My heartbeat stumbles as I peer at him.
“I mean,” he adds with a shrug and a grin, “unless you want me to wait longer before coming back. I wouldn’t want you getting tired of me this quickly.”
“No,” I mutter more quickly, laughing at myself with a deep breath, which, of course, he notices. The time spent with him makes me feel lighter, even if we’re talking about shitty things in life. I like it, and I can’t wait to see this friendship continue to grow. “You don’t have to wait. Come back whenever.”
“Okay, deal. I can come either early in the morning or later in the afternoon after I go to the hospital.”
I pack up the wine as he tidies up, stacking our trash neatly on top of the counter. “Trash?” He points to the trashcan by the coffee maker.
“You don’t have to do that. I can do it in a bit.”
He waves me off, doing the complete opposite. “Are you going to the hospital to see Jerry?”
“Yeah, he goes to the dialysis center three times a week, and, well, I guess I’m going to spend some time with him. I did most of my work today.”
I gasp again. “You work for real? What a concept!”
“Well, well, Natalie, one can’t live on a pretty face with glasses alone.” He pushes them back with his index finger for good measure.
“I mean, do tell. Tell me more about your work?” I grab a book and throw myself on the couch. Holden stands by the shelf, eyes on me.
“I work at Healing Pals.”
Holy crap. I was looking into Healing Pals recently. Bella has really disliked all the therapists we’ve tried, so I thought a different approach to it might be different. In my research, I found a play-based therapy center in Jacksonville and Healing Pals, an animal-assisted therapy center between here and Magnolia Springs.
“Are you a therapist?”
His rumbly laugh fills the space. “Oh God, no. Not for my lack of trying, though.” I pat the spot next to me on the couch, and he lets out a breath. “How much time do you have?”
Usually, I would say not much, since I’ve already stayed so much later than I would, but I like this time with him. It feels good to share space and conversation with someone who understands grief not related to mine. I appreciate the fact that all my friends were also his friends, but I would be lying to myself if I didn’t acknowledge that sometimes, it’s too heavy, sharing it with them. With Holden, it feels like he’s getting to know the Natalie with grief, not the Natalie changed by it.
“My girls aren’t home yet, so I’ve got as long as you want.”
He sinks into the couch, careful not to touch my leg resting on top of it. “I went to school for Psychology. I have a master’sin social work too. It was always my intention after hockey to do something with those.”
“You played?”
“Yup.”
Huh? Maybe one day, I can let him meet Bella, and they can talk all about it.
“In college?”
“Yes, and a little after.” He rubs the tip of his fingers on his thumb. “It was never my intention for hockey to be the goal, but it ended up being my career for a bit.”
“Are you, like, a famous hockey player or something?” I ask. I’m so out of touch with professional sports or sports in general, I could be sitting with a Stanley Cup winner here and not know it.
He shakes his head. “Not really. But it paid the bills for a while. After my mom…” His voice breaks, and he clears his throat, shaking his head. “Well, I had a hard time going back to playing, so I took leave and went to therapy. I really enjoyed working with animal-assisted therapy and thought I might be able to do the same.”
He stops, looking behind me as if he’s recollecting a moment. I’ve learned not to press matters of the heart, to allow the feelings to flow as words when needed.
“I was wrong.” He laughs, this time quieter, softer, as he shakes his head. “I wasn’t good at it.”
“Were you not good, or did you not give it enough time?”
He ponders my question—eyebrows frowning and head tilted to the side. “I definitely didn’t give it enough time, but not for the reasons you might think. Mostly because I took it too close to my heart.”
I can understand that. As an eternal empath, I could never be a therapist. I love to listen and offer advice when needed, or when my friends ask, but others’ emotions weigh me down. It’sas if I’m a bucket always full of water, and when others share their problems, it’s really easy to spill me over.
