The Telling

by Eden Winters

  In answer to his counselor’s question, Michael crossed the room to the now-familiar stereo and inserted the customary CD he always brought to his sessions, relying on a musical selection to set the mood.

  Gideon ‘call me Raff’ sat on a comfortable looking leather chair, long legs splayed, elbows on knees, leaning forward and facing the couch Michael normally sprawled on for their sessions. He was a big man and if he didn’t have such a relaxed manner Michael would have found him intimidating. It wasn’t often that he came across someone bigger that he was, and Raff was huge.

  A pensive look was replaced by one of pleasant surprise as the first strains of music filled the s office. “Rob Thomas?’

  Michael set the CD case down on the bookshelf and took his customary place on the couch for the next hour, to the strains of Get Back to Good.

  “That’s an interesting choice for you, Michael, so I’m assuming there’s a special meaning. What are you trying to tell me today?” The deep rumble of the Raff’s voice had a soothing quality that seemed out of place with his dominating presence. Michael guessed that if he didn’t do something to offset his imposing size, he wouldn’t be very good as a counselor because clients would be afraid of him.

  Michael sighed and settled back into the couch to begin his plea for help. “I want to get better. I’m tired of being this way.” He sincerely meant it with every fiber of his being. He wanted to live a normal life, free of panic attacks, free of nightmares, free of guilt and self-recriminations.

  “And what way is that, Michael?”

  “Weak, needy, afraid… helpless.”

  Rafe scribbled on a notebook. “I want you to think about each of those things, and explain why you use these terms to describe yourself. Let’s start with the first one, as you mentioned it first. Why do you feel weak?”

  “Because I am,” Michael huffed. “I can’t do one damned thing for myself. I can’t shop for groceries, drive—hell, I missed my appointment with you last week because I couldn’t walk a few blocks to get here.” He ran one hand through his hair, tightening his fingers in the strands.

  Raff mused for a moment, then replied, “Okay, you’ve told me what you can’t do. Now tell me the things you can.” His voice remained calm, soothing, unaffected by Michael’s obvious annoyance.

  “I just told you, I can’t do anything. I’m useless.”

  “Michael, you’re not useless. You’re simply looking at things from one direction and not at the big picture. We’ll try another approach. Let’s start with this week. Tell me what you did on Monday.”

  Michael revisited the last few days, sorting Monday from a tangle of memories. “I cooked breakfast for me and Mom, then I went to work in the bookstore.”

  “Ah, so you can do some things after all,” Raff commented, a wry smile exposing even, white teeth that appeared even lighter, in contrast with his dark skin.

  “What? I made breakfast and helped out in my mother’s store. It’s not even a real job. She’s only letting me help out because I can’t do anything else.” He knew he sounded like a whiny child, but dammit, he was tired of being such a burden to everyone.

  “I doubt that very seriously. Is she always there at the store watching your every move, worried you’ll make a mistake?”

  Michael’s silence answered for him.

  “That’s what I thought. Is she making up excuses to go out, leaving you in charge so that you’ll feel needed?

  Again Michael remained quiet.

  “Has it even occurred to you that not only does she like having you near, but that she might actually need the help? Let me ask you this: if you weren’t there would she have to hire someone?”

  “Yes,” Michael answered. “She had someone there who quit on her two weeks before I came home. Sometimes she has to run errands, or go to an appointment. She’s this tiny little thing, no bigger than a minute. Stocking the shelves is hard for her. Not to mention it’d take her like a million trips to haul the books back and forth.”

  “And why is that?”

  Michael shrugged and raised an eyebrow. Where was Raff leading him? “Because I’m stronger and can carry more.” He resisted the urge to add, “Well, duh!” He respected the man too much for sass. Still, he hoped they’d get to the point soon.

  Raff leaned back into his chair, smiling as if he’d achieved some great goal.

  “What?” Michael demanded.

  “You admitted that you’re strong, not weak.”

