Maddy smiled to herself as she cruised down I-95 on her way back to Boca Raton from Lake Worth. She'd just had a promising
interview with an Oregon-based financial institution that had recently
merged with First America Bank. It was hard to fathom that more than
two years had passed since that awful time when she genuinely believed
that her life-for all intents and purposes-was over. Those dark days
had been characterized by abject fear and sorrow as family members,
friends, licensed psychologists, group therapy sessions and prescription
medications had only succeeded in raising her to a passable level of
functionality.
After that fateful morning spent commiserating in bed with her
mother, a battery of tests had ruled out suspected brain abnormalities as
the root cause of Madeline's troubles. Later, a thorough exam and
comprehensive blood work conducted by their family internist had
proclaimed her to be the picture of health, at least physically. From her
low-to-normal blood pressure and acceptable (if not perfect) weight to her
supposedly "in-range" hormonal levels, Dr. Bingham expressed his
delight with Maddy's excellent results and admirable nutritional habits,
particularly her adherence to drinking at least 64 ounces of water a day.
However, the good doctor did give credence to her legitimate physical
symptoms by offering her a "nerve pill" which he swore was nonaddictive.
Madeline gratefully accepted the samples in spite of her
misgivings, planning to take them only as a means of assuaging her
problems long enough to allow for an effective solution and help her get
back into a normal routine. And though Dr. Bingham never verbalized a
name for her malady, she discovered it on the prescription's packaging-
panic and anxiety disorder. Wow! Well at least she now knew what she was
dealing with.The information packet also touted cognitive and behavioral therapy
and aerobic exercise as viable methods of coping with this miserable
condition. Maddy had already employed the latter via bike riding, brisk
walking and swimming; pursuing the former hadn't even occurred to her
until that very moment. She immediately determined that she would
return to Florida, where she'd seek out professional help and finally put
an end to this painful chapter of her life.
And though her parents harbored real and valid concerns, Madeline
knew that answers she sought were waiting for her in her adoptive state;
as comforting as it was to be around those who loved her, it was time to
deal with this newly defined issue in her own way.
* * *
Upon returning to her lakeside condo in Windwood, she began
weekly therapy sessions with a highly respected psychologist in
Hollywood. She also secured a marketing position with a local nonprofit
organization, thanks to her involvement in the Professional Women of South
Florida, a networking group she'd originally joined with Isabella, who'd
since sold her business and embarked upon a new career in real estate. At
PWSF, Madeline formed solid friendships with many wonderful people
including Elyse Lombard, whose family owned a successful moving
business, Audrey Solomon, a brilliant foot and ankle surgeon and Carolyn
Charlton, a gregarious and talented nurse in the home health field.
During Madeline's absence, all three remained in regular contact out
of authentic concern and interest. Once she'd made the decision to come
back, Audrey and Carolyn had helped to ease her financial burdens by
recommending her to the Down Syndrome Network, an advocacy group in
need of assistance with publicity, programs and the procurement of funds.
And though Maddy lacked experience in the not-for-profit world, her
intensely personal knowledge of the condition had fueled a natural
passion and exuberance that came across quite dramatically during the
interview process. Best of all, the office was located less than two miles
from her Windwood condo, though she planned to sell it as soon as
circumstances permitted.
Having managed to develop a genuine, platonic relationship with
Mark Donnelly in the months following their initial meeting, he'd assisted
her in purchasing her three-bedroom, two-bath residence by the water. It
hadn't occurred to Madeline that living in the same community-
sprawling as it was-might ultimately lead to more heartache by
increasing the odds of bumping into him. And though she'd told herself
she'd risen above any lingering romantic fantasies where Mark was
concerned, her heart would skip a beat on those sporadic occasions when
she'd see him rollerblading with his children, driving through the entrance
or jogging along the trail that encircled the entire development.
But these innocuous incidents paled in comparison to witnessing
Candice La Mont, the beautiful, middle-aged daughter of a Boca Raton
business icon, move in with Mark almost one year after the infamous
incident at Maddy's Boca Del Mar apartment. And though she'd discuss
these and other issues in-depth with her therapist, countless sessions-
while helpful to a certain extent-had led her to a frustrating plateau. Yes,
she could now successfully hold a job and navigate through social
situations again, but she still lacked a profound sense of complete
wholeness and wellbeing.
Weekly yoga classes, continuous reading of spiritual books, daily
prayer and consistent attendance at Mass were also contributing to her
recovery, yet something remained elusive. Maddy couldn't quite pinpoint
it, although she persistently researched other remedies. It was simply
unacceptable that she had to learn to live with a perpetually sour stomach,
fuzzy head and general feeling of unease.
And then one fateful night, consumed with determined thoughts of
relocating to another comparable condo community, and a palpable desire
to finally end this relentless scourge of anxiety, she made an acquaintance
that would alter her life forever.