Chapter 17
Melanie
I went back to work on Thursday, mainly because I was tired of sitting around feeling sorry for myself.
Neela greeted me with a hug and told me that she hoped everything was OK.
“I’ve been worried about you, but I didn’t want to intrude,” she said, giving me a concerned once-over.
I just told her we’d had a rough few days and mentioned I’d need a couple of hours off here and there for some appointments, including tomorrow morning.
“Of course, whatever you need.”
I thanked her and headed to Jen’s office so she could catch me up to speed on anything I’d missed this week. I’d talked to her the night before, but we hadn’t discussed work at all, only the boys’ visit and my talk with Ryan.
Jen had apologized that her son had called his cousins, but I had assured her that I didn’t fault Cody at all.
“From what the boys told me, the poor kid was freaked out after he overheard you and Mark talking, so it was only natural that he called them to find out what was going on. He had no way of knowing that they hadn’t been told yet. ”
“Still, Mark and I feel terrible about it. We thought he was still in the shower, otherwise we would never have been discussing it in the living room where he could hear us.”
“Really, Jen, it’s OK. It was better that the boys found out sooner rather than later anyway.”
So now, we spent some time discussing the status of the various projects we were working on.
By the time I stepped back into my office, my brain had switched into work mode, and I was able to dive right in.
Unfortunately, work mode didn’t last very long.
Tanner called me on his way to class an hour later, just to see how I was doing.
We chatted for a few minutes, and I asked if he had talked to his dad since they had gone back to Bloomington yesterday morning.
“Nope.”
“Don’t you think you should?”
“Not really. I’m pretty sure I said everything I wanted to say to him then.”
“Tanner,” I chided. “I know you’re upset with him. It’s not a secret that I’m upset with him, too, but he’s still your dad, and I don’t want the problems he and I are going through to affect the relationship that you and your brother have with him.”
“He hasn’t acted like much of a dad lately,” he said defensively, and I sighed, knowing that was true.
“I know. He lost his way for a while, but I think he’s trying to find his way back. Just…keep an open mind, OK? Let him prove himself.”
“Are you going to take your own advice?” His question sounded as if were wary, but hopeful.
“We’re starting marriage counselling tomorrow. I can’t promise things will work out, but yes, I’m going to try to keep an open mind.”
After promising me he would do the same, he hung up, and ten minutes later, I had almost the very same conversation with Garrett, who was on his way to his history lecture.
“I’ll text Dad later today,” he grudgingly promised before he hanging up.
I was able to get through the rest of the day without any family drama, only to have my mother call me when I was pulling into the parking lot of the convenience store near the condo. I still hadn’t made it to the grocery store, so this would have to do for tonight.
Mom just wanted to touch base to make sure I’d had a nice birthday, and to remind me to stop by their condo to water her ficus – which she had named Fernando when she bought it three years ago – simply because she has a thing for the actor Andy Garcia, who played a character by that name in the Mamma Mia sequel.
The fact that she sang the song from the movie to the ficus whenever she watered it drove my dad up a wall, which is probably why she did it.
I lied to her about my birthday, then lied by omission when I said I was stopping by their condo on my way home to give good ol’ Fernando his weekly watering, then lied to her about Ryan’s and my plans for dinner.
“I put a beef roast in the crock pot before I left for work this morning, and Ryan is taking care of the veggies to go with it,” I assured her, when she worried that stopping to water Fernando would interfere with our dinner preparations.
“Oh, that sounds delicious, and I know it’s Ryan’s favorite. I’m sure he’ll be pleased.”
“I’m sure he will,” I murmured, wondering just how many lies I could tell my mother in one phone call without creating bad juju for myself.
Twenty minutes later, I was heating up the microwavable lasagna meal I had bought – along with a bottle of sweet tea and some coffee creamer – at the convenience store and was dutifully pouring the contents of the watering can over the soil in Fernando’s pot.
“Just remember, Nando, my man, not a word to my mother about me staying here, or I’ll yank you up by your roots.”
Mom swore that talking to plants made them grow. I wasn’t sure if threatening Fernando qualified as talking to him or not, and I wasn’t about to sing that stupid song to him, either.
