Intensive Therapy Part 10

"Why me?" he said.

"Because I believe you won't judge me, and that you'll see the whole me, not what you need me to be."

Jonas held her while she cried. "You must have gone for therapy," he said.

"Where? I couldn't go in Philadelphia. Mom and Dad know everybody."

"How about Marta? She seems so nurturing. Couldn't you confide in her?"

"Nurturing? You don't know her, Jonas," Jennie said stridently.

Jonas was taken aback by the fervor in her voice. He hadn't realized that she felt this way about her mother.

She continued, "The last thing I needed was to be preached at by someone who spent my entire childhood telling me what a spoiled brat I was. If it had been up to her, she would have packed me off to the farm every summer to pick strawberries like she did when she was young. Thankfully, Dad saw it differently. He knew I wanted to spend summers at art camp and on writing retreats. When I have children I want them to be themselves. Growing up is complicated enough without your parents sending you mixed messages."

"What about New York? There's a therapist on every corner."

"I felt like such a fool. Retelling the story would have just made me relive the nightmare."

"You've been sitting on this all by yourself?"

"Yes," Jennie said.

"How long?"

"Too long. For months, I dragged myself to work. The girl's voice was burned into my brain. As time pa.s.sed, I felt angrier at myself for being such a victim than at Peter for being such a schmuck. We settled quickly. The divorce was quick. I could have blackmailed him for alimony, but I knew that would keep me tied to him.

"My folks eased up on me. Mom wants to make things better between us-I know she feels guilty. Dad promised not to say, 'I told you so.' I told the people at work I needed time off. They said I could come back whenever I want."

"Does that mean you're moving back to New York?"

"Not necessarily. Sotheby's has an office in Haverford. I could rent a place in Center City and reverse commute. The bulk of my job is on the road." Jennie drew Jonas close to her. "I can't believe I told you. You must think I'm such a-"

"Don't a.s.sume. If I told you half of what I did during my jeunesse ..."

"That's a wonderful French word! Have you been studying?" Jennie sounded eager to move on from her story. She pulled out ski maps of Villars and Zermatt, which she shared with Jonas.

After dinner, they staked out two empty rows of seats and lay down facing each other where they could brush hands and talk.

A veil had lifted. Jonas knew he was traveling with someone very special. By the time the subject returned to skiing, Jonas knew it was a metaphor for their future. "Are you sure I won't fall off a cliff in Zermatt?" he asked drowsily.

"You'll be fine. I know every trail like the back of my hand. I promise not to take you anywhere you don't feel safe."

20.

Sat.u.r.day, November 20, 2004

Martin and Victoria spent Sat.u.r.day trying to conduct business as usual even though Melinda had barricaded herself in her room. Martin got the names of several psychiatrists, but Victoria convinced him to hold off until Monday, saying there was someone she wanted to speak with first.

When she wasn't upstairs hovering about Melinda's door, Victoria was in the office conferring with several former Duke's staffers. The disgruntled employees delighted in the chance to see their ex-boss get his comeuppance. Everyone agreed that Horace Barlow had an arrogant, nasty streak. If the case wasn't handled delicately, he would readily make a big stink.

The Arrestias' daughter was on the calendar, as well. She confirmed how convoluted the relationship was between Barlow-who used to be a frequent guest at her home-and her parents.

Victoria and Martin took turns checking on Melinda, tacitly agreeing that she couldn't be left alone. Not a sound issued from her bedroom, although the quiet felt like the silence before a cannon barrage.

When she heard Melinda's door open Victoria rushed upstairs, trying to sneak a peek at her elusive daughter, but by the time she got to the third floor, Melinda had already locked herself in the bathroom.

Victoria waited on the landing, unsure whether or not to say something. Before she could open her mouth Melinda said through the closed door, "I know you're out there. Stop following me."

Sometime during the late afternoon, Martin and Victoria ventured into the living room for some R-and-R. When the conversation turned to holiday plans, Victoria said, "You know we can't go anywhere until Melinda is settled. I don't know about Thanksgiving."

Martin said, "Well, the Cruickshanks will have their usual New Year's Eve bash. We can always show up at the last minute."

"Ah yes, Martin, New Year's Eve," Victoria said dreamily.

"What about it?"

Victoria forgot her troubles for the moment; the tension in her face dissolved into a warm glow. "I was remembering my first New Year's Eve away from home," she reminisced. "It almost feels like it was another me."

21.

Thursday, December 31, 1981

Winter vacation in Abington wasn't nearly the nightmare Victoria had antic.i.p.ated. Mornings, she sneaked out early and caught a train to be with her friends. In the evenings, Bucky drove her home.

The morning of New Year's Eve, Victoria bounced downstairs toting an overnight bag, which she deposited by the front door. Lorraine spotted the suitcase immediately.

"Victoria, I didn't know you had plans."

