Page 33 of Marriage and the Midlife Crisis

I hesitated, then typed out a response requesting a solo session for tomorrow. No matter what happened, I knew I would benefit from talking to someone about everything, someone who could be impartial and help me work through my next steps.

Feeling somewhat better at having something to distract myself, I made a list of the immediate issues I wanted to discuss. Then, as my anger started to outweigh my sadness, I started making plans, at least tentative ones, so that I would know where I stood legally.

With hands that shook slightly, I did a search for divorce lawyers, checking reviews and reading bios and credentials. I was a bundle of nerves as I made note of several who looked promising and sent inquiries to them.

As I hit send on the last email, I registered a faint throbbing behind my right eye and felt vaguely sick to my stomach. Unsure if it was the nerves getting to me or the beginnings of a migraine, I set the phone aside and made my way to the kitchen for a glass of water. I found an unopened package of saltines in the pantry and nibbled on a few to settle my stomach.

I sagged against the kitchen counter for support, suddenly feeling totally depleted physically as well as mentally. Forcing myself to move, I rolled the small suitcase to the guest bedroom and went through the motions of unpacking. The pain behind my eye worsened, and I gave in and took a dose of my migraine medication.

Knowing from past experience that it would knock me out for several hours at least, I got ready for bed and slid between the cool sheets, thankful for the first time ever that I was prone to migraines.

“At least with the meds, I’ll be able to sleep tonight,” I muttered to myself as I shifted, then winced as the light from the bedside lamp hit me full in the face. Squinting, I reached over to turn it off, then eased back onto the pillow, praying that the medication kicked in before the pain got any worse.

It must have worked, because I didn’t wake up again until almost nine the next morning. After ascertaining that my migraine was gone, I headed for the kitchen, hoping desperately that Mom had left a few coffee pods behind for her Keurig machine. I was in luck, finding both coffee and a half empty box of artificial sweetener packets in the pantry. There was no creamer, of course, so I had to make do with black coffee, but it was better than nothing.

Thoughts of Ryan started to intrude, so I checked my email to see a reply from Neela telling me she hoped everything was OK, and that of course it was fine if I needed a few days. I also had a response from one of the attorneys I’d contacted, giving me information on arranging an initial consultation. I made myself stay busy by making a list of the groceries I’d need for the next few days at least, showered and got dressed for my therapy appointment.

By ten-thirty, I was more or less ready and steeling myself to face the day ahead. No amount of cold cloths or makeup would cover the bags and dark circles under my eyes, but I was beyond caring.

I had no appetite, but forced myself to stop for a breakfast sandwich, including a second cup of coffee, with plenty of creamer this time.

My nerves climbed steadily as it got closer to time for my appointment, and as I parked and got out of my car, my hands were shaking. I plunged them into the pockets of my coat to hide that fact, then made my way into the building. I followed the signs to an office suite at the end of the hall on the first floor where several therapists shared space.

I was greeted by the receptionist who confirmed my insurance information, and moments later, directed me to a room toward the back. Approaching the open door, I glanced inside to see a redheaded woman about my age beckoning me in from behind her desk.

“Hello, I’m Kim Frazier,” she greeted me as she pushed away from her desk and gestured to her wheelchair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t quick enough to greet you out in the lobby but come on in and have a seat.”

“Melanie Davenport,” I replied, shaking her hand and then easing down onto one end of the couch.

The office wasn’t overly large, with the small leather couch along the one wall, and two comfortable-looking upholstered chairs placed on either side. A low coffee table in front of the couch had a few potted plants, and a box of tissues, as well as bottles of water. The overhead lights were turned off, and the room was lit instead by the lamps on the two side tables. The designer in me approved, as it gave the space a cozier, homier feel than I’d expected.

Kim pressed a button on the wall to close the door before positioning her chair on the other side of the coffee table so she could face me.

“Thank you for being able to meet with me on such short notice,” I said, giving her a shaky smile.

“I’m happy I had an opening. I did notice that your original inquiry was for couple’s counseling, but you changed it to an individual session when you confirmed today’s appointment,” she began kindly. “Has there been a change of plans, or will your partner be joining us for future sessions?”

I took a deep breath and looked down at my hands folded in my lap as I decided how to best answer her question. She clearly saw my hesitation and rushed to reassure me.

“Either way is fine, and we can keep future sessions flexible, so don’t worry about that for now. Today, I’ll get to know you a little bit and find out what brings you here. Does that sound OK?”

I nodded, and she smiled gently, then gave me a brief overview of her qualifications and certifications. “I always let my clients know that I don’t subscribe to any one specific counseling methodology. I find that using a mixture of different therapy techniques often works best.”

“I remember reading that on your online profile. It was actually one of the things that drew me to you,” I offered quietly.

“I firmly believe that I should tailor my methods to my clients’ needs, not the other way around. What works well for one person, or one couple, may not be the best approach for someone else.”

I nodded in agreement, and she continued, “Now, Melanie, some of the questions I ask during our sessions may be difficult to answer or will seem unnecessarily intrusive. I’m sorry for that, but it is important to be as honest, and introspective, and as forthright as you can be. I can’t be effective if I don’t have all the pertinent facts.” Her voice was warm and sincere, and it immediately put me at ease.

“I understand,” I replied, then took a deep breath to try to relax.

“So, can you tell me a little about yourself?”

I nodded, then said, “I’m an interior design assistant. I’ve been married twice. The first only lasted for two years. Ryan and I have been married for twelve. We have two sons, Tanner and Garrett.”

When I didn’t say anything more, Kim nodded encouragingly. “And what about you?”

I looked at her in confusion, and she offered a gentle smile.