Why am I starting to look back on every moment in our long,longhistory and see my own thoughts and reactions through a different lens?
“Things are good,” I tell the doctor, who’s been waiting quietly. “Ames and I talked about our friendship. Communicated, you know?”
“Great.” The doctor sips her tea. “And are things back to normal?”
I clench my hands into fists in my lap.
Only if you consider it normal that I can’t stop noticing the way he moves, the way his throat works when he laughs, the way his fingers look when he runs them through his hair.
“Kinda? We, ah, spent the day with my nieces Sunday. That was awesome, ’cause they love Ames. We were both at Axford family dinner, and it was great. And we’ve hung out at the station too.” I wave a hand vaguely in the direction of the Emergency Services building. “But… I wouldn’t say things are exactly the way they used to be. No.”
She nods thoughtfully. “Makes sense, I suppose, given all the other things going on.”
“Dr. Colburn,” I blurt. “Do you think people can change? Like, significantly? At their core?”
She blinks. “That’s a big question. What kind of change are we talking about here?”
“Like…” I lean forward in my seat, and the chair protests. “What if someone was entirely sure of who they were and what they wanted, but then from one minute to the next, they… wanted something new? Would you trust that change? Or would you think it’s just a temporary thing brought on by, say, stress and fear, and pretty soon, they’ll go back to who they were before?”
“Well.” Dr. Colburn taps her mug thoughtfully. “I think people rarely change significantly without real effort and self-work. We do grow. Learn lessons. Shift our priorities. Discover things about ourselves. Those canfeellike changes but are really more of a realignment. True change, on the other hand, takes time. And often some back-and-forth.” She leans in. “Is there something specific on your mind?”
I swallow hard.
“Robbie,” the doctor prompts, “are you talking about your brother?”
I stare at her for a second. “Huh?”
“You mentioned in our last session that Mike has been going through a hard time and trying to get back on his feet. Are you wondering about whether he’s changed and grown, and whether you should continue to be open to a relationship with him?”
Oh, Jesus.That’s so far removed from what I was thinking, I almost laugh hysterically. But Dr. Colburn looks so sincere and helpful… And now that she mentions it, Ihavebeen thinking about that too. Especially since he came up in my conversation with Ames the other night.
“Ames says Mike’s a narcissist,” I tell her. “Lissa thinks I should block him completely because he doesn’t fit into our future.”
“Hmm. And what do you think?”
“I… I don’t know.” I blow out a breath. “Mike lost his job again. Asked me to help with his rent, even though I’ve told him several times I’m not giving him money anymore. He missed one daughter’s science fair and hasn’t been to any of the other’s track meets. Then he freaking textedLissaand asked if she could get him a loan since her dad runs the bank. Which was mortifying. You know how Lissa feels about Mike already.”
Dr. Colburn winces.
I look down at my hands. “I’m so fucking angry at him right now. It’s like he doesn’t care how I feel at all. Like all he wants to do is take from me. It makes me think Lissa and Ames are right when they say I need to just… stop interacting with him. Stop hoping he’ll be different. But…”
She ducks her head to see my face. “But?”
“Mike’s not all bad. Whatever’s going on with him right now, I want to believe that deep down, he’s still the brother I looked up to. The one who was my only friend in those years when we moved around a lot before coming to Winsome.” I swipe a hand through my hair, vaguely aware my knee’s bouncing. “Mike texted me a picture the other day of us as kids, playing superheroes with tablecloth capes around our necks. He was the Thunderclap, and I was his sidekick, Echo. He always made time for me, even though he’s five years older. And I just… I couldn’t help remembering that.”
“Why do you suppose he sent you that picture?” she prompts gently.
I snort. “The second thought in my head after saying, ‘Aww,’ was Ames’s voice reminding me that Mike probably sent it so I’d feel guilty and send him money.” I meet her eyes. “But there’s not another person on the planetwho remembers those days. No one else who knows exactly how it felt to grow up in our house, with our parents. I love the guy in that picture. It would hurt to cut him out of my life nearly as much as it hurts to—” I break off.
“To have him in it?” Dr. Colburn finishes.
I take a deep breath and nod uncertainly.
She leans back in her chair with her tea. “Shared history is important. It would be a profound loss to not have your brother in your life. You can be angry and still feel that. You can choose to have no contact with him and still feel that.”
It’s a relief to hear her say that. To have her articulate it. But still… “I keep thinking,If you love him so much, Robbie, don’t let him down. If you’ll miss him, don’t cut him out of your life. If you worry about him being alone, be there for him.”
She purses her lips. “I’d suggest reframing some of that. It’s not your job to protect Mike from the consequences of his actions, is it? In fact, it might be a disservice. Consequences are often what help us grow and change.”
