Vic shot his final footage of Harriet on Wednesday, a supposed montage of Harriet's happy, post-project life. Harriet inline skating, knitting winter caps for an Asian orphanage, taking photos of her remaining real friends — Bobby was among them, as always, Em noticed — and curled up at home on the sofa with her cat, obviously pretending to read a book for the camera's sake.
Em was glad this was out of the way before she saw Harriet for their last informal session on Wednesday evening. Harriet was attempting a recipe from a baking book, one which her grandmother had given her. Flour was scattered across the counter, dough in small piles next to brightly-colored plastic cookie cutters.
"I guess I won't see you anymore after today," said Harriet. She wiped her hands on her apron and sat down across from Em at the table.
"Let's correct that statement. You won't need to see me as often," said Em, who paused while rolling out a circle of cookie dough. "You've come a long ways from the girl who called the show, Harriet. And you did most of it yourself, you know."
Harriet blushed. "I don't know how true that is."
"Don't doubt it," said Em. "In fact, I can't think of anything helpful to say to you at this point. Except to say that I think you were right about Randy, and that I'm glad you made that decision, even though it was hard. Don't rush into a relationship just to have one. The better you know yourself, the easier it will be to recognize the right person for you."
"You think so?" said Harriet. "It was really hard to tell him no. But I didn't want him to start liking me, and I'd have to tell him that I didn't feel that way."
"It was the right thing," said Em. "And that's the only thing I can say that you need to know."
"I'll miss your advice, though," sighed Harriet. "I know it's time for me to be strong on my own. But it was nice to have somebody else tell me I was doing okay."
"You'll still have it, though," said Em. "We'll still keep in touch. We'll get together sometimes. I want to keep up with your progress."
"'Doctor Emma' keeping up with my case," said Harriet. "I guess that's okay with me." A joking smile appeared on her face with these words.
"You probably won't see much of Doctor Ferris, though," Em said. She had her doubts about him keeping up with Harriet. Colin had never seemed comfortable with the face-to-face aspect of their counseling sessions, even before he skipped the last two. Except for the evening he 'rescued' Harriet. But that was the exception and not the rule, Em imagined.
"Probably not as often," admitted Harriet. "He says he'll still call me, and he gave me a number to reach him when he's not at his office. And he said we'll get together once a month to catch up. Sort of like a reunion. He called it, 'coffee counseling services,' or something like that."
"He did say he called you after missing the last session," said Em. She was surprised to hear that Colin was keeping in touch with Harriet after this was over, especially since he had found most of the project so distasteful.
"We talk a long time on the phone. He's really helpful," said Harriet. "He told me that calling into your show was probably the best thing I ever did. He said he wished more people were strong enough to handle being that open. You know, nice stuff like that."
Em's surprise deepened. "He said that? When?"
"Yesterday. My last session with him," answered Harriet.
"You saw him yesterday?"
"Yeah," Harriet nodded. "He came by and we talked for awhile."
"I didn't realize he kept up his personal counseling sessions," said Em. "I guess I thought since he let the joint ones slide, he must have let his personal meetings with you slide, too." Em had no idea that he had been seeing Harriet this past week. Or, for that matter, that he had said anything that ... well, kind.
"Oh, no. Doctor Ferris is really good about keeping up with our talks. Just like you," said Harriet. "But I guess I won't be seeing him much anymore, like you said."
Em was quiet. "Did he say anything helpful?" she asked.
"Um ... it was mostly the usual advice that you guys give me," said Harriet. "Nothing special."
"Oh," said Em.
"Except — well, he said one thing that was different." Harriet paused. "He said that — that the best thing you can do is try not to get people you find appealing to love you, but to just accept the love of the people who give it on their own. He said, if you love those kind of people back, even if they're a lot different from you, or what you wanted — that's when you'll finally be the kind of person you want to be."
"Really?" Em's voice was soft.
