
door before spinning on her heel fretful to get away from the
pushing topic she knew was coming.

"Not so fast sweetheart. You and I need to have a talk."

Jenni hesitated in her step a moment long enough for her aunt to
scoop her up about her middle. The woman carried her easily over to
the couch where she sat with her sullen niece on her lap. The girl
refused to look up and instead kicked her shoes into the tan sofa,
her arms crossed tight over her chest. Zoë reached down and slipped
off the child's shoes so no marks would tarnish the light fabric.

"After my conversation with Dr. Parker I realized that I haven't
been as direct with you as I should have been. I know that you are
upset with me about your mother and I want to know exactly how you
feel. I want your most honest deep feelings Jenni what ever they
are..."

The girl listened still and quiet. At her aunts pause she began to
twist herself off of Zoë's lap answering her waiting audience with
grunting and high pitched whining. The woman held her fast.

"No, no, no. You may not run from this. You've been running and
hiding enough. I want to help you stop fighting.... Baby you must be
so tired of fighting yourself and me. It's okay to feel it Jenni.
Its real and it hurts a whole lot, but its okay to-"

"Leave me alone!" The young girl shouted her face crimson with heat.
She yanked her self away from her persistent aunt and huddled down
on the floor by the couch, wrapping her arms around herself trying
it seemed to disappear into the throw rug.

Zoë froze, shocked to hear Jenni's voice after so much silence. The
anger needed to be milked out and the woman quickly composed her
self to face the task. She leaned forward, not letting the beginning
of a roaring tantrum deter her. Instead of waiting the storm out she
chose to meet the thunder and lighting head on. "I will not. There
are things you need to say. You're very, very angry with me and
that's-"

"STOP IT! SHUT UP!" With her hands over her ears Jenni screamed
throwing her self on the floor while kicking at Zoë's legs with her
socked feet to go away.

Not discouraged the woman knelt down and wrapped her arms in a bear
hug around her struggling niece locking her flailing arms to her
sides and raised her voice to be heard over the shrill cries. "You
stop this tantrum right now young lady. You know better and you are
old enough to know how to let me know you are upset without a fit. I
will not allow you to continue to be violent and destructive. You
will not ever tell me to `shut up'. Are we clear?"

If she backed down now Zoë didn't know how long it would be before
Jenni spoke to her again. It had been to long; too much time had
been wasted that their voices carrying on together sounded unreal.
Both of them had been needlessly suffering through this overwhelming
grief alone. Zoë had let this child out of her reach for to long and
its effect kept rearing its hideous head with Jenni constantly being
out of control. It was time to end it.

"LET GO OF ME! GET OFF!" Still yelling the girl continued to fight
her captor in vain. Zoë tightened her grip pulling Jenni closer
patiently waiting for her niece's exhaustion. In response Jenni
banged her head back hitting Zoë in the chest leaving bruises to
form in her wake. At this the woman quickly shifted the girl onto
her stomach firmly holding her to the floor in a more restricting
position; one she had been taught many years ago to safely control
Jenni in one of her frequent fits.

Soon enough from pure spent adrenaline Jenni's body went limp. At
the shift Zoë immedently loosened her grip and eased the girl onto
her back to help her regain a normal pattern of breathing. Jenni's
chest heaved a huge shaking sigh as her eyes met Zoë's studying them
deeply for a reaction. She was sorely disappointed.

"Talk to me Jenni because I refuse to allow you to poison your soul
with this anger and hate." Zoë continued the conversation that had
been having as if nothing had happened, a bit out of breath, but
still with an unyielding reasoning tone. Any rise or distraction
Jenni had been trying to create had failed. Upon this realization
she started once again to shriek and brawl.

Wordlessly Zoë managed to stand up with a struggling Jenni in tow
and headed for the kitchen. There she dragged a high backed stool
from the island over to a bare corner and set it facing the room.
The raging child meanwhile tried desperately to liberate her arm
which her aunt still had a hard grip on. Zoë eyed her for a moment
watching as the girl's efforts and her hurting focus resided in her
fight for freedom. It was time for Jenni to raise the white flag.

She lifted Jenni's arm forcing the child to her tiptoes before
giving her niece a firm spank to her skirt causing the constant
wailing to be interpreted with surprise. With the girl in shocked
silence she was able to easily lift her up onto the hard wood seat.
Leaning down a bit she braced both of her hands on stool on either
side of Jenni, their eyes meeting inches apart.

"Now that I have your full attention here is what's going to happen.
When you feel like your emotions are too big to control and you have
a temper tantrum you will come here to the quiet corner to regain
control of yourself. If you need me to help you with that I will.
This is not a punishment. It's only meant to help you. I want you to
know that nothing you do or feel is ever too big for me to handle,
alright?" She shifted her eyes back and forth between Jenni's raging
ones beseeching some kind of understanding.

There was a long dense stillness. Finally Jenni parted her lips and
opened her mouth wide spewing her fury venomously into Zoë's face as
a snake would hiss its warning before striking the deadly blow. The
woman nodded her head and stepped back. "Your not ready to speak
that's fine, but you are to stay put until you can speak with words,
not with screaming." Turning her back she went over to the fridge
and began to pull out makings for chef salad. She ignored the
constant screeching in the background as she prepared dinner.

Forty minutes later while Zoë set the table the girl's voice finally
gave out. Jenni's face was wet with tears and sweat. Her throat was
so sore and dry she greedily eyed a glass of apple juice set at her
place at the table. Its temptation was too great and wiping her eyes
she started to ease herself off of the stool.

"Are you quite finished with your tantrum?" Zoë asked lightly not
looking up from the bundle of silverware in her hand as she
continued to set the table.

