2. Dr. Carlton Draco McMasters “Draco”
OVER TWO AND A HALF WEEKS LATER…
“I had a dream about fish last night,” my mother, DaWanda, said from where she stood over a pot of grits.
When she didn’t get the immediate response that she thought she would, she turned around with her hand on her thick hip. Instead of responding, I gave my dad, Carl, the eye that he knew all too well. It was the get your wife eye. Every other week, my mother dreamed about fish or anything that related with me giving her a grandchild.
“DaWanda, you should have dreamed about fish since me and son here are going fishing this weekend. The only reason you should see fish is to see how you’re going to cook them this time. Now, leave that boy alone.”
My mom rolled her pretty eyes. “I wouldn’t call thirty-six a boy, but alright. Can’t knock an old lady for wanting a precious grandbaby to love on.”
My mom loved to throw that little guilt trip on me as if it were my fault that she and my father had me later in life. My parents were forty-six and forty-four years old when they had me. Respectively, they were now eighty-two and eighty. Both were in exceptional health, but I knew my mom more than my dad had a fear that she would go to glory before I had a chance to bless her with a grandchild. I understood her fear. Little did she know, that was a fear of mine as well.
At thirty-six, I should have had at least four kids by now. I’d always wanted a big family since I was an only child. I grew up primarily alone with parents that were older than most of my friends’ parents. I was teased well into high school about having old parents. I was blessed to say that their age didn’t matter with the support, love, and affection that they gave me my entire life. They never missed an accomplishment in any of the arenas of my life.
“Mom, I promise you that when God sends me another true love, I will immediately put a baby in her. I swear to you that I will.”
I meant that with everything in me. I refused to have children with someone that was not meant to be my forever. I’d seen too many homes broken in my line of work as a counselor, therapist, and psychologist. Yes, sometimes relationships do not work, but there were healthy ways to co-parent to raise mentally stable children. I, unfortunately, had seen more of the opposite of that.
When I was twenty-four, my wife, Samantha Nicole, tragically died before we could be blessed with children. We’d been together since we were nineteen, and I married her less than a year after meeting her. We talked religiously about the kind of parents that we wanted to be. I had known since I was a freshman in high school that I wanted to go into the psychology field.
In the eighth grade, my parents put me in therapy against the advisement of most of their family because of my anger issues. Again, with older parents, kids were assholes, and I returned the favor by being a bigger asshole. I bullied the fuck out of the bullies, which made me the bad guy. It’s not the stimulus. It’s the response. That’s what I was told time and time again. Well, at that age, my response was fuck their stimulus.
“Well, Son, what God has for you is for you. If he promised you something, he is obligated to give it to you.” My dad reminded me.
Life was a hard road in Norfolk, Virginia. My parents struggled to make sure I had what I needed, and I would forever thank them and take care of them because of that. When I received the opportunity to better our lives as well as move from Virginia, I took it. Norfolk held too many bad memories. Plus, I’d spilled more blood in those streets out of rage than I would like to admit. After I was recruited by Christianson Enterprises, they paid for the completion of my studies at Old Dominion University. Soon after, I moved me and my parents to Summerville, South Carolina.
I purchased some land and built a large home that had a wing just for them. Five years after moving, I retired my dad. Now, all he did was fish, watch sports and his crime shows, play poker, and love and travel with my mom. A cruise hated to see them coming. That was exactly how I loved it.
“I know, Dad. I know. I’m patiently waiting for her. Trust me. You’ll be the first to know.”
My dad was my best friend. There was nothing that I couldn’t tell him. My father worked as a plant worker all my life. My mother worked as a housekeeper and cook for many years. I remember writing Santa when I was a little boy to ask him for a million dollars so she didn’t have to be in those white people’s house feeding and cleaning after them. Santa must have passed the letter to God, because that million may not have come when I wanted it, but it was on time.
It was rare that an employee of Christianson Enterprises in the disposal department wasn’t a millionaire. Not only did the under the table contracts pay well, but the government and private sector contracts were just as lucrative. The government used more than their military forces to carry out missions that required the disposal of individuals. I was the man that could snipe out your life as well as fix your mental health. If you added on the option in our benefits to invest a portion of our paychecks with Washington-Smith Brokerage Firm, then it was understood how the organization bred millionaires. Khiaere Washington called it black wealth expansion.
I sat with my parents for a little while longer before I left to get to my office. I was blessed to have my own practice. On staff, I had two additional clinical psychologists and five therapists that specialized in various areas. We were a one-stop practice when it came to this mental health and wellness thing.
“Dr. McMasters, Ruth had breakfast sent over for the staff. It’s in the breakroom if you’re hungry,” my assistant, Kourtney, said as soon as I walked into my space in the office.
