Chapter 12

Marc bounced his knee nervously, though it was the only give away. Otherwise he was tense and straight, glaring down the glossy magazine covers set out in front of him. He checked his watch again even though he knew he was early and shouldn’t be expecting them to be out yet.

He’d decided to go with it and had set up a counseling appointment. He’d looked one up—and gotten more than enough results—and spent almost an entire day narrowing it down to someone who sounded good. He assumed he was supposed to be able to connect with the person, but he would see how that went.

Some Doctor Jordan Sterling that was around his age, although Marc still wasn’t sure if it was a man or a woman. He decided he really shouldn’t care at this point since they both had their ups and downs. He was slightly more nervous about talking to another man though.

He let out a sigh of relief as a dark haired woman came out and stopped by reception as she was pointed in his direction. Marc stood up quickly and shook her hand without much greeting. “Marc Lane,” Marc said curtly.

“Doctor Sterling,” she said, smiling at him and guiding him back to an office.

It was large enough to not feel cramped—if it was any smaller he would have called it cozy. There was a two person couch and a few single arm chairs, as well as her desk and a shelf full of books. Marc started inspecting the books while he could so that he could get a sense of what she might be like.

“Marc,” she interrupted gently. “Do you want to take a seat?”

He grunted and went for the blue arm chair closest to the door. He lounged back and spread out at first, before feeling like that might be rude and correcting himself to crossing one leg over the other and folding his arms against his chest.

“So in the paperwork, you said you haven’t been to counseling before,” she recited. “I can’t disclose anything discussed with anyone else unless you give me written permission, and if anyone calls to see if you’re a patient, I’ll say I know nothing. However, I’m a mandatory reporter in cases of abuse or the threat of someone hurting themselves or others. Is that all good?”

Marc just nodded his head, feeling only slightly better. It’s not like anyone would be calling to check in and see what he was talking about anyways—no one knew he was here, not even Brendan at this point. Marc would probably tell him afterwards.

“So what brings you to my office today?” Dr. Sterling asked, folding her hands in her lap. There was a clipboard by her feet but she wasn’t reaching for it yet.

Marc didn’t even know where to start, so he went with the easy one: “My dad,” he said shortly, though he knew it wasn’t very much to go on. They stared at each other for a minute as he waited for her to say something and Dr. Sterling waited for him to say more. “I recently cut him out of my life,” he went on. “I made it clear to him that I don’t want him around myself or my daughter.” He was still expecting his father to call though.

“What prompted all of that?” Dr. Sterling asked.

Marc twitched slightly. It had taken what, almost two months for him to even tell Brendan that? But then counseling was supposed to talk about these things. “He was… very abusive to me growing up,” Marc answered quietly, shrugging his shoulders. “Even into my college years, until I stopped coming around for a while. I got married and had a child, so he started insisting on being part of my life again, and I let him because I thought I was supposed to. He was family.”

“And did anything happen to your daughter?” Dr. Sterling questioned, her eyes narrowing.

“No, Ariel… no,” Marc stressed clearly. “I wouldn’t leave him alone with her. Ever. But I ended up having to explain to her some why Grandpa won’t be around.” She’d at least understood that a little better than he thought she would.

“What made the change where you decided to make that move?”

Marc hesitated then. “Brendan,” he sighed. “He’s Ariel’s art teacher, and… the more he uses the word, I guess my first real friend recently. My dad showed up in Brendan’s class to talk to Ariel, and Brendan knew I was on bad terms, so he called me. I ended up telling him a few days later.” Because he hadn’t been able to sleep, and Brendan had noticed it all. “He’s been through… some similar stuff, so he helped me figure out what I needed to do.”

“What did your wife know through all of this?” Dr. Sterling questioned.

“She and I divorced about two years ago. She’s living in Italy right now. I have custody of Ariel,” Marc explained, realizing she didn’t know the details of everything quite yet. He felt like he was repeating himself since Brendan knew most of it.

That’s when Dr. Sterling picked up her clipboard for a moment, writing something down and then setting it aside. Marc stared at the offending clipboard, curious about what she’d written, but knew that’s what he shouldn’t be focusing on.

“What are your goals, if you think you have any, through counseling?” Dr. Sterling asked.

