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Compulsive (Liar #1)

Page 10

by Lia Fairchild


  “Gray!” I heard my name, but it hadn’t pulled me away. “Hey…let’s go!” Becca touched my arm. I blinked out of the figment to find her sitting in the passenger seat with a gravy boat on a tray balanced in her lap.

  * * *

  With an Asian salad from a nearby deli in hand, I entered my hollow apartment, planning to eat and work the rest of the night. The thrilling life and times of a single head case. A light blue flyer lay at my feet as I stepped inside, and I crouched to retrieve it. The fundraiser Alyssa had mentioned would be a neighborhood garage sale. I grinned at the thought of her wanting to help her new friend, but the thought was quickly replaced with the possibility of seeing Daniel there.

  I stopped at the island and glared at my stainless steel refrigerator. It was going to be one of those nights. I could feel it. Fucking rules. Not a drop of alcohol found in the place, and my nerves were beyond agitated.

  I set my things down onto the counter and readied my phone to call Nathan. As many years as we’d been out of AA, we were still each other’s unofficial sponsor with our own set of rules. Rule number one: no alcohol in the home. It was one thing to kill the pain in public, planting yourself in the middle of a festive environment. Drinking alone in seclusion for the sole purpose of drowning your sorrows was pathetic and habit forming. Okay, so I hadn’t totally adhered to that one, but tonight Old Mother Hubbard didn’t have Jack Squat to cheat with. Rule number two: when one felt pathetic or lonely or one of the other multitudes of emotions we the tormented feel, pick up the phone. Over the years, ending up in bed together gradually morphed into cuddling on the couch, which morphed into talking on the phone. Still, there were those occasions when we had a drink together, or we were both horny as hell. One signal led to another, and I was palming his sweat-slicked ass as he balanced atop rippled arms and pumped into me until we both screamed in exquisite relief. There was no denying we had that part of our relationship perfected, and the hangover the next day was much less painful.

  Nathan’s line went right to voice mail. I went straight to the couch without leaving a message. The thought crossed my mind that it was no longer fair for me to count on him.

  I booted up my laptop before digging into my dinner for one. When I had finally emailed the information Daniel needed, I hinted that I might have something else for him. Could I really offer that up on a silver platter and risk how he might look at me?

  Ignoring my email, I clicked over to the folder instinctively. Huge chunks of time were missing. I wasn’t always consistent. But, this file represented a snapshot of my life, my indiscretions, my inner most thoughts for the last ten years.

  I scrolled down until I reached an entry that caught my eye, one of the first things I’d written.

  I can’t believe I finally have my driver’s license. Dad made it almost impossible for me to do this, and I think he did it on purpose. The first time I was scheduled for the driving test, he never showed up to take me. I ended up going to pick him up, passed out at some woman’s house. Yes, that’s right. I drove, without my license, to pick up my dad, causing me to miss getting my actual driver’s license! The second time he was still drunk when I drove us to the DMV. The instructor asked if he was okay. I told him my dad had cerebral palsy and read him the “disabilities” riot act.

  And how do I get to celebrate my newfound freedom? I get to drive to my Aunt Becca’s house to take care of her dumb ass cat, so she and her twin sister can go on their twin vacation with their loser husbands. God, I hate that Harvey. He’s such a slime and looks like he’s straight out of a seventies porn. Do I sound negative? I promise you I wasn’t always this much of a downer.

  Tomorrow is Noah’s birthday. I’m sure Dad probably has no clue, and I’m not going to fucking tell him. A while back, I told him I wanted to have a special dinner and asked if he could arrange it. If he forgets, I’ll know he doesn’t give a shit about Noah or Mom. I’ll know he doesn’t give a shit about me either. And then, neither will I.

  CHAPTER 14

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  After six sessions with Daniel, I still hadn’t lost my obsession with that damn notepad, not to mention the man himself. I’d attempted to get a peek of it at the end of our last session by stalling my exit. I’d asked for a moment because our conversation had turned heated, ending with me taking the fifth. My defense mechanisms had come out. I grew angry with him for prying me open and forcing me to face and examine the black hole in my heart. The very thing I had hoped to avoid by sending him excerpts from my journal. Daniel had claimed that while he appreciated the history lesson it would be of no use unless I talked about how I felt about what I wrote then and how I feel about it now. We’d been discussing an entry I sent him about my father and moving out of the house before I even graduated high school. He’d asked about my relationship with my father and why the tone of entry was so aggravated. That had been enough to shut me up even with fifteen minutes still left in our session. Unfortunately, Daniel had tucked his treasured notepad and little stack of files right into his briefcase before I could make any attempts at inspecting it.

  “Gray?”

  My blurred vision pulled into focus at hearing my name. “Yes.”

  “Yes, you want to continue our discussion from last week about your father, or yes, you heard my question?” His black glasses mounted securely in place, and his pressed dark gray suit gave him a sexy Wall Street look. So unfair.

  “No…I mean, yes.” I drew my gaze from him and took it over to the window. Outside the clouds, dirty and hovering, provided a thick blanket for the city below. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear the question,” I admitted.

