Christmas Angel

by Sharon Maria Bidwell

  “As good as.”

  “So Dean’s never told you he loves you?”

  “What gave you that idea?”

  “Well you didn’t say he had. You didn’t tell your sister.”

  “Shouldn’t have to. Shouldn’t have to tell anyone. That’s between us, but if you must know, yes, Dean has told me he loves me.”

  “Good. ‘Cos as much as you’re right about the actions ‘n’ all, it’s kind of nice to hear once in a while.” Lawrence sat one leg over the other, top leg swinging. One arm lay relaxed over the other in his lap. A half-eaten doughnut rested on his plate. He glanced around. When he saw a man in a suit carrying a briefcase stare back, he fluttered his eyelashes. The man flushed and hurried on. Jay bit his lips, shaking from silent laughter.

  “Classic closet case.” Lawrence winked then turned his head toward the scurrying man-with-briefcase.

  “Honestly, it’s a wonder you haven’t been lynched.”

  “Leave it hanging, I say.”

  “Oh for…” Jay shook his head. He loved the bloke—Lawrence was such a law unto himself he was difficult not to love—but Jay had never tried to talk seriously to him before and now knew why. “Can you be sincere for five minutes?”

  “Never tried. You should see me at funerals.” Lawrence took another bite of doughnut then said something like, “Foo tink Dink feeing zum fun?”

  Jay shook his head. Lawrence swallowed, his eyes bulging. He took more time, mouth working as he sipped his drink, trying to wash down his food, until he finally cleared his mouth. “Goodness. Can’t say when I last tried to get something that big down.” He didn’t wait to see whether he’d made Jay laugh. “I said, do you think Dean is seeing someone?”

  “No.”

  “So you really have no idea what’s bothering him?”

  “Nope.”

  “And you don’t want to ask him?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Why?”

  Jay took a moment before answering that. “Does it make sense to say I want to treat him the way I’d like him to treat me? If this goes on, of course, I’ll ask what’s up, but I don’t want to interrogate him every time I think there’s something wrong. Maybe it’s something he needs to work out for himself. He’ll come to me when it’s time.” He shook his head again, cradling his almost empty cup between his hands. “Maybe I’m wrong. If I were to tell April, she’d say I’m avoiding. Say I don’t want to know the truth. I don’t think that’s it, though. I just don’t want to keep…keep…”

  “Bugging him? You want to give him space because if you asked for the same, you’d like him to be as gracious to you. And, you want to show him you do trust him.”

  After a moment of consideration, Jay nodded. “Yeah. Those things and more.”

  “So that’s not the problem, unless you care what April thinks?”

  “I don’t.” He caught Lawrence’s sceptical look. “I am so over her opinion on most everything.”

  “Good. ‘Cos, calling you a girl, not cool.”

  “No.”

  “Also sexist against her own kind.”

  Jay didn’t reply to that but Lawrence was right.

  “I take it the problem is you’d like to talk about April and Brian, but you don’t think now is the time to be doing that with Dean.”

  “About right.”

  “Oh well, dig the gossip with me. I’m all for talking about April. Say what you want.”

  This time Jay laughed aloud. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I don’t think it will help. You don’t know her and I can’t ask if you’ve spotted anything untoward in her behaviour. Oh damn.” Jay had turned his head as a woman with a child and pram squeezed between the tables, making Jay shift. Strands of his hair had fallen into his mug. He reached for napkins, grabbed the hank of wet hair, and dried it.

  Lawrence cocked his head to one side. “See what you get for being the girl?”

  Jay gave him what he hoped was a fuck you look, but Lawrence only smiled.

  “I have one question left. If April has these bouts of acting a bitch, how do you know she’s acting untoward? I mean more than she usually does. I mean…geez that would be an accomplishment. Though maybe her bitchiness is a sign of something you don’t know about.”

