by PJ Nakfoor
We found a cute fondue restaurant and were seated immediately by the hostess. Neither of us had ever tried fondue so we took some time to study the menu. I ordered a glass of champagne and Faith, a sparkling water. We started with a swiss cheese fondue served with breads and crunchy raw vegetables. Next came a pot with hot oil and a tray of various meats for dipping: roast beef, chicken kebobs, and chunks of pork. Finally, we finished, with a nod to Faith’s sweet tooth, a milk chocolate fondue with marshmallows, pound cake squares, and sliced apples and pears. I thought it was the most interesting and delicious lunch I’d ever experienced. We left a twenty-dollar tip and walked out of the restaurant feeling as cultured as New York art critics.
I let Faith loose in a DSW shoe store where she found an adorable pair of floral-patterned sneakers and a matching fanny pack. Were those really back in style?
We were tired from the shopping and heavy meal, so spent the last hour browsing through a quaint bookstore. We sat in overstuffed armchairs tucked into quiet alcoves and leafed through several books.
After a while I felt a bit antsy, so I suggested we call it a day. Walking to our car, I practiced the five-senses mindfulness activity. I called Carl and told him about our outing while Faith packed the shopping bags into the trunk. Hearing his voice and words of encouragement calmed me.
“This has been an amazing day!” said Faith, as I started the car. “Mom, can we do this a couple of times a year? It’s something I always imagined doing together.” She kissed me on the cheek. Her words filled me with so much joy that I forgot about any lingering anxiety.
“Absolutely. We have some time to make up.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
1996
Nana was turning seventy-five in a few days so Vivi and Shane drove downtown to buy her a gift. She had used the same purse for years and it was pretty battered, so Vivi suggested they shop for a new one at Wasserman’s Leather. They found a parking space along the curb nearly in front of the store.
“Shane, that spot is too small,” Vivi protested.
“I drive an old Honda, not a limo. Besides, I’m an expert at parallel parking,” Shane said. Vivi squeezed her eyes shut, praying he wasn’t over-confident. He maneuvered the car and swiftly placed it perfectly in the spot.
“You can open your eyes now. I told you I was number one in driver’s ed,” he teased.
They went inside and looked around at the beautiful leather pieces: luggage sets, handbags, briefcases, wallets and backpacks. Vivi inhaled deeply, savoring the rich, earthy scent. A tall, white-haired woman with tiny reading glasses perched on her nose approached them. She wore a sophisticated navy blazer and skirt and navy patent low-heeled pumps.
“How can I help you?” she asked.
“We’re here to buy our grandmother a handbag,” Vivi answered.
The woman guided Vivi to a beautiful display of purses in several colors and sizes. Vivi turned around to find Shane fidgeting as he paced around the center of the store.
“Shane, over here,” she called out.
“Go ahead. I’ll go with whatever you pick out.”
Vivi rolled her eyes but wondered what was up. He seemed fine as he showed off his parking skills. With the woman’s assistance, she selected a moderately priced, honey-colored shoulder bag. They paid the woman and left the store and headed to their car.
“Some jerk double parked next to us. How’re we going to get out?” Shane snarled, as he pointed at his hemmed-in Civic.
“Hopefully the driver will be right back,” Vivi said.
Shane walked to the SUV and peered in the window.
“The idiot has his hazard lights on, but the vehicle’s empty,” Shane called out.
“Let’s wait in our car,” said Vivi.
They got into the Civic and Shane’s restlessness increased. He tapped his foot against the break and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. After about five minutes, a heavy-set man meandered out of a shop and towards the SUV. He nonchalantly unlocked his door and got into the driver’s seat, all the while staring at Shane. When he didn’t start his car immediately, Shane unrolled his window and yelled “Hurry up, asshole.”
“Shane! Settle down,” Vivi said.
Within fifteen seconds Shane was out of the Civic and knocking on the window of the SUV.
“I said, hurry up!” Shane yelled as the man unrolled his window.
Vivi heard the man say, “What’s your problem? I’m going.”
“Not fast enough, motherfucker.”