  “Physically stronger than Mom, but who isn’t?”

  “It’s not muscles that make you strong, Michael, it’s the desire to use those muscles to help others who aren’t as strong. Tell me, who have you been physically strong for this week?”

  Michael thought back over the past few days, remembering helping his mom in the bookstore, moving the refrigerator for Grandma so she could clean behind it, and helping his grandfather work on his tractor out in the barn. There was no way Gramps could have managed the hoist on his own.

  Raff must have gathered from his expression that several examples had come to mind, for he moved on without waiting for a verbal answer. “Now, who have you been emotionally strong for this week?”

  Again, there were plenty of instances to choose from. Although he hadn’t driven himself, he’d gone to his grandparents’ when they needed help, even driving the tractor for a while, though still uncomfortable being out-of-doors. He also recalled the conversation with his mother when he’d tried to absolve her of any guilt over his former stepfather, artfully keeping the conversation with Jay out of it. And then there was Ryan, who was finally coming to terms with the past, and had begun entertaining thoughts of a future.

  “See, you are strong. You’re strong for your family and you’re strong for your friends. You’ll do for them what you won’t do for yourself. Am I right?”

  Raff had a very creative way of making a point sometimes, but Michael had to admit, “Yeah, you’re right.” He should have known the man wouldn’t leave well enough alone.

  “And why is that?”

  After a moment of careful consideration, Michael admitted, “I don’t know.”

  Raff disagreed. “Ah, I think you do, Michael. We’ll continue our session, but I want you to think about that, and before you leave I want an answer, all right?”

  Michael nodded. Maybe a reasonable response would occur to him sometime within the next forty minutes or so.

  “Let’s move on, shall we? Why do you think you’re needy?”

  That question didn’t require a lot of thought, the issue constantly plagued his mind. “I need someone to drive me everywhere I go, for one. Gramps loaned me a perfectly good car, but I’m scared to drive it. I can’t go anywhere alone without freaking out. And I’m clingy,” he added as an afterthought.

  Rather than address Michael’s self-recriminations, the counselor abruptly changed tactics. “I’ve met your grandparents, did you know that?”

  Michael wondered what this had to do with anything, but answered truthfully, “No.”

  “I attended a bake sale and auction to raise money for the volunteer fire department out their way.” He settled farther back into his chair. “Your grandmother makes wonderful apple pies. That must take a lot of work, don’t you think? Picking the apples and peeling them. Especially with her fingers like they are. Her arthritis is pretty bad, isn’t it?”

  Visualizing the bent and twisted hands that so lovingly cooked dinner every Sunday, Michael replied, “Yeah, but she doesn’t pick the apples herself, and if her hands are bad she gets Mom or Angie to peel them for her.” He still didn’t see what this had to do with him feeling weak and useless, but was more than happy to discuss his grandmother with a fellow admirer.

  “Who picks the apples?” Raff asked, sounding genuinely curious.

  “Well, I used to. I don’t know who does now. I suppose Angie or some of her friends. Jay might do it.”

  “Jay. I don’t believe you’ve mentioned him before. Is he family
?”

  Michael almost snorted at the inadvertent double-entendre, but managed to cough instead. He couldn’t help smiling, though, thinking of the dark-haired Texan who had become so important to him and his family. “Oh, he’s a friend of the family,” was all Michael divulged for the moment. There’d be time to discuss that aspect of his life later. Although he suddenly found himself eager to do so, he didn’t want to interrupt what his counselor was trying to accomplish with the Grandma analogy.

  “So, you, your sister, or Jay picks the apples, Angie peels them, then your grandmother bakes the pies?”

  “Yep,” Michael answered, stomach rumbling in response to thoughts of those pies, which were a personal favorite.

  Out of the blue Raff asked, “Michael, what kind of car does your grandmother drive?”

  “She has a Buick, but she doesn’t drive anymore.”