This was a common thing for Ruth and Mega. At least twice a week, they sent over breakfast and lunch for my staff. I’d offered to pay for it, but Mega cursed my ass out. They had come a long way since I first began working with them. Their progress was one of my proudest accomplishments. The fact that they still were consistent with their sessions both as a couple and individually made my psychologist heart smile.
“Thank you, Kourtney. I’ll check it out after I put my things down. I still have an hour before they arrive for their session, correct?”
After she confirmed, I headed to my office to pull their file before I went to see what was on the menu today.
Breakfast and lunch were never the same thing unless we requested it. Sometimes, breakfast was as simple as sausage, bacon, ham and egg biscuits with fruit, and hashbrowns. Other times, it would be the full spread of proteins, grits, eggs, pancakes, waffles, and more. I loved that they took care of my staff like they did.
Outside of our sessions, my relationship with Mega had developed deeper than just patient/therapist. He was my brother. His kids were my nieces and nephews in my eyes. At one point, I asked if he wanted me to pass his file to one of the other therapists in my office since we now had a deeper friendship. He and Ruth said that they would rather have me in their business than anyone else. Plus, I was able to be unbiased when it came to working with them as patients.
“Oh, they did their big one today.”
Today’s breakfast menu was shrimp, fish, bacon, corn beef hash, grits, eggs, and an assortment of fruit. Glory Soul Food was located in Coreland, so the fact that they had someone deliver to my office in Summerville, which was twenty to thirty minutes away, said a lot. I wasn’t a huge man, but I wasn’t a little one either. I still had my football physique from going to the gym almost every day. Well, I went to the gym inside of my home.
I finished my breakfast just in time to brush my teeth and fix my coffee. With Megatron, you needed something to keep you even kilter. That nigga was a lot of a lot. Ten minutes after I got back into my office, he and Ruth arrived.
“What’s up, Doc McMasters?”
I dapped him up then gave Ruth a warm smile. Mega was a man that didn’t allow any man to touch his wife unless it was in the case of a medical emergency or her life was in jeopardy. I respected that shit because I was the same way. Smiles were just as strong as hugs when it came to greetings. What made it better was Ruth understood it and didn’t allow another man to touch her.
“Y’all have a seat. How’s everything been going since our last session?”
We were at a place where they came once a month as a couple and every two weeks individually. When they first started their sessions, they came every two weeks as a couple and every week individually.
“Doc, I think I need to get my boys scheduled for some therapy. It ain’t no way their asses are as bad as they are. Ruth thinks it’s cute, but I be wanting to chop their demon twin asses in the cuff of their knees. I don’t remember this hardship with my baby Maggie. Hell, Maggie even say them boys bad.”
No smile accompanied Mega’s words. He was serious as he usually was. That was what made the majority of things that he said hilarious. I didn’t want to laugh because of my professionalism. When Ruth smacked him in the back of the head, my laughter had a mind of its own.
“Mega, the boys are only eighteen months old. Furthermore, you are their father. What if I told you that you had little mini yous?”
He was not pleased with my words. The tightness of his face was comical. When he closed his eyes and bowed his head, me and Ruth knew what it was. I wasn’t about to play with this man about his prayer life no matter how professional I was. I was happy to see that he was talking to the Big G on a more consistent basis now. It took a lot to get him here.
“Aye, Big G, it’s your fav. Look, I feel like demons are moving against my baby boys. Now, God, I know You blessed me and Ruth with our babies, and I praise your name, but you know how you can get something then something on it malfunctions so the company does a recall? You simply take that thing in and they fix it at no cost? Yeah, so if You can, do a recall on Matthew and Joseph’s, affectionately known as Thing 1 and Thing 2, bad behavior function. I need You to take that whole function out because they don’t need it.
“I promise they will operate fine without it. God, You blessed me more times than I can count. Bless me one more time, Lord! I rather You take that bad function than me send them to You early. They bad, God. Their mama down here talking about they’re just being boys like I’m not a boy. Fix it, God. Amen.”
Ruth and I gave him an Amen.
“Well, since you prayed about it, I’m going to leave it alone for now. Let me know how the Big G handles it and if we need to revisit it.”
I wanted to slide right past that because Mega literally had mini Megas. At eighteen months, Matthew and Joseph were saying more words than any other children their age. A lot of that was because of the heavy attention Ruth, Naomi, and Goldie gave to teaching them words. Since they were three months old, they had flash cards, educational toys, and shows in their face. That was the kind of parent that I prayed to be when I was blessed with my babies.
“How has the communication been going? Ruth, are we getting better with your active listening? Mega, what about your selective listening?”
Pretty early on in their sessions, I was able to identify that they both tended to not listen to each other but in different forms. Ruth listened not to understand what her husband was saying rather than to have something to say back. Because she often wasn’t listening to understand, she would either take what she heard out of context or just hear it in a different way than it was said altogether. Mega, on the other hand, heard what he wanted to hear and disregarded the rest. Naturally, that was frustrating for both of them.