Suddenly, the SUV lurched and took off. Shane was red-faced and riled up when he returned to the Civic.
“Something’s going on, Shane,” Vivi said. “I’ve never seen you fly off the handle so easily.”
After several moments, he said, “I’ve been so irritable since I gave up the weed. It makes me want to start smoking again.”
Vivi patted his shoulder and asked, “What about the counseling?”
“I couldn’t get an appointment till next month,” he said.
“Then let’s look for a twelve-step meeting in the meantime.”
Shane squeezed his car out of the parking space and didn’t speak until they were halfway home.
“Okay, Vivi, I guess it couldn’t hurt.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
1996
In the last few weeks of the school year, Vivi and Jesse became an item. He made her feel like a beauty queen when they were together—constantly telling her she was gorgeous, and she couldn’t believe how fast they had become a couple. They walked the halls and ate lunch together and talked on the phone nearly every evening. On the weekend following prom, they had their first date. After studying for finals at Vivi’s house and spending some time talking with Nana and Papa, they went to a movie. Jesse had just received his driver’s license and assured them he would drive safely. Vivi knew her grandparents were hesitant—Nana fiddled with a tissue and Papa quizzed Jesse about the dependability of his car.
“Just got a tune-up and my oil changed. And I always drive under the speed limit,” Jesse said, his face spreading open with a charming smile.
“Good answer. Have fun, kids,” Papa said, and turned back to his newspaper.
The theater was less than half full and after buying a tub of popcorn and Milk Duds, Vivi followed Jesse to the back row which was completely empty.
“I usually sit near the front. This is weird,” said Vivi.
“These are the best seats in the house. You’ll see,” he said, with a crooked smile and his drawl that drove her crazy.
The movie , A Tangled Summer, was about a teenage girl who takes a summer job at a resort where a guest is murdered. Her love interest, a resort employee, becomes the top suspect. Vivi had seen the trailer and some of the scenes were chilling, but others were erotic. She hoped this wouldn’t make her feel embarrassed, remembering the slow dance at the prom. Jesse draped his arm around Vivi’s shoulders while they settled in and munched popcorn.
Halfway through the movie, Jesse put the popcorn on the seat next to him, pulled Vivi close and turned her head towards his. He lightly kissed her forehead and cheek, then put his mouth on hers, kissing her so passionately that she almost lost her breath. He kissed her several times, probing the inside of her mouth with his tongue and breathing heavily. His right hand slowly brushed across her chest and lingered for a moment. Vivi was paralyzed. Once again, she felt that mixture of excitement and discomfort. The second time his hand caressed her breast she pulled away, pretending she needed a tissue from her purse. Jesse must have gotten the message because he kept his hands to himself for the rest of the show. But the ride home was tense, and their small talk was forced.
Jesse apologized as they sat in front of the house.
Vivi said that she was attracted to him, but he was her first boyfriend, and she wasn’t ready for anything beyond kissing. She shared a bit about her anxiety and her grandparents being overprotective.
“I’ve been wondering, why do yo
u live with your grandparents?” he asked.
“Our parents died when Shane and I were little,” she said. “A snowmobile accident.”
Jesse pulled back in surprise.
“I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine…” The words seemed stuck in his throat.
“It’s okay. Most people don’t know what to say. I’d better get inside. Thanks for the movie.”
Jesse walked her to the door and hugged her tightly.
“I’ll call you tomorrow. Is that okay?”
“Sure. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.” She now regretted opening up to him so easily. Vivi wanted his respect, not his sympathy.
* * *
The following day was Nana’s birthday. They declared it a “no cooking birthday,” so they sat down to salad and a deep-dish pizza, ordered from their favorite place, The Town Pizzeria. Nana reminded everyone to say grace before they dug into the savory pizza. After dinner, as Shane and Vivi cleared the dishes from the table, Vivi’s mind drifted again back to Jesse. He said he was going to call her today…what was she supposed to be doing again? Oh, dessert.
“Nana, I hope your saved room for your favorite.” She retrieved a red velvet cake which she had hidden in the oven and set it down in front of Nana who smiled broadly. They sang an off-key “Happy Birthday,” and Nana blew out the candles.