"It was really good advice, I thought," said Harriet. "I mean, about not chasing other people to make them love you, and stuff. I had that problem at first — liking Elton, I mean, and the gang at the office. And none of them ever liked me back the way a real friend did. Like Bobby." She cut a flower-shaped cookie from the dough, its petals drooping as she lifted it free.
"Yes. It's great advice," said Em. "He's right. That's the hardest thing for any of us to do, loving people we don't like as well as others." Her heart skipped a beat with these words, for reasons Em couldn't fathom.
"Anyway, that's all he said." Harriet placed the cookie on the baking sheet. "He put it better than me, of course, so it sounded really deep. But that's just how he is."
It was true. And Em could well imagine the proper phraseology that Colin would choose, although she had a harder time imagining him saying those words. Well, maybe not saying them. After all, he had written things that profound or tender in his book. She was merely having trouble believing that those words were real to him.
"And he told me to listen to you, of course," said Harriet. "He said that you'll probably be better at giving me advice than him. I guess he thinks you understand people better."
That, or he believed his skills were wasted on a girl who stooped to call-in shows for advice. The imp in Emma's brain suggested this. Another insult in the pile — along with all those undoubtedly-insincere words about Harriet calling in. They were insincere, weren't they? Everything about his behavior said yes, that this was simply another round of calculated, false politeness to hide Colin's sneer of contempt for the lovelorn and emotionally weak.
"I'm glad he's been so — so helpful," said Em, for lack of better words at this point. Her mind was still grappling with two different pictures of Colin, neither of which seemed right or real. It made saying anything about him seem like a possible misstatement.
"You guys have been really great," said Harriet. "I really will miss that. Say — maybe all three of us can get together some time. I mean, in a couple of months or something. Then I can hear your advice together, kind of like the first time."
"I'm sure Doctor Ferris would love that," answered Em. Not, she mentally added.
On the way to Frank's for an impromptu dinner and brainstorming session, she pondered the conflicting images in her brain. Why didn't anything ever add up with Colin? He was constantly making her dislike him, then saying something that changed her mind just a little bit. But those splinters of doubt weren't enough to make up for all the rude and cold-hearted incidents between them.
She sighed. For a few moments, he had seemed so ... real. So kind, so thoughtful. She could almost believe that the chivalrous gentleman of his book wasn't just a figment of his imagination. She could almost understand how a woman could find him attractive. Love him, even.
It was the way she had pictured Charles — or, rather, wanted to picture him after all these years of wondering if his heartache had healed. Em caught her breath with this thought. The faded memory of that lonely, aching voice, its short and broken phrases, came back to her in the form of Colin's deep tones.
Somewhere in that voice had been something gentle and tender. Something that had been badly twisted by pain, but had the potential to be something remarkable if it survived.
Colin had been the person who sounded that broken. Even now, Em couldn't make those two pieces of the puzzle fit together, except for the bitterness her advice obv
iously failed to conquer. Sounds like somebody left her stiletto heel marks all over his heart, Isabel had said before.
Maybe those marks were the reason he was cold. They might be the reason he was two-faced and bitter. They could explain a great deal about Colin's contrasting sides, everything he had done except for the reason he had kissed Emma. For that, she had no explanation that fit with any part of his image.
Chapter Nineteen
"And that's why I think we've done Harriet more good than harm with this experience," said Em. "And that's regardless of any backlash from her decision to confess publicly that she felt inferior to everyone else on the planet."
That was Emma's closing remark in the fourth debate. It hadn't been their most rousing exchange, but a certain amount of tension was present in the air the whole time. Em and Colin both watching each other with evident discomfort and emotional distance, with double meanings in every other phrase.
"Well, that was quite a passionate defense, Doctor Emma," answered Janet, levelly. "Any rebuttal, Doctor Ferris?"
Em's remarks defending the project had become fiery at the end, prompted by Colin's seeming neutrality — or, possibly, reluctance — to express the same level of certainty. It was as if all her initial loathing for this project had vanished, even though she was the one who had refused it in the first place.
