by Kailin Gow
The play finally came to an end and I was so relieved to have that curtain lower and not see the source of my mental torture for the past hour and a half. I looked down at the dozen white roses that were underneath my seat and had no desire to go give them to Lina now that I understood how she’d felt. Did she give me these tickets to deliver me a message? Well, I’d received it loud and clear. The last thing I wanted to do was be near her because behind those seductive and playful hazel eyes was a woman who didn’t think very much of me. In fact, she probably hated me or at least the type of man she thought I was…a player, a male whore, a man full of himself and though he was God’s gift to women.
She didn’t know about Phoebe or how I had avoided getting close to any women because of what happened to Phoebe. Now thanks to this nonsense of a play, she would never know.
“Are you ready to go?” I asked my mom after the second round of standing ovations had taken place.
“Back stage?”
“No, home.”
“Whatever are you talking about, Simon? We have to go say hello to Lina and give her the roses.” My mom looked at me and her scrutinizing face took over the one that had been merrily laughing just a few moments before. “Oh, I get it. Her play insulted your ego, didn’t it? I’m sure it didn’t mean anything. It was purely coincidental. Why would she do that to you? And, why would you care? You don’t even know her very well, after all.”
“I’m just tired. Don’t over analyze this, mother.” Internally, I hoped that my mother was right and I was making too much of it. I was being the ugliest of the D words in my book—dramatic. My thoughts were dark and dismal, brooding and self-absorbed. Another D word hit me hard! DEVASTATION.
I couldn’t believe the woman who’d wounded me was the one I’d been dreaming of pursuing.
There was no getting out of going to see Lina and say hello. I’d stand back politely and let my mother do the talking after I made the introduction. She was masterful at that.
“Lina, congratulations,” I said. I smiled the way I always can even when my heart and mind are not in the moment.
“Thank you, Simon.”
I handed her the flowers and then turned to my mother, formally introduced her, and let her go off to the races while my mind raced with negative thoughts about what I’d just endured. Is that the type of man people really saw me as?
“Simon, dear, where are you?” My mother tapped my arm and I came back to reality.
“Sorry, just a bit tired, I suppose.”
“Aren’t you going to answer Lina’s question, dear?”
“Could you please repeat it?” I asked.
“I was just wondering what you thought about the play, being in that profession and all,” Lina said.
“It was an interesting twist on it, to say the least. The audience seemed to be very entertained.”
“And you?” she pressed on.
“I found it to be rather fascinating,” I said. I wasn’t going to say anymore. If I would have done what I wanted to I would have dragged her over to the corner of the theater and started to question her about what she really thought of me and why she’d bother to come to me for advice if she clearly had so little regard for me. AND I was now onto her and the game she was playing.
Finally, the night was over and I was able to go home. I’d never been so excited for an evening to end. So much frustration was pent up in me and it wasn’t the kind that could be relieved with a sexual release. I was angry and annoyed. Surrendering to any idea of a peaceful night’s sleep, I went over to the treadmill and started to run. I wasn’t sure if I was running off the stress or running away from my thoughts. Both were appealing ideas, yet both still left me feeling as though there was a hole in my heart, that I didn’t really know women, or people, or myself at all. My world as I knew it began to unravel quickly after that.
Chapter 7
However, I was not one to get into a slump for long. With a renewed sense of commitment, I got into the full swing of staying so busy that I wouldn’t have time to think about Lina, much less lament about that damn play. Of course, all the reviews were in and they were fabulous. Some reporters even had the gall to call me and see what I thought of it, to which I gave some fluffed up answer that didn’t really say anything at all. I couldn’t stand it. There was one thing that I was grateful for. Lina hadn’t tried to call me at all and I hadn’t happened to run into her, either. It was a relief and it affirmed what I’d suspected, she wanted to get counseling to gain material for her play. It was not coincidence she was persistent in trying to get an appointment with me. It had a motive.
Eager to get Lina out of my thoughts, I occupied myself in my most needy clients, finding ways to help them both sexually and through conversation. I suddenly felt like I had something to prove. I was a legitimate therapist and the services I offered clients did help them. And yes, although I’d never say it aloud, I knew that I had a certain dependency on sex, too. That was the beauty of my environment. Everybody got what they needed and it all worked out. Until her…
I was having a hard time accepting the advice I’d given clients in the past. In particular, the bit about how a woman should want to be with a man who wants to be better because of her. I wanted to be better for Lina, but it appeared that the damage was done. Did my reputation precede me? She had no way of knowing what happened behind the closed doors of my office...or did she?
“Brandi,” I called out through the speaker on my phone at the office.
“Yes.”
“You haven’t by chance given away any information to Lina Lee, have you?”