Victoria thought, Yes, Mother. I'm sleeping with my boyfriend for the first time tonight. She said, "You know the new friends I've made, Mother? Leslie-she helped me with biology-she's throwing a party tonight. Bucky usually drives me home, but because it's New Year's Eve, Leslie said I could stay with her."

"I like this Leslie. She sounds like a girl with a good head on her shoulders. It's rea.s.suring that you're in good hands tonight."

Victoria grinned, having carefully studied erotic ma.s.sage in The Joy of s.e.x the night before.

"How old is Bucky?"

"Twenty-five."

"What does he do?"

"He's a neuroscientist and a psychiatrist. He was a gymnast at UCLA." Victoria said, certain her mother would notice the allusion.

"A gymnast? Like you see on TV? At the Olympics? They're so ... They're so ... I thought they were all gay."

"I really don't think Bucky's gay, Mother."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes mother. Very sure."

"Oh." A moment later, Lorraine's face turned pink. "Oh, I see."

"I'll call you about the rest of the weekend. I might be staying more than one night," Victoria said, departing gracefully before Lorraine could recover.

Although the thermometer outside read 22 degrees, Victoria felt pleasantly warm.

"Victoria?" Morris Schone called after her. "Would you like a ride to the station? I'm headed into the city, too."

Victoria hadn't realized her father was still home. "Thanks, Daddy," she said, recalling long ago when Morris used to twirl her in the air to their mutual delight. What happened to that man? she wondered. Where did he go? Victoria couldn't recall the last time they had spent any time together, let alone side by side on the train for an hour.

Morris dropped Victoria at the station and parked. By the time he caught up with her, she had already purchased her one-way ticket.

"You didn't have to do that," he said.

"Oh yes, I did," she said, remembering the last time her father bought her something. "I'm never going to be on the receiving end of a rant like you pulled on me about the coat in Florence. Maybe you don't remember, but I do."

Morris hung his head. "I felt bad about that."

"You could have fooled me. I can't take that s.h.i.t anymore. I don't deserve it. Besides, it was Mother's idea to take me shopping that day, not mine."

Morris shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "It's not easy living with your mother. She expects. She demands."

He father looked older, even frail. Victoria said, "That's her. Not me. I never nagged you for things. All I wanted was for you to feel happy with me. You were the handsomest daddy around, and I was so proud to be your daughter. Look what's become of you. You let her walk all over you. You drink yourself into oblivion, then you vilify me for getting the h.e.l.l out so I can live a normal life around normal people."

"I didn't know you felt that way. Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because I love you. Otherwise, I wouldn't care. It hurts that you don't have the b.a.l.l.s to stand up to her."

An icy wind lashed their faces on the train platform. Morris positioned himself aweather, to shelter Victoria from the cold. When the train arrived, he found adjacent seats and hoisted Victoria's bag into the overhead compartment. She felt protected for a moment. Then, she laughed out loud.

"What's so amusing?"

"I was thinking about my new friends and the party. They really like me, Daddy. Except for Leslie's friend Charlese-she's a nurse Leslie likes a lot; Leslie's pushing her to go to medical school-they're all graduate students. It's amazing how well they manage on very little money. We have so much fun."

"I'm happy for you, Victoria. I had a fraternity brother in college named Izzy Stein. Before we got married, your mother and I did things with Izzy and his fiancee, Lizzy. Everyone joked about their names. Izzy was a good friend. After they got married, they had a boy-Isaac. We had a birthday party for you at their house when you turned two. You probably don't remember, do you?"

"No. I wish I did."

"You and Isaac always played together. You were so happy. I can still hear you giggling."

"What happened to them?"

"I lost touch. Your mother didn't like something Lizzy said or did, and we didn't see them again. I ought to look him up."

"Yes, you should. It would be good to have your own friends. And your own life."

Morris looked at Victoria seriously. "I want you to know I heard what you said before."

"Good. I meant it."

"About this young man you're seeing?"

"His name is Bucky."

"You've become an attractive young woman, Victoria. No matter what you think of me, I'm still your father. What does he do?"

"He's a psychiatrist-in-training, and a researcher. I respect him a lot."

"Does he treat you well?"

"Yes, he's a gentleman. I feel safe with him."

Morris winced. "Maybe I could take you two out for dinner after work some evening."

Victoria looked past her father. "We'll see," she said.

"Is this about my drinking?" he asked.

"I've made it clear how I feel about that," she replied.

They got off the train at Suburban Station and walked several blocks in silence. Approaching City Hall, Morris brightened. He produced his credit card. "Here, Victoria. Please take this. I'm really sorry about what happened in Italy. Stop at Wanamaker's," he said gesturing across the street, "and get something special for tonight. Okay?"

"That's sweet, Daddy. I know just what I want," she smiled, thinking about some racy lingerie she had seen in Cosmopolitan.