Marc had to stop to think about it. He’d been thinking about it some over the past few days regardless. “Overcoming things about my father,” he admitted. “Connecting better with people.” He ground his teeth then. “Knowing myself better.”

Dr. Sterling nodded and grabbed her clipboard again, maybe to write all of that down. “I think those are good,” she agreed, smiling at him. “How do you want to work on all of those? One at a time, a little on each, or just however it comes up?”

“I don’t know.” Marc did like the idea of a plan though. “A little on each.”

“Okay, then. I think it’s good as well that you managed to separate yourself from your father. How have you been feeling since then?”

“Better.” Less of the sick feelings he got in the mornings, and he’d been sleeping better. “I’m still worried about him showing up at some point, or calling again… he still wanted to call, but I told him not to.”

“Do you think he would still hurt you if he had the chance?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t that hard to imagine for Marc. If they’d had that talk in person instead of over the phone it would have been very different.

“And I’m guessing you feel like that has a lot to do with you connect, or don’t connect, with the people in your life,” Dr. Sterling theorized, moving subjects slightly.

“My ex said I was too emotionally disconnected, and Brendan says I need to relax more,” Marc explained. “And otherwise, most people just think I’m grumpy or something. Or like I feel like I don’t know how to interact with Ariel, because I don’t want to be anything like my father in that relationship.”

“Understandable. But would you say you have a good relationship with Ariel?” she asked.

“Yes, I guess. She seems happy, aside from things with her mother and recently with her grandfather,” Marc explained. “And I’ve been making myself go out more with other people.” Brendan had started making him do it all though, and Marc had just kept going. Brendan was a whole other talk by itself that he wasn’t ready for yet, and he knew it.

“I think that’s good, and that’s something you should keep doing. You said Brendan is a friend, is there anyone else now?” she wanted to know.

“Alice,” Marc answered after a moment of thought. “Her son goes to school with Ariel. They got in a fight, and so she suggested a playdate, and now they get along famously. She’ll come over and we’ll work together while the kids are playing. And I guess I have a few acquaintances at work, but I’d rather keep work separate anyways.”

“And so what are you wanting to learn more about with yourself?”

Marc wasn’t ready for that yet. He stared her down and swallowed hard. “Things I ignored because of my dad,” he admitted softly, scowling in the process. “But not today.”

Dr. Sterling nodded and scribbled another something down. “Another time, then. It is a lot to talk about all at once.” She looked up at him then. “I do hope to hear about people like Brendan eventually, though.”

Marc didn’t say anything. It was like she already knew, but he wasn’t sure. He just nodded and they changed the topic back to his father for the rest of the hour. She let him leave then, and he hurried from the office there and back to his house.

Brendan had been in charge of watching Ariel after Marc had driven them over. Neither of them were downstairs when he got there, so he checked up in Ariel’s art room. Ariel was trying something with oil pastels, and Brendan’s fingertips were bright pink. He looked up at Marc guiltily. “How was your meeting?” Brendan asked, trying to hide the fact that Ariel’s hands were also covered in a number of colors, and her clothes.

Marc sighed and pulled Ariel up to her feet. “It was fine.” Brendan would get too excited about it now if Marc told him anything, and Marc was already talked out. An hour of nothing but sharing was intense. He did feel less on edge, without even realizing he’d been on edge to begin with.

“Dish soap would help with her hands, but I don’t know about her clothes,” Brendan mumbled carefully. “She was wiping her hands off before I noticed.”

“It’s fine,” Marc said, trying to sound earnest about it. He wasn’t really upset—at least Ariel had been changed out of her school uniform before getting pastel over everything.

Marc helped Ariel was her hands and then sent her to her room to change clothes. “How was your date on Saturday?” Marc finally made himself ask. He’d been trying not to think about it, and he’d at least made it till Tuesday.

“It was good.” Brendan grinned sheepishly. “He was nice, so I’m giving it another shot.”

Marc just nodded and held back on asking more questions. “What about Alice?” Brendan asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“She and her husband invited me over for dinner sometime,” Marc said, making sure Brendan got the hint there.

“Ah,” Brendan nodded. “Anyways. Mind giving me a ride home, or do you want me to hang around?”

“I should take you home,” Marc admitted. He had a lot to do and Brendan was an all to welcome distraction.