I wanted both of them to work toward deeper listening where they would not only be hearing what the other said, but they would also be able to read between the lines of what was said. We still had a lot of work to do, but it would be worth it in the end. As we climbed the ladder of listening, that would be a foundation for everything else. It often started with listening.
Ruth gave me her coy smile. Her smile and Mega’s side eye told me all that I needed to know in that moment.
“I’m still working. In my defense, you know like I know when you’re talking to Mega, you have to sift through a lot of the humor and sarcasm.”
“Are you restating what he says to you to ensure that he said what you heard?”
That was important when active listening. If you weren’t truly hearing exactly what they said, then how could you begin to understand what was said? Assumption was the devil in every avenue of life.
Mega raised his hand. “I can answer that. No, she doesn’t. The only time her ass repeats what I say is when she’s on this dick. She listens exceptionally then. Doc, I can’t keep dick in her twenty-four-seven just to get her to actively listen to me.”
Why, God? Why is he like this? It was like the more you asked that question, the more Mega, Mega-ed. It was bothersome to many. You had to know how to accept and understand him. Now that he didn’t have the killing outlet any longer, he was even more aggravating sometimes. I had considered going to Mont and Jacob to tell them to contract him at least twice a year.
“I heard what you just said, Megatron. I understand that you feel the only time I listen to you is when we are engaged in some form of sexual intercourse. I’m sorry that you feel that way because that is not my intent. Also, fuck you.” She shifted her body toward me. “How is that for active listening?”
There was a lot going on at that moment. Mega sat back with his arms across himself with a hand on his chest and a shocked expression. Ruth sat back with a pout and her arms across her breasts. One thing that I could say about them as a couple was that the only place you would see them openly act this way toward each other was here or in the confines of their home. For those not in their immediate circle, they gave the appearance of a perfect married couple.
“Ruth, you were doing good up until the fuck you. What have we discussed about offense and offended?”
Her eyes cut between me and her husband. “Offense is an event. Offended is a decision.”
“That is correct. Mega, what have we discussed about thinking before you speak?”
Mega sat forward in his seat. “Doc, if I had to fully think out everything before I said it, then I might as well not speak. I would need to create a talk flow so I could have queued up responses. People be saying too much too often.”
“Everything doesn’t require a response, Mega. It’s alright to nod and not speak. It’s alright to even respectfully walk away. Last session with you, I told you to become an unbothered son of the Big G. I also gave you an assignment to find me a Bible verse that supported that effort. Did you find one?”
When counseling Mega, I learned that incorporating the Bible helped him because of his desire to have a relationship with God. I used any resource to assist my patients. If it was religion in a positive manner, then that was what I would use.
“Yeah, I did. Romans 8:18 says, ‘ I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.’”
I took in his words as well as the smile of pride that displayed on Ruth’s face.
“Can you explain to me how that verse feeds into being unbothered?”
“If you truly want to be unbothered, you have to not fall into the trap of being worried or moving in the flesh about something that is not in the will of God for your life. What someone says to me shouldn’t faze my spirit because I should be unbothered. Their words and potential wrongdoing toward me is nothing compared to the blessing that God has prepared for me. Instead of worrying or being bothered, I should lean on the promise of Psalm 23:5.”
When I asked him what Psalm 23:5 said, Ruth answered for him. There she went, standing in the gap. That was one of her honorable qualities that I loved. No matter how annoyed or upset she was with her husband, she always had his back.
“It says, ‘ You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oils, my cup overflows.’”
I knew the scripture well myself because I grew up Baptist. My father was a deacon at the church we attended in Norfolk. They attend a church here in Summerville, but he said he just wanted to be a general member this time around.
“With that being said, Mega, I want you to focus on the non-response or the respectful walk away. Can we do that?”
I was sure that my request would yield an answer that was acceptable in his eyes but not many others. Although I knew that to be true, I also knew that he would try to do what I asked. The great thing about Mega was that he wanted to be better, not just for his family but for himself.
His inner brows kissed before he nodded his head. He glanced down at his watch.
“It looks like our time is up. I’m going to start that respectful walk away thing now. It was good to talk to you today, Doc.”
This man stood from his seat then reached his hand out to his wife. She looked at his hand with a smirk and head shake. She placed her hand into his.
“I’ll see you next week, Dr. McMasters.”
They both walked toward the door. Before Mega stepped out, he turned around.
“Draco, you still coming out with us this weekend?”
“Yeah. I’ll be there.”
Once a month, the men and women in the circle of friends separated to have time with each other. I recently started attending to get in the mix a little more. I was, by nature, a loner. My late wife was all I needed. When I lost her, I found it hard to get close to anyone, male or female. Recently, I had to step back to realize that the therapist needed a therapist. I chose a therapist outside of my practice, of course.
