Page 113 of Riding the Pine

“Mmm?”

“You okay?” She purses her lips like she’s assessing me.

I nod. “Just lost in my thoughts a little.”

She nods back. “I know how that goes. Therapy did a number on you this morning, huh?” She may not be back at one hundred percent, but she’s not stupid, and she doesn’t miss a beat.

Before I can answer, Ares pushes back from the table. “Me too. Fucking therapy. Everyone talks about how good it is for you, but no one ever tells you how much fucking work it is.”

Apollo waves his fork at no one in particular. “Right? The homework is such a ball ache. Like, can’t I just throw money at someone to make my brain not fucked up?”

Athena snickers. “Riiiiight. Like there’s a sum of money on earth that could make that happen.”

“You walked into that, hermano.” Artemis has already had two plates of food, and he’s going back to the impromptu buffet on the counter for a third round. He’s not even wearing stretchy pants. Guy’s my fuckin’ hero.

“Always with the wise-assing.” Apollo’s fork is now pointing at Athena.

Gabriella and Abuelita stay quiet, but they’re both watching the exchange with amused expressions on their faces.

“Is it mature? No. Is it who I am? Yes, and I accept this.” Athena flips her hair over her shoulder. “You should also expect it by now, querido hermano.”

When everyone turns their attention back to their plates, Athena bumps me again with her foot. “Anything you want to talk about? I know therapy is a very personal thing, but if you need to talk, you know I’m always here.”

The weight of Artemis’s stare on my face telling me he feels the same way makes me look at him. “I know. It’s nothing.” At least nothing I’m going to talk about in front of Gabriella and Abuelita.

“Movie?” Athena has barely touched the food on her plate. But barely is better than not at all, so I’ll accept her efforts as progress and try not to worry about the fact my girlfriend is disappearing in front of my eyes.

“Absolutely.” I scoop the last of my food into my mouth and stand, moving to put the plate in the dishwasher. “Thanks so much for lunch.” I pat my stomach. “You saved me from an early death.”

Athena pushes back from the long, wooden table. “So dramatic.” She reaches a hand in my direction, and it strikes me hownormalthis all is. It’s like nothing has changed, and yet, Athena is holding my hand. Everything has changed, but the way her family simply accept this as part of everyday life warms my chest.

“You want to pick?” She casts a smile back over her shoulder. We both know she’s going to pass out in my arms and sleep like the dead.

A shiver snakes up my spine. Still too soon. The thought she could have died, and the flash of her lying there like a broken doll on the grass has me pulling her to me to kiss her forehead.

“I’m happy to pick.” I kiss her again.

“What is it?” She studies my face like a scholar.

“Just did some self-worth work today at therapy. It’s hard to believe it all, you know?”

She tugs me into the den, closing the door over halfway behind us. “It’s hard to believe self-worth?”

I nod, rubbing at the back of my neck with my palm. “My entrenched core beliefs about how I’m not good enough, or how I’m going to end up like my family members… that shit runs deep. It’s not something I’m just going to sneeze, and it’ll be magically fixed.”

She turns to face me head on, taking both my hands in hers, letting them hang between us. “Starting is the hardest part. Letting yourself believe that first little bit, grasping the thread, that’s the worst of it. Once you commit to the idea that you’re not the piece of shit you think you are, it gets a little easier each time.”

She speaks to me like she knows where I’m coming from. “It doesn’t matter what the core belief is, the process is the same. You just have to get your finger stuck into it and then grab it with another finger and another until you have one hand around it, then work on grabbing it with both hands. It’ll take time but being aware of it and working to break down those childhood beliefs… it’s worth every second of therapy, Scottie. You’ll get there.”

The way she speaks with such conviction tells me I have a zero percent chance of failing.

“And any time you might doubt your new belief system, just ask me, or my butthead brothers.” She tips her head to the side. “Or even Mamá, she told me you’re a good man, too. We allsee what you don’t. Sometimes that’s the most frustrating part of everything. The person who needs to see it most doesn’t and spends time and energy and money in therapy to learn how to see something the rest of us see with little effort.”

She tugs me toward the couch, guiding both of us to sit, then snuggles into me. “You’re doing the hard thing, Scott Raine, and it’ll serve you well. But you have to open your heart to truly believing you’re worthy.” She yawns. “And not just because we all say so, but because you feel it.”

She taps my heart. “In here.”

And as she falls into a restful sleep on my chest, I think I’ve found the end of the thread she was talking about, and I’m ready to grab onto it with both hands.

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