“Exactly.”
“You don’t look heartbroken.”
“I’ll survive. This was the first time I actually tried to build a relationship from the ground up . . . you know, you meet someone you like, you start getting to know each other. You’re dating, taking things slowly, trying to adapt and see where it goes. But I guess you can’t just expect something like love to follow a formula. It either happens on its own or it doesn’t.”
“Sometimes you can get surprised. Bas kept telling me I was going to fall in love with him, but I didn’t believe him. Then I woke up one day and realized I had.”
“Interesting.” They stopped chatting long enough to order. “So how long did you date your husband before that epiphany?”
“We weren’t even dating. I was involved with Joanne, a woman in my graduate program. She finished two years before I did and got a job at a college in Alabama. That wasn’t the kind of life I wanted, so we split up. Bas lived in the apartment downstairs—”
“Wait. You were with a woman before you got married.”
“Right. Three women actually.” She saw Charlotte’s bemused expression and realized what she had said. “Not all at the same time.”
Charlotte laughed. “This is turning into a very interesting story. Please continue.”
“Bas thought it was fascinating. He used to beg me for details.”
“I bet.”
“After Joanne left, I started hanging out with Bas. It was nice just to be friends and not have any pressure. He was in law school, so neither of us had much free time to do things. But he would wait for me at the library so I wouldn’t have to walk home by myself at night. That didn’t exactly fit my image of being a strong, independent woman who could take care of herself, but I appreciated it.”
“He sounds like a nice guy.”
“He really was. And one day out of the blue, he said he thought we’d make a good pair and we should get married someday. He said it so matter-of-factly I thought he was kidding. When I reminded him I liked women as much as he did, he said he wasn’t worried, that I’d fall in love with him eventually.”
“And then you did.”
“I did. It was right after Christmas my last year. I was finishing my dissertation and Bas was studying for the bar exam. It suddenly hit me that I would miss him, not just as a friend, but as more. So I—” Glynn stopped, wondering if she was sharing too much. “Should I stop talking now?”
Charlotte laughed again. “Oh, no. Something tells me you’re just getting to the good parts.”
“I guess I am. The short version is I thought about it for weeks. One day I finally went downstairs and jumped his bones to see if I liked it. When we woke up the next morning, he asked me if I was in love with him yet and I said yes.”
“You tell a wonderful story.”
“I don’t get to tell the true version often. It loses a lot without the part about taking Bas for a test drive.”
“I’ll admit, that added a nifty twist.”
Glynn appreciated how easily Charlotte seemed to accept her life with Bas, unlike Stephanie, who couldn’t understand how she could have had a fulfilling life with a man while claiming to prefer women. “I haven’t exactly followed a typical path in my life. Mine’s been more of a zigzag.”
“That isn’t unusual,” Charlotte said. “Most things in life are on a continuum. Nobody is a hundred percent anything. Why should sexuality be any different?”
“I think what’s interesting—at least for me—is that it seems so fluid, like I slide completely from one side to the other.”
“We do that with other things too . . . like politics. So there’s hope that one day you’ll come to your senses and make your way back to your logical roots.”
“You know what I say to that?”
“Fat chance?”
• • •
Charlotte pulled into Glynn’s driveway, sorry for the evening to be nearing its end. They had talked nonstop for over three hours about everything from sexuality to their experiences in the Bosnian war. “I don’t want to keep you from your report. I can see the pictures some other time.”
“You won’t keep me. I promise to fall asleep right on schedule whether I’m finished with it or not.”
Charlotte followed Glynn to the door, holding the leftover pizza while Glynn fished the report from her mailbox and unlocked the door. They entered a foyer where Glynn flipped switches that lit up the two-story town house.
“Someone likes to cook,” Charlotte said, nodding toward the gourmet kitchen as she walked into the family room. An enormous flat-screen television dominated the far wall. “And someone else likes to watch TV.”
“This is where my son spends half of his waking life.” Glynn took the pizza and set it on the pass-through counter.
“That puts him in the normal range for a teenager, I think.” From the center of the family room, she could see more rooms upstairs. “Bedrooms?”
“Three, but they’re small. And there’s an office here.” Glynn pointed to a door off the family room. “That’s where the pictures are.”
Charlotte followed her into the paneled room, which was packed tightly with file cabinets and bookcases. A few papers were scattered on a large desk in the center of the room.
“Excuse my mess.”
“If this is a mess, I’m never showing you my office.”
“I’ve seen your office.”
“I’m talking about the one at home that isn’t straightened up by a secretary and cleaning crew.”
“These are my Congress pictures,” Glynn said, pointing to the interior wall. “The family ones are all along the staircase.”
“It’s nice you have these,” Charlotte said, stepping close to peer at the first one, a shot of Glynn with a smiling man who was holding a baby.
“That was the night Bas was elected to the House. Sebby was five weeks old.”
“Look at you with your long hair.”
“I wore it that way for about fifteen years. When I went to Bosnia—this is gross—I got head lice and had it all cut off.”
Charlotte shuddered. “I remember that. We had it in our camp too.” She stepped over to the next picture. “Who are these people?”
