A Long Time Coming

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ALTC Chapter Five

Heart's Passage

No Ocean Deep

Infinite Possibilities

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She glanced again at the young woman and decided that this one, at least, seemed relatively normal. Clean, well-dressed, in a grungy kind of way, she seemed to be in the harmless range of anxious. Sally turned her attention back to the accounts without another thought.

Inside her corner office, Dr Sarah Morgan made a few more notes in the file of the client she had just seen, an ex-soldier with post-traumatic stress disorder. He had been one of her first clients when she had launched her practice five years earlier, and although his progress was slow, it was steady. She scribbled quickly, knowing that she only had a short time before her thoughts must turn to the next person. With a satisfied sigh she closed the file and dropped it into her out tray.

Outside, it was a clear, blue day and from her vantage point 20 stories up, Sarah had a panoramic view of the city skyline. It was somehow relaxing to be above the teeming streets like this and Sarah enjoyed a few moments of head-clearing day dreaming. It wasn’t long, however, before her internal alarm clock made her reach for the file at the top of her in tray.

Shelby Macrossan, she read. Not much to review here. The client had been referred by one of the local doctors, but other than the basics of name, address and date of birth – 22, Sarah quickly calculated – there was no other information. Which was much the way Sarah wanted it. She preferred to make her own assessment of new clients without any preconceptions provided by a doctor who might or might not know what they were talking about.

Sarah glanced at her watch. Time to introduce myself.

***********************************

Shelby didn’t even realize she was chewing her fingernails until she nibbled too far and bit into the quick. She winced at the sting but, truthfully, it was a welcome distraction from the tight knot of tension in her belly. This wasn’t Shelby’s first attempt at therapy, and the last try had ended badly, so she felt like she was out on a very long limb, over a very long drop.

She shifted in her seat uneasily, and glanced at her watch. Almost 11.35am. So when does this hour start, she wondered. At that moment a door to her left opened and a woman stepped out. Shelby took in a shapely pair of ankles before a voice saying her name pulled her eyes further north.

“Shelby?”

“Um, yeah, hello,” Shelby said, unfolding herself from the chair and standing up in a hurry. She took the offered hand and shook it.

“Hello. I’m Sarah.” The woman’s smile was warm, genuine and stretched all the way to her periwinkle blue eyes. Shelby’s butterflies settled somewhat. “Come on in.” The psychologist gestured towards her office door. Shelby picked her motorcycle helmet up off the chair next to her and walked through, Sarah following behind.

The office was relatively austere, containing a desk with its accompanying chair, and two armchairs, one of them a recliner. Tucked in one corner was a whiteboard on an easel.

“Take a seat wherever you like,” Sarah said. “But trust me, that one,” she pointed to the armchair closest to her desk, “is the most comfortable.”

Sarah watched as Shelby dropped her helmet on to the recliner and then sat carefully in the other armchair. The young woman was certainly out to make an impression, the psychologist thought as she followed Shelby into the room. Jeans strategically torn at one knee, a tight-fitting white t-shirt under a leather jacket, and black boots completed a studied image of casual rebelliousness. Shelby’s hands rested on her thighs, her fingers drumming a nervous tattoo on the denim.

Sarah sat and matched Shelby’s relatively open posture. She crossed her legs at the ankles and tucked them under the chair, her hands clasped in her lap.

“What brings you to see me today?” she asked, smiling at the young woman.

Shelby thought about her answer for a few seconds. “I guess I haven’t been too happy lately,” she finally said. “And decided I needed some help.”

Decent beginning, Sarah decided. Here of her own accord and admitting to needing help. “Tell me a little more about not feeling happy,” she said evenly.

Shelby’s fingers picked at the frayed edge of the tear in her jeans. “I … um … don’t really know where to start,” she replied. Shelby glanced up and caught Sarah’s patient gaze. “You’re not the first therapist I’ve been to,” she said.

“That’s all right,” Sarah replied. She recognized it as the first of what would, no doubt, be a series of small tests. Every new client found ways of assessing if Sarah was a good ‘fit’ for them, and it wasn’t something that unnerved her, particularly. Being non-judgmental was part of the job. Part of what made the process useful.

“About a month ago I saw someone else,” Shelby continued. “She had a crew-cut and a German accent. Told me I had a taboo about touching my mother.” She grinned lopsidedly. “She scared the crap out of me, frankly.”

