Vanessa's Choice by technowhimsey,technowhimsey

She cat-walked to the couch but I stopped her. I sat behind my desk. “I think we should conduct this session as we ended the one before.” I pointed to the side chair.

She stared for a moment and shrugged. “You know you want me. I know you want me. Why fight about it? We’re adults, after all.”

She wasn’t going to give up easily. I thought, “Good. The more you fight, the faster this will go.”

She glided to the chair, sat, and crossed her legs slowly. Her smile remained. Her eyes never left mine. Her skirt rode up significantly. I could see the top of her stocking was lace. Her perfume, an expensive one, filled the air. I let my eyes trail down to her legs and then back up. She smoldered, assuming the role of the cat to my mouse.

I thought, “Time to turn the tables, kitty.” I said, “You are acutely aware of your physical attractions. It’s too bad you view them mostly as a useful weapon in a game of conquest. I think it’s time you realized that attitude will always impede you from achieving true emotional intimacy.”

Her nostrils flared and she frowned. In an aggressive tone she asked, “What the hell do you know about my level of intimacy?”

I nodded. “Not nearly enough, yet. So let’s quit the seduction games and get to work, shall we?”

She didn’t surrender. “Christ, you are one cold bitch. And you’ve got the brass balls to lecture ME about intimacy issues? When’s the last time you had a good fuck?”

I didn’t flinch. “With whom, a man or a woman?” She widened her eyes. I nodded. “Yes, it does take one to know one, doesn’t it? Now, let’s pick up the story of your adolescence. Tell me about your life with your mother after your father died. What sort of accident was he in? Why did you say your mother killed him? That was clearly a severe trauma and I need to know more about it.”

Her smile faded and she glanced down to the left. I cut her off. “No lies, please. I looked up the police reports on his arrest for assaulting your mother and his accident, so I’m armed to detect falsehood. Anyway, I think I’ve earned a bit of trust from you.”

Again, her nostrils flared. “If you know so goddamn much what’s left for me to tell you?”

“You need to tell me in your own words your interpretation of the events and how they made you feel then and how they make you feel now. If you think I’m being intrusive, well, that’s what therapy has to be in order to do you any good.”

She gave the seduction one last try. She switched to the All American Girl, bright-eyed and sincere, and reached for my hand. “But I thought you were my friend.”

I didn’t take the proffered hand. “I’m not your friend and I’m not going to be your lover. I’m your doctor and I’m trying very hard to help you. Please understand that and stop play-acting. Answer my questions.”

Her shoulders drooped and the smile fell from her lips. She looked down and reached into her purse for a cigarette. Her hands shook as she lit it and expelled the smoke. “I read those reports too. After I turned eighteen. The cop who wrote up the one about the assault gave both versions, Momma’s and Daddy’s. But once they got Daddy back to the station, he agreed to not fight the charges if they left me out of it. He offered to make a deal. He’d plead guilty but get a suspended sentence so it’d be kept quiet and he wouldn’t lose his job. He would move out of the house and let Momma have a divorce on the grounds of mental cruelty.”

She paused. I had to prompt her to resume. “Under the circumstances, that sounds reasonable. Did the officer agree?”

She shook her head. “You read the report so you know he couldn’t. That was up to the district attorney’s office and Momma would have to agree to it. Good damn luck with that.”

I nodded. “And the accident?”

She closed her eyes. Tears leaked down her cheeks. “He ran the car off the Back Bay Bridge and drowned. Testing showed he was drunk. But I never even saw him drink a can of beer watching a ball game. There was never any alcohol in the house and he never went out. He was strictly a homebody. After I read the police report, I asked my other grandmother, my dad’s mother, if she knew anything about Daddy drinking. Grandma told me her husband, Daddy’s father, had been a drunkard and abandoned them and that’s why Daddy never drank.”

I put a lot of sympathy into my voice. “You think he committed suicide?”

She slammed her fist on my desk. “Hell yes, I do, and that rancid bitch drove him to it.”

Of course, she meant her mother. I nodded. “That’s hard, I know. I’m very sorry. Did he have life insurance?”

She sat back. “Yes. After the funeral, I heard Momma tell her mother that he had enough life insurance for her to bury him, pay off the mortgage, and buy a new car.”

I continued. “But you didn’t know all the facts at the time, did you?”

Her nostrils flared again. “I knew enough. I knew he was dead and she lied to the cops. I’m not a fool. Any idiot could put two and two together and get four.”

“And you never confronted your mother about it?”

She snorted. “What would be the point? She’d just deny it and start on about how weak and useless Daddy was and we were better off without him. And if I heard that, I swear to God I would’ve put a fucking knife in her guts.”

“That’s a lot of anger for anybody to handle, especially a twelve year old child. So you choked down your feelings and shielded yourself with silence?”

The tears came down harder and she was on her third cigarette. She didn’t respond and I continued. “And you extended the silence to everybody around you. How long did that last?”

She shrugged. I tried to prompt her. “I found nothing to document you using drugs or alcohol at that time. No arrests for underage drinking or public intoxication or purchasing or using drugs. No shoplifting or other petty crimes. Does the record reflect reality?”

Vanessa nodded without commenting on me investigating her background. “I didn’t have money until I started working at a grocery store near the house. I was sixteen then. Momma knew better than to try to take my wages. I think maybe she was a little scared of me.

“Anyway, by the time I was seventeen, I had saved enough to buy a used car. Actually, I gave Grandma Fontaine, you know, Daddy’s mom, the money and she bought the car because I was too young. I got a better job at a dress store further away. And when I finished high school, I went over there to get a degree.” She pointed out the window toward South Mississippi Polytech.

The hour was over. I put my pen down. “I don’t have any patients waiting today. Do you feel like continuing?”

She snubbed out her cigarette. “So, you’re not angry with me?”

I shook my head. “No. You know you have issues you need to work through and I know that your negative actions stem from your issues. You need to realize that, too. I don’t want you to feel remorseful about what happened last time. But I do want you to understand I can only help you if you and I retain a proper doctor/patient relationship. And that does not include seduction games. You and I are only human and we shouldn’t stretch the lines of propriety.”

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