* * *
Tracy arrived ahead of Mike for a two o’clock appointment with Dr. Anthony Trulo at his private practice office in Georgetown. She dreaded having to sit in the same room with her husband and revisit some of the most horrifying days of her life, but she would do it because her children had asked her to.
Over the past few days, each of them had spoken to her about the state of her marriage.
Brooke had implored her to try to find a way to work things out. “He’s been everything to us, Mom, for as long as I can remember. I’ve forgotten that he wasn’t the one who actually fathered me. He’s been my dad from day one. I know he’s not perfect… Who is? But he’s ours.”
Her daughter’s words had brought Tracy to tears, and then Ethan had mentioned how guilty he felt to be the reason for their problems. “I know you’re mad at Dad because of me, and I can’t deal with that on top of everything else.”
“It’s not because of you, sweetheart,” she’d told their son. “It’s a difference of opinion that led to a terrible series of events.”
“He had nothing to do with what happened to me, Mom. Please don’t blame him. That only makes everything worse.”
At bedtime one night, Abby had tearfully conveyed how much she missed having Daddy there to tuck her in.
She brought her children’s heartbreak with her to Dr. Trulo’s office today and was going into this second session with an open mind and heart. The first one hadn’t gone well at all, and if anything, she and Mike had been further apart afterward.
As she entered Dr. Trulo’s office, her phone chimed with a text she’d been waiting for all day. Pled not guilty. Probable cause hearing in two weeks. Court was running late. I’m almost to Trulo’s.
She’d hoped against hope that the charges would be immediately thrown out because of the circumstances. Tracy was disappointed that the case would continue.
Dr. Trulo greeted her with a warm, friendly smile. “It’s nice to see you, Tracy.”
“It’s nice to be seen.” Her sister loved this man, and Tracy could see why. “I haven’t been getting out much. I enjoyed seeing the spring flowers blooming on my way here.”
“It’s my favorite time of year.”
“Mine, too. Mike is on the way.”
“Have a seat.” He took his usual spot in a leather chair while she sat on the sofa, leaving room for Mike to her left. “How’s Ethan doing?”
“It’s an hour-by-hour thing. Sometimes I think he’s feeling better, but then we’re right back to day one with his grief over Luna and questions about why this happened to them. Your daughter has been a godsend to us,” Tracy said of Dr. Christi Trulo-Carpenter, who specialized in youth and family counseling.
“I’m glad to hear that. She’s a gem.”
“She sure is. Ethan really likes her, which of course makes all the difference in a situation like this.”
“That’s absolutely critical. She has a deft hand with youngsters. Always has. When she was younger, she was an in-demand babysitter for all our friends.”
“I can see why.” Tracy checked her watch. Mike was five minutes late. “Should we start without him?”
“We can, if you’d like.”
“I hate to waste the time.”
“How’ve you been feeling about things since our last meeting?”
“Confused. Upset. Torn. Angry. Sad. All the things.”
“That’s understandable in this situation. Talk to me about feeling torn.”
“My kids are suffering because of our separation. That’s really weighing on me.”
“I’m sure it is, but as much as you love them, you can’t live your life entirely for them.”
“I can’t? Really? I wish someone had told me that twenty-one years ago.”
Dr. Trulo laughed. “I wish someone had told me forty years ago, but it’s something every parent learns as they evolve. As much as our children are our whole world in many ways, we have our own lives to consider as well.”