Sarah laughed. “Well, hopefully I’m not going to do that,” she said.

“So far, so good,” Shelby replied.

“Why do you think she thought you had a taboo about your mother?”

Shelby tucked a flyaway lock of hair behind her ear. “She told me so, pretty bluntly. I don’t know. I guess she was asking me a bunch of stuff about my family. And as there’s only my parents and me, it was a fair bet I was going to talk about my mother a decent amount.”

“You’re an only child?”

“Yeah. I moved out of home about four years ago, and I just moved back in again. It’s not working out too well, so far.” Shelby tilted her head slightly and looked directly at Sarah. “How come you’re not taking notes?” The Uber-Frau had written constantly during their only session and had barely looked Shelby in the eye once through the whole hour.

Sarah smiled. Nice deflection. “I think it’s more useful if we just have a conversation,” she replied. “I’ll make a few notes once we’re done and that will remind me of the relevant points next time you come. Assuming that’s what you want to do.”

“I don’t know yet,” Shelby said quickly.

“That’s okay.” Sarah turned and poured herself a glass of iced water from the jug on her desk. “Would you like a glass?” she asked.

“Yes, please.” Shelby took the offered drink and took a slow mouthful. She watched while Sarah did the same, draining hers. Shelby finished and handed the glass back. “You must do a lot of talking, all day.”

“Yes. And a lot of listening,” Sarah agreed. “What about you? What do you do?”

Shelby’s gaze dropped back to her hands. “I’m back at school—that’s why I moved home again—studying for my stage management degree. Before that I was a travel consultant.” She grinned. “A really bad travel consultant.”

“Why bad?” Sarah asked.

A shrug. “I’m no salesman. If people don’t want to go somewhere, I’m not going to try and persuade them otherwise. It’s their money, after all.” There was a slightly defiant tilt to the set of Shelby’s jaw, almost as if she was daring Sarah to challenge her position.

“Sounds like you did the right thing getting out of the business,” Sarah said, noting her client’s almost immediate softening of her body language. Looks like I passed another test there. “Was it difficult moving back in with your parents?”

Another shrug. “They were happy about it,” Shelby said, not answering the question. “And I needed the help, financially, so I guess it’s for the best.” The young woman’s downcast eyes and flattened tone told a different story, however. Sarah waited, tossing up between asking another question and her instinct that Shelby was close to telling her more. “It’s been a bit of a pain in the ass.”

“You enjoyed your independence.” More a statement than a question.

“Yes. I liked being able to do what I wanted, when I wanted.” There was that spark of intelligent rebellion in the brown eyes again.

“And you can’t now that you’re back at home?”

“Not without an argument,” Shelby muttered, her eyes again avoiding Sarah’s. “Or lying.” The therapist waited, keeping her face and body language attentive. “I … um … I think … I might be, um, gay.”

Now we’re getting somewhere, Sarah thought. “And you think your parents might not be supportive?”

Shelby nodded slowly, and then seemed to change her mind. “I don’t really know, anymore. They, um, they caught me. With a woman – well, girl, really. When I was 17. I’ve had a couple of boyfriends since, though. Nothing that lasted more than a few dates.”

“And how did your parents react to you being with a woman?”

Shelby sighed and looked out the window, her gaze far away and sad. “It was a bit of a nightmare,” she said eventually. “My mother would walk into the room, look at me, burst in to tears and then run away. And then I would catch my dad just staring at me.” She looked back at Sarah. “That went on for about six weeks until I couldn’t stand it any longer and told them that my girlfriend and I had broken up.” Her eyes flicked downward again.

“And had you?” Sarah asked.

A cheeky grin told her the answer to that even before Shelby answered, and Sarah found herself smiling back. “Uh, no,” Shelby admitted. “We pretty much snuck around behind our parents’ backs for another six months or so until I turned 18 and moved out.”

“And then what happened?”

“Oh you know how it goes.” Shelby sighed. “Bliss for a while. Girl meets girl, girl loves girl, girl meets man of her dreams who just happens to look like the other girl, girl loses girl.” Her wry smile spoke volumes.

Sarah watched as a range of emotions took their turn crossing Shelby’s face. She’s smart, this one, she thought. Smart and sensitive and a world expert at keeping her emotions at a distance, using whatever she can. Humor for instance.