“I don’t know if turning seventy-five is anything to celebrate,” Nana said.
“It beats the alternative,” Papa quipped, and they all laughed.
After cake and ice cream, Nana opened her gifts.
“Wasserman’s!” she said, as she unwrapped and lifted the purse out of the box. Her jaw dropped. “It’s beautiful. You kids shouldn’t spend this kind of money on me.”
“We’re glad you like it,” said Shane. “Vivi’s the one who picked it out. I just gave her my stamp of approval.”
The phone rang and Papa answered, “Hello? Vivi? Yes, she’s right here.”
Vivi hoped it was Jesse.
“I’ll get it in the living room. Leave the dishes on the table. Shane and I will get them washed and put away.” Vivi’s hand trembled as she lifted the receiver.
“Hello?” she said sweetly.
“Oh my God, Vivi, I think I’m in love. He’s sooo cute,” Bethany gushed.
Vivi’s shoulders sank in disappointment.
“Bethany, slow down—who are you talking about?”
“Shane. I went into the store, what’s it called? Where he works.”
“Quality Market.”
“Yes. He rang me up at the counter. I haven’t seen him since he graduated but he remembered me. Anyway, I think he was flirting with me. Do you think he’d date, or at least hang out with one of his sister’s friends?”
“I have no idea.” Vivi hoped her irritation wasn’t evident. Bethany was always enthusiastic, but this was a bit overboard, crushing on Shane after one encounter.
“Without being obvious, do you think you could feel him out?” she asked.
“Maybe,” Vivi answered without enthusiasm.
“Let me know if you can and what he says. Thanks, Bestie. See ya tomorrow.”
“Yes, ma’am, will do.” Vivi said, saluting before she hung up. Bestie? Bethany hadn’t called Vivi since prom.
* * *
“Was that your new boyfriend?” Shane asked as he and Vivi handwashed the dishes. Vivi washed, Shane dried.
“No, actually it was Bethany. She said she saw you at the store yesterday.”
“She made a phone call just to tell you that?” His face said “Seriously?”
“No, she just mentioned it as we were talking."
“Does she have ADD or something? She was acting really flighty. Dug around in her purse like she was at an excavation site.”
“She just has a lot of energy, but if she’s nervous she gets hyper.”
“Nervous? She was buying a pack of gum.”
“Shane, are you really that oblivious?”
He stopped drying a plate and stared at her with a puzzled expression. After a couple of seconds, he scrunched up his nose as if a skunk had entered the room. Then he started laughing. “Me and Bethany? No thanks!”
“What’s your type, bro? You act like you’re too good for any girl.”
“I just like to keep people guessing. And speaking of ‘types,’ I’m not so sure Jesse is yours.”
She stopped in place as she was putting the plates in the cupboard and looked at Shane.
“Really? Why not?”
“Nothing obvious. I could be wrong. Just be careful.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
2020
Dr. Buhari’s office called and asked if I could come to the office for my next appointment. I was surprised, as he hadn’t mentioned this to me.
“Why?” I asked. “The video appointments have been working out really well.”
“He said you’ve completed eight of your ten steps. Congratulations, Mrs. Long. He likes to change the comfort level of his patients’ appointments once they are seven or eight steps along. But of course if you feel strongly—"
I interrupted, “No, that’s fine. I understand now. Is he available on Wednesday?”
“Let’s see…yes, two-o’clock?”
“Sure. See you then and thank you.”
My initial response to this sudden change was to tear up and become upset. But I was no longer that same woman. It made sense for Dr. Buhari to proceed this way. After all, I recently spent the day shopping out of town, so I could do this.
* * *
Carl told me he wanted to start eating healthier and begin an exercise program. I had been wanting to try more light cooking recipes but figured he would grumble about it.
“That’s a great idea, honey,” I said. “The next time I shop for groceries I’ll stock up on fresh fruits and veggies, and whole grains.”
“Don’t get too crazy. I’m not giving up my canned vegetables.”
