She took a sip of water. “They didn’t learn any better, so they can’t help showering us with their constant and well-intentioned negative feedback. They express doubt that we’re able to accomplish something or minimize things we’ve done. The worst part is that we believe them! We internalize those words and create an inner voice that ‘puts us back in our place’ when we try to expand our limits and be all we can be.”
Her face was lightly flushed in excitement. “It’s unfortunate! And it limits our potential so much! There are so many things we convince ourselves we can’t do or have. All because it doesn’t fit with what we were told we could achieve all our lives.”
Richard was impressed with the passion she was showing.
Sighing, she added with a tired voice, “And the worst part is, we tend to perpetuate the story by bringing people into our lives and our romantic history who put us down in the exact same way.”
He remained silent, looking at her sad expression and digesting her words. He wondered if there was more about that ‘perfect marriage’ to Michael O’Hara than what he’d been able to find out. Too late to wonder now. In three more days, he’d be out of there.
Shortly, she recovered her cheerful expression and asked, “Did I win the debate this time?”
Richard laughed.
Leaning toward her, he whispered, “Since I was put down as a child whenever I tried to expand my potential, I need to fight the voices in my head and learn to practice . . . what’s that word you love? Assertiveness. So, the answer is no.”
Joy gasped and then laughed. “Listen to you, mocking me. You’ve been paying attention to what I say to use it against me! You’re terrible!”
Smiling with pride, he bowed his head. “Yes. I’m terrible. Thank you very much.”
Joy laughed again. “You are impossible to beat in an argument. I feel sorry for Hailey.”
Richard was surprised that she remembered Hailey’s name; he’d probably mentioned it only once. He looked at Joy, thinking, You are impossibly innocent. How could I explain to you that Hailey and I never talk like this? We just get drunk together and have brainless sex.
He didn’t say anything. His memory went back to the conversation he’d watched on the monitors the night before. He looked at Joy smiling, her face beaming, flushed by the laughter. How could she doubt her own beauty? How could she ever think herself undesirable?
“Why so quiet?” asked Joy.
Still looking straight in her eyes, he answered, “I was wondering how you manage to look so beautiful, to have such an amazing body after having three kids. Much younger women would kill to look like you.”
Joy’s sudden blush and tremor made it obvious that she’d heard him. However, she pretended the comment never happened.
“Do you know what? It’s getting late. I’ll take my food to go. Waiter!”
Within minutes, Joy had her food in a carryout box and was rushing out the door.
Chapter 18
“Does Joy know you’re drooling over her?”
Andrews had uttered the words with so little preamble that Richard choked on the coffee he was drinking.
He coughed multiple times before recovering enough to put the paper cup down on the side table in Andrews’s room. He gaped at him, blinking rapidly.
It had been an unproductive afternoon, their first meeting as Master and disciple. Instead of quizzing Richard about the content he was reading, Andrews seemed determined to talk about Richard’s self-esteem issues, which he denied having. Richard was relieved when he’d suggested taking a break and having light conversation and coffee. It was the last thing he expected to hear.
“What are you talking about, Carl? I’m not drooling over Joy! Where on Earth did you get that from?”
Carl snickered. There was amusement in his eyes and a mocking tone in his voice. “Let’s see, you’re ‘hugging her and then walking on clouds the whole day with pieces of her soul stuck in yours, remembering her smell.’ If that’s not drooling for someone, I don’t know what is.”
Richard stuttered. Carl said, “And, please, don’t insult my intelligence by saying that you love her like a sister. When you talk about her, I can see the spark in your eyes.”
Coughing again, Richard refuted, “You must be hallucinating. That woman’s far from being my type.”
Silence fell. Narrowing his eyes, Carl gave him a piercing look. “Okay, so tell me, Richard. What’s your type of woman? Are you dating somebody right now?”
Richard raised his hands, palms up, indicating that the answer was obvious. “Of course I am! I’m dating . . .” The name escaped his mind for a moment. “Hailey! I’m dating Hailey. We’ve been together for almost a year. She’s everything I need in a woman—beautiful, a party animal, and an insatiable lover.”
Grinning, Carl punched him playfully on the arm. Richard started relaxing. “Lucky you, man. That’s a keeper! If I were you, I’d hurry up and marry her before another man swipes her away!”
Richard gasped. “Are you crazy? That’s exactly what I like about Hailey. There’s absolutely no plan for marriage. In fact, it’s an open relationship.”
Tilting his head, Carl raised his eyebrows. “Open as in . . . you’re not faithful to each other?”
“It’s a ‘don’t-ask-don’t-tell’ situation. She suggested it herself. She’s not the kind of woman who can settle down. She has a bit of a sex addiction problem. She’s seen a shrink for that on and off for years—and also for her drinking issues.”
Carl nodded. “And you say that’s exactly what you need at this time in your life. Great for you.”
“It is. Things with Kate, the last serious girlfriend I had years before Hailey, had become too complicated. I needed a break from exclusive relationships.”
“Yes, I remember you mentioning Kate a couple times,” said Carl, smiling. “Let me tell you exactly what you said.”
