Read Online Invisible by Ginny L. Yttrup - Free Book Online Page B

than the focal point. As I head for the sofa, I recall an article I read not long ago about Bach’s compositions. The author felt there was an emotional detachment about Bach’s music.
    I shake my head at the ridiculous assertion. I wouldn’t be drawn to Bach’s work if I sensed an emotional detachment.
    I settle on the sofa, cradling my coffee. Living here affords me new opportunities. I am free to embark on a new journey—to redefine myself rather than allowing my past to define me. I am still me, Sabina Louise Jackson, PhD. I’m proud of who I am. Those letters behind my name mean something. I worked hard for them. I won’t hide. I’m not using an alias. Instead, I’m looking forward.
    And allowing those I invite into my life to do the same, rather than be waylaid by my history.
    Am I ready to invite others into my life? I don’t know. But ready or not, it’s time. Last night reminded me that I am a people person—one who needs the companionship and conversations of others to enhance my life experience.
    I’ll not only stay depressed if I remain alone, but I’ll go crazy.
    Maybe I’ll call the restaurant this afternoon and see if I can reach Ellyn.
    There’s an ease about her. I noticed it in the doctor’s office too as she spoke to the receptionist. It would be good to have a female friend. How long has it been since I’ve had one? Several colleagues come to mind, but friends?
    I haven’t had time.
    Well, time is all I have now.

How many kinds of questions there are . . .
    Saint Augustine
    Chapter Ten
    Ellyn

    I sidle into a pew in the Mendocino Baptist Church and plop down on the hard wood, so grateful to be where no one can reach me. I pull my cell phone out of my sweater pocket and turn it off, then drop it into my purse. I look around and recognize a few regulars, and what look like a handful of tourists. It’s never a large congregation.
    I settle in for the next hour.
    I may just stay all day.
    I wondered if I could buy you a cup of coffee sometime?
    May I? Call?
    No, you may not call. If you have something to say, say it now. Don’t leave me hanging.
    My part in this imagined conversation changes each time it plays. I say something, anything, rather than offering that nod. I’m a nodding bobblehead. Soon you’ll see my bobbling figurines at drug stores everywhere. You’ll buy them as stocking stuffers for your kids. Bobblehead Ellyn.
    Why didn’t I just say what I was thinking? Most of the time words flow out my mouth before ever going through that flimsy filter in my brain. But last night? No. They were trapped, deep inside. They’re still there too. I didn’t know what to say. Still don’t. I keep turning the options over in my head as the conversation repeats, but I haven’t landed on the response yet.
    If you have something to say, say it now.
    Has Dr. Norman sent you as the bearer of bad news? You don’t have to buy me coffee to soften the blow.
    My eyes widen. Is that it? Did something come back in my lab work that Dr. Norman asked Dr. Becker to tell me about? Did she think it would be easier for me to hear it from him because I was his patient for so long?
    Others around me begin to shuffle. I look down at the end of the pew I’m sitting on and see the woman who was sitting there is now standing and holding a hymnal. Oh. I reach for the hymnal in front of me and stand too. I let it fall open rather than turning to whatever number hymn the pastor mentioned.
    The church is so small that Pastor Cleveland wears all the hats—worship leader, preacher, treasurer, secretary . . .
    I stare at the page of the hymnal while those around me raise their voices in worship.
    No, Dr. Norman wouldn’t do that. Neither would Dr. Becker. They’re professionals.
    I wondered if I could buy you a cup of coffee sometime?
    Why does he want to buy me a cup of coffee?
    My stomach