Page 5 of Heart Me Up
“You tell them, Foster.” Mike casually leaned one elbow on the table and toyed with his beer bottle. “Where did you say you were meeting him again?”
I stared Mike down. “No. You will not.” Glaring around the table, I said, “None of you.” They didn’t pay attention; they were too busy whispering to each other and chortling.
Artie suggested, “How about a pic when he gets there? So we can all see what you’re dealing with?”
“Ha ha. No.” I made a big X with my forearms.
Amy chimed in. “Don’t worry, guys. Friday morning I’ll have first crack at the epic retelling of the disaster. You’ll be updated ASAP.”
Silviatskedat them and turned to me. “Don’t listen to them, Foster. This date will lead to something wonderful; I can feel it. You deserve happiness and it will find you.”
“Thank you, Silvia,” I said, ignoring the riffraff around her. I stood up. “Okay, enough about my love life or lack thereof. Let’s clear the plates, get more beer and play a game.”
Chapter2
Craig
Normally I didn’t arguewith my therapist. I’d surprised her, I could tell, because Lisa usually just nodded calmly at anything that came out of my mouth. But right then both of her immaculately groomed eyebrows were climbing to the top of her head.
“Tell me why you think you’re ready to have less frequent sessions?” she asked finally, settling back in her leather Eames chair. She relaxed her posture, uncrossing her legs and tilting her head to the side, which ticked me off even though objectively I knew she wasn’t trying to manipulate me.
“I’ve been seeing you for almost two years.” I tried to keep my voice even and calm. If she noticed how irritated I was, she’d never agree. “I’m doing fine. I haven’t had any guilty thought-spirals in months. And I’m only asking to change our sessions to every other week instead of weekly.”
Lisa kept her body in the same relaxed position, but her eyes gleamed with intent like a Jack Russell Terrier staring at a ball in someone’s hand.
“When was the last time you took an emotional risk, Craig?”
“A what?”
“An emotional risk. We’ve discussed this before, but maybe I haven’t used the exact term. I’m asking what you’ve done recently to make yourself emotionally vulnerable. Have you gone on a date? Adopted a pet? Made a new friend?”
“I have plenty of friends. Why do I need new ones?” I deliberately didn’t address the other two topics.
“Okay,” she said patiently. “What have you done for fun in the past month or so with your current friends?”
“Ummm.” I thought about it. I hated proving her right, but I could see where this was going. “I went out to dinner with Greg and his boyfriend last week.”
“Okay, good. Did you try a new place?”
Crap. “No, we went to Henry’s.”
Lisa cocked her head in the other direction. Her braids swung, and the beads clacked cheerfully. It was the sound of me losing my argument. “Craig, it’s much easier to feel you’re doing well when you aren’t challenging yourself. Taking small emotional risks now will prepare you for when big issues come along in the future.”
I pressed my lips together. Fuck, why did she have to be right all the time?
“I’ll make you a deal,” she offered.
Narrowing my eyes, I said, “Okay.”
“You’ve avoided dating.”
“With good reason.” I got the head tilt again, so I sighed like a bratty teenager and said, “Yes, Iknow. There weren’t any warning signs. No one, not even me, could have seen any red flags,” I repeated by rote. “But that’s the point! It’s safer to just not date.”
My statement earned me Lisa’s patentedI’m not going to let you get away with thatexpression. I slumped down into the sofa, trying not to pout.
She followed through with, “What about sex? Last year you told me you hadn’t had sex since Drew. Has anything changed?”
“I’m fine! I prefer being alone.” I was a liar. I was a liar who lied to my therapist.