As I ate my less than appetizing dinner, I deeply regretted lying to Mom about the pot roast. My mouth was watering at the thought, and the lasagna just wasn’t hitting the spot.
Ryan texted as I was washing my plate, thanking me for sending him the address for Kim’s office, and for agreeing to the counselling.
Before I could respond, a second text came through.
Ryan: The boys both reached out to me today, and I’m sure that was your doing, so thank you for that, too. They’re still pissed, and rightfully so, but at least it’s a start. I love you and I’ll see you tomorrow.
It took me twenty minutes to figure out how to respond, before I finally ignored the “thank yous” and the “I love you” and texted back that I was glad they had contacted him and that I’d see him in the morning.
Then I tossed and turned all night.
By the time I headed to Kim’s office Friday morning, I was a bundle of nerves, even more so than I’d been on my first visit on Tuesday.
I’d sent an email alerting her that I was switching this to a joint counselling session and had received a confirmation back which included a note that she had an extra half session available, if we wanted to extend our first visit beyond the standard fifty minutes.
I’d agreed, so now I was facing seventy-five minutes with Ryan, discussing all the ways in which our marriage had gone to shit.
To my surprise, he was already waiting for me in the lobby, and I directed him down the hall to the suite which housed the therapy group.
I checked us in, and we were immediately directed back to Kim’s office. I led the way, and we found Kim waiting for us just outside her door.
“Come in and have a seat,” she invited, wheeling herself in behind us and closing the door. Ryan sat down on one end of the small couch, and I sat on the other end, then noticed Kim observing us carefully.
She introduced herself to Ryan and gave him the same spiel she’d given me about her certifications and the use of various therapy methods, then warned him that some of her questions may feel invasive, but that he would need to be forthright with his answers so that she would be able to help effectively.
“Now, with that out of the way, the first thing we need to do is establish the preliminary goal for your joint counseling. For example, some couples know that they want to want to work toward reconciliation. Some simply want to be able to end their relationship amicably, either because there are children involved, or to make the dissolution process easier. And there are a great many who don’t know yet what they want, or they each may be on a different page.
Just know that there is no correct answer here”
She paused and looked at us both closely.
“Now, before I ask each of you about your goals, I want you both to keep this in mind. Whatever path you want to take is OK. Give yourself permission to make the best decision for you. If you want to work to save your marriage, that’s fine.
If you find that reconciliation just isn’t possible, that’s OK, too.
Just remember to give yourself grace, because this will likely be a difficult journey for each of you individually, and an even more difficult journey for you as a couple. ”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Ryan clasping his fingers tightly together and sensed his nerves about this session.
“Melanie, we discussed what you hoped to get out of individual counseling, but what are your goals for joint counselling?”
I thought about it for a second, then answered honestly, “I want to sort through the wreckage to see if there’s anything left to salvage.”
Ryan inhaled sharply as he turned his head to look at me.
“Ryan, what about you? Are you in agreement with Melanie?”
“I wouldn’t have phrased it that way, but yes. I want to save our marriage. I’m committed to doing whatever I need to do to make this work.”
“Ok. We have our goal then. Melanie, you indicated that you would like to continue with your solo sessions as well, at least for the time being. I want to assure you both that whatever is discussed during an individual session will not be shared with your spouse, unless you give me specific permission to do so. I’ll speak to each of you privately to discuss how you want that handled, OK? ”
We both nodded, and Kim continued, “Ryan, have you given any thought to having therapy sessions on your own?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t think about that, exactly, but Melanie mentioned that you do grief counseling, too. I think that might help me.”
My brows rose in surprise, because I honestly didn’t think he would agree to it.
“We can certainly do that,” Kim assured him, and then Ryan turned to me.
“Mel, would you be willing to sit in on those with me? I…I’m not sure I can go into all that on my own.”
Tears sprang to my eyes at Ryan’s uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. I blinked them away as I assured him that I would certainly do that for him. Honestly, I would probably benefit from them, too.
“Thank you,” he murmured quietly, and I glanced up to find Kim observing us closely again.