by Portia Moore
“You cannot worry about me, son. I am a fighter, and I will always be fine you know that,” she reassures me.
I know she’s a fighter. I saw her kick cancer, but I can still see the sadness hiding behind her eyes. She’s my mom, and I want her to be okay.
“It still doesn’t mean you can’t be hurt.” She smiles tightly at me, stands and gently grips both of my shoulders.
“We all will experience hurt in this life, son. The trick is to not let it change who we are—immobilize us. You can’t let the hurt define who you are.” She squeezes my shoulder and then heads to the kitchen, her eyes scanning the contents.
“I can work with this.” She flashes me a wide smile and gathers several items from the fridge.
“So you’re okay?” I ask her feeling as if I’m hovering, but I have to know she’s okay.
“I’m better than I thought I would be,” she tells me as she lines the items out on the counter. Two months is how long I’ve been gone, and I’ve seen that a lot can change in days let alone two months.
“So you and Dad…” I trail off and she glances at me.
“He’s still at the house.” She busies herself with the food items, acquainting herself with the cabinets. I don’t know where anything is to direct her.
“And you’re okay with that?”
“It is your dad’s house.” She gives me a half-smile as she lays out a cutting board and begins to peel a potato.
“Mom, have you forgiven him for what he did? Are you guys still together?” I ask her urgently. She stops peeling the potato and turns her full attention toward me.
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“If you wanted to leave him, you can Mom. You don’t have to stay with him because of me.” I mean this with everything in me. I’d hate for my mom to feel obligated to be with him after everything he did—after the lies he told, how much he hurt us.
“Of course not, Chris. You’re a grown man with his own family.” She teases me but I can’t smile back at her.
“You know what I mean Mom,” I tell her and rub the back of neck.
“Whatever ends up happening with your father and I, it’s important to me that you don’t hate him.” She touches my wrists, and I glance at her. “I know what he did was terrible, and selfish, and to some unforgivable…”
To some unforgivable? To anyone it should be unforgivable. He slept with my best friend and got her pregnant. How could anyone just let that go? I run my hand over my head and let out a deep breath. Yesterday I told myself I would have to eventually make things right with my dad but not because I want to forgive him, or because he deserves my forgiveness. The only reason is because I need him—I need as many people on my side as I can get, and I know he hates Cal and he’ll most likely hate Collin. The one thing I can depend on him for is being on my side, but just hearing her say these things makes me question if I can even speak to him without wanting to punch him in the face.
“He’s your father. I don’t want you to punish him for me,” she says adamantly. Her eyes are clouded with sadness that I didn’t see before, and that sadness doesn’t make me want to forgive him any time soon.
“He loves you so much, and there is no excusing what he did, but I know he didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think I can forgive him. Every time I think of it, I can’t get him and Lisa out of my head.” She closes her eyes tightly as if I’ve just stabbed her in the chest and I immediately regret what I just said to her.
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
“I will always fault your father for trying to hide what happened and it affecting you the way that it did,” she says quietly.
“It’s not about me. He hurt you, he lied to you!”
“I know that, Chris!” Her voice is tense but doesn’t break. We both let out a cleansing breath.
“Forgiveness isn’t easy.” She lets out another breath. “It’s not a magic moment where all of your anger and pain go away. It’s something you have to work at every day.” I can see her chin quivering, and I feel like an asswipe for bringing this up to her.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” I feel a burning sensation in my throat.
“No, it’s okay. We can’t pretend this didn’t happen. We will work through it and try to get past it.” She says this with a smile even though she’s on the verge of tears. She hugs me gently, and I hug her back. A small part of me wishes that Lisa didn’t tell me what happened, but sometimes you think you want out of the dark and when you’re not, the light is bright and burns.
“Hello, Hello.” Lauren calls out as she returns home just as my mom and I are finishing up breakfast.
“Princess!!” My mom squeals as Lauren comes in carrying Caylen. She’s gotten bigger since the last time I’ve seen her. Her smile is big and bright and makes me smile. She has a cookie in her mouth with two teeth she didn’t have the last time I saw her. My mom starts to rush over to them but stops herself realizing I haven’t seen her in months. Lauren approaches me with a smile matching our daughter’s and hands her to me. She comes easily and slaps me with the cookie.
“Hey, Cay.” She offers me her slobbered cookie, and I kiss her on the cheek, spinning her around as she breaks into a fit of giggles.
“Did you miss me, Cay?” I ask her and when she nods, we all laugh. “I missed you so much.” I kiss her on the forehead.
“You guys look so cute. I’ve got to get a picture.” My mom grabs her camera. “Big smiles,” she tells us and it’d be harder for me not to smile. She takes more than a few.
“You get in there, Lauren.” She nudges Lauren toward us. Our eyes meet, and I can’t help but see the joy glittering in them. She leans her head on my shoulder, and we take another.
“Make sure you send me those, Mom.”
“Me too,” Lauren adds.
