I shouldn’t have mentioned Lois’s accident.I definitely shouldn’t have encouraged Avery to keep shoving misogynists in bars—the only appropriate response was to help her unpack those feelings, not stoke them.But what I most certainly shouldn’t have done was comment on the definition in her arms because it could easily be misconstrued as flirting and that’s not just a misstep.It’s the kind of thing that could cost me my license.
It’s just that Avery’s incessant use of curse words reminds me of Lois in a way that I haven’t been in a long time.It’s funny that such profanity should fuel such tender memories, but that was Lois all over.She was always swearing at something or someone.She was loud and present and the most magnificent wife in every sense.
I walk into the backyard and sit on the bench among the plants she so lovingly took care of, and think back to my conversation with Derek about finding love again.No one has ever come close to Lois.He was right when he said I shouldn’t be looking for another Lois.Not only because such a person doesn’t exist, but even more so because it’s impossible to have the same relationship twice.
I sit in silence for a while, in this green oasis that Lois created for us.I’ve tried to keep it thriving, in her memory, with the help of a gardener.I’m not sure how I would cope if one of Lois’s plants died as well.
While I’ve grown accustomed to being alone, after twenty years of Lois’s all-absorbing presence, I can still feel so lonely.I miss her, and it’s a feeling that doesn’t go away.But maybe I don’t have to be so alone.
Maybe I should approach dating a little differently than the half-hearted attempts I mustered since Lois’s death.Maybe I should actually give the other women a chance instead of immediately dismissing them on the grounds that they’re not the person they can never be.
Maybe I’m ready.Maybe Avery showing up in my practice is some sort of sign that it’s time for me to take that next step.None of this is very rational, but, come to think of it, it would be nice to have someone special to call right now.Not Derek, or another friend, or my sister, but someone whose heart lights up when they see my name on their phone screen.Someone who gives me butterflies in my stomach.I can surely dream.
I text back and forth with Derek, trying to arrange a date.We settle on next Saturday at his and Ben’s place.Her name’s Loretta, he tells me and I feel a tiny flutter of excitement, because at least I’m trying.And you just never know.That’s something I always tell my clients.You simply never know what life has in store for you next.
Then my mind again drifts back to my three o’clock appointment.I had four sessions today, yet there’s only one client who keeps popping up in my head.And I have to ask myself the question I’ve never, in thirty years of practice, had to ask myself: am I in trouble here?Am I feeling something inappropriate?If I am, I will have to immediately stop seeing Avery as a client because my feelings could stand in the way of me offering her the best possible care.
But I can easily shrug off that thought because, for starters, Avery Hall is in her mid-thirties and while, at my age, I shouldn’t necessarily only be looking at older women anymore, a woman who is twenty years my junior is simply not an option.She might be extremely attractive and curse like a sailor, but she’s just not my type.It’s as simple as that.
So when I go inside and settle in the couch, I have no qualms about watchingQueer Girl Summeragain.It’s quickly become my new sapphic comfort movie because it’s so damn good and it gets me every time.
It’s the story of three women in their early thirties, each, in their own way, unraveling under the weight of the modern-day capitalist world.Strangers at first, their lives begin to intersect through a series of unexpected, increasingly intimate encounters.
What starts as coincidence becomes connection.Slowly they find themselves drawn into one another’s orbit—sharing secrets, stolen moments, and finally something far more combustible.It all builds to an enormous climax beneath the towering redwoods of Big Sur.And when I say climax, I mean it in every sense—physical, emotional, spiritual.No one emerges untouched.
The vibe of the movie is gentle and playful, with soft light and a dreamy, sun-dappled aesthetic that makes everything feel slightly suspended in time—like summer itself might never end.But the message is, at least to me, crystal clear: burnout is political, healing is queer, and pleasure can be resistance.