“Tell me more about your parents,” she suggested.

Shelby looked at her directly. “Is this the part where you tell me I’m gay because my mother didn’t breastfeed me?”

Sarah laughed softly. “Nope. I’d just like a clearer picture of them. What do they do?”

“Dad’s a mathematics professor at the university, and Mum’s a high school English teacher.”

“So, a couple of intellectuals.”

Shelby nodded slowly. “Dad, sure. Mum not so much, but only because she doesn’t think she’s smart enough, I think. She sure knows her literature, though. She could talk for hours about Christopher Marlowe.” She looked at Sarah again. “I hate Marlowe.”

“Me too,” Sarah agreed. “I was more of a John Donne fan.”

“Yes!” Shelby exclaimed. “‘She’s all states, and all princes, I.’”

“‘Nothing else is,’” Sarah responded.

I like her, Shelby decided in that instant.

“Have you talked to your parents since then about your sexuality?” Sarah asked, refocusing the conversation.

Shelby shook her head. “The only real conversation we’ve ever had about that time was about trust.” Sarah cocked her head as if she was about to ask for clarification. “At the time,” Shelby expanded, “they said the thing that hurt them the most was that I lied to them. And they said it would take a while before they trusted me again. That’s one of the reasons I moved out as soon as I could.”

“And since you moved back home?”

Shelby sighed. “They want to know where I’m going, when I’m going to be home and who I’m going out with.” She looked at Sarah and shrugged in resignation. “I can’t stand the thought of hurting them again, so I usually I stay away from my usual … um … haunts.”

“And what are they?”

“Um … gay clubs … bars … hangouts … you know.”

“So if you’re staying away from them, you must be staying away from your friends as well.”

Another shrug. “Well, a few go to school with me, so I get to catch up during the day,” Shelby answered. “But, yeah. And … well, I guess I’ve learned a few golden rules about lying, so I’m better at than I used to be.” Encouraged by Sarah’s interested look, she went on. “First rule is, when in doubt, tell the truth. Second rule is, if you can’t tell the truth, keep the lie simple. Third rule is, if you can’t keep it simple, for Christ’s sake write it down so you can keep your story straight later.” Sarah chuckled. “Rules to live by.” A glance at her watch told Shelby that the end of the session was rapidly approaching. “So what do you think? Am I nuts?”

“No, you’re not nuts,” Sarah responded. “But I think you would benefit from coming and talking with me again. Maybe in a couple of weeks. Would you like to do that?”

Shelby took a couple of seconds to think about it, but then nodded. “Yes, I think so. You seem pretty nice.” She grinned at the therapist, who smiled back.

“Why, thank you. I try to be,” Sarah said wryly. Both women stood and shook hands. “It was nice to meet you, Shelby. Talk to my receptionist about booking another appointment.”

“Will do. And thanks.”

“No problem. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Sarah sat back down at her desk and flipped open Shelby’s file as she reached for a pen. Quickly she jotted down some notes while the session was still fresh in her mind.

Only child, boundary issues, enmeshed with her parents, she wrote. Says she ‘might be gay’, but that’s not the real issue. Self-esteem. Parents intellectualize. Emotions kept at arm’s length.

***************************

Shelby buckled her full-face helmet under her chin and swung her leg over her pride and joy, a shiny, brand new Suzuki GS500E. It had been her first major buy with the money she had saved from her year working and was her first true love. Her parents hated it, of course, and had tried to make Shelby’s return home conditional on the bike’s demise. On that Shelby had had a rare win, however. Another fine reason for buying it.

Once astride the bike, Shelby quickly zipped up her leather jacket, flicked back the kick stand with her heel and keyed the ignition. The throaty roar filled her ears as the engine vibrated between her thighs.

I think this is going to work out pretty well, she thought as she pulled out of the parking garage and slid into the traffic. A human being over 35 worth talking to. There’s a revolutionary thought.

**************************

The young woman sitting across from her looked so miserable Sarah could almost feel the ache herself. She and Shelby had developed a good working relationship over the past six months. Shelby had learned to trust the therapist to the point where she was comfortable making herself as open as possible. They talked about anything and everything and gradually, over the months, Shelby’s deep-seated loneliness and insecurities had come to the surface under Sarah’s gentle coaxing. Quite apart from the positive regard she showed around all her clients, Sarah liked the younger woman. Shelby was intellectually her equal, funny, open and willing to learn, and she showed a social conscience that resonated with many of Sarah’s own beliefs and values.

