by Susan Sands
Yes, maybe she should. “I guess I’ve been holding a grudge.” Cammie knew deep down that she’d never have forgiven him for marrying Deb back then, so nothing could have worked out differently, except that she would have hated Deb all these years with a vengeance instead of only seeing her as an untrue friend and somewhat of a victim.
Chapter Ten
‡
Grey had spoken at length to the therapist with regards to Samantha’s and his situation on the phone, leaving Cammie, specifically, out of the mix and focusing on Deb and her illness and its repercussions on Sam.
The counselor suggested they schedule sessions separately for each of them and then together to discuss ways to help improve communication within the home. He was all for that. In fact, the woman even suggested that his father come in periodically since he would be part of this fledgling puzzle. Grey figured it couldn’t hurt to all be on the same page. Hell, nothing could hurt at this point.
Grey and Samantha went through the routine typical for a school morning; breakfast, bed making, and locating last minute items that had mysteriously disappeared from the backpack since Friday afternoon. He hadn’t filled Sam in regarding their early-morning appointment with Dr. Sabine O’Connor, licensed clinical psychotherapist.
When they passed the turn for school without slowing, Samantha’s head whipped around, “Hey, you missed the road—”
“We’re not going to school just yet. We’ve got an appointment with a counselor.”
“No way.” Her tone was scathing, her arms crossed, and her posture became instantly rigid and defiant.
“Honey, are you happy with the way things are right now?” Grey tried to keep a neutral tone so as not to see her off.
“Of course I’m not happy—and I can’t believe you would try and trick me into going to see another one of those stupid people who tries to make me talk about my feelings, Dad.”
“Well, pumpkin, I want you to be happy. And my plan is to do whatever it takes to help us all get there, as crazy as it sounds.” His knuckles were white with the anticipation of battle but his tone was pure honey.
He’d figured out over the years that when he quit revving up, she knew to back down. It was their way to stay in balance. Deb had been all over the map with moods and emotions. At times she’d been honey sweet and then turned to near abuse almost on a dime. Most of her anger had been directed at Grey, thank goodness.
But Samantha now was in such a confused state that he had to contain his obvious frustration with her until they set some real, solid ground rules. Hopefully the therapist would help with that. Having another adult in a position of authority might support his parental role. He could only hope.
Heat emanated from her angry glare. But she was his daughter and likely figured out by his manner that he’d drawn a line in the sand. This time she wouldn’t win. She was headed to the stupid therapist’s office to talk about those unhappy feelings or sit quietly for the requisite hour, whichever she chose. Either way, they would make the acquaintance of Ms. Sabine O’Connor this morning.
They traveled the remaining few miles in silence. Fortunately, Ms. O’Connor’s office wasn’t too far away from home, only about fifteen minutes on the quiet outskirts of Ministry. He often traveled that direction toward Cheneyville, since the town was larger than Ministry and supported big chain stores that sold items in bulk, like building supplies for their home renovation. The amount of materials necessary for the both the Evangeline House job and the renovation of his father’s house—formerly his grandparent’s place—would likely require several deliveries from building supply yards. Until the big jobs began, like the roof and wood for siding, Grey planned to pick things up along the way while he worked.
As they arrived, Sam began to squirm and fidget, her outward show of nerves hurt his heart, but he remained firm in his resolve to see this through.
He’d mapped out the address carefully and pulled into the small parking lot, then with a sigh, cut the engine. Turning to his angst-riddled daughter, he said, “You understand I’m insisting on this for all of us, don’t you?” He searched her sweet face, splotchy now from where she’d carelessly swiped her fingers across her eyes and cheeks. Her green eyes, so like his, stared back at him with a mixture of wariness and defeat.
“I really don’t have a choice, do I?” She said softly.
“No, you don’t. But we will get through it together, like always, okay?”
Her shrug as she released the door handle was her response. He supposed it was better than an all-out refusal to leave the vehicle. Progress often came in very tiny measures.
The office was a renovated cottage, dating back to the turn of the century, from what Grey could tell from the architecture of the place. He enjoyed what he did and rarely missed details as they applied to older buildings. Whoever updated the home had done a nice job from what he could see so far. He rang the bell with one arm around Sam’s stiff shoulders.
The door opened within seconds, as if their arrival had not only been expected but greatly anticipated. The woman who greeted them was nothing like the solemn therapist he’d expected—to put it mildly.
She was gorgeous. But almost before he registered her unexpected appearance, she began speaking directly to Samantha as if he wasn’t there. “Hi there, you must be Samantha. You can call me Sabine. I love the name Samantha, always have. I’m so glad you’re here this morning. Were you able to have breakfast before you left home? I baked blueberry muffins the minute I climbed out of bed. I had a craving during the night—maybe I had a dream about them, I don’t remember. Anyway, there they are on the table if you’d like to have one. There’s juice too, if you want a glass.”
Finally, Sabine turned to Grey, “Oh, hi, you must be Samantha’s father, Grey. Samantha and I are going to get to know each other a little bit if that’s all right with her.” Then she fixed a questioning gaze toward his daughter. Samantha’s expression was bemused, as if she wasn’t quite certain what to make of this lovely steamroller of a woman.