There was no answer and I knew she was coming into my office to answer this directly. “You’re kidding, right?” She said it calmly, but I could see she was trying to control your emotions.
“I just wanted to make sure,” I said. Maybe I didn’t know women as well as I thought. The way I’d handled this was a complete amateur move.
“You’ve got to forget about that play and get over yourself, Simon. I don’t know why this woman’s gotten into your head, but you need to pull yourself together and stop looking to others to blame for what you’re going through.”
I sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted. Now, I have to get back to work.”
She smiled at me and walked out, leaving me alone. What was I doing? It was maddening.
Then my speaker went off and Brandi was talking. “Talk about timing, I have Lina on the line for you.”
“Tell her I’m busy.”
“She said it was an emergency. She sounds panicked.”
“Put it through,” I conceded. I didn’t want anything to be wrong with her even if I wanted to avoid her.
The click that came with the transfer sounded on the speaker and I picked up the telephone receiver, wanting whatever it was she had to say to remain private.
“Lina, what is it?”
“Thank goodness I caught you, Simon. I really need your help. My friend Julia tried to commit suicide this morning, all over some guy she’d only been dating for three months.”
“What is it that you think I can do?” I asked.
“Maybe you can talk to her, make her feel better. She’s so timid and mousy, the guy was everything for her. I feel horrible for her and she’s so mixed up. Some advice from you might just do the trick.”
“Maybe she needs a behavioral therapist more than a sex therapist,” I offered. I really did say this for the best interests of Julia, not to avoid seeing Lina.
“She has gone to one for years and it’s always the same old, same old. Simon, I just feel like you can help her. Please!”
“Okay, I’ll be right there. What hospital?”
“The Swedish on 9th Avenue.”
I looked at the clock and knew that I’d be hitting rush hour traffic. “I’ll get there as soon as I can, might be an hour.”
“Thank you so much!” Lina hung up and I stared at my phone for a brief second be
fore placing it in the receiver. Maybe she did want to see me and I’d misconstrued everything. Otherwise there would be no reason to call me in this situation. I had no familiarity with this Julia. I suddenly felt a bit better and saw something positive coming out of one young woman’s tragedy.
*****
After braving traffic and canceling all my other appointments and evening plans, I finally arrived at the hospital.
“Hi Julia, I’m Dr. Sessions. Do you have a minute?” I asked.
She turned and looked at me with such sunken, dark blue eyes, she looked so frail. Her black hair stuck to her pale, slender face and she appeared to be half zombie. It was a combination of medication and depression; I could tell immediately.
“Hey,” she said. Then she turned away and her right hand went up to her hair to tidy it.
“You look fine, don’t worry. How are you feeling, though?” She looked at me and I saw her eyes glass over within seconds, struggling to deal with the pain that was inside of her. “It’s okay to cry if it makes you feel better.”
“I’m so sick of crying; it never makes me feel better for long.”
“What’s long?”
“I’ll maybe have a good day or two and things are going great; then there’s a fight or I don’t see them and I slip right back into sadness. It always sucks me in.”
Her words didn’t make sense to me for a moment and I pondered them, suddenly realizing that she was talking about her relationships with men. “Are you saying that you base your entire identity on men?”
“Having a guy by my side makes me feel complete, without it…” Her words trailed off.
I felt so bad for this woman and it wasn’t often that I saw somebody that was so frail; none of my clients were suicidal, really, just in need of validation or a bit of wisdom to guide them along the way. “You can feel complete and should feel complete with or without a relationship. However, if you’re focused on relationships, I can tell you this, Julia. You can feel complete with the right relationship. It seems that you may be picking the same guy—just in a different package. That’s what you’ve got to work on.”
I watched her evaluate my words and a small spark entered her sunken eyes, reassuring me that she did want to live and that she understood that she may have a purpose in this world if she tried to figure it out. It made me feel better because this type of thing was not my specialty. Helping others felt good, and it was something that I seldom did without receiving money for it professionally or just donating money personally. Investing my time to be of help was a rare occurrence. Dammit, Lina was wrong about me and how I treat my patients. At least none of them ever get suicidal like this. I try to make my patients feel good about themselves in any way that I can. If Lina can’t see the compassion I have for women, then she had stereotyped me in the worse way.
“Do you really believe that?” Julia asked. “When you look at me you see that I can have happiness, be complete with the right man?”
“It starts with you and once you figure that out, any guy would be fortunate to have you and consider you an equal, if not better.”
“Thanks.” She smiled at me softly, as if it hurt to attempt it, but at least she was trying.
“You’ll be in here for a few days on suicide watch. During that time, you’ll have lots of opportunities to talk to people who are going to try and help you or lead you to some services that can help you get back on track. I encourage you to be forthright, honest, and take advantage of it. It’s critical.”