Shelby also had a classic case of transference brewing. Those big, brown eyes are telling that tale in spades, Sarah thought as Shelby’s adoring gaze tracked hers. Right now her client was depressed and down on herself in a big way, making her supremely vulnerable and needy. Sarah was about her only source of comfort and reassurance and that put the therapist at the top of Shelby’s hit parade. A dangerous place to be if I’m not careful, Sarah contemplated. Especially as I care a lot about her. I need to be careful to do the things she needs me to do, not the things I need to do.

They had spent a good part of the last few months trying to find ways of helping Shelby to enforce more boundaries with her over-present parents. That had culminated in a conversation with them in which Shelby had come as close as she ever had to outing herself. But not close enough for her.

“I don’t think I did a very good job of it,” she said.

“I disagree,” Sarah replied. “You told them what you needed and you got them to agree to it.”

“But I didn’t … I didn’t tell them the most important thing.”

“I don’t think being specific about your sexuality was the most important thing,” Sarah countered. “It sounds to me like you made it pretty clear, even if you didn’t actually say the words.” Shelby continued to watch herself shredding a tissue, sniffling slightly. I need to be sitting closer to her, Sarah realized. Is that what she needs? Yes.

Abruptly she stood and pulled her chair closer to Shelby, close enough to touch her. Shelby smiled through the tears that were trailing down her cheeks.

“Now I know I’m in trouble,” she joked wanly, surprised to see the usually reserved therapist moving inside her personal space. When Sarah took her hand and squeezed it gently Shelby felt a deep sense of comfort. She squeezed back. “When you start holding my hand, things must be serious.”

Sarah smiled. “Sometimes you need it,” she replied. “And there is such a thing as counter-transference, you know.” Shelby tilted her head quizzically, inviting Sarah to explain. Shelby was completely fascinated by the whole process of therapy. It made for some interesting conversations as both client and therapist learned about each other. And if it helps her to learn to overcome her depression, then I’m all for it, Sarah thought. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell whether you need me to comfort you, or if it’s just me needing to comfort you.”

“Does it matter?” Shelby asked.

“Not especially,” Sarah replied. “As long as we keep talking about it and recognize it for what it is.”

Shelby rested her head against the back of her chair, enjoying the warm feel of Sarah’s fingers against hers. “I can’t wait to not be your client anymore.”

“Well, there’s a ringing endorsement,” Sarah teased.

“You know what I mean,” Shelby retorted. “Do you think we’d be friends if we met outside this place?”

“I’m a terrible friend,” Sarah said. “I’m anti-social. My friends don’t hear from me for months and when they do I never want to do anything exciting.”

Shelby grinned, recognizing that the therapist had done a good job of not answering her question, but understanding the reasons for the evasion. “You work too hard.”

“So people keep telling me,” Sarah agreed.

“You love it, though.”

Sarah nodded. “Now. That was a good little distraction. Shall we get back to work?”

************************

“What happened to you?” Sarah asked. Shelby hobbled towards her awkwardly, the younger woman’s face a picture of concentration as she negotiated the obstacles of Sarah’s office on crutches.

“Came off the bike,” she muttered as she lowered herself down into a chair. “Broke my ankle, took some skin off my leg.”

Sarah winced as she took her place opposite Shelby. “I’m sorry about that. How long till the plaster comes off?” She looked down at the cast, its once white surface covered in a variety of signatures and drawings. Not too mention ribald limericks, she thought as she read one offering quickly.

“Another three weeks on crutches, then another two or three before the cast comes off,” Shelby replied. She slumped back in the chair and rubbed her eyes tiredly.

“What did you hit?” Sarah asked. “Or did something hit you?”

“Just the road. It was raining and I took a corner a bit too fast, and lost the back end.” Shelby glared at Sarah, whose face was a picture of patience, a tiny smile touching the corners of her mouth. “Oh, go on, say it. You know you want to. Everybody else in my life is, so you might as well have a go.”

“What are they saying?”

“You know damn well what. Sell the bike, Shelby. Sell the damn bike.” Sarah looked back, placidly. “How many years have I been riding that bike, Sarah? Five?”

