The Romance Novel Cure (22 page)

“It probably sounds so dorky but when I was a kid, my best friend had a little sister. I thought it was so cool how he was all protective of her. He was like, nobody ever hurts my sister. Like that. I thought it would be… I used to imagine I had a sister. You know, I don’t have a brother or sister. I wish I had a sister like you, Alma. I can’t help but think of you as a little sister.”

His gaze was so frank, innocent, and kind. She felt it all the way to her heart. She closed her eyes and nodded. “I would have loved to have a brother like you, Ben, a big brother.” She felt tears come into her eyes and she smiled through them.
If only
, she thought,
if only
.
Not a big brother
… And then the guilt for even thinking that came crashing down. How could her heart take this? She smiled again, feeling it wobble, and stood up quickly, nodding, and went back to her desk.

Somehow, the rest of the afternoon passed by, every minute feeling ten times as long. Finally, Alma was in her car. She waited until everyone else had driven from the small parking lot. Then she got out her phone and searched for the therapist’s name from the website Ben had been working on. To her surprise, the call was picked up, a woman with a young sounding voice answering.

“Hello,” stammered Alma. “I’ve never called a … therapist before. I’m having a problem and I wondered if I could make an appointment with you?” She wasn’t sure how it worked. She looked out the window at the sky that was still so blue, the evenings starting to stretch out and lengthen as summer approached. It was still warm, too. She had the windows rolled down. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the dry air which was starting to take on that summer fragrance, she thought.

“Would you like to come right now?” The therapist spoke again. “I just had a cancellation, if you are free?”

“Yes,” she answered. “I think I would like that.”

After getting directions, Alma ended the call and drove a short distance to the small building that housed the therapist’s office.

“Hi, I’m MacIntyre. Call me Mac.” The long-haired, smiling woman who opened the door looked so young, Alma blinked.

“Hello, nice to meet you, I’m Alma,” she said nervously.

Mac gestured toward a couple of chairs as she sat down on another one. She smoothed her floral dress under her. Alma sat down and wondered what to say. Mac handed her a clipboard of some general questions. The paperwork process helped Alma feel a little calmer.

“So, you said you were having a problem? Would you like to tell me a little bit about that? Just dive in?” Mac’s voice was very gentle and kind.

“Okay. I’ve never seen a therapist before. I mean, I’m sure I’ve seen one! But, never worked with one.”

Mac laughed. “I knew what you meant.”

“Right. Okay. So, my problem is that I have feelings for someone who is off limits. Completely. So I’m trying to get over this crush, this infatuation. My aunt has been doing a twelve step program to break her cycle of addictive patterns, and I have been trying to use steps like that, to help me stop obsessing over this person.”

“Oh, that’s so hard,” said Mac, sympathetically. “How amazing that you’ve got this strategy to cope. It sounds so innovative and creative!”

Alma blinked. She was somehow surprised that a therapist would respond so warmly, so naturally. She felt herself relaxing a little more, settling into the comfortable chair. “It has been hard, yes.” She breathed in and out. Mac’s eyes were steady on hers.

“This person, this unavailable person,” said Mac, seeming to think as she spoke slowly. “How often do you see this person?”

“Every day, well, five days a week, and sometimes once on the weekend, if plans are made.”

“Sounds as though this might be someone you work with, if that’s okay to ask?”

“You’d never tell, right? You’d never say anything to anyone, if you knew who…” Alma felt tense. This was such a secret.

“First of all, complete confidentiality. I would never say anything to anyone. Your privacy, your feelings… they are so important to me.” Mac spoke quietly, but with passion, sitting forward.

Alma nodded, relaxing again. “Yes, it’s someone I work with.”

Mac sat back. After a moment, she spoke again. “Is there any possible way that you can work from home with the job that you have? For a certain limited amount of time?”

“I think so,” she said. She had never thought about it, but it seemed possible.

“To me, it seems that all the work you are doing to get over the feelings you have for this person, gosh, it must be so hard when there this person is, every day. Your response to him has become this kind of expected reaction, and there he is, triggering it. If you could just take a couple of weeks? A month? To not see this person, not hear his voice, I think that would help.”

Alma nodded. “I never even thought to ask. I will ask my boss tomorrow.”