Taking a spiral bound notebook from his nightstand, Carl read some handwritten notes. “‘Kate is on permanent disability for back pain, and she’s only thirty-five. She’s on so many sedatives and antidepressants that I don’t want her driving. Life with her was a never-ending drama of health crises and mood swings.’”
Richard was taken aback. It was amazing what Carl had been able to reconstruct by tying up pieces of casual conversation. He felt a need to defend Kate.
“Kate’s a great woman. She just had a rough childhood.”
Carl chuckled. “Sure, not like the mother of your son, right?”
Turning the page, Carl read a few more of his notes. “‘A hypochondriac drama queen hooked on pain killers and Valium. Leaving her was the best decision I ever made.’”
Richard smiled. Those were definitely his own words about his ex, Sandy, on a day he was trying to be polite. “Carl, you should be the one working for the FBI.”
Closing the notebook, Carl widened his smile. “I definitely understand, now, what your type of woman is.”
Richard looked at him, frowning. “What are you talking about?”
“Since we’ve established that I’m off duty as a Master, allow me to make a judgment here and point you to a pattern.”
Grabbing his own chin, Carl squinted. He spoke slowly. “If I’m getting this right, you’re repeatedly attracted to women who act in dramatic ways, engage in addictive behaviors, and make self-destructive life choices.”
Richard wanted to deny it, but the words appeared stuck in his throat. He had to admit that the description fit the three women quite well. He searched in his memory. Any woman who’d been with him long enough to leave an impression also fit that definition.
“From your silence, I deduce that I’m not far away from the truth.”
Richard shook his head. “What’s your point?”
“Stay with me for a minute. Now you tell me what it is that attracts you about a woman who’s making self-destructive life choices and has addiction problems.”
Richard thought for a moment. “In spite of
their issues, they’re great women. They’ve faced tragedies and terrible abuse in their lives. I do admire their strength to keep going.”
Nodding, Carl asked, “What would happen if they were that wonderful but had no terrible past to trigger their addictions and self-destructive behavior? What would happen if they were psychologically stable, self-sufficient women?”
Richard considered it. “They wouldn’t need me.”
Andrews paused, letting him assimilate what he’d said. “So, you need to be their rescuer, their knight in shining armor, to be able to feel that you deserve their love?”
A short silence fell. “Maybe.”
Richard was in shock. Carl gave him some more time before speaking again.
“Now, I want to ask you the original question again. This Joy . . . why do you think there’s no chemistry between you two? Is she unattractive to you physically?”
Richard chuckled. “Not at all. She’s very attractive. Some days it’s difficult to get my eyes off her and concentrate on what I’m doing.”
“Is it that she lacks personality?”
He shook his head. “She has tons of personality and a great sense of humor. But, honestly, it has never crossed my mind that there was any remote possibility she could be the woman for me.”
Rotating his wrist forward, Carl made an encouraging gesture. “And that’s because . . .”
Richard was quiet for a moment. He thought the obvious answer would be because my job is spying on her, but that wasn’t the answer that was coming to him. “Because she . . .”
“Yes?”
“Because she’s so out of my league.”
Raising one eyebrow, Andrews eyed him from head to toe. “Really? Explain that to me.”
Richard took a deep breath. He’d never given any thought to it and was trying to understand it as he explained it. “She has a bunch of degrees, a big professional reputation, comes from a richer family . . .”
“Okay.”
“She’s one of the smartest people I’ve met in my life. She’s incredibly kind, incredibly loving . . .”
Carl nodded; there was deep interest in his eyes. “I don’t understand how all that can be a point against her. Aren’t you accomplished enough for her, handsome enough, intelligent enough?”
“I want to say yes, but . . .”
“But there’s a voice in your head saying you’re not.”
Richard reflected for a moment. “You’re right.”
Carl allowed the thought to sink in. He then asked, “Can you track it down? What’s that voice telling you? Who’s speaking to you?”
There was a long pause before Richard answered. “It’s my grandma. She’s saying that we are white trash and we’re never going to get anything good.”
Andrews remained still. Richard was astonished, digesting his own words.
“You’re saying, in summary, that you’re ‘not good enough’ to attract a woman who’s loving and kind, intelligent and highly educated.”
Richard slowly realized that the whole conversation had been a set-up to make him acknowledge his self-esteem was not as good as he bragged it was. “I guess so.”
“And you need to get involved with women whose lives are a mess to be able to feel that you’ve contributed something to their lives—that you have rescued them, earning your right to be loved.”
“I guess so.”
“Why not think you’re worthy of love without doing anything, by being yourself, by existing?”
Richard looked at him as if he was crazy. “That’s not possible. You earn love with what you do.”
They fell silent.
“Okay, Richard, what’s your son’s name again?”
“Ray.”
“Do you remember having Ray in your arms when he was a small baby? When he wasn’t able to smile back at you yet. Do you remember looking at him and feeling your heart was about to explode out of love?”
Richard had the image still clear in his mind. “Yes, I do.”