“Mmmm I think so, yes. You told me once that you bought it just before you first came to see me.”

“That’s right. And how many times have I come off the damn thing in all that time?”

“Twice,” Sarah replied promptly. “At least, they’re the ones you’ve told me about.” For the first time Shelby looked a little sheepish.

“Okay, all right – four times altogether. But the other two I didn’t get hurt. Well, not so’s you’d notice to look at me, at least.”

Sarah chuckled. “So what conclusion are you drawing from this?”

A long, drawn-out sigh was her answer. “I was thinking of selling it anyway,” Shelby admitted finally. “I’m getting too old to be a biker chick.”

“Yes, grandma. What are you now? All of 27?”

“Oh shut up.”

For long seconds they just grinned, enjoying each other’s company.

“So, apart from showing off your terribly romantically broken bones, what brings you in to see me?” Sarah finally asked. “It’s been a while.”

“It has.” Shelby shrugged. “Just my twice-yearly oil change, I guess.” She smiled. “Plus, I have news.”

“Tell me do.”

“I … um … I met someone.” Shelby couldn’t have kept the twinkle out of her eye if she’d been paid a million dollars to do so.

“And by the look on your face, I’m guessing it’s someone important.”

Shelby nodded. “Her name’s Amanda. She’s a teacher. She’s my age. Smart, funny, and she thinks I’m sexy.” She grinned again.

“So she has good taste then?” Sarah felt a warm sense of happiness for her client, who had endured a series of truly ordinary relationships over the years. Early days, though. Play it cool.

“Of course. She’s with me, isn’t she?”

“So, when did you meet? How?”

“Two months ago, and she came to the show I was managing at the Arts Centre. She knew one of the chorus girls and came back for a drink after the show. But the silly bitch left Amanda standing when someone suggested a party somewhere. And I rode in.”

“On your big white charger, no doubt?”

“No, my large red, shiny motorbike, but the effect was much the same,” Shelby replied, shrugging her shoulders jauntily. “How could she possibly resist?”

“Indeed.” Sarah laughed quietly, sharing Shelby’s bubbly mood. “So where are you at?”

Shelby blew out a long breath. “We’re about to move in together.”

“Wow.” The therapist raised an eyebrow.

“I know, I know. But we’re lesbians, Doc. Be grateful we didn’t do the U-Haul thing in the first week. In a way we’re playing against type.” She grinned.

“This is a big move for you,” Sarah said, seriously.

Shelby nodded, following the therapist’s lead. “I know. But …” She hesitated, knowing she was about to say something she’d never said before. “This is special. I think … I think she might be the one I’m supposed to be with.”

l, that’s a first, Sarah thought. Uncharted territory.

*********************

Sarah ran a finger down the list of appointments. Nothing really caught her eye until her last client of the day. Shelby. Something must be up. She was only here a couple of weeks ago. Visits from one of her favorite clients had been few and far between over the past six years – in fact there had been a couple of years where contact had amounted to a quick hello phone call at Christmas. Shelby seemed to have found what she needed from being in a long-term relationship. Something that made therapy unnecessary.

And that’s a good thing, Sarah thought wryly, recognizing that somewhere inside she had missed Shelby. That’s what it’s all about. Help people learn to be happy. Still … she glanced down at the appointment list again … A session so soon after the last one probably means trouble.

She’d didn’t have long to think about it, however, as the first of the day’s clients walked into reception. Shelby’s problems would have to wait.

Nine hours later Sarah scribbled a quick note on the file of her departing, penultimate client. Her stomach rumbled annoyingly mid-sentence. I’d better do something about that or Shelby won’t be able to hear herself think over the racket.

She walked out the door of her office to find her receptionist packing up the books in preparation for leaving. Shelby was in a chair in a corner of the waiting-room. Her long legs were tucked up against her chest, her cheek resting on her knee, the picture of misery. Uh-oh. Sarah walked quietly over and touched her fingertips to Shelby’s sleek, dark head.

“Hi,” Shelby said flatly, not moving.

“I just need to grab a glass of water, then I’ll come get you, okay?” Sarah said softly, ruffling the soft hair.

“’k.”

