And is that the top of a lava lamp?
“Welcome to the bubble of safety,” Monroe says as we take our seats. She spreads her arms wide, indicating, I’m guessing, to said bubble. She’s in another sleek pantsuit, having changed out of her climbing spandex from earlier, and I wonder how many pantsuits she brought, and how she’s managing to keep them so wrinkle-free. Are there PAs constantly steaming these things somewhere? “Here, we speak only truth,” she continues. “Without truth, the bubble will pop.”
“Oh, shit,” Jason says. “It pops?That doesn’t feel safe.”
I scoot up against him, trying to smile, though I agree with him. Nothing about this feels particularly safe, which I’m thinking means this therapy is doomed from the start.
But I’m not really here for therapy. I’m just here toactlike I’m getting therapy and earn my two hours.That shouldn’t be too hard.
“I notice that you’re sitting close together, even though there is more room on the couch,” Monroe says, picking up a pen and posing it over the notepad on her lap. “Jason, what do you think that means?”
Jason gets this adorable wrinkle between his eyebrows, like he thinks he’s about to fail his first test. “Um, that we like each other?”
“Interesting,” Monroe says, taking a note about god knows what. “Emily, do you agree?”
“That we like each other? Definitely. He’s my boyfriend.”
“Very good,” Monroe says, and I’m beginning to wonder if she takes this truth thing seriously, like if she thinks she’s some kind of human polygraph that can tell us when we’ve lied and the bubble has popped.
I’m pretty sure that’s not what real therapists do, but really, would I know?
“Let’s start with a little exercise.” Monroe flips over her notebook page and tears off two sheets, handing one to me and one to Jason. She digs into her bag and pulls out a pack of colored pencils and two clip boards. I’ll give her this; Monroe is prepared. Clearly, she already had supplies in tow for sessions of some kind with the other Not-Wives. At least we’re not doing therapy along withthem.
“Jason,” Monroe says, holding out the pack of colored pencils. “Choose a color that represents Emily.”
Jason looks at her, wide-eyed. “If I get it wrong, does the bubble pop?”
Monroe smiles, and it’s more amused than condescending. “No, it’s just a pencil.”
Jason stares at the box like he still thinks he’s going to fail, and I squeeze his hand.
“Brown,” he says finally, taking a pencil. “Because her eyes are brown.”
I smile, and then it’s my turn to pick a pencil that represents Jason. Normally I would say yellow, because it’s bright and happy, but the notepad paper is yellow, and I’m going to have to draw with this thing. Damn, I see why Jason was so stressed.This is hard.
“Red,” I say, taking the red pencil. I don’t know what to say about it, because I’m not going to explain on camera that it will show up well on the paper.That will make me sound like I put practicality above my relationship and, oh god, do I?
“Interesting,” Monroe says, and she makes another note on her pad.
Jason looks like he’s pretty sure he’s failing, and I’m not feeling particularly successful myself, but I am not going to decide the fate of my relationship based on the opinion ofMonroe.
Though now I see why her castmates are so often stressed out about her opinion.
“I want you to draw a picture,” Monroe says, “that represents how you each feel about the other person.”
Jason stares at the dirt, like he has no idea how to do this, and then turns his paper so I can’t see it—does he think I’m going to cheat off him?—and starts drawing.
I am not an artist. I try to draw a flame, but it comes out looking like a maple leaf, and I add a heart around it. I don’t mean to make it look like I’m super into Canada, but there it is.
I really hope Monroe thinks this counts as trying, since she’s the final arbiter of our camera-free time.
“Okay,” Monroe says, after it’s clear we’ve finished our drawings in under ten seconds. “Jason, you show us first.”
One of the cameras zooms in on Jason’s drawing, which he holds up for us to see.
“Emily,” Monroe says. “Why don’t you tell us what you think Jason drew.”
Jason has drawn the world’s simplest smiley face—just two dots and a curve for a mouth—with a heart below it. And even though I know he was probably as panicked about this as I was, it makes me feel all tingly. “It’s a heart because he loves me,” I say. “And a smiley face because I make him happy.”