“Yeah, right! These people don’t really care. They do what the law requires and then once I’m gone, I’m forgotten.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” I said, squeezing Julia’s hand. “You look like you need some rest so I’m going to get going. You take care of yourself, alright?”
“Alright,” she said. She yawned, but she seemed better. It was nice to know that my conversation may have helped and I was definitely going to make sure she wasn’t forgotten. I wouldn’t say I pitied her, but I did just a bit. It must be a tragic feeling to think that no one really cares.
I walked out of the room and pulled out my iPhone, paging through the contacts. Yes, there it was. I found the number for Dr. Vincent Mancini, who was the head of psychiatric care here at the hospital. I’d met him a few times at fundraisers and he’d always wanted me to coordinate with him to talk to some of the people with sexual based emotional problems. I’d always put it off, but it seemed like a good call to make so Julia, the poor kid, could get help.
“Hey, Vincent, this is Simon Sessions. How are you?”
“Great,” an enthusiastic voice said. “I’m surprised to hear from you. Change your mind on my offer?”
“No, but I have just spoken with a young lady who really needs some help badly. She’s going to be with you for the next few days.”
“Suicide attempt?”
“You got it,” I said.
He agreed to make sure she got the best care possible both while she was at the hospital and after—if she agreed to take it. You couldn’t force somebody who was hurting to get help. Sometimes they were actually addicted to feeling lousy; not liking it, but not comfortable stepping out of it. It becomes familiar.
Doing my good deed for the day, I started to walk out of the hospital.
“Simon,” I heard a voice call from behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to identify its source.
“Hi Lina,” I said, diving back into the tumultuous thoughts she’d placed in my mind, invading my emotions like she was an Arthurian seductress.
“I just spoke with Julia. Thanks so much. She’d doing better.”
“That’s good to hear. Hopefully she’ll be okay,” I said, not stopping walking. Actually, it would have been nice to break out in a run in the opposite direction.
“I didn’t mean to, but I also overheard your phone call. That was really nice,” Lina said to me.
“You sound surprised,” I commented.
“Well, I kind of am.”
“Then why did you call me to come visit her?”
“I knew she would listen to you. She’s had a celeb crush on you for a long time. She thinks your words are golden and that you look like a god.”
“What?” I asked, feeling an unexpected surge of anger rise in me. “Do you understand how detrimental that could be to her in the end?”
“Yes, kind of, I think,” Lina said. “I’m sorry. I was desperate to help and didn’t know what else to do. I meant it as a compliment.”
“Having a crush on me doesn’t help, especially when she would transfer her feelings to me.”
“I bet a lot of your clients have crushes on you, yet you still treat them,” Lina said.
“But none of them have predispositions to suicide. None of them are really as psychologically damaged as Julia when it comes to men. I work on sexual performances and expression, not suicidal patients.”
“She raves about you, and I thought a word from you can help restore her self-esteem.”
“What? What does that mean?” I asked.
“Well, she’s seen therapists for a long time and they can never help. I don’t really think they are effective, no offense.”
“It’s nice to know what you think of my profession. Of course, watching your play gave me a fairly good idea, too.”
Lina wasn’t smiling. She was looking at me and I could see that she felt bad, but I wasn’t about to let her off the hook. Just because I wanted to explore her, both body and mind, didn’t mean I was going to put up with what she’d done. It was manipulative and it was wrong.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t really think things through,” she said softly.
“No, you didn’t,” I said bluntly. “Well, I’ve got to go.”
I walked out and I was on fire with anger. I understood Lina’s good intentions, but she’d put me into a situation that was definitely going to require some clean-up. If it didn’t, I’d be shocked. In fact, I was so convinced that I�
�d see Julia again that I was willing to bet a week without sex on it. Everything from my professional and personal experiences told me that I’d be seeing Julia again, and that she’d be expecting more from me. She’d think I was the one who could be the one to make her complete. It wasn’t out of vanity that I thought this. If I would have even suspected she had this celebrity crush, I would have handled our conversation much differently.
Chapter 8
Three days later, I wasn’t surprise for Brandi to announce that Julia was out in the lobby, wanting to give me a gift of thanks and talk to me for a moment. Damn it, Lina, I thought. This situation was her fault. The only thing I appreciated about it was that it prevented me from having lusty thoughts of her, which helped me focus on my clients better.
“Don’t send her in, Brandi. I’ll go out into the lobby,” I said.
I didn’t even check my appearance first. Instead, I walked out quickly, like I was quite busy and set the tone for distance. It was imperative that I didn’t show any signs of weakness with Julia. It wasn’t good for her and it wasn’t acceptable for me.
“Dr. Sessions, I’m so happy to see you. I have something for you,” Julia said eagerly.