  This supported what Jay thought and what he wanted to discuss with Dean. He still didn’t want to bother his other half, not when Jay’s own mind was so muddled on the matter of April. Considering what his sister had put them through—and if this was another instalment in that long running saga—he didn’t want Dean to suffer more of the same, no matter what the man’s mood.

  He didn’t want to go through it himself.

  Jay loved his sister, but she drove him crazy. He’d begun to think of her as useless as a middle manager—a classic joke in his line of work because most of his crowd had no time for them. They tended to get in the way and create stress and non-work to justify their useless existence. Similarly, April needed to create a fuss and being an annoyance in his life because she didn’t know how to be anything else. If he had it out with her, he risked upsetting their parents. What a pickle was family at times.

  * * * *

  At last Candice got round to the easier problem. She’d ended the last session with a question. Had he considered his insecurity stemmed from trying to be worthy of Jay?

  “I knew the answer the moment you asked. Didn’t have to think. If I say yes, it doesn’t even come close. Hard to explain the pressure.”

  Candice tapped the pen against the writing pad. A ‘tell’ he couldn’t interpret, but one that came across as surprising in a therapist. Helped him to see she wasn’t perfect.

  “Maybe it will help if I start by telling you your insecurity is a real anxiety issue for you. It’s not something I can help with in the short time we have before Christmas. The chances are we’re only seeing the tip of the iceberg of your issues. I strongly advise you to—”

  “Yes, yes, sure, I know. Sorry for the interruption,” Dean added when Candice closed her mouth and stared in that focused way of hers he deciphered as disapproval. The wide, unblinking gaze was the closest she came to showing displeasure. Unlike Dean, Candice’s personality allowed for an extraordinary level of patience. “I do understand. Honest.” Did he protest too much? “I just need a way to make it through to the New Year. I’m looking for…” God! Dean wanted to scream. The number of sentences he began with no idea how to complete grew daily.

  “You’re seeking for the path ahead. I understand that. If I can show you the way in these few informal sessions, I’ll be happy to do so, but I want you to promise whether you continue under my care or allow me to transfer you to someone better suited to help, please, consider continuing.”

  “Sure.” He cast out the word with no real consideration as to the significance of the promise. No way to tell whether Candice believed him. Crap. He didn’t know if he believed himself, but no harm promising to think. His final decision might well depend on what happened next.

  “Let me discuss insecurity to begin. I have more women than men come to me with confidence related issues.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “Does it? Do you think women are more diffident than men?” Candice didn’t wait for an answer. “That may be true, but on the whole I believe women are more willing to admit to it. With men, I often have to dig deeper to discover the issue at all. Statistics show sixty percent of women are self-critical. I won’t run a load of figures or quote reports at you that will make little sense or hold your interest, but one thing may make you sit up and listen. The most common negative thoughts people have relate to their being different in some way. Do you feel different, Dean?”

  “Aren’t I?” He almost asked her why that would be a bad thing, but she didn’t mean individualism.

  “What I’m wondering is, in your search to understand your sexuality, are you looking for a group definition for yourself? There may be one, but as much as people are often the same, we are
also individuals. Unique in our way. Would it be so terrible if your uniqueness extended to what you consider being a problem? Would it be terrible to stand out from a crowd? Or with a small percentage of people? Maybe you match a typical psychological classification. That doesn’t mean it’s one you will like. What I’m asking you to consider is that at the end of these six sessions, or in six weeks, six months, a year, you may find the answer isn’t what you imagine it should be. I want you to prepare for that.”

  “Does that happen? That people don’t care for what they find out about themselves?”

  “Yes. Not often in my personal cases, I’m glad to say, but it happens. Are you ready for that?”

  “Yes.” No hesitation, though doubt niggled.

  Candice gave him her steadfast gaze, the one that said she didn’t buy his merchandise. The look made him like the Arthur Daily of his story. A used-car salesman instead of someone who took meticulous care of antiques, fine automobiles beloved by their owners. He knew how to offer a loving hand to what many people considered nothing but tin cans on wheels. Why couldn’t he offer half that benevolence to others in his life? Or to himself?