“Even your canned veggies have nutrition. Nutrition, but no crunch. And we’ll boost our walking this summer. Maybe even start jogging.”
Carl mumbled something.
“I didn’t hear what you said,” I said, as I cupped my ear.
“Never mind.”
* * *
Dr. Buhari’s office was elegant and serene, reflecting his genteel persona. The waiting area was furnished with tasteful leather settees and chairs, and slender brushed-nickel lamps with beige linen shades. There were two large dark wood bookcases filled with books about travel and photography. Three African prints were framed in dark wood and strategically placed around the room. As contemporary as the décor was, the room had a warm, intimate vibe.
The reception staff was equally as professional. I checked in and waited only a few minutes before being called back. I believed that an office culture was started at the top. A harried doctor tended to have to harried employees. The opposite was also true—a polished one, in general, had a seasoned staff.
Dr. Buhari greeted me with a warm handshake and a vivid smile. His personal office was more of the same. There was a leather couch, a mahogany desk, and a bookcase filled with textbooks, psychiatry journals and two stacks of National Geographic and Forbes. On the wall were framed medical licenses and certificates. He led me to the couch where a box of tissues and a bottled water sat atop an adjacent end table.
During the first thirty minutes we discussed my progress and my plan for the final steps: attending an outdoor concert, and a canoe and camping trip with Carl.
“After you’ve completed the steps, I’d like you to consider attending some group therapy sessions,” he said.
I snickered, blurting out, “Group therapy for agoraphobics is a thing?”
“Yes. When CBT is finished, many patients use it as a maintenance program.”
“But you’re asking anxious people to drive to a location and interact with complete strangers, and keep their sanity?” I asked, though I was half kidding.
“I rarely
suggest it to patients initially. We’ve scheduled group sessions, led by well-trained staff, to be held in our waiting room after office hours and on Saturdays, twice monthly. That way, patients are coming to a familiar and safe place.”
He had a gift of describing implausible ideas in a way that made perfect sense. He handed me a group therapy schedule and walked me to the door. As he said goodbye, he did a slight, courtly bow. Thank you, Faith, for finding Dr. Buhari.
* * *
It was time to plunge into Newsflash Step Nine. I had done some research and read about a James Taylor concert being held in a huge outdoor amphitheater on the west side of the state near the Lake Michigan shoreline. We were able to get tickets through a broker. It seemed to me that we’ve been on more dates recently than a popular college coed, which was good for my soul and our marriage.
* * *
We set out for the concert. The day had been rainy, but the further west we drove, the drier it became. We had packed a blanket to spread out because we’d be sitting on the lawn in a large open area. I made sure to put a brown paper bag in my purse along with the Valium.
I was surprised by the sudden apprehension I felt as we parked and saw droves of people hurrying to the gate. But by now, I automatically dove into mindfulness practices as soon as the anxiety started, which made it easier to stave off a panic attack.
“Are you ready, Viv?” Carl asked. "You look a little agitated. We can wait for a bit if you want.”
“Just give me a couple of minutes.”
Carl waited in silence while I meditated, and soon the anxiety lifted.
I took one final cleansing breath.
“Let’s go!”
* * *
We found an empty spot on the crowded lawn, spread out our blanket and opened the cooler. I stood to stretch and gazed across what looked like a giant patchwork quilt. Hardly a spot of grass was left open. Carl drank root beer, and I had two wine coolers. We unwrapped our homemade sandwiches, a composite of turkey, tomatoes, lettuce and a slather of mustard piled between two pieces of whole grain bread. I opened a bowl of fruit salad and a bag of veggie chips. Carl was pleasantly surprised by the food. He even left the lettuce and tomatoes on his sandwich. After finishing our picnic meal, we laid back and looked at the dark velvet sky dotted with brilliant stars. The enormity of it was sensational, and there I was, allowing myself to appreciate its beauty, instead of fearing its vastness. Warmth filled my body, a spiritual awakening of sorts, and I knew my life was on the right path. I wondered if Carl had scheduled the appointment with the cardiologist, but I bit my tongue, not wanting a snag in our evening.