Carl spoke slowly. “You were once a baby like that, intrinsically lovable, impossible not to love. What changed, Richard? In what moment of your life did you become, or believed you became, less than worthy of the most wonderful, unconditional love?”
Richard didn’t answer. Andrews said, “Go and find out. When you do, and only then, come back, and we’ll be ready for the next step.”
Richard got up from his chair and left.
Chapter 19
Richard lay on something exquisitely soft and comfortable. It was the recliner in Joy’s office. On top of him lay something even softer and more exquisite. It was Joy.
They were kissing passionately. He was drunk with her smell. Running her hands inside his shirt, she caressed his chest. He stroked her back under her top with one hand while running the other one down her thighs under her skirt. He was in heaven.
Suddenly, she got up from the recliner, leaving him alone there, burning with desire, his breathing agitated. Wiping her mouth, she straightened her clothes and said, “I’m sorry, Richard, but if you ever tasted me, you wouldn’t want to have another woman for the rest of your life.”
He woke up abruptly, gasping, carrying in his body the same sexual frustration he’d felt in his dream. The space beside him in the bed was empty. Slowly, the memories from the night before returned.
After he left Carl’s room, his mind was in turmoil. He’d left Joy a message saying that something had come up and he wouldn’t be returning for the two days left. After that, trying to prove to himself that Carl made no sense, he’d gone out with Hailey, only to end up in a fight when he tried to put a limit to the drinking they could afford on a work night. She asked him to drop her at a club, and he drove home alone. She didn’t come back to his place, and he’d felt relieved. Out of the blue, he’d lost his taste for her.
Still dwelling on the memories from his dream, he went in the shower.
He was finishing getting ready when he noticed two messages on his burner cell. The first one was from Joy.
Sorry you had to leave so suddenly. I hope you can still join us at our patients’ party tonight. My staff was looking forward to seeing you there to say goodbye.
Pushing away a sudden longing for seeing her, he read the second message. It was from Carl.
I’m leaving the Masden Center. My lawyer convinced your people that I’ve been cooperative enough to let me continue my domiciliary arrest at home. You have my number and my address. But after the homework I gave you yesterday, I don’t expect you to be ready to be back for months.
Groaning in frustration, Richard walked to his office and sat at his desk. He pulled Carl’s manuscript from the drawer.
He could imagine Carl’s voice as he read, “Any voice inside you that doesn’t speak about the highest love and value for yourself is not the voice of the Divinity in you. Whenever you hear that voice putting you down or telling you what you can or cannot achieve, track it down to your past. It’s someone else’s voice and needs to be replaced by a new message.
“Until you learn to listen to your real voice, you’ll continue to sleepwalk through life, denying yourself your deepest wishes. Why would someone want to live like that?”
* * *
That evening, Richard returned to the Hospice House and went straight to the party room on the top floor. He wasn’t sure what to expect, since it was hard to imagine that anyone in hospice could be in the mood for celebrating anything. As he exited the elevator, he could hear 1930s music playing.
When he entered the room, he was surprised; the party was quite animated. Elderly patients sat together in small groups, some of them in wheelchairs, chatting and sipping on drinks while others danced.
As he wandered around the room looking for Joy, he found Nana, sitting with a group of other cheerful elderly women. He accepted her welcoming hug and kept walking.
He finally spotted Joy in the dance area with a shrunken man who must have been a hundred years old. The grinning old
man was deftly guiding Joy through a series of complicated tango steps. She was beaming and laughed each time he surprised her with a new move.
Smiling, Richard watched them from a distance as Joy moved gracefully, following her partner’s lead. He was impressed. Soon, the music was over, and the man hugged Joy with tears in his eyes. She hugged him back.
As Richard walked in her direction, the music changed to the contagious rhythm of Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie.” The younger crowd in the room, the staff and volunteers, ran to the dance area.
Joy had joined a circle and danced with three young women from the staff. She seemed to be truly enjoying the music.
His jaw dropped. A minute before, she’d been the image of properness, with her white button-down shirt tucked into her navy knee-length pencil skirt. Now she was pure sensuality, swinging her hips and twirling around with a grace that was still classy, yet appropriate for an exotic dancer.
Enthralled and speechless, he watched her dance until the song was over. The four women waved a goodbye, and Joy walked in the direction of the refreshment table. He hurried to join her.
“Hello, Dr. Clayton. I see you’re having a good time. May I?” He rushed to serve her a drink from the punch bowl.
“Thank you.” With her eyes closed, she took a long sip. “I needed that.”
His dream of the two of them together on the recliner took over his mind. He pushed it away. “I can imagine you do, after all that dancing.”
She smiled. “I know I’m making a fool of myself, but I don’t mind. I’d do whatever it takes to cheer up my patients.”
He could hardly pay attention to her words. His eyes were glued to her sensual mouth. He’d always thought her lips looked beautiful, but now all he could think about was how they would feel and taste.
He forced himself to focus. “Making a fool of yourself? Are you kidding? You’re really good! You could pass for—”
Beyond Physical Page 14