Our first visit to the therapist had been followed by days of continued silence on Alex’s part. When I asked him what the problem was, he shrugged it off as being caught up in the planning of Red’s engagement party. But I knew that was bullshit, since I was the one doing most of the coordinating.

 

Nobody was more surprised than me, when he finally began to open up on the ride over to our second session. “Is there anything we’re missing,” he asked, a couple of miles from the doctor’s office.

 

“Hunh?” I asked, rightly confused.

 

“For the barbeque. Do we have everything we need?”

 

“Oh, yeah. We just have to pick up the meat from the butcher’s.”

 

“The butcher?” He glanced at me, and then back at the road. “Why can’t we just pick up meat out of the store?”

 

“Because this is a special occasion that calls for a special menu. You act like Red gets married every month.”

 

Like the sun breaking through the clouds after a heavy rain, Alex smiled. “Yeah, that is something else. I can’t ever remember seeing Red as happy as he’s been. I think he’s found the one.”

 

“Well, I’d say it’s a two-way street.” I tapped a hand against my leg and groaned. “Darn, I did forget something else. I was supposed to call Marty back about the centerpiece. She couldn’t get the yellow roses and wanted to substitute them for cream-colored ones.”

 

Alex sighed as he turned into the parking lot.

 

“What?” I asked, climbing out of the truck.

 

“Never mind. It’d take too long to explain.” He took me by the hand and led me into the building.

 

We signed in and before we could take a seat, Dr. Maxwell waltzed in and led us to his office. “So, how have things been the past couple of days?” he asked, motioning for us to have a seat.

 

 

“Interesting,” I said.

 

“Oh, really? Mind if I ask how?”

 

I sucked my teeth, knowing, without a doubt, I was about to put Alex back in silent mode. I exhaled and explained, “Well, I’ve been trying to take baby steps as you suggested, but I have to be honest, it’s been hard. I just can’t understand for the life of me why I can’t stand to be in the same room with AJ.”

 

“Starlet, there is one thing I want you to understand,” Dr. Maxwell began, “a change is not going to happen overnight. That was the only reason I suggested the baby-steps approach. The fact that you’re trying is success, in itself.”

 

“But it’s not happening fast enough,” I insisted. “I want to prove to Alex I can handle this on my own—without him constantly looking over my shoulder. If the baby cries, I see him peeking through doors. It’s getting ridiculous. Somebody on Riker’s Island has more freedom than I do.”

 

“It’s unfortunate you feel that way.” He directed his next line of questioning at Alex. “What is it that you’re afraid of?

 

I peered at Alex’s reflection in the large-paned window. He shifted on the couch, his gaze seeming to rest just beyond Dr. Maxwell. “It’s not that I’m afraid of anything,” he said, clearing his throat, “but I want to make sure that Starlet’s secure in her role.”

 

“Damn, Alex, you sound like I’m in some kind of play. This is our son we’re talking about.”

 

“I think she might have a point,” Dr. Maxwell conceded.

 

“Look, baby, I know you’re trying to help,” I said, rising and walking over to the window. “But it’s almost like an overwhelming immersion course—I just have to plunge in and make this better.”

 

“Are you sure plunging in is the best thing for you?” Dr. Maxwell asked. “By taking a baby-steps approach, we work you into the situation gradually, allowing you time to digest what’s happening.”

 

“I don’t do anything gradually, Dr. Maxwell.”

 

Alex seemed to marinate on my words for a moment, and then added, “Welp, it looks like this will be a first for you then.”

 

I didn’t even bother to speak. Just stood there looking at the birds flutter through the courtyard.

 

“Starlet, I know you want to get back to being the best mother you can be as quickly as possible,” Dr. Maxwell said. “I also know that I can’t dictate to you how you should approach renewing the bond with your child, but if I can suggest that we try my approach for at least the next few weeks . . . and see where we get with it.”

 

“Why do I have to wait? Waiting just overwhelms me. Makes me feel like I should be doing something more,” I huffed and began pacing the floor. 

 

“I agree that it probably does. But this way, you’re less likely to return to your current state. Consider it a weaning process.”

 

“Weaning from what?”

 

“From your current state of unhappiness, of course.”

 

“OK, I do it your way. But then I feel, in a lot of ways, that I’m abandoning my child. He didn’t ask to be here and now that he is here, I’m not doing my part. You know, not creating a bond like I should.”

 

“Sounds like you’re afraid he’s going to feel emotionally abandoned. Have you ever felt that way?”

 

“Yes. In some ways.”

 

“Care to explain?” he asked, giving me his full attention.

 

I stopped pacing and looked from Alex to him. “I don’t talk about it much. Actually only Yanni—my childhood friend—really knows. My mom’s a nurse. A damn good one. But she always put her job first. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love my mother and our closeness has developed as we’ve gotten older but, as a teen, things were tense.”

 

I returned to the couch, sat down and continued. “You see, my mom was never there. Work always came first. Church meetings always came first. Choir rehearsal always came first. I mean, I knew she loved me, but I also knew that other things came first.”

 

“Have you ever discussed your feelings with your mother?” Dr. Maxwell asked, writing on his pad.

 

“For what reason? My mother was the baby in a family of five boys. Because of that she pretty much got her own way. She’s still that way. I know she doesn’t mean anything by it, so I just accept things as is and move on.”

 

“Hmm . . . that’s an interesting way of putting it,” he said, placing the pad on the stand next to him and sitting up straight. “So, you just accept the behavior?”

 

“What else can you do? Challenge your mother?”

 

“Well, you could make her aware of how you feel . . . and how you’ve felt for years. Let me ask you another question: have you ever felt emotionally abandoned as an adult?”

 

I stared long and hard at Dr. Maxwell. That was one question I did not want to answer in Alex’s presence.

 

“Starlet, are you OK?” Dr. Maxwell asked.

 

“Yes, I’m fine. Just caught off guard by your question, I guess.”

 

“Oh, I see.” He looked like he was about to say something else then turned toward Alex. “Alex, you look like you have something to say?”

 

“No, I don’t. This is about Starlet.”

 

“As we covered in our first session, if Starlet is to embrace her new role, we have to have openness. These sessions are not just a chance for Starlet to say what’s on her mind, but you, too.”

 

Alex gave me a questioning look. I returned his look with a nod to proceed. “Well, OK. I was just thinking about how Starlet might have taken Eric’s death as abandonment.”

 

My lips trembled, as he said exactly what I’d been thinking. I didn’t know what to say.

 

“Star, I know you loved Eric,” Alex said, looking me in the eye. “I also know that you love me and our son, but fact is fact. You loved him, and he was taken away.”

 

“Who is Eric, Starlet?”

 

“Someone I met before Alex,” I mumbled. “He’s dead.”

 

“I’m sorry to hear that. So, I take it you and Eric were pretty close?”

 

“We were, but then we weren’t—and then he was killed.” I pressed my fingers against my eyes to keep from crying. “He died right before I found out I was pregnant.”

 

“Are you saying the baby is Eric’s?”

 

“Oh, no, no,” I stated, shaking my head. “He’s definitely Alex’s son, but we didn’t find out until after he was born.”

 

The silence in the room felt like it was going to swallow me up.

 

Dr. Maxwell finally cut the air, sending my heart into erratic mode in the process, “Do you sometimes wish the baby were Eric’s?”