Page 39 of Keeping the Score

Her lips curve. “I see that. But are you really mad?”

My forehead tightens. “Yeah.”

“Usually anger starts with something else.” She looks back at Tilly. “Why are you wearing pajamas to a baby shower, young lady? You need to dress up!”

I screw up my face at that. “Shit.”

“It’s fine. I’m kidding. Sort of.”

Tilly is staring at Andi, somewhat calmer. I shove a hand into my hair and cross the living room again.

“So what else is it?” she asks.

I huff. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah, you do. Think about it.”

“I feel pressured.”

She nods. “Are you afraid?”

I narrow my eyes. “Afraid of what?”

She looks at me steadily. “Not being in control?”

I gaze back at her. “Shit.”

“That’s what it really is, isn’t it? You want to be in control. And they took that away from you.”

I roll my eyes as I pace the room.

“They’re just trying to help,” she says. “They care about you. I think that’s so nice of them to do that.”

“Yeah. It is.”

“They’re good friends.”

“They should know I don’t like surprises.”

“They probably didn’t think about that. After all, it’s a nice surprise. Not a bad surprise.”

“Like having a baby show up at your door.”

“Yes, like that. But even that’s not all bad. Look at this sweetheart.”

I exhale sharply. “Yeah.” Some of the tension in my shoulders eases as I regard Tilly.

“Don’t let your need for control and perfection cause you to miss out on things. Happy things like a baby shower. Those things are important.”

I go mannequin-still and stare at the wall. Jesus. She’s right. I know that. I just didn’t… get it.

“Where does this need for control come from?” she asks quietly, neutrally.

I almost spill my guts. But I don’t need to tell her about my whole weird childhood. “I just like order. Stability.”

“Right.” She purses her lips, then says, “Breathe. You’ve got this.”

I try to moderate my breathing. Yeah. I can do this.

---