The girl bit her lip nodding as she slowly made her way over. Zoë calmly put down the utensils and quickly moved lifting Jenni up under her arms and depositing her
back onto the stool. Tired and hungry now the girl angrily tried to
pry her aunt's hands off her arms as the woman held her to the high
perch. "I asked you a question and I do not know if you understand
me. Are you finished with your fit?"

Guardedly, Jenni again nodded.

"I can't understand you when you scream at me. I want very much to
be able to, but you have to help. You're allowed to get up when you
are ready to use your words to answer me." She said and left the
girl staring after her as she finished placing the cloth napkins.

Zoë felt as if she had been speaking to a very small child and in a
way she had been. Jenni had reverted to old coping behaviors she
hadn't displayed in many years. Weary memories of long ago were
seeping into the present moment making the woman feel drained and
emotionally spent.

A long pause later a small tight whisper broke the air, "I'm done."

It took Zoë's entire self discipline not to rush over to Jenni and
hug her. Those small words had been the first willing part of a
response the woman had heard in a month. And as miraculous as it was
to hear that voice again Zoë knew her over attention to it would
give the wrong message to Jenni's prolonged silence. Still not
looking at her niece she carried two plates of food over to the
table. "Then you may get up and come to the table for dinner."

Jenni made her way over and pulled out her chair with a small squeak
on the tiled floor. Despite the break through they ate in silence;
Jenni mainly from hunger and Zoë in wonderment of her next move.
After several fast bites of food Jenni pushed her plate away. She
fiddled with hemmed edge of skirt as her stomach churned her meal
making her feel slightly nauseated from eating to fast.

"I'm so sad inside." Jenni's voice was meek and pondering as she
tried expressing herself for the first time since that awful
night. "Everything hurts, even breathing…Even with all the stuff she
did to me I still loved her…Is that wrong?"

"No baby. Love, the right kind of love, is never wrong." The woman
explained.

"She couldn't give it back though. I wish she could of, and then I
could've had you both." The child's words came out as a complaint as
fingered the lace fringe of the table cloth.

"That must be a nice thought for you."

Jenni nodded not looking up from her hands, "That's just it…it's
only a thought. It's not real and I hate that." She lifted her gaze
settling it on her aunt's full lips. As she next spoke she gained
courage to ease her eyes upward. "I'm so mad at you..."

Zoë swallowed hard setting down her fork and giving her full
attention to her niece, "I know sweetheart." She didn't make any
attempt to defend her self. She just sat very still and quiet
opening her heart to anything her child had to say.

"If you hadn't of told on her to the police she'd still be here. She
wouldn't have killed herself... I mean she'd at least be alive and
have a chance." Jenni's slow words were strained and her tone
punishing with spiteful blame. "SHE should be here...SHE should be
making me dinner, SHE should be calling me `sweetheart' and holding
me telling me everything is all right! NOT YOU!"

Zoë's eyes glossed and she fought herself not to take Jenni's biting
words personally. "I'm hearing that you are very angry with me, that
you feel I caused your mother to make the decision to end her life."
Her voice was not questioning, but very matter of fact. She was
validating Jenni's feelings. "Do you remember me telling you that
there were choices I would have to make for you? That whatever I did
was because of my love for you?"

Jenni nodded wearily. Zoë licked her
lips trying to find the right words, "The decision to have your
mother arrested was one of those choices and I only did it because I
feared for your safety. I also wanted to have some people, good
people, to try and help your mother feel better. She was very sick
baby and she wouldn't willingly get help. That was her chance and
she chose differently. "

"It's still not fair! SHE SHOULD BE HERE!" Shouting again Jenni
collapsed on the table, her head in her arms bitterly crying and
soaking her tears into the table cloth. Zoë stood and made her way
over. She gently pulled Jenni up and seated herself in the child's
spot. She was very grateful and relieved that the girl allowed her
comforting touch. Zoë lifted Jenni up to sit on her lap and she held
the crying mess of a rag doll to her chest, rocking her slowly.

"Yes, she should be here. By all rights you should have your mother
and I would do anything to give you that…but I am here for you baby
in whatever form you accept me to be. I'm here right now at this
moment."

Jenni continued to sob herself out with great big loud tears at
first which much later turned to a soft weeping. Zoë held her tight
humming quietly under her breath. The small consoling vibrations
broke the shield the girl had been holding inside herself. With a
sniffle Jenni pulled her face from her aunt's sweater noting a very
wet spot had soaked itself in the cashmere turning a soft green to a
dark emerald. Her tears shed in such painful sorrow remained engaged
to Zoë's chest next to her heart; such a suiting place.

"I don't really hate you. I'm sorry…." As she apologized a cramped
spot in her spirit stopped aching to be forgiven. Zoë smiled while
softly tucking tangled curls behind the girl's ears as she leaned in
to kiss Jenni's flushed wet cheek.

"I know my sweetheart…I'm sorry too." For exactly what Zoë had never
said as it was a silent mutual understanding that didn't need to be
spoken about just then. Jenni had returned to her and from that
moment on their relationship shifted taking root in a new deeper
connection.

The issue of Lydia's death wouldn't be discussed for many years,
but would remain a slow to heal wound yet to be closed. No salt
would be added to worsen the fresh sting meanwhile by either woman
or child. Enough of the sharp white crystals had been spilled. It
was time to toss it all over the shoulder.

Zoë sat back cupping her child's face with her smooth warm hands,
her thumbs wiping at the still spilling water. Their matching eyes
locked wet jade to jade soaking in the love passing silently between
them. To Zoë's slight marvel she saw her little sister looking back
at her then through Jenni's expressive features. The same rich trust
and adoring bond that had connected the siblings when they had been
just small children saturated the moment. She hadn't been able to
save or protect Lydia, but here in this child, her child, was her
sisters lost innocence. In Jenni she had her prayer answered.

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Comments always welcome.