The Relationship Coach

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The Relationship Coach Page 14

by Sylvia McDaniel


  “Chad, if you had shot the scene with the sun behind you, the natural light would have highlighted your subjects better. Where did you shoot this film?”

  The kid’s baggy jeans, sideways ball cap, and t-shirt made him look like he belonged to a street gang. “Downtown Garland. We were hanging out, and I had my camera, so I started filming.”

  “Good enough. For the final assignment of the year, I want a focused five minute short. Film it like you’re telling a story. Think of yourself as a news reporter. Show me the action or the results of whatever you’re filming. I’ll be looking at how you frame the shots.”

  “Now, let’s look at José’s.” Reed put the CD into the player.

  Lacey stared at how the kid had filmed an elderly couple holding hands as they walked down the street. He’d captured the way the woman glanced at the man and smiled. Birds chirped in the background, competing with the sound of cars and children, while the couple strolled through the park. His film memorialized the elderly pair’s devotion for each other on film and warmed her heart.

  “Excellent, Jose, excellent,” Reed said. “You captured their emotions. The lighting is good, and the audience is with the couple. We’re sharing their love as they stroll through the park.”

  Two squirrels ran in front of the couple, and the camera lens followed them as they chased one another around a tree, until finally one of the animals stopped. The other squirrel leaped onto its back and started humping.

  The kids roared with laughter, and even Lacey couldn’t help but giggle.

  Reed shook his head at the student. “Just when I think you have a great human interest story, you switch to animal lust.”

  “They jumped in front of the old couple, and I had to see what would happen next,” the kid exclaimed, a mischievous smile on his young face.

  “Excellent, Jose. Not the humping squirrels, but what you just said. All good filmmakers have to see what is going to happen next. That’s what keeps the audience entertained, and their interest focused on your film. The audience must be riveted to the film, or they won’t spend their money on your next project.”

  “It just came naturally,” the kid said.

  Reed laughed. “Yeah, I see you’re a real nature lover.”

  Warmth seemed to fill her as she watched him work with these young kids. They liked him, and he was eager to teach them what he knew about filmmaking. She’d never expected to see him so eager and open, while he taught.

  He stood in front of the students. “When we meet again in two weeks, I want you to present me an outline of what you’re going to do for your final shoot. Make it detailed. I want to know you’ve put some thought into this final project.”

  Groans filled the classroom.

  “Hey, this is a voluntary class. There’s a door if you don’t want to do the work.” He gazed around the room at everyone. “Any questions for next time?”

  No one responded. “Okay, I’ll see you in two weeks.

  Reed sat down at the desk, packing up his notes, while most of the boys scrambled for the door. A few came up to Reed and spoke to him. She couldn’t hear what they talked about, but just watching him help these kids from a lower socio-economic high school gave her a new respect for Reed. A first-class filmmaker, he didn’t have to spend time helping others, but he obviously enjoyed teaching these boys.

  The others left, leaving only Jose. “Mr. Hunter, I thought I was getting some good film.”

  “Your shooting is excellent. It’s your subjects that are lacking.” Reed pulled his chair closer to Jose. “Of everyone in this class, you have the best natural talent. You need to prove to me you’re serious about making yourself into a filmmaker. I put my name on the line for you when I recommended you to the film school, show me you can produce. I know you have the ability, now prove to me you have the determination.”

  Reed’s pep talk to his student was encouraging, but asking the kid to work harder. And working harder was what it took in today’s world.

  “I need that scholarship, man. I’ll do better,” the kid said.

  “Good, see you in two weeks.”

  ***

  Lacey walked with Reed to the car.

  “Sorry, that took longer than I’d planned,” he said, as they hurried across the parking lot.

  “That’s okay.”

  Reed took her elbow as they went. “Jose’s a good kid, but he doesn’t have any direction. His parents are not involved in his education. I suspect they’re either drug users or alcoholics.”