My mom happily kicks us out of the house after Lauren and Caylen eat breakfast. Lauren and I head to Helen’s office for my appointment. It’s only a fifteen-minute walk from Lauren’s building, and for April in Chicago, it’s in the upper 70’s, which she says is magical weather for the season. The sun is bright and there’s an excited energy in the air of good things to look forward to. The weather brightens my mood and is much needed after last night. It was hard seeing the gallery that Collin purchased for Lauren and though it made me smile for her happiness, it also made me want to vomit at the same time. It’s amazing— the space, the lighting, and not too far from her house. She’s already done the decorating and groundwork and will be opening soon. Her dreams are taking shape right before my eyes and I’ve never felt happier for a person in my life, but at the same time, I honestly resent it.
Even though she didn’t say it, I know how much she loves it and how much she appreciates Collin for giving it to her. He sure made Cal and I look like self-absorbed douchebags. While all we’ve done is drive her crazy, he gave her something she could call her own—a place she could escape to—and she’ll always attribute that to him. Her opening is in three weeks and I can’t help but think that it’ll be him she wishes was there with her.
“How did things go with your mom?” she asks breaking me out of my thoughts.
“I’m glad she’s here.” I stuff my hands in my pockets and adjust them again. Lauren looks over at me curiously. “These almost feel too small, which is weird because they’re my size.” I feel a little embarrassed, and she grins at me amused.
“They’re skinny fit, Chris. They’re supposed to be like that.”
“I should have had my mom bring my pants from home,” I mutter, and she chuckles.
“We can go shopping later, grab you some things that are more your style.” She smiles as pretty as the day I met her. I scratch the back of my head. I hate to seem like a pest or difficult, but the majority of the clothes in her closet aren’t anything I would wear. It was fairly easy to distinguish whose clothes were whose. I know that Cal’s into all things dark—most of his clothes
various shades of grey and black—and everything else has a designer label attached. Collin’s clothes are out there—nothing a solid color, not a T-shirt in sight—and material that seems too expensive to wear.
“No, it seems like a waste of money. I can have my mom ship me some of my stuff here when she gets back.”
“When is the last time you’ve bought new clothes?”
“Maybe like…. two years ago… I think,” I tell her and she laughs.
“I think you can afford to splurge a little,” she teases me and she slides her hand into mine. It’s so subtle that it makes my heart jump. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to just simply hold her hand, but I instinctively keep it in mine. It feels good. Yesterday after our talk, we fell asleep at the gallery next to each other but there was space between us—or more like ghosts of multiple personalities past.
“You know we’ve never sat down and gone over your financials.”
“You mean like bank accounts?”
“Yes, your accounts, the stocks you own, it’s all yours.”
“I bet my name isn’t on anything.” I chuckle, and the smallest frown appears on her face. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to keep making things difficult.”
“No, it’s fine. I just never thought about that,” she says lightly. “I think it’s important for you to see what you have available to you. This is your life too, and it may put things into perspective as far as what you’d like to do. Maybe you could go back to school if you wanted, open your own business, start a non-for-profit.” She shrugs while smiling brightly at me.
“With everything that happened when Cal left, I never really took advantage of the position that he left me in. I wasted a lot of time, sulking… and yes it was probably needed but… I don’t want that for you.” She stops and I look into her eyes and see how genuine she is. I kiss her on the forehead and hold her tighter, and let out a sigh of relief when she hugs me back.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Scott. Dr. Lyce is on a phone call, but after that, she’ll be right with you,” Helen’s receptionist tells us. She’s warm and friendly as if she knows me, but she doesn’t know me. She knows them… or I guess she probably could have been told about me. It’s strange to have someone know about my condition that is a stranger.
“Can you let her know Lauren will be joining us for our session,” I add and her eyes widen in surprise.
“Oh, okay. I’ll be sure to let her know,” she promises me with a smile. I leave the desk and take my seat next to Lauren who is smiling widely at me.
“How much do you want to bet that Helen flips when she finds out I’m coming?” She grins.
“Well, she’s just going to have to deal with it,” I tell her with a shrug.
“Thanks for sharing this with me, Chris.”
“There’s no secrets between us. I don’t ever want there to be.” Lauren smiles even wider, and I think this might come close to topping Collin’s grand gesture of purchasing the gallery.
“Christopher, she’s ready for you,” the receptionist calls me. I stand and Lauren hesitates a minute.
“Come on,” I tell her and she grins again and follows behind me to Helen’s office. Helen sits behind her desk as we both walk in. If she’s surprised or annoyed, she doesn’t show it. Lauren closes the door behind us.
“I’m so glad to see you again Christopher. Good to see you too, Lauren,” she says as we both sit down.
“Always a pleasure, Helen.” Lauren’s tone is on the brink of sarcastic and that makes me smile.
Helen asks if we’d like something to drink and we both decline. “Well let’s get right to it then shall we?”
Lauren rubs her thighs and I get comfortable in my seat. This is the first time I’ve been both excited and nervous before a session. I used to just feel tons of dread when I used to see Helen back when I thought my disorder was strictly neurological.
“How are you feeling today?” I swallow hard and smile over at Lauren. I let out a small breath and prepare to be open-minded. I’ve gotten so used to having my guard up with Helen, but with Lauren here I’m reminded that I have backup and more importantly that I need to try to make this work for her and our daughter.
