CHAPTER NINE #3
“One brother, he’s out in California. We are close, talk on the phone a bunch.
He has his own family so I try and get out there to visit between projects when I can.
I have two nephews, who are five and three, and his wife is great.
She happens to be a nurse in a hospital.
What about you?” I think about the photos on his desk of the little boys.
The vision of Nick as a fun uncle, swooping in to help cause chaos makes me smile.
“No siblings, it was just my mom and I.”
“Well, she must be proud of you! Does she still live in North River?” Such a normal and healthy question when getting to know someone, and now I get to dull the mood.
I start remembering why I don’t do this, avoiding the pity stares and awkward silences when people don’t know how to react to my past.
“She died when I was twenty, and it’s hard to say what she would have felt regarding the ‘proud’ part.
She wasn’t too available to me emotionally.
She was more available to alcohol, and later she got into opiates.
Hence the found family with Stan and Gary.
Annie too, they are my people.” I wait for him to stumble, to stop making eye contact and figure out some excuse to leave.
No one wants a fling with a sad orphan. That doesn’t happen though, he just keeps staring at me and leans across the table to cover my hand with his.
“So that’s why you have that stamina to keep helping your repeat customers?” He quickly gleans.
“Yes. I can’t help but wonder sometimes what would have happened if she had gotten that one last shot to get sober.
Maybe she wouldn’t have taken it, I don’t know.
It keeps me motivated though, to think that this could be that time that it all clicks for someone.
” We let some silence hang between us, as his hand remains parked over mine.
My nerves surprisingly calm with the gesture.
“Marcy, that sucks. I wish your mom got to know you better, because I am really enjoying it.” His blue eyes, intent on mine, while his thumb lightly strokes the back of my hand.
And just like that, I feel my walls crumble just the slightest bit.
I can feel my expression toward him soften, obviously blushing but less self-conscious for doing so.
“And your patients are so lucky to have you in their corner. I’m sure it doesn’t always feel like that, but it’s true.
” He gives a couple more gentle swipes with his thumb against my skin, and then he pulls his hand back but keeps his eyes on mine.
As if he can read my heaviness on the topic, he flawlessly shifts gears, “Did you know that Keith asked me if I wanted to hang out with him tonight?”
“I didn’t. I’m sorry if my invitation for a meeting derailed your plans.”
“I’m not, I’m afraid he’s going to ask me to join a boy band. Not to mention, this has been the best night I have had in a long time.” We share a nod, his acknowledgment hanging between us.
We talk until eleven, both of us surprised by how late it gets, the hours flying by. We clear our plates and walk down the hall toward the back door. We exit and I lock up, as he stands behind me again. That warmth seeping into my back.
“Well, thank you for the dinner and conversation Marcy, I hope we can do it again.” He reaches out to shake my hand, and I reciprocate.
“Thanks for hearing my ideas, I like getting to know you too.” I respond, as we stand apart from each other, shaking hands for what seems far too long. This time, he seems stiff and flustered. Is he nervous?
“Well, see you tomorrow, sleep well.” And he turns quickly toward his truck and gets in. At the same time, I make what feels like a sprint up the stairs to my haven.
I don’t know what I wanted or expected as an ending to our night, but as I enter my apartment, I shut the door behind me and press my back against the cool wood.
I ground myself to the sensation. So many conflicting emotions whirring around my head, my anxiety making it difficult to just enjoy the evening and accept that it went well.
I am doomed to perseverate the social interaction, and my attraction to Nick will only make the doubts more intense.
And so, it begins.
That wasn’t a special night, it’s all just part of his charm.
Maybe the rainy drive home is a signature move.
Nick will be leaving regardless of my feelings; I could just enjoy whatever is offered and let it go in a few months.
Can I do that though? If I wanted casual sex, wouldn’t I have found it by now?
If Nick wanted me, wouldn’t he have made it clearer?
Maybe he was just trying to make up for the intimidating side of him that I saw in his office that day when he scolded Keith.
My anxiety has a funny way of washing away hope and joy sometimes.
While I worry, I get ready for bed and make some nighttime tea.
I grab my journal and sink into my giant, plush, sofa.
I go through the routine that has pulled me from many an episode, preferring to get some sleep tonight.
I write down the fears, the questions, the doubts, giving recognition to the thoughts running rampant through my brain.
I do some deep breathing and begin the logical challenges to each unhelpful thought.
The overarching message I can then digest and accept for myself: Nick didn’t have to spend time with me tonight, he wanted to.
He was warm and comfortable to talk with and could have left at any time.
The awkwardness is the attraction, which might be mutual.
I can be an enjoyable person, even if I do over think things.
I can go to sleep and not worry that tonight went at all negatively.
I don’t need to decide how I feel about a person after one meal together.
Thank God for Therapy.
I send an email to request my next appointment.