  A tingle of awareness rippled through her body at his touch, and she wondered why her body responded to the feel of his fingers on her elbow.

  “Wow. I guess there are worse things than multiple marriages, regarding your parents,” she said, not able to fathom having parents on drugs.

  “A lot worse. I’m hoping I can get Jose a scholarship into film school.”

  Lacey gazed at the man before her. There was so much more to him than she’d first believed. A little on the cocky side, but he was an artist, and creative types were carefree individuals who lived life their way. But Reed seemed genuine and caring when he worked with these kids. Anyone who took on a class of high school students in a poor neighborhood had her admiration.

  Was Reed more the real deal than Dean?

  “Hey, you’re zoning on me.”

  “Sorry, I guess the day is catching up with me. I was thinking about those kids and how tough their world must be, surrounded by gangs and drugs. Makes me appreciate my little corner of the world.”

  Reed made documentaries that showed different aspects of the world, both good and bad and helped less fortunate kids, while Dean worked for a pharmaceutical company and focused on the next step on the corporate ladder of success. Her role as Dean’s wife would be to help him achieve that corporate success. Is that what she really wanted?

  “Yeah, they’re a tough bunch. If I can help them in some small way, I will, but they have to want to succeed. There are no free rides in life,” he said.

  Lacey chuckled at Reed’s no nonsense approach, but her mind returned to thoughts of Dean. By helping him pay off his credit cards, was she giving him a free ride?

  They walked alongside each other, their pace unhurried until they reached his car and climbed in.

  “Thanks for coming with me. I know this wasn’t what you had planned tonight.”

  She gazed at Reed, feeling like today had helped her understand him. Even his attempts to rile her over her sex life. “Actually, I enjoyed the evening. It showed me a lot about who you are. Whatever doubts I may have had about you doing a documentary on my business have disappeared. I’m confident you’ll do a great job.”

  ***

  Three days later, Lacey sat in Dean’s new car while he drove them to dinner.

  “Is this not the best ride ever? The leather seats are so soft it feels like they just wrap around you,” he bragged.

  “What did your parents say about the car?” she asked, still not comfortable with the opulent vehicle and wanting to know if anyone besides herself thought he’d dove into a financial pit .

  “My mom loved it, but Dad told me I got ripped off. He said I paid too much.”

  Her thoughts exactly. “That must have been disappointing.”

  Dean shrugged. “My dad still has the first dollar he ever made. The old man wouldn’t know luxury if it bit him in the ass.”

  They pulled into the drive of the Mansion Hotel and restaurant.

  “I thought we weren’t going to spend a lot of money?” Lacey said, as they waited in line for the valet.

  God almighty! She would have been happy at the local restaurant out on the lake or any number of places that didn’t cost two arms, a leg, and your first-born child.

  “Oh honey, it’s just dinner.”

  “But it’s the Mansion, for God’s sake,” she said, her voice rising.

  “We’re celebrating. We’ve found the right apartment, I bought a new car, and business is going
well. We deserve a celebration dinner,” he said, reaching over and patting her on the leg in a soothing manner.

  Lacey fumed, all her doubts screaming red alert, fear rising up in her chest threatening to choke her. The valet opened the door, and she stepped out, hesitant. What should she do?

  Dean came around the car and handed the valet the keys and then took her by the hand as they walked into the restaurant.

  At the maitre d’s desk, Dean said, “Dean Vandenberg, we have reservations for two at eight.”

  Lacey whipped around to gaze at him in surprise. He’d planned this evening? This wasn’t just a momentary decision. Could tonight be the night he asked her to marry him?

  An impending sense of entrapment overwhelmed her, and she wanted to run for the door, but her legs had turned to jelly.

  But she wanted to marry Dean. Didn’t she?

  The hostess led them through a doorway and into a small dining room. She placed the napkin in their laps and gave them each a wine list.

  “Look around, honey. Do you see anyone famous? Several of the Dallas Cowboys are known for eating here on a regular basis,” he said, his gaze searching the opulent restaurant.