Quickly, Sarah walked into the private kitchen behind reception, closing the door behind her. Her hunger had been overtaken by a gnawing ache that she recognized as empathy for Shelby. But she opened the fridge and pulled out her sandwich anyway, forcing herself to take two minutes to consume a few bites, knowing that her body needed it, even if she didn’t think so.

As soon as she was done she moved back into the reception area. Shelby hadn’t moved and the misery was washing off the younger woman in waves.

“Come on in,” Sarah said, standing at the doorway of her office. She watched as Shelby uncurled herself from the chair, almost painfully. The brunette didn’t meet her eyes as she walked past and Sarah followed her in, closing the door behind them.

Sarah took her seat, watching as Shelby settled into her chair, her eyes still lowered and her posture one of total defeat. For long seconds silence reigned.

“She left me.”

The whisper was almost inaudible but Sarah felt the impact. Shelby’s face crumpled as the last word passed her lips and the therapist was hard-pressed to stop herself from taking the younger woman in her arms. Let her dictate the conversation, Sarah. Let her. It was hard.

Tears coursed down Shelby’s face now, but she still held her emotions in check with almost painful intensity. “Yesterday. I c-came home and half the stuff in the house was g-gone. All her c-clothes. She … she left a note on the c-coffee table.” Shelby’s breath hitched.

“What did the note say?” Sarah prompted. She could feel herself almost holding her breath, anticipating the swelling emotion threatening to break free from her client.

For a second Shelby couldn’t speak. Her eyes closed and she bit her bottom lip as she waited for the wave of pain to pass. “She met someone … else. Didn’t say who it is, but I think I know.” Sarah waited. “We met her a few weeks ago at a party. They were pretty flirty, but I didn’t really think about it at the time.”

“And this note was the first sign of trouble?”

Shelby nodded. “I thought … I thought things were going really well. It was our sixth anniversary last week.”

“Mhmm, I remember,” Sarah said softly. “Did the note say anything else?” It was hard to believe Amanda, whom she had met a couple of times and had seemed a reasonable human being, would end things so suddenly.

Shelby’s eyes focused on her fingers, which played aimlessly with the drawstring of her sweat pants. “She apologized. Left a phone number so we can talk when I’m ready to.” She ran a hand through her hair listlessly. “I don’t think she really wants me to call, though.”

“Why do you think that?”

For the first time brown eyes lifted to meet Sarah’s gaze. “Because if she wanted to talk about it, she wouldn’t have bothered with a fucking note. She would have hung around and had the decency to talk to me about it in person. Don’t you think?” There was venom in Shelby’s tone and Sarah nodded, knowing the anger wasn’t directed at her.

“Yes, I do think that.”

“I must have done something wrong, Sarah.” Now Shelby’s pleading eyes didn’t leave the therapist’s for a moment, compelling their connection to hold. “Mustn’t I? What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why? … I don’t understand why ….” The dam burst and Shelby began sobbing helplessly, her face buried in her hands. For a few seconds, Sarah felt the pain so deeply her own eyes closed, but then she refocused on Shelby. Quietly she picked up the box of tissues on her desk and offered them. Once Shelby took a handful, Sarah moved her chair closer and took the younger woman’s hand.

“I feel sick,” Shelby muttered.

“Mhmm. Do you want a glass of water?”

A shake of the head. “I don’t know what to feel, Sarah. I can’t believe she’s gone.”

“I don’t think you should expect yourself to feel one thing or another, at this point. Just let yourself be whatever you are.” There was a pause as Shelby dabbed at her eyes. “What did you do after you read the note?”

“I tried to call her. But she wasn’t answering. And then …” She dropped her eyes. “Then I drove around to Michelle’s place.” A look up. “That’s her name … Michelle.” She almost spat it out. “But there was nobody there … so I went home again.”

“And then?”

“Then I had a glass of Scotch.”

Sarah nodded. “Understandable.”

“Every half-hour. Till dawn.”

“Ah.” Sarah suppressed a tiny smile. Even miserable Shelby had a sense of comic timing that was virtually unstoppable. It was endearing, but often a hindrance to getting to her real emotions. Which of course is why she does it. She looks exhausted. “Did you get any sleep at all?”

“I waited till I could call here to get an appointment, then I crashed.”

Sarah pulled Shelby’s focus back to her. “I’m going to be incredibly boring and suggest that tonight you try and get some sleep rather than drinking.”

