Chapter 14
When Michael emerged from Dr. Harding’s office, Emily gave him a thumbs up. As he set up another appointment with the receptionist, he discreetly gave her one as well. He paid for his session and he and Emily walked into the quiet hallway outside the waiting area.
“Well?”
“Well, I didn’t explode. That’s a relief.” In all honesty, he’d appreciated talking to Dr. Harding, or as he preferred to be called, Jeff. A former medic in the Canadian Forces, the man had seen action in Afghanistan. Upon coming home, he’d been affected by the plight of so many fellow veterans and had gone into psychology. He specialized in treating victims of PTSD. Michael was almost ashamed, comparing his story to some of theirs, but Jeff wouldn’t hear anything about it. An older man, straightforward in his approach, Jeff reminded Michael of his dad. He liked him, felt comfortable around him.
Emily threw her arms around his neck. “I’m so proud of you.”
“It’s just one appointment.”
“Michael, it’s a huge step. Priya told me many people with PTSD never seek help. They suffer in silence, sometimes for years. In agreeing to see a professional, you’ve come leaps and bounds.”
“Thanks. Jeff is cool. Having seen what he’s seen, I feel as if he gets it.”
“It sounds as if you’re in good hands.”
“I told him how hard it’s been for me to remember the shooting, how I didn’t want to talk about it with the last doctor. He understood, but he said something that made sense. If I keep trying to avoid my memories of that day, they’ll keep interfering in my day-to-day life. Avoiding them actually keeps the emotions current, instead of allowing me to process them and move on.”
“Makes sense.”
Michael grinned. “I have to start keeping a journal. Can you picture me scribbling in a journal, writing down all my thoughts and feelings?”
“You can do it.”
“It’s all part of building what he calls dual awareness. When I have a flashback, I feel like I’m there again, in Jane’s house. In working with him, he said he’ll be helping me recognize when I’m safe in the present and not thrust into my memories.”
“You got all that from one appointment? Maybe I should book a session with Jeff for some of my issues.”
“He said there’s a good way to remember and a dangerous way to remember. Revisiting those memories in a safe environment is supposed to give me a sense of control over my fear.”
“I like the idea of having a safe place to remember.”
Michael wrapped his arms around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. Stroking her neck, he closed his eyes and visualized his ideal sanctuary. No matter what form it took, whether a park or a beach or a church, there was one constant in each image. Emily was always there.
“I think that’s why I gravitated to you so quickly. You’re my safe place. I know I can always land softly around you.”
She nuzzled the opening at his shirt and kissed the patch of his chest that was visible. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
He grinned, feeling refreshed. Odd, considering he’d spent the last hour blubbering like a baby. A sense of lightness floated around him, as if he’d plopped onto a big, happy bubble. He was under no illusion he was cured, if one could indeed be cured of PTSD, but in admitting his helplessness, first to Emily and then to Jeff, he’d somehow harnessed another aspect of his strength.
For the first time in a long time, he’d woken up without a headache. He’d had one short nightmare, but it was nothing like the night terrors he’d had previously. No mangled bodies or waving guns. If anything, the dream had felt like a reflection of his new resolution to heal. He remembered black clouds in an angry sky, but the clouds had drifted past and Michael had glimpsed pockets of light.
It was the same feeling he got when he looked at Emily. She filled his world with light and he already felt indebted to her. How would he ever repay her for her kindness, her understanding and her persistence? He knew she wouldn’t want any sort of recompense, but he wanted to do something to show her exactly how much he appreciated having her in his life.
An idea occurred to him. It scared him, he wouldn’t deny it, but if he could get past his hang ups, it might be just the sort of thing Em would love.
He tucked the idea into the back of his head so he could mull it over later. Maybe he’d even talk to Jeff about it.
In the meantime, he forced himself to confront something else that had been bothering him for a long time. “Em, I’m thinking about calling Penny.”
“You mentioned her before. Isn’t she Jane’s daughter?”
“Yeah. She’s a student at the University of Toronto. I haven’t spoken to her since right after the shooting and I’ve been beating myself up for not doing more for her.”
“More? That implies you have done something for her.”
He shrugged. “I put a bit of money into an education fund for her. She knows, of course. The kid lost both her parents that day. I had to do something.”
