Chapter 41
Candace
“Candace, you don’t seem like yourself today. Is everything alright?” Dr. Wilder asks, her concern seems sincere, but I’m struggling to open my mouth, let alone answer.
My gaze has been hyper-focused on a hummingbird outside the window.
He’s done at least four laps around the building and keeps returning, but once he gets to the window, he pauses.
I can’t look away, trying to decipher why he’s stopping.
There’s no food, no other birds, and it doesn’t seem like there’s a great place for him to land.
All that being said, there he goes again for lap number five, only to return seconds later to hover and stare into the window like he’s eavesdropping.
“Sorry, got distracted.” I ignore the lost hummingbird and turn my attention back to my doctor so we can further dissect my crappy mood.
“Let’s jump back into the PTA for a minute. It’s been about five months now since you stepped down as president. Has that decision helped you feel lighter, like a burden is no longer on your back?”
“In a way,” I nod, answering honestly. “I guess you could say I’m smack-dab in a midlife crisis.
One night, everything around me just felt so insignificant.
The endless charity auctions, parties at the country club, and the pointless meetings with interior designers.
I was slowly dying and never noticed. Looking back, it would seem that most of the decisions I’ve made as an adult have been pointless, and after meticulously planning every second of my life, look at where I’m left? ”
Dr. Wilder continues scribbling notes while nodding her head at my confession. “Where would you say you are?”
“Wouldn’t a professional label this as rock bottom?” If this isn’t rock bottom, then I’d hate to see what’s lower than this.
“That’s not for me to say. Do you feel you’re at rock bottom? Is there a part of you that feels there’s nowhere to go but up?”
Looking around the room, admiring her degrees and trophies, I take a minute to run through my answer.
“Yes, this feels like rock bottom. Although I wouldn’t say I’m lying down, unable to get up.
Somehow it feels like I’m standing. I’m nowhere near the top, and I’ve accepted that, but there’s no longer a sinking feeling in my gut convincing me I’ll be trapped here forever. ”
“Interesting thought process. I like that. It’s always heartwarming watching a patient find their way rather than repeat the same cycles. As we both know, there’s only so much I can do in this office. Ultimately, it’s up to you whether you’re going to climb out of the hole.”
To my left is a dark-stained bookshelf lined with books about the brain and all things psychology.
Off to the side looks like a personal collection of worn-out books that I’m guessing are first editions.
The authors' names look Russian, and I can’t pronounce any of them.
Without realizing it, I smile, thinking those are just the books Nat would rave about and recommend for book club, even though there’s probably not a single romantic gesture or sex scene.
She’d call us all uneducated housewives and demand we read her thirteen-hundred-page novel about the decline of society.
The doctor seems to notice my change of expression, and the conversation takes the inevitable turn. “Does your new outlook have anything to do with Miss Reynolds?”
Sighing, I look away from the books and turn back to her.
“I want to say no. That's a lie, I'd like to stomp my foot firmly, cross my arms, turn a bright shade of green, and scream no. But I do think she’s a part of it. No one’s ever pushed like her, which makes me wonder if anybody has ever cared like her. Some may say, lighting a house on fire is a strange way of showing that you care, and although I would agree, I also can see Nat in that decision-making process.”
“Please expand.” The doctor waves her hand at me to continue as she continues her note-taking.
“I don’t see myself as the victim anymore.
In the beginning, I may have felt like Nat did this to me, but as time’s gone on, I’m able to understand bits and pieces that she really did this for me.
Something needed to shake me up and give me the push to reevaluate my life post-divorce.
Granted, I could’ve done without a burnt house. ”
“You don’t believe your ex-husband or parents ever pushed you into greatness?”
“No, I don’t. I believe certain people expected things from me, and I blindly went along to please them.
There was no road map or hand-holding, it was a road I had to take alone, and that seemed okay.
The path was well lit, and even though off to the side were other roads, there wasn’t anyone persuading me to choose differently.
Out of nowhere, this woman shows up. She’s younger and causes total chaos everywhere she goes, but she opened my eyes to these beautiful paths I could’ve taken all along.
Not just that, she’s willing to hold my hand through it all. ”
“We haven’t spoken about the power of forgiveness. Not just to bring peace to the individual but to bring peace to one's mind. How has this new revelation affected how you feel about Miss Reynolds?”
“Change isn’t something I’m accustomed to.
In fact, I’ve fought it for many years. In a year, my entire world changed, and I handled it probably as well as anyone else in my position would, maybe worse.
” I shrug, acknowledging what a mess I’ve been.
“Now that the dust has settled and I’m finding my way back, there's bound to be some change, and I’m hesitant. ”
“What’s your hesitancy? Where’s the fear stemming from?” Dr. Wilder fixes her glasses and checks the clock. We’ve still got thirty minutes, but I spent the first part of the session stalking a bird instead of divulging all my secrets.
“Falling back into toxic patterns,” I admit, a little embarrassed to express more.
“The main pattern being sexual. My heart was and still is very broken, but the part of me she woke up is very much alive and intact. My worry is that I’ll give in to that side and ignore the red flags, along with the discussions still needing to be had.
I’d like to be confident when I leave here, knowing I have tools to help build a relationship, whether it's with her or a new one, and not fall back into what’s easy. ”
“And sex with Miss Reynolds is easy?”
Laughing a little, I nod. “Well, yes, she’s twenty-three.
She doesn’t need much convincing to take her clothes off.
It would seem there’s not a lot she has to do either to get me to do the same.
” I flush, thinking back to the dance a few weeks ago, the last time we spoke.
“Beyond the sex though, there’s an intimacy that wasn’t there with my ex.
It’s a mutual understanding of each other's bodies and our needs and wants. With a woman, there’s a deeper level of caring, and the physical act of sex becomes more about the other person's pleasure. Well, at least that’s how it’s been with my one and only experience. ”
“Candace, you’ve made incredible progress and continue to do so every week.
My advice moving forward is to use the tools you have to find yourself again.
If that means allowing Miss Reynolds in, then so be it, if it means closing that door, just know that you’re strong enough to handle both outcomes.
I’d encourage you to be aware of the patterns relating to sex that are an easy fallback.
Do what feels right, but also remember to work at the foundation. ”
With that, our time is up, and I head out to schedule my next appointment.
It’s been almost a month since Nat and I spoke, but the butterflies erupting in my stomach are hoping she’s in the waiting room.
A younger woman is there with what appears to be her teenage daughter.
She looks up briefly to give a quick smile, then her attention goes back to a fashion magazine.
The receptionist sets up our appointment for next week, and the entire time I’m staring at the elevator waiting to hear a ding.
Minutes go by, and the only sound is the fake acrylics typing up my reminder card.