Chapter Twenty-One #3
“Good,” Opal replied, pulling open her shop’s door and gesturing for Mo to go inside. “Gives you plenty of time to get back to Aspen.”
Mo could only laugh, even as she felt hope rise inside of her.
* * *
Mo rubbed her shoulder for what felt like the millionth time, her mind everywhere but here in the room with her new—maybe—therapist. Opal’s pep talk from the day before had unleashed a flurry of hope, all of which was pushing her north, even as her anxiety was attempting to keep her here, in Palo Alto.
She tried to focus on the woman in front of her.
Kate was about her age, dressed very comfortably in tan hiking pants and a light-blue short-sleeved button-up.
Her long, black hair was braided into long braids, framing her bright lime-green glasses that popped against her golden-brown skin.
Kate was quietly observing her, so she focused on the wall behind her, taking in the many diplomas and licenses.
“Kate Mehta. Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist in the State of California,” Mo read aloud, coughing slightly. “Cool.”
“It is. I am very proud of my accomplishments.” Kate smiled warmly, switching which leg was over which. “I feel we’ve touched on quite a few areas of struggle in this session. All of which I would be very happy to unpack with you in future sessions.”
Mo nodded, watching as Kate gently looked at her watch.
She leaned forward slightly, readying herself to get up and leave.
She wanted to go back to Bud and Opal’s, figure out her next move from underneath the blanket of her impromptu bed above Hecate Tattoo, and alleviate this ever-present anxiety.
But Kate must’ve noticed, putting up a gentle palm for her to sit back.
She complied, nervously scratching her arm again.
“We still have twenty-five minutes left,” Kate said, clicking her pen once. “There seems to be something urgent on your mind. Do you want to talk about it?”
Mo was taken aback by Kate’s sudden observation. “You’re a therapist.”
“I am,” Kate said, smiling a cute lopsided smile.
“Fuck it.” Mo blew out breath before unloading.
“I told you my wife died and how it made me kinda suicidal, but not suicidal enough for you to write anything in that book that might give me a grippy-sock vacation. But what I didn’t tell you was that I was pushed by my friends to go to the redwoods, where I met this adorable, funny woman—her name is Aspen, by the way.
And I just felt everything and nothing at all.
But pretty soon she was everything and I began feeling things in general.
Like a light switch had been flicked, you know?
But I had started out treating her badly, like an asshole.
And I apologized and she helped me and she made me feel wanted.
And, like, needed? Not once did she judge me or treat me like a crazy widow who couldn’t get over her dead wife and, like, I thought something was there.
But she said it was a fling. It didn’t feel like a fling.
But I agreed for it to be a fling and she kinda pushed me away and I came back here and I can’t stop thinking about her and Opal says I should fight for her. Should I fight for her?”
Kate’s smile grew larger. “I think—”
“She doesn’t want me there and I should respect that right?
” Mo interrupted, her mouth and mind on overdrive.
“She is someone I can see myself being with. Someone who understands me, my love for Annie, but I’m—I’m not in a condition to love someone, right?
I mean, I am here. Therapy is a waypoint on the journey to a relationship—”
“Hold on.” Kate put up her palm again. “Let’s focus on that little bit there, first. What makes you think you aren’t in a condition to love someone?”
“I’m in therapy. I lost everything. I—”
“The fact that you are here is proof you can love,” Kate explained. “Real, healthy love isn’t built overnight. It’s conditioned through actual care. Being here, working on bettering yourself, that shows that you care.”
“Oh.” Mo mulled it over. “I guess it kind of does, huh?”
“You said she pushed you away.” Kate changed the focus, writing as she talked. “Did you get to tell her how you feel?”
“Kind of.”
“Not in the way you wanted, maybe?”
“No.”
“Okay.” Kate scribbled some more, before looking up at Mo. “Then why not try starting there.”
“I—” Mo protested on instinct.
“No.” Kate stopped her. “You came here to me to help you put your life back on track, right?”
“Yeah.” Mo nodded. “I just don’t want to break any rules.”
“There is no rule book for this process, Mo. You can try to speak with Aspen, and if she says no, she says no.” Kate stood. “And by the gigantic thought-vomit that just happened, I think you are ready to go tell her.”
Mo followed suit. “You really think so?”
“It’s always worth a try.” Kate smiled sweetly. “Would you like to set up a virtual appointment for next week? Same time?”
“Yes.” Mo nodded.
“Then get moving, Mo. It’s quite a drive to the redwoods. We will speak next week.”
Mo raced out the door, barely hearing Kate’s wish of good luck as she flew down the hallway.