Chapter Ten #4
I nod as she turns the television on and shuffles around, getting comfortable. We both stare longingly at the mantle underneath the TV, at the urn front and center on it. It’s silver and simple, but perfectly my mom. Beth leans her head onto my shoulder.
“She’d be proud of you for getting help,” she says. It’s almost a whisper but I still hear it.
“She’d be proud of you for making me,” I say and we both laugh.
The next morning, we drive across town to the hospital. The therapist I’m supposed to see has an office on one of the upper level floors. We pull into the parking lot and I stare up at the daunting building, feeling anxiety rise in my chest.
“You okay?” Beth asks as she puts the car in park.
"Not really,” I say truthfully. “But it’s a start.”
“I’m right here with you.”
We get out of the car and silently walk together to the hospital’s main entrance. We take the elevator up a few floors before we reach another unit for the psychiatric unit.
Beth leads the way as we head to Office 513 — Amber Atherton.
She helps me fill out the required new patient paperwork and waits with me until my name is called.
“I’ll be right here,” she murmurs as I stand up. Her fingers graze my wrist. “You’ve got this.”
“I’ve got this,” I repeat.
A tall, thin woman stands in the doorway. She smiles as she sees me. “My name is Doctor Atherton,” she says, “but you can call me Amber.”
“Hi,” I say quietly as I stand.
Her soft, kind brown eyes twinkle as she motions for me to follow her. She’s got hair the same color as my mom. She’s definitely not what I expected for a therapist. I assumed it would be a balding old man in a white coat.
Amber leads me down the hallway to her office and closes the door behind us. I take a seat in front of her desk and feel my heart rate start to speed up. I start to wish Beth had come back with me.
“So,” Amber begins as she sits, “What brings you here today?”
My aunt thinks I’m a drowning alcoholic following the sudden death of my mom, I think to myself.
I take a shaky breath before I begin.
“Well,” I start, fidgeting in the seat. “My mom died in a car accident in January and my aunt thinks I need help dealing with the grief.”
Amber nods. “That’s a good place to start. So, that’s why your aunt wanted you to come. Why did you want to come? I assume you wanted to, or else you wouldn’t be sitting here. You’re an adult, after all.”
I hadn’t really given it much thought, besides not wanting to disappoint Beth.
“I didn’t want to disappoint her,” I say quietly.
Amber nods. “Okay,” she says, “but could it also be that a part of you wants to be here, too?”
I stare at the carpet.
“You could say that,” I say.
“Tell me about yourself,” she says gently.
I sigh and shuffle in my seat. “Well, I just moved here a few weeks ago. I used to live in Seattle with my mom.”
“I’ve always wanted to visit Seattle.”
“It was nice, but I needed a change. Everything was a constant reminder of what I’ve lost.”
Amber nods again and writes something down on the legal pad in front of her.
“Tell me about your support system.”
“Well, before Mom died, it was her, my aunt, my best friend, Ireland,” I say. “I had some other friends at school, but they all abandoned me after I left school.”
“What were you studying?”
I shuffle in my seat again. “Just generals. I’m not sure what I want to do with my life. My mom was a neurosurgeon, so I’ve always felt the pressure to make something great of myself.”
“It’s never easy to live in your parent’s shadow.”
“No.” I shake my head as the room grows silent. “ I, uh…bake a lot,” I say.
“That’s good.” She nods to encourage me to keep going. “That’s a healthy outlet. Doing something with your hands and creating something out of nothing. What do you like to bake?”
“Everything,” I say. “I always toyed with the idea of having my own bakery. Kind of like my aunt Beth. She owns Beth Ann’s Diner across town.”
“Oh, my husband and I love that place.” She smiles brightly. “It’s such a cute, quaint little diner. It’s my favorite breakfast place.”
I smile politely as silence settles between us again.
“Recently I started,” I pause, “drinking to help with the grief.” I play with my hands in my lap.
Amber’s expression changes. “Alcohol is not the answer, but I understand why you were leaning on it. Let me be clear, I am not shaming you.” She leans forward in her chair. “When we go through such a profound loss, we do what we can to hold on.”
I nod. She gets it.
