“My mother wasn’t very patient,” she said. “I probably get it from her. And when Bess was born I thought, Yay, another girl. I took care of her all the time, watched over her, fed her, changed her. I was so relieved not to have to contend with another boy.”
But then Bess turned out to be different from other children and didn’t adjust to preschool or day care. She had trouble being touched, had difficulty around large groups of children. She needed lots of special education and sometimes medication to relax her compulsions and help her focus.
“I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest that, as the firstborn, you got a lot of attention and praise and affection. And then a baby came along who required the same, and that left your cup a little empty, sharing all that adulation. And then a third baby came to the family and this one turned out to really be special needs and you lost more of your position.”
“But I loved them!” she said. “And I helped, I really helped.”
“Of course you did, but you also suffered a little loss and maybe unintentional neglect.”
“Because they had to read to two or three children instead of just one? Even I am not that ridiculous and selfish!”
“Of course you’re not, Jessie. But you are vulnerable,” he said. And there was something about the gentle way he said it that made her heart melt. “And who knows what was going on with your parents at the time. You weren’t the only living being in that house with a life. A complicated, sometimes difficult life.”
She learned that sometimes it was possible to experience loss as a child and not spontaneously get over it. There were times it set up a pattern of always expecting to be left out. Hurt. A sense of longing that is difficult to satisfy. Dr. Norton asked her to examine relationships that were meaningful to her and how she had been affected.
She thought about boyfriends, right up to Jason, who left her because she was always mad. Her brother was seldom in touch and they disagreed with each other about everything and he accused her of always being mad.
Jessie cried a lot with the remembering. She thought a lot about her father and how much he praised her, how much attention he gave her, but the second he shifted his focus to Michael, she felt slighted. She cried because of how immature that seemed. She cried because she wished she could take back some years and do them better. With all the love and support she’d gotten from her parents, why couldn’t she have been a better, more grateful daughter?
She reported to Dr. Norton that she’d been feeling terrible regret and emotionalism and he said, “Sometimes just taking a closer look at things gives us a chance to purge. Are you feeling more in control now or are you in need of help? I can get you a prescription if you’re struggling.”
“I’m just feeling hyperaware,” she said. “And like I owe the world an apology.”
“Not at all, Jessie,” he said. “You’ve actually done the world a great service. You’ve taken care of dozens if not hundreds of sick patients, you love your family and you’re looking for ways to better communicate with them and you’re learning more about yourself every day.”
“You could have warned me,” she said. “I didn’t realize it would be this difficult and painful.”
“Growth has its price,” he said. “But not growing has a higher price.”
It had been a difficult year for Anna but the last couple of months had brightened her outlook on just about everything and that was primarily because she had Joe in her life. His love and support had meant so much to her. She hadn’t realized that her life had been lacking in love and romance until Joe filled up that space inside her.
Joe didn’t mind at all that many of his intense discussions with Anna were on the subject of Chad. Not even when Anna was grieving Chad, missing him. After all, Joe missed him, too. They’d been friends for a very long time, and while Joe still held a few confidences for Chad, the one really major secret Chad had never confessed. Joe did not know Chad had a child outside of his marriage.
What he did know and would never share was that Anna was correct—Chad wanted his wife to be smart, accomplished and, as he had said more than once, the most competent woman he’d ever known. He had confided long ago that he chose Anna to be his wife for that specific reason. He wanted a partner whose intelligence and abilities he could rely on so he could concentrate on becoming a success in his field. He had said so more than once. He didn’t want a woman who couldn’t balance a checkbook or perform CPR or make critical decisions about managing a home and family, plus earn a living. Chad had been well aware that his particular field was a tough one to break into and tougher still to become successful in. Counselors were a dime a dozen in California and certainly in San Francisco. Making a good deal of money at it went with reputation earned through accomplishment. And the competition was fierce.
“I knew Anna would be the best right hand a man could have in a marriage,” he had once told Joe. But years later he had said, “Do you have any idea what a toll it’s taking on our family for her to be in law school? I don’t know what the hell she’s trying to prove.”
She was undoubtedly trying to prove she could take care of her family without a devoted husband, which Chad had established he might not be. He had established that very well with an affair. A rather long-term affair that had lasted many months. Chad had admitted he had lied about his marital status, thus giving the other woman reason to think he was available.
Anna was correct, it was a good marriage. Because it was more of a business arrangement for Chad than a love match. Since Joe’s own marriage had gone so wrong, Joe often wondered if maybe Chad had the right idea. But there was that one thing Anna didn’t know. Chad confided to Joe, “I’ve never been in love, not really.”
Joe was in love. He wondered just how blissful life with Anna could be if he gave her everything she’d been lacking. He was filled with pride just considering her accomplishments, but more than that, he admired her moral core. She was an exemplary jurist because she could easily combine her knowledge of the law with her strong moral compass. If he were lucky enough to be her partner, he would make sure she knew he embraced her achievements.
He would enjoy loving Anna. Together, maybe they would make up for lost time. Maybe the best was yet to come.
There was a fierce, wet cold in early November and Joe was spending Saturday night in Mill Valley. The wind blew outside and he wasn’t aware it was morning until he looked at his cell phone on the bedside table. He rolled over, scooped Anna into his arms and pressed himself against her back, spooning her.
“Well, good morning,” she said with a light laugh.
He kissed her neck, nuzzling her for good measure. “It’s eight o’clock,” he whispered. “I slept like the dead. Because sleeping with you is always an adventure.”
“Is that because I make so much noise in my sleep? Snoring and talking.”
“You were either very quiet last night or I was very tired. I’m not sure I even rolled over.” He pulled her closer. “Let’s not get up.”
She laughed appreciatively. It was deliciously obvious he was in the mood. She hadn’t thought of herself as a woman in need of good sex but she found she was definitely appreciating it with Joe. Anna was delightfully surprised and happy to learn that feeling great passion was a little like riding a bike. She was not too old for it, after all. “I’ll make us some coffee,” she said.
She pulled a Danish breakfast roll out of the freezer, stripped the paper off and put it in a pan to warm in the oven. She rinsed off some dishes from the evening before, put them in the dishwasher and got out cups.
Then she heard the sound of the garage door rising and she froze. Within moments Michael walked into kitchen, a nonplussed look on his face. “Whose car is that?” he asked.
“Good morning, Mike,” she said. “What a nice surprise.”
“Mom, do you have company?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. Joe and I went out last night and he stayed over. I told him to just park in the garage. I’m making coffee.”
“Mom? Joe?”
“It would have been easier had you called to let me know you were coming by but I guess it doesn’t really matter. I was planning to tell you, anyway. I guess you could say we’re dating, me and Joe.”
“Dating? Dating?”
“For lack of a better word. We’ve always been good friends and since your father passed away we seem to have gotten closer. Perfectly understandable, I guess.”
“But wait,” he said. “What about Dad?”
“Oh, I think your dad would approve, though whether or not he did was not the first thing on my mind. He’s gone, after all.”
“But does this mean... Are you over him? Dad?”