  Lacey glanced around the room. The crème colored walls and recessed lighting radiated a soft-glow in the elegant restaurant. The paintings on the wall displayed Victorian royalty as the formal waiters moved quietly about the room.

  She didn’t recognize anyone, and frankly, she didn’t care. All she could think about was the expense of this dinner and whether or not Dean planned on proposing. This was the type of restaurant where he could do a grand gesture in front of everyone.

  “No, I don’t recognize anyone.” She buried herself in the wine list. The thought of him asking her to marry him weighed on her. The idea of marriage no longer appealed. In fact, the idea of them living together no longer held any interest.

  That realization shocked her. She glanced at Dean. What was she doing?

  “Lacey, honey, is that the channel eight sportscaster?”

  She really didn’t care if it was, but she glanced up and looked across the room. “I don’t think so.”

  “Darn, I really wanted to see someone famous here tonight.”

  They were moving in together because she wanted to marry him. Handsome, successful, Dean had all the right stats on paper. But he was materialistic, concerned about appearances, and his finances didn’t reflect his image. And if she moved in with him, she would be enabling him to continue this reckless financial lifestyle.

  The waiter brought the food menus and recited the specials of the evening. Lacey didn’t hear a word, as she sat in a stupor, wondering when her feelings had changed. After taking their order, the waiter left, and Lacey couldn’t tell you if she’d ordered sawdust.

  For the next hour, Dean talked on and on about his project at work. If he noticed she seemed quiet, he never said anything.

  After dinner, he insisted on ordering dessert. Over cheesecake, she half-expected him to drop down on one knee and ask her to marry him, but he didn’t.

  When the meal was finally over, and there was no proposal, she let out a sigh of relief.

  “You okay?” he asked, gazing at her. “You’ve been quiet tonight.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, realizing just how tense she’d been throughout the dinner.

  They brought the check, and she gasped at the three hundred dollar bill.

  He pulled out a credit card and she winced. The waiter took it to the back and five minutes later returned. “Pardon me, sir, but there’s a problem with your credit card.”

  Dean looked surprised. “Excuse me.”

  “It’s been declined. Do you have another card or do you wish to pay cash?”

  Opening his billfold, Dean thumbed through his cash while Lacey cringed. He turned to her. “Honey, I don’t have enough cash. Can you pick up the bill and I’ll pay you later?”

  Lacey opened her purse, whipped out her credit card, and handed it to the waiter.

  Dean smiled and grasped her hand. “I’m sorry honey. I thought I had enough left on that credit card. I guess I didn’t.”

  “Are you telling me your card is maxed out?”

  “Yeah, I must have hit the limit.”

  Lacey said nothing. This would never work. She had to end it, and she had to do it tonight.

  The waiter returned her card. “Thank you and please come back.”

  She all but jumped up from her chair in her eagerness to get out of this restaurant and away from Dean. They walked out of the door of the Mansion, and Dean handed the valet the ticket.

  When the car pulled up, the valet opened the door, and she sank down onto the seat. Like sunshine after a storm, relief washed over her, and she sighed a heavy breath.

  She’d been stuck with an expensive dinner bill, but she’d escaped a marriage proposal. A dinner bill was a mere pittance for her slow realization that the relationship was doomed. And cheaper than a wedding or even moving in together, only to realize she’d made a serious mistake.

  She’d gladly pay the three hundred dollar bill.

  “When do you want to sign the lease? I thought we could do it tomorrow if they’re open,” he said as he drove the car out of the parking lot.

  She had to do this now, before they arrived at her apartment. She turned toward him in the seat. “It’s over, Dean. I’m through.”

  He glanced at her, his forehead drawn together in a frown, his eyes searching hers. “Yeah, the meal is over, and now we’re going home and having sex.”

