1 Kierra
1
Kierra
Present Day
Claire Dune was having a bad day. Or a bad string of days. She was convinced hers was a bad life. She’d sat across from me in my comfy chairs three times a week over the past few months to inform me just how bad a life she’d been living.
My notebook stayed in my grip as I listened attentively to each syllable that fell from her mouth. I studied not only her word choices, but also the way she moved when she expressed them. I had noticed over the past few months that her story seemed to grow ever more intense. I’d also noticed that if I didn’t solely agree with her, she’d say I was acting just like her mother.
“ You just don’t get me ,” she complained as she flopped backward in her chair. “No one gets me.”
“I get you, Claire. I see you, and I am learning more and more each time. I know I am still new to you, but I think we’ve had a few breakthroughs. I’m really proud of your progression over the last few weeks. Unfortunately, we are out of time for today.”
She glanced up at the clock, grimaced, and then turned to me. “But I need to tell you more.”
“Yes, and I am excited to hear more during our next scheduled appointment.” I stood. “But these next few days, remember to make a list each day. Every time you have a negative thought, think of what the opposite thought would be, and try to sit in that for a while. To feel the opposite of—”
“ Dread ?”
I smiled. “Of whatever the emotion is. Then tackle it from there and see what steps you could take to get closer to that feeling.”
“Fine. But if it doesn’t work, I’m not paying my bill,” she warned.
“Yes, well, that’s not how this works. For now, though, enjoy your weekend. I’ll see you next week.”
She stood and dragged her feet. “If I make it that long,” she muttered.
“You have to make it that long. Rumor has it that Kehlani is coming out with a new song next week.”
She perked up slightly. “She is?”
“Yup. Just saw a post online. Plus, that new movie with Zendaya is around the corner. You haven’t missed one of her movies yet, and it would be a shame if you started now.”
Her thick brown brows knit, and she pushed out her bottom lip. She scratched the back of her neck. “Well, it wouldn’t be very girls’ girl of me if I checked out before supporting both of them.”
“That’s very true. And we are all about being a girls’ girl,” I said as I slightly nudged her. “Three things before you go, other than Kehlani and Zendaya.”
“Ugh. Can’t they count?”
“Nope. Three things that made you smile this week.” At the end of every session, I have patients tell me three things that make them smile. It can be big things or small things. Just to help them see that there isn’t only darkness around them. That there is still something good to seek in life.
She grumbled and pushed her fingers against her brows. “Fine,” she said. “Well, my garden is all dug up. My neighbor helped me and he picked up some seeds for me to plant.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Peter?”
“Yeah, Peter.” Her cheeks slightly blushed. “It’s just a nice gesture. Don’t read into it.”
I tossed my hands up. “Not reading into anything.” Except that I was completely reading into it. Claire had told me she had a crush on her neighbor Peter for the past two years, but never had the courage to speak to him. This was a much bigger step than she realized. We’d revisit that next week.
“Oh! And I got a raise at work. Only a dollar more an hour, but that was good,” she added with a small curve to her lips.
“Claire! That’s remarkable and a big achievement. I know you were nervous to ask for the raise, but it worked out.”
“Yeah. I guess people do need to speak up for themselves sometimes… Oh! I know my third thing.” She was almost full-blown smiling as the memory came back to her. “My niece said her first word and it was ‘Claire.’”
There was a flutter in my stomach at the mention of the little girl. “Oh my goodness. That’s something worthy of making top three. She must love you so much.”
“She does,” Claire agreed. “She’s a good kid.”
“Who loves you,” I added. “There are so many people who love you, Claire. And each of their worlds is better with you in it.”
She grew slightly bashful and shrugged. “You’re not that shitty at your job.”
I laughed. “I guess that’s why you keep coming back.”
“Yes, I suppose so. But your free candy helps,” she half-joked as she grabbed a piece from my desk. As she did, she paused and studied the photograph of my daughter, Ava. Her smile faded. “Is that your daughter?”
“She is.”
“Is she one of your good things?”
I nodded. “She’s the best thing.”
“She doesn’t really look like you,” she observed as she tilted her head. “Does she look like her dad?”
I didn’t reply, even though the answer was yes. My daughter looked more like her father than she’d ever look like me. Having Claire mention that fact made me sadder than I thought it would.
I smiled, not wanting to dive deeper into my private life. Ava was my daughter through my marriage to Henry. I’d known her since she was five years old. She’d just turned fourteen and was hands down the greatest thing that had ever happened to me. Still, I didn’t want to overshare with Claire. It was important to keep things professional. The more my clients knew about me, the worse off it could be.