"No," he answered. "None at all. I think the public has seen enough to judge on its own." His tone was serious, level — and a touch cold, Em thought.
"Then that concludes our fourth and final debate," said Janet. "Doctor Ferris, Doctor Emma, thank you for being our guests these past few weeks."
"Thank you, Janet, for this opportunity," replied Em, dutifully.
Colin cleared his throat. "It was a pleasure to be here."
It wasn't, Em thought. Not even when they were at their best. She was relieved when Janet uttered the next topic aloud for the viewing audience. That was the signal that it was truly over. She was finally free from working with Doctor Ferris ever again.
Bill Lucas was waiting for them both, applauding heartily. "Well done!" he said. "Good show. I think that was your best — don't you think so?" Beside him, Vic and Kelly echoed his enthusiasm.
"I'm glad you were happy with it," Em answered. Her smile felt as if it might crack apart along the edges and crumble away if she kept it much longer.
"And you — Doctor Ferris! Loved the bit about personal journeys and stuff. Good input," said Lucas, attempting to look dignified and serious with the writer. Colin didn't crack a smile in response.
"Well, shall we say it?" Lucas glanced at the two producers standing by, who exchanged glances with each other quickly in return, as if confirming this suggestion.
Something was up. Em's heart plunged low with a sense of apprehension. Any other time, she might have looked at Colin to see if he felt the same, but not this time.
"You two have been so great —"
"Fantastic, actually," supplied Kelly.
"That we can't bear to have this thing end," said Lucas. "The powers that be at WMZ want you two to team up on a semi-permanent basis. Co-hosts of a reality project that shepherds participants through dating challenges. The response to this thing with what's-her-name's transformation has been crazy. This thing is still hot, and we want you two to give the public what it wants."
"People have emailed us. Phoned, even," added Kelly.
"Think of the publicity for your careers! This would mean more big milestones for your show, Emma, without a doubt," said Lucas. "And Doctor Ferris's second book would have double the audience! It couldn't get any better."
"True," chimed in Vic.
"Doctor Ferris, what do you say?" Lucas glanced at Em's debate partner, who had been listening as silently as Emma as this scenario unfolded in all its glory. "You're the tough nut to crack. Are you on board with this?"
"Yes," Colin answered. His face showed no sign of distaste as he spoke these words. "I would be willing to do it again."
His answer shocked Emma more than the calm tone with which he uttered it. Colin was agreeing to do this again, without a fight? After all the distaste he expressed for it? She could understand his answer the first time, perhaps — but, then again, maybe the reason was the same as before. Explained only by the shadowy figure behind his career, Ms. Catherine D. Burg.
"And Emma — we know you're in —"
"No," said Em. Firmly. "No. Thank you. I'm not." She looked Bill Lucas in the eye for these words, offering him a smile which was faint, but honest.
His face fell. "Emma, surely you're joking."
"I'm not, Bill. I'm perfectly serious."
"But Doctor Ferris agrees! Surely that's incentive enough — you can't let him have all the glory for this project. No indeed —"
"I'm sorry. But I won't do this again," she answered. "If it's a choice between him or me in the end, than you can have him." With that, she turned and walked out of the studio.
The door to the hall opened when she was halfway to the elevator. Em had expected Lucas to follow her — but not Colin. He was the one catching up with her, although she walked more swiftly towards the elevator when she realized who was following her.
"Emma —"
"Really?" She looked at him. "You said yes? The person who hated this experience twice as much as I did?"
"I disliked it, yes. But you didn't, at least not all the time," he answered. "Emma, think of what this means for your work —"
"And for your second book. Don't forget," she added.
"Never mind my supposed sequel," he answered, bitterly. "Listen. They would be willing to take you alone. If not now, then very soon, with the right persuasion. I'll walk away if you would take it. After what you've done for Harriet's project, you deserve it."