Sienna Bright, who was my client for a while after her father died in a motorcycle accident—something I could very much relate to—is the best she’s ever been in it.Stella Flack is equally astounding.But Avery Hall is something else.There’s a moment deep in the second act where she portrays the pain she’s in with a simple but extremely effective slow bat of her eyelids and it gets me every time.It’s the moment the movie cracks wide open and, subtly but unmistakably, turns into something else.Pleasure takes over from pain and it’s spectacular.
Silke Meisner, the director, is known for making difficult movies that aren’t always fun to watch—nor to act in, I know from my sister’s clients—but I guess she grew tired of all the torment and her three-sixty into this different, much more joyful genre is a slam dunk.No wonder this small indie feature grew into such a huge hit.
For Avery, a former soap opera actor onEcho Bay, it must have been a huge shock to the system.It’s one of the reasons she comes to my practice once a week.That and her internalized homophobia.There’s a lot bubbling under the surface, but I’m certain she’s come to the right place for help.She has come to me.And I will do right by her.
Chapter7
Avery
Because she gave me homework this week, I think about Nic a lot.I’m sure it wasn’t her intention, but that’s how my brain works, apparently.Whenever I catch myself having a bad thought—considering myself inadequate again—I think of her asking me to push back against it.
It’s only been three days since our last session, and I can only conclude that I don’t think so highly of myself, what with how my thoughts are now suffused with images of Nic—looking fucking scrumptious in all of them—to drown out whenever I think of myself as too little or too much of something.Not gay enough to attract the kind of woman I’m into—although god knows what kind of woman that might be.Too famous now to stroll to my local coffee shop and have a normal chat with the barista.Too uptight to call my mother and ask her how she’s doing.
I’m about to call Sienna to ask her everything she remembers about Nic, but I stop myself.I’m still resisting becomingthatcliché on top of all the other clichés I seem to be.Oh, bam.Another not-so-good thought about myself.I check my email instead and there’s a message from my agent, Leslie—Nic’s sister.
It’s an invitation to her sixtieth birthday party in a few weeks.If it’s the kind of party that mixes professional acquaintances with family, Nic will be there.It makes me want to RSVP straight away, but I keep my cool.I also make a mental note to ask Nic what the protocol is for occasions like that—for when you run into your therapist in a social situation.It must happen to her all the time.
I check my watch.I have a meeting with the PR team for my upcoming movie,Deadline for Love, in an hour.It’s all on Zoom these days, and I’m feeling antsy.I switch on the TV, and there’s an old episode ofEcho Bayon.Toward the end of my time on the show, my storyline became increasingly ridiculous.There I am.I try not to cringe at seeing myself, but it’s impossible.I’m not ashamed of my work onEcho Bayand, for the most part, I loved doing it.It was steady but hectic work in a world I only ever dreamed of.I learned a lot about acting during my time on that show.
On screen, I’m shouting at my TV dad, who has just told me that my best friend is also the half-sister I never knew about.
In many ways, my life was a lot simpler when I only hadEcho Bayto worry about.Now, I have to actually put myself out there and entice people to see the movie I’m in.ForQueer Girl Summer, it was almost fun because I’d grown very close to Stella and Sienna, and I perfected a way of letting them answer the questions I didn’t feel like replying to, like “What was it like to act in such a queer movie?”
In my opinion, any reporter asking such an inane question should never be allowed to interview an actor ever again.Neither Stella nor Sienna shared my view, however.They both thought it a wonderful, even pertinent question.
I switch off the TV because I can’t bear to watch myself any longer, but my mind drifts back to when Nic said she’d seenQueer Girl Summera few times.Now that’s a lovely thought.For a few minutes, I allow myself to be the cliché.I imagine my hot therapist showing interest in me beyond the boundaries of therapy.Then I shake off the thought.I need to sit in front of her with a straight face.But she did stare at my biceps when I flexed.I don’t know much about therapy, but I’m fairly sure that’s not part of the standard toolkit.Or maybe it’s how Dr.Nic works.Oh, fuck it.Like my thumb has a mind of its own, it’s scrolling to her website on my phone.It’s very minimalist, making her solemn headshot stand out all the more.
Nicola Forbes, Psy.D.
Licensed Clinical Psychologist