  “Are you feeling…distracted by something today?”

  I turned to him and folded my arms. “Actually, yes.”

  “You’re welcome to bring up any subject you like here.”

  Oh, I had a few things I wanted to bring up. “Really?”

  “Please, tell me what you’re thinking.” His soothing tone sounded as if he should be next to me with his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his chest. Could I tell him there was another form of therapy I wanted from him? I wondered how many times some needy woman fantasized about him melting away her troubles…and then her panties.

  Instead of focusing on my longing to have Daniel inspecting something other than my brain, I decided to concentrate on what had been gnawing on me like an annoying flea. “Why don’t you record our conversations if you’re writing down everything I say?”

  A slow grin rose up on one side of his mouth. “I’m not writing down everything you say.”

  I rubbed my temple in frustration, though his playful response chipped away at my wall.

  “Think of this as merely a… snapshot if you will. It helps me get a clearer picture of you.” The amusement in his eyes calmed my agitation, but instilled some suspicion. He must have noticed something, because he continued. “Can you tell me why it bothers you so much?”

  “No.” He didn’t make it easier to decipher my already confused feelings.

  “You can’t tell me, or you won’t?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I feel like you’re making judgments about me on that paper.”

  “I think judgment is an incorrect evaluation no matter what I’m doing. I’d never make a judgment about you. Possibly an observation, a speculation.”

  “Okay, maybe I don’t like you speculating about me.” Why was my tone so whiny?

  “Isn’t that why we’re here, Gray?” My agitation completely disarmed, then hearing my name spoken from his lips in that persuasive tone. Each time I heard it, the sound became more familiar. Not many men have said my name to me, since they often didn’t know it. So, hearing it roll off Daniel’s tongue in his attempt to get through to me fueled my attraction and made me feel more connected to him. Obviously, I was under no false assumption about any kind of relationship happening now or after. Even those times when I recognized that look in his eyes before he snatched it away, repla
cing it with his professional gander. Even then I knew it was unrealistic at best. “I’d like you to think of us as a team,” he went on. “We’re both here for the same purpose.” He removed his glasses, crossed one leg over his knee, and leaned over it. “You have some things to work out, and I’m helping you do that. Passing judgment on you is the furthest thing from my mind. I can assure you of that.”

  Instinctively, I shook my head while my eyes rolled to the top of my head. How I wished those words were true and not some doctor-speak crap.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  I shrugged. “I’m still speculating on that one.”

  He laughed too genuine to be solely role-play, and my heart warmed. “Which part of that is hard for you to believe?” he asked.

  “Okay, it’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s that I understand why you’re doing it. It’s your job.”

  “Oh, I see. I’m helping you for the money?” For the first time, the irritated tone came from Daniel and not me. I liked getting an emotional response, even as minor as it was.

  “Well, it is your job, and I’m sure you make a decent living at it. I’m not saying it’s wrong.”

  He paused, then with a head nod said, “Okay.” That one word carried so much weight. He was giving in, making it clear my assumptions had no merit.

  “Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “I won’t take your assessment personally. Mostly because you don’t know me well enough.” His eyes challenged me. The confidence in his tone and expression sent a thrill through me. Even if I were to regret my next words, I couldn’t stop them from coming.

  “I’d like to change that, Daniel.”

  I kept his gaze for another instant, before he pulled it away. A flash of concern lit his face. Even before that, just as my words were spoken, I saw something in his eyes. His will had not discouraged me. That tiny instant revealed a side of Daniel I longed to discover. And I was more determined than ever to get him to show me.

  “You certainly are proficient in the art of changing the subject,” he finally said, composed.

  “I believe you’ve done a damn good job of it yourself.”

  He chuckled. “Touché.” He turned his head to the side, unable to hold back his smile, a gesture I hadn’t seen him do in a while.

  I almost felt guilty, but this really wasn’t a game to me. “I’m sorry.” My words must have been unexpected because he turned, straight-faced. “This whole thing started because I thought you were making judgments about me, and then I go and do the same thing to you. That was unfair.”

  “I appreciate you saying that. Now, let’s try to get back on track for the last few minutes we have.”

  Disappointment flooded me. I’d hoped to learn more about Daniel the man, and I dreaded returning to the subject we left.

  “Our deal stands,” he said, catching my reaction. “If you’re not ready to discuss your father…”

  “No, it’s okay. Yes, there’s obviously a lot of anger still here.” Saying those words weighed heavy at the pit of my stomach. I turned to my escape window, now only an allusion in darkness. The display had morphed into a murky gray sky, the glass clearly reflecting Daniel watching and waiting for my response.

  “Gray, are you sure you want to talk about this now?”

  I nodded. “In a way, I don’t blame my father for everything that happened.” My heart raced as I spoke. “I guess I was too young to remember how he acted before my mother died, but I don’t think she would have picked a loser. When life kicks the shit out of you, you’re bound to change.” I heard Daniel put down his pencil, and I turned back to him, his warm eyes showing me I could trust him to open up. “I remember wanting so badly for him to look at me. Talk to me.” My voice started to shake. I swallowed and then took a deep breath.

