Sophie nodded. “I’m beat. We’ve been working four days straight without our boss, and it’s exhausting. I’m starting to understand why his body gave out on him.”
Noticing Hunter’s puzzled stare, she explained. “My boss, Roger, had a heart attack last Thursday.” His eyes widened with concern. “He’s doing fine now,” she added. “I think they’re letting him come home today.”
“So, how did your duties change in his absence?”
“I’m still serving drinks.” She smiled. “Not quite what I trained six years for, but at least the tips are good. But I’ve also been trying to help Grant fill in for Roger as docent.”
“Grant?”
Sophie blushed. “Um, the man I told you about? The parolee I met outside of Jerry’s office? The one who got me this job?”
Hunter cocked one eyebrow. “The one I warned you about letting into your life?”
“That’s the one.” Sophie laughed.
“How have you been helping him?” Hunter asked, deciding to be open-minded about the relationship.
“Well, I haven’t gotten to the ‘helping’ part yet, I’m afraid. Before his first cruise I gave him some tequila to calm his nerves.” She looked embarrassed. “Then Grant proceeded to drink half the bottle, and I had to take him home.” A smile bloomed on her face. “God, he was a funny drunk. He was singing, then he grabbed me for an impromptu dance, and then on the cab ride home …” Her voice trailed off as she noticed her psychologist studying her with a bemused grin.
“The cab ride home?” he prompted.
“Let’s just say he was really cute,” she managed. “I haven’t felt that close to a man since …” Her voice faded again, lost in memories. Then she frowned. “But it’s not like that closeness with Grant materialized into anything. He’s been pretty distant with me since that night.”
“What do you make of that?’
Sophie sighed. “Typical. If I like a guy, then it’s for sure that he doesn’t like me. I am a disaster when it comes to relationships.”
“That’s kind of harsh, isn’t it, Dr. Taylor? What would you tell a client who criticized herself that way?”
Another long sigh. “Ah, yes, the old cognitive approach. Challenge dysfunctional thoughts to improve your mood.” Her tone became mocking. “Just because I’ve had some tough luck in past relationships, it doesn’t mean all my relationships are doomed.”
She paused, then continued. “In grad school, cognitive therapy always intrigued me. It makes so much sense. You know, if I say, ‘I should be perfect, people should understand me, the world should be fair’—I just have to stop should-ing on myself. The thing is, I always enjoyed using cognitive techniques for my clients, but I don’t really like that approach for myself.”
Hunter let out a big guffaw. “Truer words have never been spoken, Sophie. I know cognitive therapy is all the rage—the insurance companies love it since it’s easier to measure progress—but it doesn’t work for all people, that’s for sure.”
“What does work, then? Can people really change?”
Her earnest question threw him off for a moment, and he paused before answering. “Therapy is all about change, and therapy is my career, so obviously I believe people can change. Change is really hard, though. One of my supervisors used to say, ‘Change is good for all of us. You first.’” He smiled and continued. “In my opinion, a trusting therapeutic relationship is key to that change—a relationship in which the therapist and client can partner together to help the client cope with life better. I also find that it’s important to understand how our family experiences affect our adult relationships with ourselves and others.” Adding a classic shrink response, he asked, “What do you think?”
She crossed her legs. “I always believed I was doing my best therapy when my client was linking family experiences to current struggles and learning to do things differently, if the old childhood patterns were not working. I remember this one nurse I was seeing, Lauren.”
Hunter nodded.
“Anyway, Lauren came in for therapy because she was depressed. Turns out Lauren was a total doormat for her family. She took care of everyone but herself, and they treated her horribly. Her mother was constantly on her case.
“I asked Lauren how she felt when her mother criticized her, and she could not answer me. She just told me a good daughter should help her parents. I eventually got out of her that she was a little upset, and she finally admitted she was damn angry.”
“It sounds like you were very close with this client. She really trusted you.”
“Yeah, I saw her for almost a year, until …” Sophie ducked her head. “Well, until I was arrested.”
After a moment of silence, Sophie resumed her story. “Lauren’s role in her family was to be the caretaker, to take responsibility for making her parents and sister happy. It worked for her as a child, but as an adult, she had no idea what she felt or needed. At the hospital, they gave her all kinds of unpleasant nursing assignments because she never stood up for herself. She often bought presents for her friends, but they rarely returned the favor. And her live-in boyfriend could also be a total mooch.
“Lauren started to realize she didn’t have to knock herself out to make others happy, and she didn’t have any control over others’ emotions. She was totally subverting her own needs for her family, which made her feel resentful, and she was still failing to earn the approval she so desperately wanted. We worked on assertive communication strategies, and she actually set some limits with her family.
“Then it was like Lauren started emerging from her shell. She decided to quit nursing to pursue her real love, computers. She figured out her boyfriend was a jerk who treated her badly, and she kicked him out, only to find a better guy later. Lauren totally blossomed.”
“Very insightful.” Hunter nodded appreciatively.
Sophie blushed. “Well, my client did most of the work.”
“I wasn’t talking about your client,” he said. “I was talking about you. That was deep insight about yourself.”
“What do you mean?”
“Weren’t you talking about yourself there? Your role in the family as the caretaker?”
“How do you know that? I’ve told you hardly anything about my family!”
“And why haven’t you told me anything about your family?”
Sophie looked down, her cheeks blooming with shame. “Because they hate me.”
“They hate you? They ‘treat you horribly’?”
She glanced up, startled, then a sadness crept across her face. “But I deserve it.”
“You deserve it? Lauren’s family was unfairly mistreating her, but your family should treat you badly?”
“It’s not really ‘they.’ It’s ‘he.’ My dad. I’m an only child, and my mom died last year.”
Hunter studied her mournful expression. “The pain of losing your mother is still quite fresh, huh?”
Sophie nodded.
“And your father hates you? What makes you think you deserve his hate?”
Her words were almost a whisper. “He blames me for my mother’s death.”