  “Oh, why not?” Raff inquired, as though Grandma’s driving habits were of the utmost importance.

  “She can’t see very well, and with her arthritis—”

  Cutting him off mid-sentence, Raff asked, “Then how do you suppose she got to the benefit that night?”

  “I guess Grandpa drove her.”

  “Well, I want to tell you, the bidding was fierce for Miss Eileen’s apple pies.” A wide smile accompanied the words.

  Michael snickered, knowing from past experience how popular Grandma’s pies were. “I can only imagine.”

  “Michael, how would you describe your grandmother?”

  He thought it over for a minute, about the petite but feisty woman who was the driving force behind the family. “Grandma? Well, she’s kind, but strict, she doesn’t take anything off of anybody, but she’s always there when someone needs her.”

  “Yet you think she’s needy.”

  “No, I don’t!” Michael nearly yelled. How dare this man say such a thing? Grandma was one of the strongest people alive.

  “Someone else drives her where she needs to go, and others have to do things for her. If that makes you needy, doesn’t it make her needy, too?” Once again calm logic led Michael exactly where Raff intended it to.

  “You sneaky bastard.” Damn at the man’s skill in using Michael’s own words against him.

  Raff graced Michael with an indulgent smile, and then continued their discussion. “I’m curious, though. Why do you say you’re clingy? You’ve never mentioned feeling clingy before.”

  “Well…” Michael wondered how best to explain without saying too much. “There’s someone new in my life, and when they’re around I have to be touching them, you know? And when he’s not there…” His mouth dropped open. Oh shit. He’d said too much.

  “Ah. So now we’re getting somewhere. You have a boyfriend. I want to remind you that you don’t have to answer any questions that make you uncomfortable. But if it does, we will be discussing the reason why.” Though Raff’s tone was firm, Michael didn’t feel threatened. Time and again Rafe had proven to have his best interests at heart.

  That trust allowed him to admit, “Yes, I have a boyfriend.”

  “Am I to understand that his name is Jay?” The acceptance on Raff’s face set Michael at ease, so he smiled and nodded, happy that here was yet another person he could talk to about his budding relationship, someone who wouldn’t judge and who’d probably be happy for him. “When Jay is around you want to touch him, and when he’s not around you wish he were. Is that right?”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” Michael replied, studying his shoelaces.

  “That’s not clingy. What you’re feeling is what anyone in love feels for their partner. Does he feel the same for you?”

  Michael shrugged. “I think so.”

  “Do you consider him clingy or needy?”

  “No.”

  Raff glanced over his notes for a moment. “You mentioned that you can’t shop alone. Does Jay go with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does he mind going with you?”

  “No, in fact, he says he wants to take me and spends that time asking me about things I like, showing me what he likes, and then we go home and cook together.”

  “Ah, so you go ‘home,’ do you?” Raff asked, with a broad smile that involved his whole face.

  Michael backpedaled. “No, we don’t live together. I was talking about my apartment.”

  “No, I don’t think you were. I think in this case, ‘home’ is wherever Jay is. You’re in love.”

  Damn, nothing got past Rafe. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Jay is home.”

  “I’m truly happy for you, but I didn’t know that you’re gay.”

  “Is that a problem?” Michael’s heart skipped a beat, worried that he’d misread Raff.

  “No, it’s not a problem for me, if it’s not a problem for you. You see, we try to match clients with counselors of similar backgrounds. You were matched with me because I suffered conditions similar to yours following Desert Storm. If you’d disclosed your sexuality, we could have matched you with a different counselor.”

  “No, I don’t want another counselor,” Michael exclaimed, terrified that he’d have to go through the painful details all over again with someone new.

  Rafe rewarded him with a smile. “I’m glad, because I like working with you and feel we’re making real progress. So, let’s get back to it, shall we? We’ve now ruled out weak and needy. Tell me why you feel afraid.”