A suggestion from my therapist was to try to hang with a group. I should find it less intimidating than just hanging with one person. As far as females, I didn’t fuck with them. I was not raised to be a man that had casual relationships with women.
When I entertained a woman, I determined in the first sixty days whether she was someone that I saw a forever with. That time did not include sex of any kind. Sex could cloud judgment as well as cause unnecessary ties to people that you had no business being connected to. The same thought process of women thinking that their pussy is the treasure, I knew for sure that my dick was. Had it always been like that, no. I had been celibate for over six years. Before then, I lived a wild, irresponsible life trying to heal my broken heart from the loss of my wife.
Being celibate was not an easy thing to do, especially for a man. One day, I decided that I wanted to hold something special for my future wife. My therapist let me know that I would never find my wife if I spent all of my time in my house. I guess he’s right.
After I walked Mega and Ruth out, Kourtney stopped me on the way in to hand me the file of my newest patient. I always set an hour between sessions if the succeeding session was for a new patient. I needed time to read their files. There were times that the files could be extensive. Once the patient was seen for the first time, the file was digitalized. I looked at the tab on the file— Taelyn Smith.
“Thank you, Kourtney. When she gets here, let me know, and I’ll come out to greet her.”
I opened the file after I sat at my desk. Oh, she works for Christianson Enterprises. It wasn’t uncommon for my patients to work there as I did. I was one of the preferred providers for the organization. The patient was allowed to freely speak and know that my office was truly, in every aspect of the word, a safe place.
From her file, I saw that she was involved in a domestic situation over a year ago that involved a kidnapping. Damn! Anyone would need therapy after that. I saw that she had not seen a therapist or psychologist prior to me. I wonder why it took so long for her to get help. She worked in the technology department of Christianson Enterprises, and she was twenty-eight years old.
My sessions were pretty much free talk, as I called it. In the first session, however, I did jot down some initial questions to make sure the pertinent information that I needed was not forgotten. Kourtney’s voice through the intercom letting me know that Taelyn had arrived pulled me from the task at hand. I told her to give me ten minutes and I would be out to greet her. I made it a habit to disinfect the couch and table that the patient might use.
I pulled my office door open that led to the lobby. Once there, I smiled at the sight of Mont Smith. Smith.
“What’s up, Doc? How you doing today?” Mont greeted me with a hand dap.
“Nothing at all. I’m doing amazingly. What brings you in?”
I could assume that he was connected to Taelyn Smith, but I wouldn’t assume that. I scanned the lobby and didn’t see anyone. Where is she?
“I’m my sister’s ride. I had to make sure her spoiled ass actually came, so I decided to be her chauffeur. She went to the bathroom.”
Taelyn is his sister. “Alright, man. Yeah, we want to make sure she comes to her appointments. Are you going to bri?—”
My words got caught in my throat at the sight of a beautiful, voluptuous woman. The jeans she wore kissed every curve on her thick ass body. She wore her hair in those twist braids with loose hair coming out of them. My view was cut by Mont stepping in front of me.
“You going to finish your sentence, Doc?” His brow was arched with the corner of his lip.
I shook it off. “Yes, sorry. I was asking if you will be bringing her to all appointments.”
“No, he will not. He didn’t have to take me to this one. Annoying brothers will be annoying brothers, I’m learning.”
She’s feisty. I like that shit. “I take it that you’re Taelyn Smith. I’m Dr. Carlton McMasters. How are you doing today?”
She placed her hand in my extended hand. Fuck!
“I’m doing fine… a bit annoyed… but fine.”
She rolled her eyes toward her brother. I wanted to break the tension to get her in a better headspace.
“My office is the door at the end of the hall. If you’d like, you can head back.”
She glanced between me and her brother before she nodded and moved down the hall. With her fat ass. I made sure to turn my attention back to Mont in an acceptable timeframe.
“Her sessions are an hour, so you can either wait or come back. It’s up to you.”
Mont glared at me for a second. “Doc, you know I respect the fuck out of you. All I’m going to say is that’s my baby sister. Tread lightly. If you feel like you can’t objectively do your job, please pass her on to someone who can.”
“I understand and respect your words. If it ever comes to a point that I can’t do my job, then I will definitely pass her on. Just to make sure we are on the same page when I say can’t do my job, I mean that I have taken a deeper interest in your sister that would make it unethical for me to continue as her therapist. If I choose to, trust me, it will be with care. Let me get in here so I don’t waste her session time.”
I extended my hand to him again. His head tilted before he let out a chuckle.
“You got that for now, Doc. I’ll be back in an hour.”
I watched him as he walked out the door. I stood there until I heard Kourtney’s snickering.
“Are you okay, Dr. McMasters?”
“Yep, I’m just fine.”
I pivoted on my heels to move down the hallway toward my office. Before I opened the door, I took a deep breath. God, help me with this one.