“If it seems as though it would help?” Mac had so much concern in her eyes, Alma was moved.

“I think it could. Just… like  you said. Not seeing him, every day. Hearing him. I know that I’d still think about him. But… I just wish it could be like before. When all I felt was friendship. Why did it change? Now, it’s like I’ve ruined everything. What if I feel this way forever?” Tears flooded her eyes and she sat back, embarrassed.

“When you feel really sad or upset about something, it’s completely natural to feel as though this might be it, it’s how you will feel every day for the rest of your life. But, Alma, things change. Things move forward. I’m sure that you’ll be free of this sadness, and that you’ll find your way to happiness.”

“Thank you.” Alma wiped her eyes with a tissue she took from a box on a side table.

“I know we’ve just met, so I don’t want to be intrusive, but could I ask you some questions?” Mac’s voice was very quiet and gentle. Alma nodded, feeling comfortable and curious about what Mac might ask.

“Two questions, and sorry if they sound random, but, I’ll just ask and you answer only if you feel comfortable doing so. First: father. Second: romantic relationships. Can you tell me a little about both, just so I have a sense of what might inform your feelings for the person you have feelings for?”

Alma was surprised at her questions. She crossed her legs and thought for a minute. “Not much to say about either. My father and mother divorced when I was really young, about four or five, and he moved back to Mexico. We… haven’t kept in touch. My mother never remarried, never even dated. She has had the same government job, she has kept the house exactly the same as it was all this time. As far as boyfriends, well, I really only had one serious relationship. It was in college. Andres. We met when I was a freshman, he was a senior. He lived in Wisconsin, so we had a long distance relationship for nearly all of the time we were together, and we broke up when I was a senior. I felt… I felt as though I was drowning. He needed me so much. I felt very guilty breaking up with him, because he always seemed so fragile emotionally, to me. But I felt that we had had so much distance between us for so long, I finally just couldn’t do it anymore. And then, after that, I tried to date a little, but my heart wasn’t in it. Then I got an internship, graduated, got this job I have. Really, I haven’t had time to date.” She kicked her foot back and forth, not knowing what else to say. She shrugged, finally looking up at Mac. To her surprise, she saw Mac’s eyes were full of pain and some kind of respect.

“If I ask you to quickly tell me one word, just one word when I say something, could you just blurt it out, without changing it?” Mac’s steady regard never wavered.

“Yes.” Alma waited.

“Father.”

“Gone.”

“Boyfriend.”

“Distance.” Alma’s eyes filled with tears again. “Wow.”

“One more?” Mac’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Alma nodded.

“Crush.”

“Never. Never for me. I’ll never, ever be able to have him, the way I wish I could. The way I… the way I want him. And I want him so much. And that’s so wrong!” Alma broke down and cried quietly into her hands. She felt Mac’s presence, her steady, caring presence, close by, and it comforted her. Finally, she lifted her head. “Someone asked me out. Today, actually. And I feel so confused because, I don’t know. I feel scared.”

Mac nodded, looking unsurprised. “This is how it all happens.” She looked almost happy, in a quiet way.

“What do you mean?” Alma was mystified.

“It’s like our hearts know what to do. To heal and move forward. We carry with us such specific hurts from our childhood, and then we don’t know how to go about fixing our broken hearts. So we stick to old patterns, even though that doesn’t work. And then, something shifts, there’s some catalyst and boom: things start to change. It’s harder at first. Really painful and confusing. But on the other side of that? Happiness.” Mac’s eyes shone.

“Really?” Alma wiped her eyes. “Really? All that?”

Mac nodded.

“Am I really dysfunctional or something? I never even think about my father anymore. I haven’t talked with him since, gosh, since I was seven or eight years old. Do you think I need years and years of therapy or something? And my ex-boyfriend, gosh, it wasn’t all bad times or anything. He was a really sweet, sensitive person. Maybe it was messed up, I always felt I need to take care of him, but we had some good times.” Alma felt confused, overwhelmed.

“I don’t think you are dysfunctional at all, Alma. I think you are growing. And I think that’s a wonderful thing. We all go through times where we face challenges and face our past and grow. If we turn away from those times, we miss out. We really miss out on a lot.”