“That’s the whole staff celebrating on election night. The woman is Marcella Stroupe. She was Bas’s campaign director. She works for Guy Preston now.”
“The senator?”
Glynn nodded. “And she looks exactly the same today as she did that night. The rest of us have aged sixteen years.”
Charlotte peered closely at the picture. “Your husband was a handsome man.”
“He sure was. Sebby looks just like him.”
“Not completely. He has your eyes and hair. Who’s this?”
“That’s Roy Baker. He and Bas played football together at IU. He’s on my staff now.”
“He’s a big guy.”
“He’s a lamb, the gentlest soul I’ve ever met.”
“It’s nice to have people like that in our lives. They take the edge off.”
“I know what you mean.” Glynn backed up to reveal the next picture. She was dressed in black, and a serviceman was handing her a folded flag. “Some people might find this one kind of morbid. It’s at Bas’s funeral.”
“Very touching.”
“And this is me taking the oath to finish Bas’s term . . . and one of me with Tina and Roy on my first election night. And there’s Sebby.”
“How old was he then?”
“Six. Oh, and this is my mother-in-law, Irene. That’s why we have a third bedroom, by the way. We couldn’t afford a guest house in another part of town.”
Charlotte chuckled. “Where’s your family?”
“They do their thing in San Diego. Mom won’t fly, so we go out there once a year.”
“Are you close?”
Glynn cocked her head to one side. “Not anymore. They didn’t approve of my girlfriends in college, but once I married Bas, I was the per
fect daughter.”
“But now you’re a congresswoman. That should count for something.”
“I’m a congresswoman who still likes women. I thought they might be more open to that with the rest of the package, but I was wrong.”
“They met Stephanie?”
“No, but I told them I was seeing her and they made it clear I wasn’t to bring her home. Imagine hearing something like that at forty years old.”
Charlotte’s coming out experience had been unpleasant at first, but at least her family had come to accept it. “Have you told them about your breast cancer? Or about Sebby?”
“I called them while Sebby was still in the hospital. My father, the retired Marine, offered up his wisdom, which was that he’d be all right if he had a man in his life.”
Charlotte knew from the anger and hurt in Glynn’s voice this was an old wound. “I wish you didn’t have to carry all of this by yourself.” Without even realizing it, she had placed both of her hands on Glynn’s shoulders, very nearly drawing her into a hug.
“I’m not carrying it by myself. I have Sebby. I have Tina and Roy. And now I have you.”
“Yes, you do.” Charlotte gave in to the protective urge and pulled Glynn into her arms. “I’m here for you, whatever you need.”
Glynn returned the embrace, burying her face into Charlotte’s neck for several seconds without a word. “I like this,” she finally murmured before pulling away. “But what I need right now is to remember that my son is fighting for his sanity, and I have no business thinking about what feels good to me.”
Charlotte felt the same rush of emotions, and struggled to regain control by stepping back and burrowing her hands into her pockets.
Glynn nodded and looked at her sheepishly. “I guess I should get to work on that report.”
“Yeah, don’t stay up too late.”
Chapter 12
Charlotte read the ethical guidelines of the American Psychiatric Association for what seemed like the twentieth time, though she had known them by heart since her first year of premed. There was no definitive answer to this particular situation. Romantic relationships with family members of patients were clearly out of bounds because of their potential to compromise the patient’s treatment. However, Sebby was no longer her patient, so that risk was moot.
The greater threat, it seemed, was exploiting Glynn’s vulnerable state. Even that wasn’t technically a violation of the APA’s ethical code, since Glynn was not the patient, but it pushed the limits of Charlotte’s personal sense of ethics. The last thing she wanted was for Glynn to feel she had taken advantage of a confidence or a need for support. But last night, she admitted to herself that her feelings for Glynn weren’t just those of a casual friend. Glynn had touched her with something deeper, something that aroused her senses and left her wanting more.
She sighed heavily and looked one last time at the code of conduct. One of the best things about working in this department was having Brandon as a colleague and friend. His advice on this personal matter would be invaluable, but she couldn’t seek it without revealing Glynn’s secret.
The irony of that thought caused her to sigh. A romantic relationship with Glynn would mean hiding her life from everyone, just as Glynn did.
Glynn gathered her papers and stood, glad for the chance to stretch after three hours in a subcommittee meeting. Her brain was as tired as her body, but neither matched her emotional exhaustion.
She was missing Sebby fiercely, as he hadn’t called at his usual time on Wednesday morning. Considering his apparent withdrawal on Sunday, she wasn’t too surprised, but she wanted at least to speak with Mark to find out how he was doing.
The other thing that bugged her, though not as much as missing her son, was the incident with Charlotte on Monday. Every time she thought about it, she shuddered with embarrassment, wishing she had kept her feelings to herself. Charlotte had probably meant the hug only as friendly support. Glynn had just let herself get caught up in how good it felt for someone to hold her, and read too much into it. And even though Charlotte had told her to call, she didn’t want to do that while she was feeling so needy.