  “That must have been extremely difficult for you to cope. You were so young.”

  “At times, it was extremely difficult. I was around seven when she died…It’s not like he ignored me, though. At first, there was a lot of talk about Noah and making sure his needs were met when Grandma wasn’t around to help us. But it felt more like he was merely a vessel. Vacant, you know? The crazy part was that even at a young age I felt bad for him. I understood. Then, as I got older, I really started to notice the neglect. When he’d drink too much, we’d get in these huge fights.”

  “In a sense you were in the wrong roles. You as the parent and he as the child?”

  “Exactly.”

  “It’s not uncommon. We all deal with loss in different ways…to different degrees.”

  My lips pulled into a straight line.

  “I’m not defending him,” he said.

  The rational side of me believed that, but too many times people in my life had defended him. Becca, Evyn, sometimes even Nathan saw his side. “I know. I just kept hoping with each year that things would get better.”

  “And that never happened?”

  “No. They actually got worse because…” I glanced to the clock. A few minutes of our session remained.

  “Don’t worry about the time. Please…continue.”

  I breathed through a thought, wondering if I was ready to relive it right there with Daniel. I wasn’t. “I’m not a perfect person,” I said suddenly. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I’m not trying to blame everything on him.”

  “What do you blame on him?”

  I shook my head, staring straight ahead. My chest tightened. The back of my eyes burned. I once felt a love so deep it led me past the darkness of losing my mother. Why? Why did I deserve this?

  “Are you all right?”

  “Gray?”

  Breathe… My mind slowly closed over the memory and began to work in its normal protective fashion. I scrambled for a way out. “You have anything to drink here?”

  “Water.”

  “That’s a little lighter than I had in mind.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you blame your drinking on your father? On his drinking?”

  “No, actually. I don’t. I hated how useless he was when he drank himself into a stupor. But, at least there were times when he’d had a few, right before too many, where he’d been almost a father. We’d had some laughs. He’d talk to me. What I’ve done has nothing to do with him and his drinking.”

  “Yet, at some point in your life, you turned to alcohol to cope?”

  I nodded, feeling no shame for my decisions. “When I was a senior in high school, I started having these visions…images of the exact same nature. I tried to ignore them at first, blow it off as nothing. I never had anyone to talk to, so I majored in ignoring problems. But, they continued to haunt me. It became so painful…so confusing each time it happened. One day it happened in school, and I just took off. At home, I pulled out my father’s whiskey and drank straight from the bottle, hot liquid burning down my throat.” I chuckled at my naivety. “Over time, I learned that with the help of booze, and later, a few recreational drugs, the visions faded away. Even being with someone seemed to help them disappear. The pain lessoned. That’s all I wanted. To feel nothing. But lately, it’s been happening more.” I hadn’t looked at Daniel once while speaking, and after a time he still hadn’t said anything. What I found when I regarded him was a set of compassionate blue eyes. His expression, gentle and kind, took me by surprise. This was the man, not the doctor. In that moment, I felt I could tell him anything. Expose myself to him, rid myself of these demons in a healthy way. When he didn’t speak, I said, “I’m sorry. I see I’ve taken up extra time.”

  He shook his head, his expression almost pained. “No...it’s fine.” Then, my therapist returned, a drawn breath bringing him back into focus. “Would you like to talk about the visions?”

  I stood on wobbly legs, drained of their strength. My will depleted with the realization that I would need Daniel if I were going to let myself heal and not Dr. Harrison. “Not today, Daniel.”

&nb
sp; CHAPTER 15

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  I pulled on a pair of light gray yoga pants and a black long-sleeved T-shirt, ready to focus on someone else besides myself. My angst-ridden story was getting old. A day helping Alyssa and Jessie with this fund-raiser was exactly what I needed. The thought of possibly seeing Daniel in a setting other than his office had nothing to do with springing from my bed full of energy at five AM.

  The thick fog threatened early morning drizzle, but nothing would deter my positive outlook. I zigzagged past scattered boxes of useless crap I’d collected from some of my neighbors. I hoped the saying was true, and that someone would see this junk as treasures.

  Alyssa let herself in as I poured some juice. “Hey, kiddo. Ready to make some money?”

  She approached the counter, leaning over on her elbows. “I guess.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Rita called me last night.” She stared at her fingers, spinning the rings on one hand. “She wanted to prepare me.”

  I stopped mid-sip and set my drink down.

  “Jessica hasn’t been doing well. She caught an infection and has been in the freaking hospital for two days.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” When was this poor kid going to catch a break and have an easy relationship? I reached over and squeezed her forearm. “What about today?”

  “It’s still on. They brought her home last night, but the doctor said she shouldn’t go outside.”

  “Hey, at least she’s home.” I leaned down toward her face, smiling.

  “Yeah. I just pictured her staring out the window like the freaking bubble boy or something.”

  I stopped the chuckle before it came out. “She’s going to be okay then. That’s great news.”

 

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