The elevator doors opened. He followed Em inside, although she had hoped he wouldn't.
"I don't want it," she repeated. "I said 'no' the first time. This time, it's my final answer. I was serious when I said you can have it all to yourself, Doctor Ferris."
"That isn't what I want," he answered. "And it's not what I meant by this offer." For a moment, she thought he was deeply offended. "Would working with me again, even for a few hours, be that distasteful to you?"
"Yes."
She pressed the button for the station's lobby floor. From the corner of her eye, she could see Colin's dissatisfaction with her answer was growing, bubbling under his quiet surface.
"Why?" He was struggling to remain calm, she sensed. "Why, if I may ask?"
"Because I don't like you," Em answered. "Not as a person, or as a doctor. I don't like the hypocritical way you've treated me. Or that you've lied to me." She took a breath. "And it hurt to be reminded how little you value me professionally, because you never failed to do so."
At least one of these arrows struck home. She could see the flash of pain in Colin's face. "I undervalued you," he replied. There was something mocking in his voice, strangely enough. "And I'm to assume by this statement that you believe everyone else around you values you as you deserve?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I think I don't deserve to be criticized by someone who's letting another author use her on a constant basis for his own career."
"You mean Frank?" she replied. Her face flushed hot. "Or should I say 'Doctor Weston' for you? Frank has been more of a gentleman towards me —"
"Doctor Weston — Frank — is a — a cad and a thoughtless —" Colin's speech of contempt shut off at this point as he controlled his voice again. "He's using you, Emma. That should be enough in itself."
"Frank and I are in a relationship," she said. "I offered him my help freely. That's what people do in relationships, Colin. They give each other their best, freely."
"What does he give you in return?" Colin asked. "What gesture of help or recognition does he offer you and your career, Emma? Your name on the cover of his book? His thoughts on your callers' problems? Or does he believe that being in the presence o
f the celebrated Frank Weston is enough?"
Outrage flooded Em. "He doesn't — I never asked —" Her face flushed still hotter as a result of being unable to find the right defense. The problem lay with Colin, obviously — she was judging Frank by his standards. "My relationship with Frank is none of your business."
"You call it a romantic relationship between you two? When he has no loyalties, no exertion on his part to keep it alive? When he has the audacity to be out with Miss Fairfax —" At this point, Colin stopped speaking, abruptly, for Emma's face had gone pale in a second's time.
"I'm sorry. Emma, I — I didn't mean to —" Now Colin's face was filled with crimson, the color of shame. "I shouldn't have said —"
"No, you shouldn't have." Em was struggling very hard to keep her voice steady. Why wouldn't that lobby floor appear? Her eye was fixed on the button, willing it to glow.
Frank and Janet. It wasn't possible. It was just nonsense. This pounding in her heart, the shock in her veins, it was all Colin's imagination that inspired it. She knew Frank. She didn't know Colin Ferris at all.
She wanted to retort that Colin was the only one who undervalued her. She had no proof that anything he said about Frank was anything but his opinion. It was all inspired by the nonsense in his book — romantic nonsense that he clearly didn't believe.
"Emma, please. Say something." He sounded concerned. He was feeling guilty, she surmised. She was silent as she waited. Second floor, first floor. Lobby. The button lit up as the doors opened.
"Goodbye, Doctor Ferris." She stepped out of the elevator and didn't look back. His words about Frank had boiled her blood to the point of fury. She didn't want to wish him luck on his future with WMZ, nor with his second book, whenever that collection of lies was finally compiled.
There was a message on her phone from Frank later that evening. "Em, where are you? I'm at the Taj, and I have the book notes with me...anyway, I heard about your offer from Lucas. Stand strong, okay? Call me."
The second message was from Isabel. "Em? It's me. Heard Lucas wanted to keep the project rolling and you said no. Good for you, but ... are you sure? Just thinking about the show, girl. I mean, that is awesome P.R., even if Doctor Frankenstein's such a creep. Anyway, call me back."
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