24. Kamryn
“How is that truly making you feel Kamryn?”
My thoughts were so jumbled after seeing Mason that I knew I needed to see my therapist. She helped me through moving here and with getting deeper into my feelings and thoughts. While she’s not the same therapist I had when I needed some outlet after Liam died, Theresa came highly recommended by my former therapist, Maggie.
I pick at a hangnail, as I try to gather my thoughts. “I feel…like this should have happened seven years ago. Like…”
“Do you think your hesitance has something to do with Liam?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
Theresa puts her notepad and pen down. It’s when I know she’s about to get serious. Well, more serious than her job already is. “When was the last time you went and visited with Liam?”
“A few weeks after he died,” My response stumps me. Subconsciously I think I knew visiting Liam would never be high on my to-do list. I got everything out that I needed to when I visited Liam. At least I thought I had. Now with my past knocking at my door, I’m not so sure if I ever left the past in the past.
Like most sessions we engage in a silent stare-down. Her, willing me to talk unprovoked. Me, wishing she would prompt something for me to say. My mind is empty and I break our stare-down to focus back on the hangnail that gets stuck on my shirt sleeve. Our session time is slowly running out. That’s a good thing. Some days I love my therapy sessions. Other days, I dread my therapy session. Today is one of those days that I dread my therapy session. While I feel like I have so much to talk about, my brain won’t connect to my mouth.
“Thirty days.” Theresa announces by way of breaking the silence. My head snaps up to her.
“Thirty days for what?”
“In order for these sessions to continue to be effective, they only work if you talk to me. So I want you to go buy a journal and write in it for thirty days. It can be about anything that happens to you throughout the day. Write it down. Because Kamryn, I know you have a lot to talk about. It’s the getting you to talk about it consistently that’s a bit of an issue. And not just with me, but your friends and family too.”
I always thought I was good with my words. My parents never had to pull teeth to get me to speak. But this feels like a setback.
“I know this is hard for you Kamryn. Just give it thirty days. Then we’ll talk again.”
The rest of the day is a blur. I heed Theresa’s advice and pick up a journal after my session. Being around people is too much effort so I end up working from home as being a business owner allows me that luxury. I stare out at my backyard and the pond that’s the centerfold of my neighborhood with Poppy in my lap and the sound of FRIENDS in the background providing me the much needed background noise. Idly petting her proves to be the perfect heart rate soother as her purrs calm me. Taking a deep breath, I pick up my pen and I sketch out mine and Mason’s new meeting in the journal I picked up. It doesn’t take me long to get carried away with the scene. My mind had been replaying this new meeting since I left him on the rooftop. Lucy nuzzling my leg brings me to a stopping point. The movement jolts Poppy out of my lap.
“Yes?” I ask her.
Of course she can’t respond since she’s a dog. But I assume her nuzzling me means she wants to go outside. Unfolding myself from my chair, I grab my smaller sketch pad along with my journal, meander downstairs and out the backdoor to let Lucy run around and hopefully get more inspiration for the rest of my Winter line.
I found myself at a bit of a standstill last week. I’m not wanting to get too over eager with my designs as I know how fast trends change. But it’s hard to stop trying to top my last line.
Picking back up my journal, I flip to a blank sheet. I never imagined reliving traumatic moments would lead to cathartic moments. Before I know it, I’m drawing out that night in Liam’s truck. The night before life imploded. I draw and rewrite that night because it seems that’s when life was on track. Our relationship was in a fragile state, but we were still us. At least we were trying to hold on to what made us an us.
The sun is setting by the time I lift my head up. The string lights in my patio have turned on and the fireflies make their presence known. I look back down at the filled up pages and I feel somewhat lighter. The words I wrote next to the memory I drew cant change the past. As I look over every detail, I feel almost lighter. But something I’ve learned about myself is that my lightness is harder to ignite.
It’s been thirty days where I’ve put my head down and worked. Before my self-imposed focus period, I sent a text to Mason and let him know when I’d be in touch. His resistance was expected. I can’t imagine having your life dictated by others. Me holding back from him was just another facet of his life being controlled.
As I’m leaning over my design desk trying to work on some new sketches I get a knock at my door. “Come in!” I yell without looking up. The bodice on this corset is giving me the most trouble. It’s intricate but also delicate. Yet my pencil strokes on this sketch are anything but delicate.
Most designers have moved onto technology to do their work for them. Choosing iPads over sketchbooks to make every detail precise. I won’t lie and say I don’t use technology for my sketches and I do, but for the less complex pieces. But my bread and butter comes from a sketchpad and a pencil. Well, usually. Today not so much. So this delivery is a welcome interruption to my not so successful drawings.
“I have a delivery for Ms. Rawlins.” A young man calls.
