Page 34 of Scout Takes the Lead
Alex and Scout finished out the program. Of course, they did a great job, and I wished I could have shown the rest of the class the other skills Scout was developing. I was sure that his connection to Alex was going to be a long one that would benefit them both. Alex would get the care he needed and Scout would get the satisfaction of serving a purpose.
I handed everyone the graduation certificates I had printed up before the session. “Feel free to call me if you run into any problems,” I said.
After class, Alex hung around as usual, and I was glad, because I had follow-up plan for him. “I have a friend I’d like you to meet,” I said to Alex. “A former training client.”
“Really? Someone with a dog Scout can play with?”
“Well, she’s actually a behavioral therapist,” I said. “She teaches at FIU but she lives in Hollywood and she has a few clients she works with.”
Alex shook his head. “I told you, I tried therapy and it wasn’t for me. I’m making the progress I want with Scout.”
“I know, you and he are great together. But I think there’s more work you need to do, and I’m not capable of training you on my own.”
“Is that what we’ve been doing?” Alex asked. I could see him adopting a very defensive body position, his shoulders tucked in and his spine straight. “You’ve been training me? Does that involve sex as well as working with my dog?”
“You know what I mean.” Scout was alert beside Alex, his head up toward his master. I had a sudden flash. Was I trying to change Alex for myself? Or for him? Did I just want to make him a good boyfriend, one who I didn’t have to be afraid of?
Alex’s voice was grim. “No, I’m afraid I don’t,” he said. “I thought we were friends, and maybe developing into something more. I didn’t realize I was just a client to you.” He was being deliberately obtuse and I didn’t appreciate it.
I mimicked his stance, though because I was shorter it didn’t have the same effect. “Alex, you know you’re more than just a client.
He shrugged. “I am who I am.”
Then he grabbed Scout’s lead and walked off.
Well, that didn’t go well. I realized that I hadn’t anticipated Alex’s resistance, which probably meant we didn’t know each other well enough to jump into a deep relationship, no matter how much either of us wanted it. I called Becca and told her I needed an emergency afternoon cocktail. We met at a little bar on the Broadwalk, and once I had a margarita in my hand, I said, “I think Alex broke up with me this morning.”
“You think?”
“We argued about what was happening between us. Was he a friend or a client? He got very argumentative, and I told him he was a jerk. He said he was who he was, and he walked off.” I looked out at the ocean, the waves pushing relentlessly against the beach, the palm fronds swaying lazily in the breeze. So many happy-looking couples and families out there, enjoying the sunshine. Why couldn’t I find a good man I could accept for who he was?
“You knew from the moment you met Alex that he had problems,” Becca said. “So this can’t be a huge surprise.”
“But I thought we were getting along so well.” I turned to her, so I didn’t have to see all those happy families. I told her about the dollhouse. “I mean, isn’t that sweet? The two of us working together, for something he’s going to donate to charity when he finishes?”
“Sweet moments don’t equal a life together,” Becca said. “There are always bad ones in between. How you react to those determines if you get more of the sweet ones.”
“And he reacted by telling me off and walking out. That’s not a good sign.”
“Again, you don’t know him that well, Grace. Is this the way he reacts to every problem? If so, then you’ve learned that early.”
She picked up her drink and sipped. “But maybe he’s the kind of guy who needs to think about things, and you blindsided him by suggesting he go to a therapist. You could have worked up to that more slowly. This woman is your client, isn’t she?” I nodded. “So I’m just saying, you could have arranged for the three of you to meet. Talk about dogs. Then gradually introduce the fact that she’s a therapist and see how Alex reacts. He might have gotten angry anyway, but he probably wouldn’t have lashed out at you in front of someone else.”
“But isn’t the result the same? He thinks he’s doing fine on his own and he doesn’t need help. Mine or anyone else’s.”
“He didn’t say that, did he? You probably made it sound like he was a project you were working on, not someone you care about.”
“Well, I’m not going to chase after him,” I said. “If he wants to apologize, I’ll listen. And then we’ll see.”
I wondered how long it would take Alex to reach out to me, if he did at all. Was he too proud to ask for help? Embarrassed that I’d seen him when he was in trouble? I thought of him working on the dollhouse, how patiently he built that tiny furniture. He had to realize that problems weren’t solved overnight. And that sometimes you needed help.
I worked at the pet store on Sunday, glad to keep busy and avoid thinking about Alex, because when I did I felt a soreness in my chest. The first sign of a broken heart, perhaps? Maybe if I ignored it long enough it would go away.
I still felt bad on Monday morning, but I threw myself into training Mrs. Somogyi and Ferko. By the time I left them, I assumed I never would hear from Alex again. But when I got home, he and Scout were sitting on a bench outside my building. “I was a jerk on Saturday,” he said. “You called it exactly right. But the idea of seeing a therapist is a hot button for me. The one I went to didn’t do anything for me except dredge up bad memories. I don’t want to feel like I’m so broken that I need some professional help.”
“You let me help you.”
“With Scout.”
