I felt like he was herding me toward something, but I agreed that I needed to figure this thing out between me and Ella, so I decided to play along. “In between the laughter, we keep having these really deep, serious discussions.”
“About what?”
“Politics, race, sexuality, religion, the military-industrial complex. You name it, we talk about it.”
“Your fear of CTE? Your depression and anxiety?”
The urge to squirm became overwhelming. While I welcomed Brian’s directness, one of the unintended consequences of it was the discomfort of being forced to look long and hard at my behavior. “Uh…no. Not that.”
“Why not?”
“It goes back to not wanting to get involved with someone while CTE is hanging over my head. She’s like this bright light of positivity in my life right now, and I don’t want to do anything to snuff it out.”
“Has Ella brought CTE up with you? Or Zach?”
Hearing my brother’s name was like a punch to the gut. Still. Every time. It took me a minute to recover before responding. “No. She’s been incredibly respectful of my privacy.”
“And you don’t think that she’s kept quiet because she’s worked at least some of what you’re going through out for herself? It wouldn’t be difficult to find evidence online and make assumptions from there. The only way to make sure that she hasn’t made the wrong ones is to tell her yourself.”
Well, shit. I hadn’t thought about that. But still… “I don’t know if I’m ready for that, Brian.”
“Has Ella told you a lot about herself?”
I paused, not liking this change of direction. “She has.”
“To summarize, you don’t want to get involved with her romantically, because you don’t think it would be fair to her. You don’t want to be upfront with her about CTE and depression, because you want to keep her humor and lightness in your life. So instead, you’re keeping her in a limbo where she continuously puts herself out there and you hold everything about yourself back. In short, you’re making all her decisions for her. Tell me, does that seem fair, Ben?”
I exhaled heavily. “No. It makes me sound like a selfish asshole. Goddamn, Brian. You ever think you should have been a prosecutor instead of a therapist?”
“You’ve always wanted me to be honest with you,” he said. “To ask you to examine your own behavior. That’s all I’m doing right now. Trust me, I get it. It sucks. My husband just did this to me last night, because I haven’t been doing my part around the house or with the kids, and he’s had to pick up the slack. Look, I’m not telling you to unload everything on Ella when she shows up on your doorstep today, but I think that maybe, just maybe, it’s okay to let her in a little. And to let yourself admit that you might be flirting with her because you’re interested in her in a romantic way.”
“And you’re sure I can’t blame that interest on the dosage drop?” I asked, grasping at straws.
“I’m sure.”
“I need time to think about everything.”
“Totally understandable. Don’t rush yourself, Ben. Take all the time you need with this. But a little advice?”
“Shoot.”
“If you want to flirt with Ella, flirt with Ella. As long as she’s receptive, of course.”
We hung up a few minutes later, with plans to talk again in a couple of days. Now was one of those times I wished I could pop open a beer and stare into the fire for a little while, letting my mind go blank. Or jump on the treadmill for an hour. I glanced at the clock. No time. It was three. Ella should have been here by now.
Needing to do something, I paced to the front door, slipped my boots and jacket on, shoved my hair under a hat, and headed out to shovel the walkway. Sure, I’d shoveled it earlier this morning, but we had a flurry a few hours ago, and there was a light dusting over it. Didn’t want Ella to slip.
My mind ran in circles as I worked. Of course I’d been flirting with Ella because I wanted to flirt with her. It’s not like someone had held a gun to my head and forced me to tease her or slip a few innuendoes into our conversations. I felt like an idiot now for trying to blame my behavior on my meds. But even though I was starting to realize my attraction to her might be more than just physical, I struggled tomove past that fact. Every time I tried to picture how our relationship might advance, I ran head-first into a brick wall with the letters CTE spray-painted across it in loud, neon colors. Whatever lay on the other side was completely out of sight, and for that matter, out of grasp.
Ella pulled up several minutes later, while I was still outside, stuck in my own head. I planted the shovel in the snowbank and walked over to greet her. She got out of the truck and shut the door carefully behind her. There was no sign of her dogs as she hurried to meet me halfway.
“Okay, so I did a thing,” she said, her expression cagey. “This present I got you, it doesn’t have to be permanent. It can just be on a loaner basis, which the person I got said present from fully understands, so there is no pressure for you to keep said present.”
I started to walk around her, my curiosity getting the better of me. A loaner basis present? “Ella, you’re stalling. Is it in the truck?”
She skirted in front of me and held up her hands. “It is. And I’m stalling because I don’t want to do that thing where I-”
“Get pushy?” I finished for her. Jesus, Brian was right. The woman had been going out of her way to accommodate me.
