“For me it is. Although maybe after some time working with you, it won’t be. I guess that’s the point,” she said, suddenly realizing she hadn’t taken off her coat and was now boiling hot. She wiggled out of it, hoping her cheeks would cool down instantaneously. “First off, I guess I’d describe myself as a mom. I’ve got two children, Winnie and Noah. Well, they’re hardly children anymore. Winnie’s off to college next fall and Noah is in tenth grade. Anyway, I’m also a wife and a daughter. My parents are both still alive. I have less to do with my father than my mother, but I suppose we’ll get into all that as we go. I currently work at a paint-your-own-pottery shop, but that doesn’t really define me. It’s just … where I work.” Looking up at him, she added, “Is that the kind of thing you’re looking for?”
“I was actually just wondering what your name is. I’m afraid when my last receptionist left, things got a little disorganized around here.”
“Oh, right. Of course. Jessica Halloway.”
He jotted something down on his paper. Presumably her name. “Do you prefer Jessica or Jess?”
“Either is fine, but most people call me Jess.”
Glancing up at her, he said, “Is that what you prefer to be called?”
“Well, to be totally honest, I prefer Jessica from people I don’t know well. It feels too familiar when someone I’ve just met calls me Jess. Does that make sense?”
“I’d say so,” he answered. “No one likes it when a stranger takes liberties with them.”
“Exactly,” Jessica said with a smile. Maybe this won’t be so bad. Dr. Harris seemed to get her already.
“So, what made you want to work with me?” he asked.
With a deep breath, Jessica said, “To be honest, I’ve just had this … sort of an overwhelming sense of dissatisfaction with my life lately. Well, for a few years, if I’m really going to lay it all out there. Not that I’m not grateful for what I’ve got, because I am. Believe me, I know I could have it a lot worse. I have a healthy family, a nice home, a good marriage, great friends. Oh, that sounded bad. I called my friends great and my marriage only good. It’s a great marriage. Mike is a wonderful dad and a terrific guy. Everyone loves him and he really is good to me.”
“So long as you’re on time,” he said with a wry smile.
It took Jessica a second to understand what he was referring to. She smiled back. “Oh right, because he hates it when I’m late. I don’t mean to give the wrong impression of him. We all have our little quirks that drive our partners nuts. He leaves crumbs in the butter, which is pretty gross, if you ask me. Are you married?” she said, then realized she perhaps shouldn’t have done that. “You don’t have to answer that. In fact, forget I said it. It’s none of my business.”
“I’m not married. I was, but it didn’t work out,” he said, his face and tone neutral.
Jess felt a pang of disappointment and she hoped it didn’t show on her face. She wasn’t sure what exactly she expected from a therapist, but she supposed a solid marriage (without any sex) would be a bare minimum. After all, how was he supposed to give her advice on her relationship if he couldn’t keep his own together? She offered him an overly bright smile to cover up her feelings. “That’s all right. Probably better than staying in a situation that makes you miserable.”
“That’s what I thought, yes.”
“Smart,” she said. “But of course you are. You wouldn’t be on that side of the desk if you weren’t.”
He gave her a look that she couldn’t quite decipher. It was somewhere between bewilderment and amusement. “Tell me what your greatest strengths are.”
“Oh, God, I hate tooting my own horn,” Jessica said, blushing again. “But I guess I’d have to say that I’m a hard worker and I’m very organized. My boss at the pottery shop often says she breathes a sigh of relief when I have a shift because she knows when she comes in next, everything will be exactly in its place. I’m also capable of juggling a lot of balls in the air without letting any drop. Maybe too many. That could be why I feel so put-upon sometimes. Because I keep everything going all the time. It means people come to rely on me, maybe more than they should. I volunteer a lot—PTA, school fundraisers, that kind of thing. And I probably do too much for the kids…” She shook her head. “They barely know how to cook. And I swore I wasn’t going to raise useless people, but they’re just so busy with school and sports, and even when they’re not, like if it’s summer holiday and they’re sitting around on their phones doing literally nothing all day, I still don’t make them cook dinner for the family. I used to try to get them to help out in the kitchen, but I don’t have the patience to listen to all the complaining. They act as if instead of asking them to slice up some cucumber, I’ve asked them to donate both kidneys to me. At some point, I just gave up and decided to do it myself. I actually prefer it that way because I clean up as I go which means when we finish eating, I don’t have to face a total disaster. Does it make me a bad mother? Maybe. I mean, a lack of patience doesn’t exactly make me agoodmother, but on the other hand, they are very well cared-for. Very well. They never want for anything. Well, anything reasonable anyway. A few weeks ago Noah got it in his head that he wanted to have a Halloween party with his friends at a hotel, of all things. Mike and I shut that down hard.” Shaking her head, she added, “Is that normal? For a fifteen-year-old to expect his parents to hand their credit card over for a hotel party?”
“I… I’m not sure. I don’t have a lot of experience with teenagers, but I would say they’re not exactly known for being realistic all the time.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Jessica said, realizing she’d gotten off track. “But you were asking me what my strengths are.”
“Right, yes,” he said. “So far, I’m going to put down reliable, organized, and hard-working.”
She nodded, comfortable with those descriptors. “I’m also good at looking after people. The customers at the pottery shop constantly need help, whether they’ve run out of paint or they’re not sure how to use the stencils, that type of thing. To be honest, it’s a lot like being a mother. Getting them all set up at their table, making sure they have what they need, providing gentle guidance, then cleaning up after them. It’s all just gotten soboring.”
“So, you’re looking to get out of that then?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I really hadn’t thought ofleaving. I don’t think my job is the main reason I’ve been so … off my game. I mean, it contributes to it, sure. It’s not what I thought it would be. When I first applied, I thought it would give me a chance to express my creative side. Paint my own pieces while the clients worked on theirs, but there’s no time. I wind up rushing from table to table the entire time.”
“How long have you worked there?”
“Eight years.”
He jotted that down. “That’s a long time for a job you don’t enjoy.”
“Too long, right? I should probably have higher standards, shouldn’t I? Maybe the root of my problems is just old-fashioned low self-esteem.” Tears filled her eyes quite unexpectedly. Shedidhave low self-esteem. When the hell had that happened? Jess covered her mouth with one hand. “You know, I think that’s it. My confidence is shot. I think it’s because I haven’t accomplished all the things I thought I would by this age.” Her voice cracked and her vision was now completely blurry with emotion.
Where was the box of tissues? Every therapist should have one at the ready. Divorcedandno Kleenex? What kind of psychologist was Dr. Harris?