Shelby nodded. “I’ve run out of Scotch, so, okay.”

“Mmm, I think that’s a good thing.”

There was a pause and Sarah could see Shelby’s eyes focus on the far distance. She looked so lost Shelby felt a pang of sympathy. “Where did you just go?” she asked softly after a while.

“What am I going to do without her?”

***************************

“Hello.” Joe smiled up at his wife as she walked in the door.

“Hello.” Sarah tossed her briefcase wearily on the chair and slumped down on the sofa next to him. She dropped her head on his shoulder, eliciting a raised eyebrow from her husband.

“Tough day?” He took her hand between both of his and rubbed some warmth back into it.

“Good guess,” Sarah mumbled.

“Want to tell me?” Joe knew that for the most part Sarah was adept at dealing with all that her work threw at her. He also knew that talking all day was apt to render her monosyllabic in her off hours. But many years of practice also told him when to ask.

“Shelby,” she said, simply. Joe nodded slowly, knowing the young woman was one of Sarah’s favorites. “Her girlfriend left her yesterday. Rather brutally.”

“Not that there’s really a nice way of doing it,” Joe said quietly, his faint Scottish brogue music to her ears, as usual.

“No. But it was on the brutal end of the spectrum.”

“How’s she doing?”

Sarah sighed and pushed herself upright again, rubbing her eyes wearily. “Oh, she’s in about a thousand pieces.”

“But fixable?”

Sarah smiled back at him, more happy than she could say to have his warm familiarity waiting for her at the end of the day. “Always fixable,” she said, leaning in to kiss him softly. “Doesn’t mean it’s not hurting like hell right now, though.”

“Mhmm, I know.” He patted her cheek gently. “You really like this one.”

Sarah nodded. “I always have. She’s got something I really connect with. Potential?” She shrugged. “I’m not really sure I know the exact words for it.”

Joe chuckled softly. “You ready for some dinner, wife?”

“Oh yes. And a very large glass of white wine, please.”

“Your wish is my command, m’lady.”

********************************

The two women faced each other. While Sarah was in her usual upright posture, Shelby was sprawled and relaxed, long legs stretched out in front of her, crossed at the ankles. She rested her head on her hand as the conversation lulled for a moment. They were about halfway through a two-hour session, the last of Sarah’s working day. And she was delighted to see one of her favorite clients.

“It’s good to see you face-to-face,” she said quietly, smiling at Shelby.

“Likewise,” came the reply and the answering grin.

For months they had been conducting their sessions by phone, and while they knew each other well enough to make that work most of the time, there were moments when Sarah had really needed to see Shelby’s emotions, and she was sure her client felt the same.

“I wish we could do it this way more often,” she said.

“I could make more of an effort,” Shelby agreed. “But the hours I’m working are too weird. And when you’re available, I’m usually asleep.”

Sarah nodded. “I know. Anyway, I’m glad you’re here today.”

It had been a strange year, in many ways, for Shelby. Since the break-up of her long-term relationship she had been by turns vulnerable, lonely, in love with a straight friend, and miserable at the go-nowhereness of the relationships she seemed to form with women. The result had been a long series of weekly sessions on the phone, but this was the second time in a row Shelby had managed to make it into Sarah’s office.

The silence stretched a little longer and Shelby knew from experience that the psychologist was just waiting for her to push the conversation wherever she wanted it to go.

“I’ve noticed something lately, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve been here so it’s more obvious to me, or if it’s actually something that’s changed,” she said, shifting around to face Sarah more squarely.

“What have you noticed?” Sarah asked.

“You’ve been much more personal with me … No, that’s not quite what I mean. You’ve related things back to your experience more than usual.” Shelby sighed. “No, that’s not even it, either, because you’ve always done that if you’ve thought it would help me process stuff.”

“I think I’ve related to how you’ve been feeling more than usual lately,” Sarah acknowledged.

Shelby nodded. “You’ve said some things to me over the last few sessions that have meant a lot.” She paused, suddenly wondering what it was she was trying to say exactly. It wasn’t like Sarah didn’t know what she was thinking. Maybe it just all comes down to how I’ve been feeling lately, she thought. Like I’m rapidly running out of people who understand me.

“Where do you feel like you fit in?” Sarah asked, as if reading Shelby’s mind.