“O-okay, I guess,” Samantha replied to the part-inquiry, part-command.
“Great. I’ve left some additional paperwork for you to fill out on the coffee table in the waiting area. Make yourself comfortable and we’ll see you in a little while.” She fixed him with a gorgeous smile, all straight, white teeth and sparkling blue eyes. Combined with her mane of shiny, sable brown, wavy hair, long eyelashes, and lean-but-curvy body, the impact was nearly staggering. Grey figured it likely would be to any unsuspecting red-blooded man caught off guard the way he’d been.
He sat down on the sofa in the waiting area after locating the paperwork she’d mentioned. She would certainly know his whole life story if he answered all these questions honestly. He’d come this far, might as well go the distance.
As his pen scratched across the paper, he heard a familiar sound, it startled him almost enough to send him running toward the closed door across the hallway. He stilled and listened. Samantha was laughing. Not a soft or quiet giggle; no, this was an all-out, gut-busting, great big belly laugh. Like she’d just heard the funniest joke and couldn’t contain herself. Whatever Sabine said had her hooting and howling with abandon.
He decided then and there he felt love toward Sabine O’Connor for what she’d just done. A great big heart-full-of-gratitude kind of love. Whatever else happened during their therapy sessions from this day forward, he owed her big time for bringing back Sam’s laughter.
For some reason, a picture of Cammie, looking guilty and miserable popped into his head just then. He’d treated her abysmally at the school. How could he believe that she would intentionally try and hurt Sam? He didn’t really believe it, and he knew her well enough to understand that she harbored no bad intentions toward his daughter.
He had lashed out at her because she’d been there during the awful event in the lunchroom. And Samantha blamed her because she’d overheard the other kids and their moms gossiping. The old saying went, “You alway
s hurt the ones you love the most.” Boy that had certainly been the case where Cammie was concerned.
Hearing happy sounds coming from the room, Grey focused his attention to the paperwork in front of him. At least something was going right.
As he was just filling out the last line, the door opened and Sabine, with her arm casually slung around Samantha’s shoulders, followed his smiling daughter out of the room. Not wanting to screw this up, he figured he’d best take his cues from them.
“Hi, daddy.” Was it his imagination or had Samantha somehow snapped out of her funk in a matter of a half hour of so?
“We had a nice chat and some girl talk. I gave Samantha my personal e-mail address and told her to e-mail me one sentence every night to let me know how her day went. I will send a short reply and try to give a little helpful feedback. That way, she can try and begin the day with a simple strategy for positive progress every day.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” Grey couldn’t believe his good luck in finding this woman. Daily therapy for his struggling child—hallelujah. He barely stopped himself from gazing heavenward, arms outstretched.
“Grey, could I see you for a couple minutes privately? As I told Samantha, we should all be on the same page with our communication. Sam, could you begin that writing exercise we discussed? The paper’s in the desk drawer.” Sam nodded and smiled at Sabine, dimples showing.
Sabine motioned Grey to precede her into the office toward a very comfortable chair on the opposite side of her desk. She suddenly seemed very businesslike and far cooler than she’d been in Samantha’s presence. “I know Samantha seems like a different child to you than when she came in, but don’t be fooled.”
Oh, God, what now? “What exactly do you mean?” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“Her issues are extremely complex, and while on the surface she may seem to lighten up fairly quickly, her deeper feelings of abandonment by her mother will come out at unexpected times.”
“She feels abandoned by Deb?” Grey knew she’d felt lonely and miserable without her, but abandoned?
“She wouldn’t overtly blame her mother for leaving because it’s tough for her to grasp how she could miss and love Deb while holding deep anger and resentment simultaneously. Such conflicting emotions wouldn’t jive to a little girl. As we develop an environment of trust, hopefully she will begin to unload some of her locked up torment and begin to understand why she is so angry and that these are normal emotions.”
“They are normal, right?” He asked.
“Perfectly. But you’re not nearly out of the woods yet. So, suit up and get ready for displays of deep resentment at unexpected moments. She’ll use you or anyone she identifies as a threat to her relationship with you as the outlet for her emotions.”
“How should I handle the emotional outbursts?” Grey most wanted to know what to do when this happened.
“Let her vent to a point, but don’t allow her to become abusive or disrespectful. She can express her feelings, but she can’t mistreat anyone else in the process. The good news is that she’s still capable of laughter and humor.” Sabine leveled him with a radiant smile, and he wondered if she practiced the effect it must have on other humans.
“That’s good news, I guess,” he said.
“Yes. You’ve got a long way to go. But by seeking support for Samantha, the road shouldn’t be as long or hard. I’ve got another patient coming in a few minutes, but I would like to have a joint session with the two of you for half an hour next time and then see you each privately for fifteen minutes during the remainder of our time.”
“That sounds like a good plan,” he said as they made their way toward Samantha, who was busily writing something on a sheet of paper and barely glanced up as they approached.
“You ready to head to school?” She looked up then—and her body language changed immediately to a far more despairing droop.