  Raff was quite familiar with the nightmares already, of Jimmy’s screams, Ryan’s begging Michael to let him go, and of Jimmy and Ryan’s shouting, “It should have been you!” Today Michael told of the encounter with Crawford, of his helplessness and inability to defend himself from someone physically inferior.

  When he finished, Raff commented, “I think you’re giving this man more power than is his.”

  At Michael’s raised eyebrow he continued, “You’re using him as a bogey-man, a reason not to succeed and be happy. When you became involved with Jay, did you worry about what this man would say?”

  “Yes,” Michael confessed.

  “Why? You don’t like him, he’s no longer a part of your family, and his opinion shouldn’t matter to you. Why do you care what he thinks?”

  “Because he’s a racist bigot who’ll shoot his mouth off to anyone who’ll listen.”

  “And who’ll listen to him? Other racist bigots?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Maybe it’s not Crawford you’re afraid of. Maybe he personifies everyone in the world who might not agree with your relationship. If someone in Seattle thinks homosexuality is wrong, does that bother you?”

  “Well, no. Why should it?”

  “Good question. Why doesn’t it bother you?”

  “Because they’re in Seattle, and I’m in Cookesville, and they can’t affect me.”

  Again Raff beamed like he’d just solved the mysteries of the universe.

  “I don’t get it,” Michael admitted.

  “Michael, it makes no difference if they’re in Seattle or Cookesville, these people don’t matter. The ones who do matter are you, Jay, and your family. How does your family—your immediate family—feel about you being in a relationship with another man?”

  He didn’t even have to stop and think of the answer to that one. “Mom and Angie are thrilled because they like Jay. Grandma and Grandpa don’t really understand, but they accept it because they love me. And they like him, too.”

  “Isn’t that all you need? I’m not saying it’ll be easy, because there are a lot of Crawfords in the world. But do you really want to live your life to please someone who was cruel to you and your family? Someone who you know to be a bad person? Why are you giving this man a hold over you? He doesn’t have any power on his own, Michael; you’re giving it to him.”

  Yeah, made sense, but easier said than done. The words he’d told Jay the day they’d met came back to him: Those people don’t matter.

  “Our time is almost over for today. Have you thought of the answer to my que
stion?” Raff asked as he rose and stretched, back arching with an audible ‘pop’.

  “What question?” Michael thought he’d answered every question he’d been asked. But then again, there’d been so many.

  “The one I asked earlier. Why you’ll do for things for your family and friends that you won’t do for yourself.”

  It took a moment before the answer came to him. “Because they mean more to me than I do?”

  Raff smiled like a proud parent. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing to put others before yourself, a lot of admirable people do that. The trick is to accomplish it without neglecting your needs. Think you can do that?”

  “I can try.” Michael rose from the couch and crossed the room to retrieve his CD. “Look, when Jay gets here, can I bring him in to meet you?”

  While his back was turned he heard the door open behind him and Raff’s deep rumble say, “Please, come in.”

  Michael turned around, wondering who it could be. The next client was never invited in while one was still in the room. What he saw was like the sun coming up over the horizon. Talk about timing. True to his word, Jay had come to take him home and was now shaking hands with Raff, a somewhat bewildered expression on his face.

  “Hi, babe,” Michael greeted, hoping Jay wouldn’t mind that he’d acknowledged their relationship to a stranger—a stranger to Jay, that is. Apparently he’d said the right thing, if Jay’s eager grin was anything to go by.

  After introductions and a few moments of polite conversation, he and Jay took their leave, hand-in-hand as they left the office. All in all, it had been a very insightful session.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Hey, look what I’ve got!” Jay held up a DVD case while balancing a pizza box on his other hand. “Mom sent it. I can’t wait for you to see.”

  He leaned in and kissed Michael before handing over the case and stepping past into the apartment. After depositing the pizza box on the counter, he made himself at home, finding plates and ginger ales and placing them beside the pizza. “First we eat, then we watch.”