“How long would it take?” she asked.
“Did you ever ask your father how long someone would have to be in therapy to achieve certain results?”
“I never had to ask,” she said. “He sometimes described certain nameless patients and their problems and some of them were going to see him for years!”
“Well, that is not the case with you. I can’t say this with absolute certainty without thorough testing, but I don’t believe you suffer from any sort of mental disorder that would require long-term therapy and even drug therapy. You have a few personality quirks that I suspect are more force of habit than anything. Some guidance and tweaking might benefit your overall sense of well-being.”
“Will it make me happy?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “I’m often surprised by where people find happiness. Some poor souls find it in horrible and dangerous places, but you aren’t one of those people. I usually caution my clients to be very careful in looking for happiness because it can be elusive, sneaky, even diabolical and tricky. But if I help you find a sense of well-being and confidence you may blink once and think, That felt like happiness. Most people are about as happy as they make up their minds to be—a quote most often attributed to Abraham Lincoln.”
“Well, let me ask you this,” she said. “Are you happy?”
“Oh, I’m tremendously happy. Every day. My wife says I’d be happy in a ditch with bombs falling on my head. I don’t think that’s entirely true. I suffered through a hemorrhoidectomy very unhappily and I was very grumpy. But I had heart bypass surgery and it was difficult but I was very happy to be alive and was praised as the best patient in ICU.”
She made a face and crossed her arms over her chest. “I think I’m being had,” she said.
“Would you like to appraise again in, say, six weeks?” he asked.
“Is that what you recommend?” Jessie asked.
“Here’s what I think, Jessie. I think, given your intelligence, discipline and determination to excel, you will have a very good life with or without me. But if you also want joy, I might know a shortcut or two.”
“Does that line always work?”
“Most of the time,” he said. “Life’s surprises can get in the way or delay progress, you know how it is. But you’re sitting in a nice spot right now. I predict good results for you. What do you say?”
She thought for a moment. Although she was tired from talking about herself, tired from digging into her emotions, she had rather enjoyed the hour. “What have I got to lose? Let’s see where we are in four weeks.”
“Excellent. Listen, do you like cats?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“I just had a thought. You might like having one. They’re very independent, answer to no one, usually self-sufficient, sometimes affectionate, more often not, but... But they’re company. There’s something about being owned by one that fills the lonely space with a presence. And hair. Tons of hair. I have a cat. And a robo vac.” There was the sound of a door closing in the hall. “I have a group starting shortly. When would you like to come back?” He pulled his iPad from his desk, opened it and said, “I have Tuesdays at five for the next several weeks, if you’re interested.”
She took it. And as she was leaving his building, she felt oddly relieved.
For three years and change Anna had looked forward to going to work in the morning. Even during the pandemic when they kept going to the courthouse at a minimum for safety reasons, and when they did work there, they were few and wore masks. The plastic shields and face guards were still up in the courtroom.
On this Monday morning, Anna went in a bit early even though she wished to be somewhere else. Her weekend with Joe had been so wonderful. They had a beautiful Saturday road trip and stopped at several vineyards, then had dinner at an oceanfront bistro in Bodega Bay, the same town Joe’s daughter, Melissa, lived in. “That’s how I know the best spots.” Then home to Anna’s house and Joe spent the night.
After a long, slow Sunday morning with Joe, Anna had gone to see her mother in the afternoon. Blanche gave only a slight expression of recognition before she began asking for things.
“Can I have a glass of juice?
“Reach for that throw at the end of the bed—my knees are cold.
“Where is that other nurse, the one whose name I always forget?
“Are we playing mah-jongg today?