“Remember what we discussed?” Sabine raised her brows in question to Sam, and Sam responded with a brisk nod and small semblance of a smile.
“I’ll see the two of you next week,” and to Sam, “I’ll look for your e-mail this evening, all right?” Sam nodded again meeting Sabine’s eyes in silent communication.
Sabine and Grey shook hands, hers firm and small in his much larger and rougher one.
This had been a really good idea for them both.
Hopefully, the strategies Sabine had suggested for Sam while in school would give her a little much-needed confidence to go about her day without fear and dread. He was curious about their private discussion, but decided Sam would see that as him butting in. As long as this was working, he would let things be.
At their next appointment with Sabine, he should get her opinion on how to go about questioning Sam about her school day, etc. He wasn’t sure whether to allow her brooding and silence or insist on steady communication. She was still so young to not share things with her daddy.
Chapter Eleven
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Grey had to make Cammie understand that he didn’t blame her for what had happened with Samantha at school. He’d lashed out instead of listening because she’d unfortunately crossed his path on his way inside while he’d been frantically trying to get to his daughter. He wasn’t sure how to approach her with an apology.
Now that they’d seen Sabine, and he had real hope in healing for both he and Samantha, he was ready to forge ahead. Somehow he must communicate to Cammie how he felt and buy some time with her before she left town and walked out of his life permanently. Before she married another man and he’d lost any chance of figuring out what might still be between them.
He punched in her cell number quickly so he wouldn’t chicken out. “Hello?” Just the sound of her voice created a mixture of nerves and joy within his entire being.
“Cammie? It’s Grey.”
The moment of silence seemed to stretch endlessly, then she responded, her voice guarded. “Oh, hi. I wasn’t expecting your call.” He could tell that her feelings were hurt.
“Could you meet me in the gazebo? I’d like to clear the air about what happened with Samantha at school the other day.”
“It’s really not a good time right now—” she began.
“Please, Cammie, just for a few minutes. I understand if you can’t, but it’s important. I took Samantha to a therapist after—after what happened, and well, we really do need to talk.”
He sensed her continued hesitation. “I guess I could come out for a little while. Mom is down for the evening, but I don’t want to be gone long in case she needs me. See you in a bit.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate this.” He realized he’d used slightly underhanded tactics to get her outside, but it was essential to their progress, both as friends and in healing the ten year rift that he apologize for his bad response to the situation.
Though his intentions were mostly pure, he couldn’t help but experience a shot of adrenaline at meeting her in the gazebo out back. It had been the setting of countless make out sessions between them during their dating years. The idea of sneaking out after dark brought the thrill of anticipation back. Those cherished and unblemished memories with Cammie had gotten him through some of the darkest times with Deb. There was probably something really screwed up about that.
He found his father sitting in the small study where he watched television. “Hey, Dad, I’ll be back in a few minutes. I need to speak with Cammie for a few minutes. She’s meeting me out back. If Samantha needs me, shoot me a text.” Grey held up his phone.
His dad gave him a steady look. “Okay, son. I’ll keep an ear out for her.”
“Thanks.”
Grey understood his father’s concerns. No one understood the big picture about where he’d been to get where he was currently better than Dad, who thankfully kept his opinion to himself just then. Dad liked Cammie just fine, but likely thought Grey didn’t need any more complications added to his life at the moment.
Grey was carefu
l not to let the screen door slam, alerting Samantha to his leaving the house. He didn’t want to have to explain where he was going and why. Lying to his child didn’t rank high on his list of good parenting strategies, and he really didn’t believe Samantha was ready to give Cammie the benefit of the doubt just yet.
As he reached the gazebo, he could see that she was already there, standing just inside against the railing, staring upward. His heart gave a hard thud. He couldn’t stand to let her go again.
“Hi.” He stepped up into the structure, the wooden steps creaking under his weight.
“Hi.” She turned toward him, arms crossed over her chest protectively.
The white fairy lights were strung around the inside ceiling and down the sides, casting a glow all around them, just enough soft light to make out facial expressions but not bright or harsh.
He motioned for her to sit on the loveseat, and then dropped down across from her on the edge of the wicker chair. The seating was closely arranged, their knees nearly touching in the small space. It was an intimate setting, no doubt, but perfect for their situation.
“Cammie, I’m really sorry for lashing out at you at the school the other day. I know I hurt you.”
She bowed her head for a second, then looked up. “It’s alright. I know you were upset. It was a terrible situation. Those girls—they were awful to Samantha. I wanted to help her, I tried—”
He reached out and put a hand over hers. “I know you did. You wouldn’t have done anything else; I know that. I knew it then, but was so upset that our past had hurt her. I wanted to blame someone. The only person to blame is myself. It’s hard—to be the only one at fault all the time. I’ve carried that for a lot of years and lived with the consequences, as have you. I just didn’t think Samantha would have to deal with those consequences in such an awful and new way. Sometimes I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get out from under making such a horrible mess of things all those years ago. It just keeps coming back in fresh ways to ruin my life and those I love.” His eyes bore into hers then.