Page 57 of Keeping the Score

“What do you mean? Why did I work a lot?”

“Yeah.”

That makes me think. “Well. I loved my job. I wanted to do well at it.”

“Uh huh. Why?”

“Because…” I have to ponder that, too. Why was it so important to me? Why was winning that award so important? Because I’d taken some hits to the self-esteem, and I wanted to feel good about myself. But when Trevor and I were married…“Well, partly because I had to. I was supporting Trevor and me. He started to make a little money playing ball, but it took a long time for him to break into the big leagues and make real money.”

Ford nods.

“And I guess it was an esteem issue,” I add quietly. “It always seemed like his career was the priority. He was a good athlete, and talented. Maybe not the best ball player in the world, but he worked his butt off, too, and… athletes get a lot of attention, and…” I trail off. “I wanted to be good and talented at something, too.”

I’ve never really articulated that. I did go for some therapy after the divorce, but I think it was almost too soon. I was still too angry and resentful to be able to look deep inside myself.

“But it worked out okay, because I have a great career,” I add.

His lips twitch. “You always see the bright side.”

I lift one shoulder. “I try.” I pause. “Sometimes too much, maybe.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well…” I look down at my hands. “Sometimes I think being too optimistic and too loyal kept me from seeing who Trevor really was.”

“Ah.” His jaw sets as he looks ahead out the windshield. “Anything else you’re afraid of?”

I roll my bottom lip between my teeth. Having talked about my fear that I caused Trevor to lose interest in me makes it less scary. Now… what I’m most afraid of is falling in love again. And losing it. Again. Being rejected… again. Trusting the wrong person. Again.

But I can’t say those things. Those are too scary. And so, like Ford, I make light of it. “Peeping Toms.”

He chokes. “What?”

“Peeping Toms. I always have to have the blinds or curtains shut at night because I’m afraid there’s someone out there watching me.”

“Has that happened?” His voice sharpens.

“No.” I shake my head. “I think it came from a movie I watched as a kid.”

“Huh.”

“So since you’ve never had a real relationship, I guess you don’t believe in soulmates.”

“Where are these questions coming from?”

“I’m just making conversation! We’re sitting in this car driving around, we might as well have a conversation. Do you believe in soulmates?”

Again, he takes his time answering. “I believe in them for other people.”

I tilt my head. “But not for yourself?”

“Well, I haven’t experienced it yet. But I’ve seen buddies fall in love and absolutely lose their minds over a woman. Like Benny and Mabel. They’re so different, and yet they found something together that goes deeper than just being introverted or extroverted. I guess that’s a soulmate?” He shakes his head. “But my soul is freaky.”

I laugh. “Oh my God.”

He lifts one shoulder, flicks the turn signal and brakes to slow down.

“You’re not a freak,” I say. “Maybe a little eccentric.”

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