I huff at my work and I look up with confusion coating my tone. “That’s me.”
He walks over to my desk and places an arrangement of orange lilies down.
“Do I need to sign?” I ask him.
“No ma’am, they’re already taken care of. Have a nice day.” And with that he leaves.
I walk over to the flowers and take in their beauty. “Who are those from?” My assistant Olivia asks me as she pokes her head into my office.
I pluck the card from the flowers. “I was just about to check who they were from nosey lady.”
Kamryn,
I can’t get you out of my mind.
Come to a home game soon
Let me know which one and I’ll leave tickets.
XOXO, Mason.
I read over the card three times with a smile on my face.
“Oooo! Those are pretty. Who are those from?” Jax asks when she walks in my office. I show her the card and she gives me her best I-don’t-know face.
“What is that face for?” I ask my sister.
She looks at me like I’m insane. “You haven’t shown a man any inkling of interest since Liam. And now all of a sudden you’re all doe-eye for Mason again?”
“I’m not doe-eyed for anyone.” The beginnings of a panic attack make my fingers tingle. I knew no matter who I started talking to I’d get this type of reaction.
Jax cocks her brow at me. “Okay. Well what happened with Brett? I thought for sure something would brew between you two.”
“Brett was a chauvinistic pig who said it was ‘cute’ that I designed clothes. I told him it was ‘cute’ that he was still working a part-time job at thirty-five. Needless to say the guy you thought I would hit it off with was a total bust. Let me have this little slice of happiness Jax. And if it’s with Mason, you have to respect that. If it’s not with Mason, then you also have to respect that.”
“Okay,” she concedes. But I know it’s not that easy with her. “I’m just confused why all of a sudden.”
“It’s not sudden. At least not on my end.” A strange feel of exhaustion takes over as I have the need to defend myself. “Jax, I have been working on myself for years. You know this. Letting Mason back into my life, it’s not an easy decision. When I saw him that night at Mike’s club I was caught off guard. And even he knows that one night isn’t enough to take away the pain of the way he left me. So if Mason and I ever make it to an ‘us’ again, I won’t take your negativity.”
Jax holds her hands up in surrender. “Okay. You and Mason were good together. I know that. But I just don’t want you to get your heart broken again.”
“I know you don’t. Thank you for looking out for me. I’m sure we’ll hit the bumps that every relationship does, but I’ll be fine. One big mess up and I’m done.” I pull my sister in for a hug.
I don’t want to get my hopes up. Or even jump past the obstacles I know will be in our way. We’re both older with so much time lost between us. But time we can gladly make up for. I want to get to know Mason now. I want to get to know the thirty-year old version of him. I want to get to know the thirty-year old that has succeeded beyond all expectations in a sport he only picked up as a hobby. I want to get to know Mason again. Eventually, when the time comes, I hope to fall in love with Mason again.
Because once upon a time, he made loving him as easy as breathing. We were effortless. Nothing with our relationship was forced. He had the uncanny ability to read my mind. He read my moods like they were a playbook depicting every one of them with accuracy. Can loving him again be as easy as breathing?
I’m sitting at home later that day with a glass of wine, when my phone pings with a text from Mason. I slide to open the message.
Mason: Hey beautiful. Did you get my flowers?
I snap a picture of them sitting on my dining room table and post it in our message chat.
Me: Hey yourself. I did. Thank you. They’re beautiful.
Mason: You’re welcome. How’s your day been?
Me: It’s looking up. How’s your day?
Mason: It’s been long. Practice. Watching film. Interviews. It can get tiring and repetitive
Me: Oh, I know all about that. I can only say so many things about my new line when I debut it at fashion week. The clothes speak for themselves, but reporters and magazines expect me to say a paragraph about what I designed.
Mason: That’s exactly how I feel in my interviews. My game speaks for itself.
Me: So it looks like we’re one in the same, then. We’d rather let our work do the talking than actually do the talking
Mason: I like the way you put that Ms. Rawlins…So I was thinking…
Me: Oh goodness. What now?
I smile in remembrance of when he first said that to me eons ago.
Mason: Such sass…We have a home game next weekend. I know that it’s last minute and you were supposed to choose the game, but I’m just too impatient to wait for your answer. I’m hoping that you live in the city so it won’t be too much of a problem for you. You can bring Jax and a couple of friends. I’ll have passes for you all to get field access and to sit in a booth. What do you say?
Me: I say that you’re an incredibly eager man. When do you need an answer from me?
Mason: Thursday if it’s not too much trouble.
Me: Okay. I’ll have an answer for you in two days.
Mason: I look forward to hearing from you. Goodnight, Kamryn.
Me: Goodnight, Mason.