“Better than I thought I would. I was able to see my mom this morning.”
“That’s great. How was it seeing her again?”
“It’s always good to see my mom.”
“Mrs. Scott is great. She’s been so helpful with everything,” Lauren expands. Helen turns her attention to Lauren.
“When you say with everything, you mean Chris’s transitions?” Helen asks her pointedly. I look at Lauren who nods.
“Does it make you uncomfortable to say the word transition, Lauren?” Lauren pauses a minute and glances at me. I look back at Helen unsure if me looking at her makes her nervous.
“Not uncomfortable just…” she shifts in her seat. “I’m not used to saying it,” Lauren responds with a shrug.
“It’s perfectly okay to refer to what’s happening as it is. One thing I’d like both of you to work on is not being ashamed or embarrassed about what happens.” Helen looks at both of us.
“I’m not embarrassed of his condition,” Lauren says her voice slightly on edge.
“I didn’t say that you were,” Helen retorts quickly. I swallow hard, feeling my face redden.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you were, Lauren. I’m embarrassed by it,” I admit.
“Admitting it is a really good step,” Helen says.
“Chris, I’m not embarrassed of your condition,” Lauren says adamantly.
“Christopher, why do you feel embarrassed,” Helen asks me. I’m quiet for a moment.
“It’s not normal.”
“In our last session we discussed that dissociating is something that everyone does just to varying degrees,” Helen reminds me and I nod.
She looks toward Lauren. “Daydreaming is an example of such.”
“I know, but they don’t have this disorder,” I tell her.
“So it’s not the fact that you dissociate. It’s more so the lack of control with you not recalling your actions while you dissociate,” she says and I nod. “And we’re going to be actively working on that.”
“What do you mean?” Lauren asks.
“There are many techniques Christopher can employ that can help him to have more control over dissociating and strategies we’re going to be using so that he can be co-conscious,” Helen tells her with a small grin.
“That’s amazing,” Lauren says enthusiastically.
“Also, you can be a partner to him in making sure when he does dissociate, he is reminded of the things he doesn’t recall he’s a part of. We discussed that at our last session,” Helen says, and I see Lauren’s smile falter the smallest amount.
“We talked about it yesterday, the calendar, and journaling,” I tell her and she nods.
“Are you comfortable with that? Sharing with Chris the things that happens while he’s away?”
I see Lauren start to squeeze her wrists—her giveaway that she’s nervous or uncomfortable.
“Anything I can do to help I will,” she replies, but her voice is shaky.
“Does that make you uncomfortable?” Helen asks. She definitely looks uncomfortable.
“Why would it be uncomfortable?” she says tightly, her eyes on Helen.
“It would only be uncomfortable if you continue to see Chris, Collin, and Cal as separate entities.”
“But that’s how they see each other,” Lauren responds quietly. Her cheeks have flushed pink.
“Our goal is for Chris to grow beyond that. It’s a crutch.” Helen says sternly. Lauren looks at me.
“I’ve explained to Chris that they are different sides to his personality. They are not individual people and in order to move forward in his treatment, he has to understand that.” Helen’s stare is now directed at me. Lauren and I glance at each other. We had this idea that we’d control these sessions and tag team Helen, but right now
it’s feeling like we’re kids sitting in the principal’s office.
“It would make things easier for the both of you. Especially you Lauren,” she says her attention now back on Lauren, who’s sunken further into her seat. “Do you feel guilty being intimate with Christopher and Collin?” Helen asks and my mouth falls open. Lauren’s face is bright red now, and her eyes are shooting daggers at Helen. Now I’m looking at Lauren too. Does she feel guilty about being with me? I never thought that she would because I’m the real person. I can see her feeling guilty about Collin, which she should be if she has.
“You’ve slept with Collin?” The words come out of my mouth quickly. She glances at me, guilt written all over her face, and I try to hide my annoyance, my disappointment.
“You were gone two months, Chris…” she mutters and my jaw clenches.
“These are the issues that arise if you continue to distinguish yourself from them, Christopher.” Lauren turns toward me but I keep my gaze on Helen.
“Do you feel guilty about sleeping with me?” I ask her, and she turns toward me her eyes wide but full of confusion. She’s confused which gives me my answer. I laugh, unable to hide my bitterness and rest my head in my hands.
“Was it not your body, Chris?” Helen asks. I don’t answer her. I know what her point is, but it doesn’t help me feel any better. The fact that she feels guilty about sleeping with me is more of the issue than her sleeping with Collin.
“We’ve got some serious issues.”
“It’s not that I feel guilty,” Lauren says her voice full of guilt.
“After everything he’s done, you’re still loyal to him?” I ask her and she drops her head to her chest and I shake my head at the turn of events that just happened.
“I think you both are missing the point of me bringing this up,” Helen interrupts us.
“What was the point of this, Helen?” Lauren asks sharply.
“Unless you take a vow of celibacy, this is an issue that you both have to work out,” Helen tells her emphatically.