  “Good. Now tell me about your inner voice.”

  “Inner voice?”

  “We all have one. What does yours say to you when you worry?”

  Why ask that question? She knew, didn’t she? Hadn’t they addressed this? He feared he’d let down Jay by cheating one day. That his seemingly dormant need for a woman might eventually overwhelm his need for Jay. Not what she asked, though. If Candice wanted him to go over this, she had a good reason.

  “That I’ve never had a proper relationship. The few that lasted any duration ultimately meant nothing. I failed those times and I’ll fail again. That I’ll get no relationship right. I’ll hurt the only person I’ve ever cared for aside from my parents as a result. I’ll damage him in some way and he’ll never have the loving relationship he deserves. And it will taint any romantic attachments either of us tries to make…afterwards. My failure will ruin both our future happiness.”

  Dean stopped, pressing both thumbs to closed eyes, index fingers bent to his forehead. His chest grew tight, and he had to hold his breath a few seconds as he struggled to hold back tears.

  “Dean, are you all right?”

  He nodded, though far from fine. Candice gave him time. When he fought off the urge to snivel, he blinked, swallowed, moved his hands from his face, but didn’t look at her as he said, “Christ, I wasn’t aware I carried all that. I mean, people expect me to screw up. I’ve been focusing on, if I did, how they’d throw it in my face, tell me I’m the failure they always knew I would be, but I didn’t know my feelings went so deep.” Dean laughed. “I should have had the therapy before moving in with Jay.”

  “Why?”

  “At least I might have a clue.”

  “A clue to what? Dean, you make it sound as if you should understand exactly what you’re doing. That you should not only have found the path you seek but should grasp every step to take along the way. Think of it as sounding as a parent who expects to get everything right in raising a child. You don’t have every answer. You’re allowed to get things wrong.”

  “But being wrong can be disastrous.”

  “Maybe, but from what you’ve told me, Jay is a forgiving sort. You’ve not told him you’re seeing me?”

  “No.”

  “Do you intend to?”

  “In time.” He would, though hard to imagine doing so.

  “On the one hand I can understand your need for privacy. But consider that not telling Jay is a way of withdrawing from him, which can be common. Relationship insecurities can lead to feelings of jealousy or possessiveness, but these don’t apply to you.”

  Dean moved his head from right to left and back. “No. Well, unless someone threatens Jay. Then I can be territorial.”

  Her lips curved. “Sounds an interesting story there. Does Jay ever make you feel rejected?”

  “Definitely not.” His ready answer was simple to give, this time.

  “Then your insecurity comes from you questioning your worthiness. You’re thinking of Jay as someone who is too good for you. Maybe part of you thinks you shouldn’t have started the relationship because you’d be better off never risking the hurt.”

  “I can’t say you’re wrong. The thing is…” He met her gaze. “I still worry about hurting Jay more than I care for my own feelings.”

  “The thing is…” Candice echoed his words back at him, “you should care about yourself as well. I want you to challenge this inner voice, and I’ve a few exercises you can do to overcome this. The irony is people see you as someone who is self-assured to the point of arrogance, when you have an issue with self-esteem.”

  He was frowning—the ache in his face told him how furrowed his forehead must be. “I never thought so before now. Why didn’t it affect my life until now?”

  “I think you can answer that?”

  She made it a question, one which surprised Dean into answering. “I never cared enough. It never mattered.”

  “And what does that tell you about your relationship with Jay?”

  “That he’s the one for me. That I really love him.”

  The few seconds of silence were weighty and deliberate.

  “Your problem isn’t your relationship, Dean. The problem is that your low self-esteem allows that little nagging voice of doubt as to your own capabilities in this relationship to sneak in. Yours and that of others. It’s easy to think of ourselves in a negative way. It’s also self-sabotaging.”