“It makes the pain go away, when baking doesn’t.” I shrug. “I’m having nightmares about the car wreck. It’s always the same one. No one comes to help and I watch her bleed out in front of me. I scream and scream, but no one can hear me.”
Amber writes something down on her notepad again.
“Tell me more about the wreck,” she says gently.
“It was winter. We were out shopping, had dinner, and were on our way home. It had been snowing and the roads were slick. It was my idea to go out that day.” I pause, the memories flashing through my brain.
“Take your time,” Amber encourages me.
"Some guy blew through a stop sign and t-boned us,” I slowly continue. “The paramedics say Mom died on impact.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Sometimes I feel guilty for surviving. My mom was a neurosurgeon, one of the top in the field. I just…” I trail off as tears form in my eyes. I try to blink them away but they’re too fast and they fall down my face.
Amber leans forward and hands me a box of tissues.
The tears fall faster and faster and before I know it, I’m falling apart. My shoulders shake as a sob escapes my mouth and I do my best to reign it in and get myself under control again.
It’s a while before I continue. It’s embarrassing to cry like this in front of a stranger but Amber’s presence is soothing.
“I just like to bake and have no idea what I’m doing with my life. Sometimes I feel like everyone would be better off if I had been the one that died instead of my mom.”
“Oh, Thea,” she says. She looks at me empathetically. “I know we just met, but I can tell you that is simply not true. Your aunt certainly wouldn’t be better off without you.”
“Yeah, but she’d have her sister,” I say before I blow my nose.
“It sounds like she loves you very much, to insist on bringing you here.”
I stay quiet for a moment before I add, “She’s been so strong for me, but I know it’s consuming her, too.”
“Survivor’s guilt is completely normal. As is the recurring nightmares. What you went through was very traumatic. And moving across the country, meeting new people…it’s a lot of change in a short amount of time.”
“You’re telling me,” I laugh before I blow my nose again. “Beth just thinks I need some help and…she might be right.”
“There’s no shame in asking for help, Thea,” Amber says. “Losing a loved one is never easy.” She offers a gentle smile and goes back to her notepad. “You’ve taken a big step by coming here.” She smiles at me and it feels like a warm hug.
“I won’t lie and say that this will be a walk in the park,” she continues, “but you have to be serious about this, Thea. The sun will shine again.”
“The sun will shine again,” I repeat before wiping at my tear-stained face.
We talk for a while longer; the hour goes by quicker than I thought it would. Talking with her is comforting; like I’m talking to someone I’ve known my entire life.
Amber glances at the clock.
“I hate to say this, but our hour is up. Here.” She reaches across her desk for a sticky note and jots something down on it before she hands it to me. “I wrote my cell phone number down for you. Day or night, if you need something, I want you to reach out. I’m here for you.”
I like her. There’s something comforting in her demeanor. Almost like I see a piece of my mom in her. I make a mental note to tell Beth she should see her, too.
“I want to see you back next week,” she says. She schedules my next appointment and grabs some pamphlets from the wall behind her. “And I want you to stop drinking. If you feel the urge, lean on your people. Even me, okay?”
I nod.
She stands and I follow suit. I feel emotionally drained and just want to go to bed.
Amber looks at me for a moment and then steps around her desk, opening her arms wide. She gives me a quick hug before motioning to her door.
“It was really great to meet you,” she says as we walk out of her office, “and really, if you need anything, please let me know. I’m in your corner.”
“Thank you,” I say before I walk back out to Beth, who’s playing a game on her phone.
“Well?” she asks as she tosses it into her purse.
“It went well,” I say, clutching the pamphlets and papers. “I think you’d like her, too.”
“Good.” Beth breathes a sigh of relief and stands up from her seat. “I’ll make an appointment with her, too,” she says as she walks toward the receptionist’s desk.
I wait off to the side as she speaks with the receptionist. Beth pulls out her phone again and quickly types in her own appointment before she turns to me.
“Ready?” she asks.
I nod.
The elevator ride is quiet and I feel lighter once we reach the parking lot. I bask in the sunshine as we walk to the car and think that for once, it feels like the sun is shining on my life again.