Tina met her at the door of the committee room with papers to sign and phone messages. “Mark McKee called about ten minutes ago. He wants you to call back when you get a chance.”
Though she had planned to call him, the fact he was calling made her anxious.
She ducked into a vacant room and dialed the direct number for her son’s therapist. “Mark, this is Glynn Wright. How’s Sebby?”
“He’s fine. I thought I should touch base.” His formal tone alerted her.
“Is there something wrong? Is he upset with me?”
“He’s been working hard in our sessions, and some of the things that have been bothering him for years are finally starting to come out. I need to ask for your patience over the next week or so. I think it would be best if you didn’t come this weekend. Let Sebby concentrate on getting it all out.” Again, a formality of tone.
Tears stung her eyes. What horrible memories had her son kept hidden? “Can he call me?”
Mark said slowly, “I think it’s best right now not to make him feel pulled in different directions. Please give him a little more time to work through this.”
“Whatever he needs, Mark,” she said, defeated.
She slumped into a chair, the strain of the past week taking its toll. Not since those first hours in the emergency room with Sebby had she felt such anguish and despair.
“Are you okay, Glynn?” Tina leaned against the doorjamb, still holding things that needed attention.
“Yeah,” she lied. “What else do you have?”
“Senator Culbertson wants to meet with you today. I put you down for fifteen minutes at three thirty. And Irene called. She gave me her flight information for next Friday. She said she wanted to help get everything ready to go as soon as Sebby gets out.”
Glynn tried unsuccessfully to suppress a groan. “I told her not to come. Sebby doesn’t want to go back to Indiana.”
Tina gave her a look of understanding, no doubt thinking of her own mother-in-law.
“Thanks, Tina,” she said in dismissal, digging for her cell phone. If nothing else, she would call Irene and have her cancel her trip. At least she could assert dominion over her own home.
The moment she opened her phone, it vibrated to announce an incoming call.
“Glynn, it’s Charlotte.”
Myriad emotions filled her as she recognized the friendly voice. “Hi,” she managed to say.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I . . . no. Sebby hasn’t called me all week. Mark wants me to stay away until they get through whatever this is. I’m starting to feel like Sebby’s problem is me.”
“Don’t draw any conclusions, Glynn. I know it’s hard, but you have to try not to get yourself worked up over it. Let Mark and Sebby do the work on that end.”
She sighed and looked at her watch. She had five minutes to get to the Longworth Building. “I have to go to a lunch meeting. I wish we had time to talk.”
“Me too. I’d like to stop by for a little while tonight, but I don’t want to interfere with your work.”
“I refuse to take work home again tonight. I’d love it if you came by.” Glynn closed her phone and started out the door, glad to have at least one of her worries settled. Charlotte had sounded chipper, not at all awkward or tentative as she had feared. Maybe she was imagining things with Sebby too.
Charlotte pulled in behind Glynn’s Camry. Her intention had been to talk frankly tonight about their friendship and the restrictions of her professional code. But after their brief conversation this morning, it was clear Glynn needed to vent her frustrations about Sebby first.
Fresh from her racquetball game, she wore her parka with Stanford sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. The front door opened as she reached the top step.
“Did you win?” “I didn’t get hit by my partner this time. Th
at’s better than winning.”
Glynn led her into the family room and turned the digital television to a music channel playing uninterrupted soft jazz.
Charlotte settled on the couch beside her, following her lead to kick off her shoes and place her feet on the coffee table. “You sounded this morning like you were having a tough day. Want to talk about it?”
Glynn took a deep breath. “I told you most of it. Mark says he thinks I should stay away from Sebby while he’s working through some tough issues. He said he didn’t want him to feel like he was being pulled in different directions. I don’t know why he would feel that way unless I’m the one he’s fighting.”
“It doesn’t have to mean that. Sometimes it takes a lot of work to get patients to go back to the time when the problem started. Maybe Mark’s afraid that seeing you will make Sebby want to come back to the here and now because it feels more comfortable.”
“Do you really think it could be that?”
“It could be a lot of things. Maybe Sebby’s hiding things because he thinks he’s protecting you.”
“From what?”
She shrugged. “Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk about the details of his father’s death because he’s afraid it will make you sad again.”
“But what if that’s not it? What if Sebby feels like I’ve abandoned him? Wouldn’t it be better for me to talk to him so he’ll know I haven’t?”
Charlotte realized too late what she had walked into. She shifted sideways to look Glynn in the eye. “I have to be very careful here, Glynn. Remember when I said we could talk about Sebby, but it wouldn’t be right for me to talk about his treatment?”
Glynn nodded.
“I’ve probably already said too much by speculating on why Mark wants you to stay clear. It would be unprofessional for me to give you advice, especially to tell you anything that runs counter to what Mark says. He’s the one in charge of Sebby’s treatment, and you should talk directly with him if you have more questions or doubts.”
“I’m sorry. I did just what you asked me not to do.”
“No, it was my fault. I was trying to have it both ways. I want to be here for you, Glynn. I told you to let me share the load, and I know it must seem as if I’m pulling the rug out from under you.”
Secrets So Deep eBook Page 13