  The image of the two of them together no longer appealed, and she knew with certainty she was doing the right thing by ending this now. “No, I’m breaking up with you. We’re not moving in together. We’re no longer a couple.”

  For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and then he shook his head. “Come on, honey. I know I stuck you with the check, but I said I’d pay you back.”

  “It’s not the bill. We’ve dated for over six months, and in the last week, I realized this is not what I want,” she said her voice quiet and determined, knowing this break was for the best.

  “You’re just getting cold feet. We’re great together,” he insisted.

  “No, Dean, we’re not.”

  His hands gripped the steering wheel and twisted it tightly. He glanced at her, his gaze dark and menacing in the mood lighting of the car. “Lacey, this isn’t funny. Why are you angry?”

  He just didn’t get it, and she didn’t know if he would ever understand. “I’m not mad. I’ve realized the relationship is not working for me any longer.”

  Dean pulled into the parking lot of her apartment and parked the car. He turned off the engine and started to exit.

  “I’d like for us to end it right here and now,” she said, knowing if she let him into her apartment, she might have trouble getting him to leave.

  He halted, his tumultuous gaze turning to her, his expression a mask of pure fury. “Let’s go upstairs and discuss this. I’m trying to understand the problem, so I can fix it.”

  How could he understand the problem between the two of them when he didn’t hear what she said? Dean practiced selective hearing and only heard what he wanted.

  “Dean, this week I realized we have a communication problem,” she said, keeping her voice low and calm.

  “We’ll work on it,” he responded before she could continue.

  With a sudden realization, she knew this problem hadn’t just occurred tonight. It had been going on for a while, and she had failed to recognize the symptoms. “No, I don’t think so. Your car was a deal breaker for me. I had just learned of your credit problems, and then you showed up with this new car. I agreed to pay more than half of our expenses, until you paid everything off, but you went out and acquired more debt. Somehow, I must have failed to communicate to you that being in debt is something I’m not willing to live with.”

  “We can work this out.”

  “No, we can’t,” she said, reaching for the
door knob of the car, wanting to get away.

  For a moment, he seemed stunned, and then the tightness in his expression increased. “I thought you were happy.”

  “I thought so, too. But when we started looking at apartments, I began to have doubts,” she said. “The car made me realize this wasn’t going to work.”

  “I’m not giving up my car,” he said, gripping the steering wheel like he feared the car would magically slip away.

  The car was more important than their relationship!

  “I would never expect you to,” she said, knowing with every fiber of her being she was doing the right thing.

  He sighed. “We could go to a counselor and work out our issues.”

  She cringed inside, realizing this was what she would tell one of her clients. But she didn’t want to work on this relationship. She only wanted it over. “I wish I thought that would help us, but for me it’s over.”

  He shook his head. “Damn, you blindsided me.”

  God, he just didn’t get it! Had she been blind these last few months? Tonight, he hadn’t said he loved her and would be heartbroken at their break-up. He seemed more worried how she had ruined his plans for the big fancy apartment. Maybe her mother had been right.

  She opened the door, knowing the time to end this had long since past. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

  He gazed at her, his mouth tight with rage. He turned the key, starting the car. “You know where I’m at if you change your mind and want to talk.”

  “Goodnight.” She shut the door and hurried up the walk to her building, a sense of having shed dead weight making her lighter. Instead of sadness, a sense of calm and rightness filled her as she entered her apartment.

  The squeal of tires on pavement pierced the night as a black Mercedes shot out of the parking lot.

  ***

  Amanda sat across from Lacey, munching on a salad while she listened to her friend. When she’d gotten a call from Lacey, she’d expected to find her friend devastated, but instead, she appeared happy, relieved.

  “So now, I’m trying to analyze what went wrong. I don’t know if I was just blinded by the fact he had so many good qualities or if I never really knew the real Dean. As I look back, I realize how much he didn’t hear me. Me, Amanda. I know I was loud and vocal about my desires and what I wanted in life. How could he not hear me?”

 

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