The answer was surprisingly close to the tip of her tongue. “I don’t think I fit in anywhere,” Shelby said, her gaze fixed on the toe of her shoe. “I seem to play a role no matter where I am or who I’m with.” She flicked a glance and a wry smile at Sarah. “Except with you. I’m more myself with you than anywhere else or with anyone else in my life.”

“Because I don’t judge you?”

“It’s not just that, Doc. You show me bits of yourself and even though I know that’s part of the way you choose to ‘treat’ me, I also know that they are true parts of you.”

There was a pause as Sarah looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap. "Sometimes I tell you things I wouldn’t ever tell anyone else.”

Shelby was stunned. It was something she had never expected to hear. “Really?”

“Really.”

Shelby felt the sting of unexpected tears. “Why do you think that is?” she asked after clearing her throat.

“I don’t feel like I fit in very often either,” Sarah replied quietly, meeting Shelby’s gaze. “I don’t connect with many people very well. I think that’s why you and I have such interesting conversations.”

“We have that in common.”

“Yes.”

“It’s lonely.”

Sarah held the younger woman’s gaze and nodded slightly. “It can be, yes.”

“But you have Joe.”

Sarah tore her eyes away and gazed out the window at the clear blue skies beyond the walls of her office. “If it helps you any … we’ve talked many times about Joe, and you know that he’s quite ill.” Shelby nodded, watching Sarah’s faraway look. “He’s not going to be around forever.”

“Mhm, I know.”

“Sometimes I think about how I will live my life after he’s gone. And all I know is that it will be very much alone.”

It was said so calmly, almost casually, and yet Shelby understood that it was far from a casual statement. “Does that bother you?” she asked around the lump in her throat.

“Most of the time, no.”

There was another moment of silence, but Shelby’s thoughts were racing. “This is going to sound arrogant and presumptuous … but …” Shelby hesitated, unsure of just how big a presumption she was about to make.

“Go on.”

Shelby sighed. “When it does bother you, I think I’ll be one of the people you can call.”

Sarah’s face relaxed into a smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. “Yes, I think you will be.”

Shelby let go the long breath she had been holding. A tension she hadn’t been aware of suddenly released and judging by the relaxation of her therapist’s posture, Sarah had been feeling it too.

“We’re just about done here, aren’t we?” Shelby asked quietly.

“We still have about half an hour left,” Sarah replied.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

Stopping therapy had been on the agenda several times in the 12 years they had been talking, but it had never been a palatable prospect for Shelby. The thought of being without Sarah’s regular presence in her life wasn’t one she had ever relished. But this … this felt very different.

“I don’t think we’d be having this conversation if I was going to be your client after this session,” she said quietly.

“That’s not why I said the things I did,” Sarah reassured.

“No, I know that. I just meant that we’re at a point where we can both be ourselves.”

“Mhm.”

Shelby leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and gazing pensively at the floor between her feet, “I’m going to miss you for a while,” she said eventually.

“And I’ll miss you for a while, as well.” Sarah’s voice was soft and gentle, and Shelby closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of the emotion and understanding between them. “But it won’t be forever.”

“How will I know when enough time has passed?” Shelby asked.

“We’ll both know when it happens, would be my guess.”

Shelby laughed. “You say that like you’ve never done this before,” she said.

An answering chuckle. “I don’t think I have, quite like this, Shelby. As usual, you are proving to be a unique experience.”

They both laughed. “Likewise, I’m sure.”

With that Shelby knew exactly what to do. She pushed up off her thighs and stood up. She reached a hand down and pulled Sarah to her feet. “The sooner we start this, the sooner it will be done and we can have a chat and a glass of wine.” She held the older woman’s gaze for a long second. “Thank you for everything.”

Sarah kept hold of Shelby’s hand, squeezing the long fingers gently. “It’s been a pleasure.” Then she did something rare, and to Shelby, precious. Sarah leaned in and dropped a soft kiss on Shelby’s cheek. “Take care of yourself, honey.”

“I know how to do that now, thanks to you.”

Sarah shrugged. “You did the hard stuff. I just nudged you now and then.”

A nod of acknowledgement. “Until later, then?”

“Yes.”

“Take care, Sarah.”

“You too.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

It wasn’t until hours later that Shelby realized she was completely at peace with the decision they had both made. It felt utterly right.