“Well, you tested high on our anger scale,” she said.
I nodded. “Okay?” The room we were in put us a little too close to one another. I tried reading the pamphlets on the desk between us to seem uninterested.
“Sorry,” she said, looking down at her notes. “I didn’t mean to start the session off this way. Why do you think you should be here?”
Her skin was a shade of walnut. She had dark hair that was tied up loosely behind her ears by a single purple ribbon. I sat on the wooden edge of a pool table in the middle of the bar. The seat put me at eye level with her. I think her name was Michelle.
“This is the first time that I’ve seen you come in here alone,” she said.
“Alone? I brought the rest of them,” I said, motioning to the rest of the group. They had begun to disperse around the bar, with their drinks or ladies in hand.
Oh. The girlfriend, I thought to myself.
Michelle held my hands, and I thumbed at her purple nail polish. She smelled like perfume samples and cheap makeup.
“What’s it like to have a free night?” She said.
My roommates were gone for the weekend; I had the entire apartment to myself.
“Well?” She said.
I led her outside and into my car. A few minutes later, we were outside my apartment. Besides a few cars and some dim lampposts, the lot was empty.
“Hey Mark… and friend,” Carlin sneered, from the apartment door across from mine. “How was the night?”
Her head was just barely peeking out of her door. I could read the smirk on her eyebrows.
“It was fine. It was busy,” I said, making my way into the apartment. I pulled Michelle in with me.
The office felt a little smaller and a little hotter. The doctor’s face was a confusing mix of concern and focus.
“She stayed the night then?” The doctor said.
“Yeah, and I saw her a few times after that.”
“And where was…”
“Always out of town. She has meetings and conferences that take her out of town over the weekends.”
“And do you think that she’s with other guys. While she is out of town?”
“I don’t know. I doubt it. I love her, I guess. That’s why I’m here in the first place, to fix all of this.”
“All?”
***
I was lying across the lap of my friend. Her knees were straight, and she sat with her back against the headboard of her bed in the basement. Soft light poured in through the window wells surrounding the ceiling. I worked early during the summer and had time to lounge around before dinner.
“Why do you think they are always upset at our meetings?” I said. “If I go to offer my opinion, Jules and Christie simply ignore me or look distracted. We’ve spent the last year or so looking over and refining our strategy. Yet, they still ignore the process and will not give us funding.”
It was the second year of business for our small, 100 member, start-up. We spent most of our time looking into content strategies for local businesses.
“I don’t think it’s your plan,” Kate said.
“What else could it be?” I said. “They’ve only spent the last few months managing. Most of the stuff that comes across their desks is just for stamping anyways, and I always stay out of their way.”
“I think that it might be about you.”
“Me? What?”
“Remember, their friend? The girl you spent all of that time with, sneaking around.”
“Oh.”
“It was at the same time you were seeing your girlfriend!”
“I’m still seeing her. I’m getting help, you know. I am going to a doctor to talk about it, so I won’t do it again.” The duvet I was laying on felt coarse now.
“You think that’ll make a difference to Jules, Christie, or the rest of work?”
“Does it make a difference to you?”
***
We were out at an event in Atlanta for the weekend; part of the recruitment team had come from the company. Georgia Tech, Georgia State, and Marquette, were all on our list of key schools to scout from. Jules had recently been appointed to executive, along with me. We worked together, along with two interns, to facilitate these collegiate resource fairs. We were there to shake hands and make a few of the college recruits feel welcome.
“What did you think of being away from the grind?” I asked.
“It is definitely different from working with our team back in D.C.,” Lindsey said. “These college kids are a lot friendlier. I could get used to working with all of them. They seem to still be so full of life.” She pointed towards a group of new hires from Tech, further down the bar.
“We aren’t that old, are we? We have only been out of school a few years,” I said.
“Calm down, you’ll hurt yourself if you try to act like them,” Jules said, walking up from behind. “We’ve got a big day with Marquette tomorrow, so get back to the hotel soon, alright?”
“Of course,” I said, “we’ll be home before the street lights come on.”
Jules, finishing her drink in a single swig, rolled her eyes and walked out. I had not taken my eyes off Lindsey and my fourth glass from the bar was making that task more difficult. We were like college kids. It was a weekend night and neither of us wanted to call it early. Lindsey and I rounded up the students across the bar and did a round.
“It’s like we’re back at school. Am I right?”
She seemed to agree. We snuck out of the bar, into the hotel, and pretended to be in school again.
***
“Mark, have you got anyone else to talk to?” She said, erasing and rewriting in her notes.
“I don’t suppose you mean that I talk to my girlfriend about this?” I said.
“No. I feel like you have involved everyone. Do you have a friend who is not involved?”
I wondered why I should spend my time in that office. Why pay her to talk to me? The pictures up on the wall had depictions of strangers smiling. The word “confidence” was written underneath.
“What do you suppose I do? Should I walk up to a stranger, and ask them how to fix me?”
“Obviously, your problem is getting into every part of your life. If we find a way to channel it, maybe we can fix your life for you?”
I thought about Kate.
“What about Kate?”
“Who is Kate?”
“I know someone who is involved, but not that involved with my life.”
I left her office feeling drained and alone. I had missed text and calls that have not been returned. The warm weather was not a comfort. I got into my Chevy coupe and drove. I saw miles of green, trees and hills and mountains. I remembered the summer trips with my girlfriend.
The sun beat down through the windshield while we cruised along to the sound of my shifting car and catchy tunes. Even slick with sweat, her pale skin looked perfect in the light. She smelled sweet from her lotion. It was impossible for me to take my eyes of her. She was beautiful and I loved her. I still love her. Why do I still search for comfort outside of her? I waste my time with these girls. Kate had been a wonderful friend. I could talk to her. Kate would understand. Should I talk to her, before my girlfriend?
I came out of my thoughts, some thirty miles along the road out of town. It was getting late. The air conditioning, humming in the background, had settled my wandering mind. I spun the car back around.
The lights were on inside of my girlfriend’s house. From the car, I could see the television flickering romantic comedies and sitcoms. I had been there for an hour, so far. The heat from my breath had started a titanic scenario on the windows. I was wiping the windows, watching her house, and checking my phone. I hoped the message, “I had just left the office,” would keep her from calling me. I dialed Kate. She was still up.
“Mark?”
“I think, I’m going to set things right,” I said. I opened my car door and began to pace.
“You’ll talk to your girlfriend?”
“I’m outside her house right now. But, I need to talk to you afterwards; will you still be awake?” I walked up to the front landing, and stole a glance through the window.
“Are you going to settle things with her?”
“Yes; then, I’ll be over.”
I reached for the doorbell. My hand grabbed my car keys instead. I shook my head, took another look through the window and headed back towards my car. I made sure the automatic lights would not shine through her window when I drove off.
I waited for Kate to come to the door. I checked my watch in the moonlight; I had taken the long way over.
“How did everything go over?” Kate said.
“It was short.” I reached for my phone and turned it off. I let myself in. “Can we talk about this inside?” I said, stepping through the doorway.
She reached behind me and closed the door.
—
Dave Arbus is a senior Writing & Rhetoric student at James Madison University. In his free time you’ll find him memorizing rap lyrics and practicing his smile. He hopes to one day to join the PGA tour and spend the rest of his life out on the links.