Alma nodded, comforted. She still felt very curious, not having realized there could be so much under the surface of her feelings. “Thank you. I’m going to think about all of this. A lot.”

“The person who asked you on a date.” Mac’s face was neutral. “Did you say yes?”

Alma was flooded with the memory of Daniel sitting so close to her, his arm draped over her lap. How his shirt had looked, how his strong arm had felt under her hands. How she had drawn on him, leaning even closer, smelling the scent of his skin mixing with the scent of the markers and his clean shirt, feeling him breathe. She got a feeling of electricity and energy coursing through her, and she closed her eyes for a moment. She felt a smile tug on the corners of her mouth. “I said yes.” She opened her eyes and smiled.

Mac smiled, too. She smiled so big her eyes squinted shut. “Good. Good.”

When the session was over, Alma felt lighter. Mac encouraged her to check in whenever she wanted to. She made it seem so easy and natural. Alma felt reassured and confident, somehow, feeling that Mac was there to help her, but wasn’t pressuring her to make more appointments, as though there was some dire need.

When she got in her car, she called Scott at home. She heard his children in the background when he picked up. “Scott, I’m so sorry to bother you at home, I’m probably interrupting dinner.”

“Bother me at home, Alma, what are you talking about? You’re hurting my feelings, acting like I want boundaries in my life!” He laughed and she relaxed. “We already ate and now we’re playing outside in the yard. Patrick set up an obstacle course. Meemaw, careful! Oh, she’s doing it. You should come over.”

“Thanks, but I had a question, and I should wait until tomorrow to ask you, but I’m nervous about it so I selfishly want to get it over with, so that’s why I’m calling now.”

“Okay, now I’m in a complete panic, what is wrong, oh my gosh, are you okay?”

“I’ll just ask you, I’ll just say it right away, directly… is there anyway I could work from home? For a while? Maybe two weeks? Maybe a little longer?”

Scott was silent.

“Oh my gosh, is that not okay to even ask? I just thought, the projects I’m doing, I can totally do from my laptop, all the calls I can make from my phone, if that’s all right?”

“Please don’t quit.” Scott sounded anguished.

“I don’t want to quit!” Alma was surprised. “I love my job so much!”

“Ever since I was a little, lonely kid and my favorite television show was
Designing Women
, I dreamed I would have a place where I worked with my friends. We’d all be creative and supportive and, and have hijinks. And that dream came true. I don’t want to lose you, you’re so important to me. You do such amazing work, too, and it’s crazy how your skills keep expanding and growing in all these directions. You want to go off and start your own business, just admit it, don’t you. You do.”

“No! I want to work at Graphite forever but I want… I want it to feel the way it used to. For me. I just saw a therapist, Scott. For the first time in my life. She thinks that if I didn’t see Ben every day, it might help me get over my crush.” Alma lowered her voice and glanced around as she spoke.

“That makes complete sense. I’m sorry my response was so self-absorbed. And you know, I hope, that you will have my complete support if you do strike off on your own. I just can’t think about that right now. Could we check in at least once a day by text or phone call? Take all the time you need.” Scott sounded so reassuring and calm, Alma felt better. “Thanks, Scott. Will you… will you explain to Ben, something about a personal leave? I don’t know what to say, but promise me, I know you won’t but promise me, you won’t say anything. You know.”

“I promise,” he said soothingly. “Everything will be okay.”

“I’ll call Laura.”

“Okay.”

Alma took a deep breath. The thought of not having to summon strength to face Ben tomorrow gave her such a feeling of relief. At the same time, the thought of not seeing him, probably for a while, filled her chest with such bitter sorrow. She shook her head sadly. What a mess. “Thanks, Scott.” She cleared her throat.

“Of course, anything, anytime. Always. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. Bye. Say hi to Patrick and the kids and Meemaw.”

“Will do, sweetheart. Bye.”

Alma began to drive home. It seemed that she was looking at everything with fresh eyes. She drove slowly, taking everything in. Once in her apartment, she couldn’t settle. She watered her plants on her small patio. She poured herself a glass of water, but her throat felt tight and she set the glass down. At the kitchen table, she opened her laptop and went to her blog.