Claire frowned. That wasn’t uncommon for her, and I hated that it was that way. She had a remarkable smile whenever it appeared. “I always wanted kids.”
“That’s still an option.”
“I don’t know. I just don’t see it sometimes for me.” She shifted and nodded toward the photograph. “Is her dad like you?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly.
I raised an eyebrow. “Like me?”
“You know…” She crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged her left shoulder. “ Good .”
I pushed out another grin, though this one didn’t feel as great as the ones prior. “He loves his daughter.” Her frown deepened, yet before she could reply, I said, “I’ll see you next week.”
“Yeah, right. Okay. See you next week, Kierra.”
She left my office seemingly just as sad—if not sadder—than when she came in, which was hard for me to see. Yet I understood that breakthroughs looked different for everyone after a therapy session. Sometimes, people left in tears and feeling worse than when they came in. That was part of healing, though. Sometimes things seemed to be getting worse before they got better.
My mom always said resolving issues was like decluttering a house. You emptied all the closet spaces into the living room, making a big mess before organizing and clearing out the junk that was dragging you down. It was an important part of the process.
“ Let go of what’s dragging you, baby girl. Then you can walk more freely ,” Mom would always say when giving me advice.
It was solid advice that I revisited often.
Just as Claire had, I would remind myself of three good things that had kept me going over the past week:
Ava and I were going to eat a good amount of leftover birthday cake.
During lunchtime, I got free extra guacamole at my favorite Mexican restaurant.
We had officially moved into our new home a few months ago after buying a large plot of land, and the official build of our larger forever home was about to start there. We were currently living in an older house on the property until our home would be finished.
As I gathered my things to head home, there was a knock at my door. I looked up to see Joseph, one of the other therapists in our private practice, standing there. Joseph was the one who had opened Healing Waters Therapy Center.
Healing Waters used all different types of therapy to help our clients heal. Joseph’s specialty was music and water therapy, which seemed to be remarkably helpful to many individuals. He was a genius at his job, and over the years he’d become one of my closest friends. Joseph was the definition of positivity, always able to put a spin of light on any situation. Plus, he was remarkably educated and easily one of the most intelligent individuals I’d ever known. We’d celebrated his sixtieth birthday at the office a few weeks ago, but with the way that man searched for adventure, one would’ve thought he was in his early twenties. Just last month he’d spent a week climbing a freaking mountain for fun. That was how I knew Joseph’s idea of fun was different than my own. A week of fun for me included binge watching Below Deck in pajamas with take-out food.
“Are you off to finish prepping for your dinner party?” he asked.
“I am. I wish you were coming. Henry’s friends and colleagues are boring,” I half-joked. The parties my husband hosted weren’t just mellow dinners. They were full-blown celebrations. I was pretty sure we’ve had dinner parties that were fancier than our own wedding a few years before. Fireworks and all. This one was even more exciting for Henry since it was the first gathering on our new land. Unfortunately, the parties always included Henry’s friends and colleagues and not my own. Our groups were like oil and water: we didn’t mix well. Where my friends were welcoming and inclusive, Henry’s friends were, well, not. My best friend, Rosie, called Henry’s dinner parties a pissing match for rich snobs to talk about who had the bigger yacht.
She wasn’t that far off.
If I had things my way, dinner parties would include a Below Deck viewing party, in pajamas with Chinese food. Obviously. Toss in Vanderpump Rules , and we’d be staying up past midnight.
Joseph grinned, knowing how much I dreaded the parties. “I would be there if I could. I’ll make the next dinner party when I’m back in town.”
I smiled. “Where are you off to this weekend?”
“Austin,” he said. “I’m seeing an old friend who just had a baby. But trust me, I’d rather be at one of Henry Hughes’s parties. Rumor has it, you have the best champagne.”
“Only the best for my husband,” I teased.
“That’s why he has you,” Joseph replied, nudging me in the arm before saying goodbye.
After he left, I took a few minutes to mentally prepare for the amount of socializing I would have to do that evening. Some people were gifted at entertaining big groups for hours while keeping their spirits high. Me, on the other hand? I always worked best one-on-one with individuals. It was one of the reasons I dived into my career. I loved to zoom in on individuals and learn how they ticked. With the big parties that Henry threw, there was a lot of drinking and many blunt personalities that I found hard to connect with on a deeper level.
I loved to go deep with people, yet those parties made that next to impossible. I found it hard to really get to know a person when there was so much chaos around. Still, I’d do what I did best: I’d pretend that I was happy and having a good time.
Otherwise, I’d end up arguing with Henry when the night came to an end. And by arguing, I meant he’d point out all the ways I was a flawed wife.
I was very careful about picking my martial battles.
Dinner parties were a battle I was willing to lose.