  Another beat of silence permeated the room while that sank in. For a second the hammering of a pneumatic drill pounded its way into his brain, vibrating through him. Had the roadworks started up again? No. This sound was internal, maybe came from his stuttering heart.

  “Don’t examine other people’s relationships. You need not be equal to what their relationships are. You need not do things the way your neighbours do. Or April. Or Jay’s parents. Or yours. In nothing in life do you have to be the same as anyone else. Chances are these supposed better relationships aren’t as perfect as they appear.”

  “April’s aren’t.”

  “Yet you worry about a person’s opinion, who should spend more time taking care of her own life than interfering with yours. I don’t agree with that thinking and if you spare enough consideration to reflect on this pattern of yours, I believe you’ll agree it’s not healthy. I’m not saying run her down to make yourself feel better. I don’t advocate that at all. It won’t help her. Neither will it do you any good. But it is interesting to note that her judgement concerns you. People who are imperfect and have problems of their own often overcompensate. They try to project an image of superiority. They are happiest when making others unhappy. I don’t know April. I have only your perception of her and, forgive me for saying, but you might be biased. It may be she is sincerely worried for her brother, has a real basis for her low opinion of you. If that’s the case then focus on why, but only as it relates to improving where you think it’s necessary. Maybe seeing her brother happy when she isn’t, seeing both of you happy, makes her wonder where her own life is going. People often hold mirrors up to others regarding their lives, including relationships.”

  “The book you gave me to read talked about narcissism.” Dean pushed ahead, waited a fraction for Candice to give him a nod. “April calls me narcissistic more often than she calls me anything else. The info—”

  “I don’t want to interrupt your thoughts, but let’s talk about that, shall we? Not the first time you’ve mentioned it. Have you ever tried to make Jay insecure about himself?”

  “No. Not intentionally. I don’t know if he’s felt that way. About our relationship, before it was a relationship, sure, he didn’t believe it would last, but I don’t think I ever made him insecure about his looks or his self-worth.”

  “Do you ever brag about what you do? Your accomplishments?”

  “Work?
No. I mean, I’ll answer if asked, and I guess I can discuss the cars, but no. I never told people without a reason. I guess…I’m sort of introverted that way.” April would laugh to hear him use the word, but what he’d said rang true.

  “You don’t boast about your qualifications?”

  “What the hell for?”

  “You don’t gloat or set high standards for others?”

  “No, and I only set standards at work where we need a certain quality of production.”

  “Then you may be less narcissistic than you think. Now back to the material I gave you to read.”

  Despite feeling dismayed over her easy dismissal, Dean answered, “Oh yes. It said there were two types, those with entitlement issues, and those where it’s all swagger. At heart, they recognise themselves as weak. I’m wondering if my narcissism makes April feel inferior.”

  “It’s more complex than that, but you may have a point. Maybe what she takes for your arrogance is a good helping of self-esteem.”

  “You just told me I have none.”

  Candice laughed. “No, Dean. It’s not a be all and end all thing. We can be supremely confident in one area of our lives and exceedingly timid in others. In business and work, and usually socially, I’d say you are remarkably confident. Where sustaining that social connection is concerned, as in a long-term relationship, that’s where you have doubts.”

  “But it’s been three years. We work as a couple. We’re happy.”

  “Then why did Brian mentioning your sexuality cause this upheaval in your life?”

  Good question. Candice had many. “I guess it’s been three years and I’m wondering how much longer it can last? I guess…”

  “You guess?”

  “Okay, I’ll say it.” A little anger seeped into his tone. Dean eased back, pushing into the chair. He sometimes frightened people when he didn’t mean to, might come across as aggressive without intending to be, even when his aim was the opposite of violent. He didn’t want to upset Candice for many reasons. She might stop seeing him, true; but scaring her, intimidating any woman, made him sick. He adopted a calmer tone, positive what had occurred wasn’t lost on her. “What happens next? We have a home. We’re living together. In love. What if Jay wants more?”