#Chapter 40 – Therapy call

That night, I’m not surprised to hear the phone ring in my closet. It’s another unscheduled call – Victor is used to getting what he wants, when he wants it – but he’s starting to develop a pattern with when he needs his therapist.

Checking to ensure that the boys are asleep, I tuck Archie into my lap on the closet floor and pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” Victor’s voice is brusk, unsettled, and – as usual – robotic. “Is this a bad time?”

“No, I can talk. The…usual overages, will apply, of course.”

“Yes.” Victor hurries on, dismissing this. “I’m having trouble,” he says, “balancing…well, balancing my life. My responsibilities to the people who I love, who love me.”

“I see,” I say gently. “Did something…happen? To bring about your unsettled state?”

He pauses. “Yes, it did. It’s amazing that you can intuit that.”

I press my hand to my forehead, warning myself to be careful. “Comes with experience,” I say, pushing forward. “Please continue.”

“We had…an incident tonight, I guess that’s the right word for it. My son tripped my fiancé – I don’t think he meant to hurt her, but she was hurt. Everyone was very upset.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” I murmur.

“Thank you. The issue becomes that I took your advice, although it is perhaps also…instinct, knowing that my son was in the wrong. But I backed Amelia, and we left.”

I note, silently, that Victor has – for the first time – accidentally dropped a hint about his identity. “How do you feel about this?”

“Honestly? I feel horribly guilty. The boys were crying so hard when we left, and they accused me – falsely, of course – of not loving them. I know that they’re just kids, and they’re overreacting, and that they will, of course, not think that I don’t love them forever. But I have to admit – it’s just killing me that they think that. Even for one night.”

“That sounds really hard,” I say, my heart in my throat. “As a mom…I can definitely emote with how difficult it is when your sons challenge you like this.” Little does he know that I know precisely what he means, as his sons are, in fact, my sons.

hand. “Amelia needed me in that moment – I’m glad I stood by her…but

unfortunately. You just have to do

his frustration. He wants fast, direct

minute. Sometimes being there for then means

“What?”

Silently, I thank Mark for the knowledge and the metaphor. “You let the other, less dangerous flames wait until you deal with the big one. Then

him process the

“Going

– or so it sounds – and it was good that you went with her. It

what I’ve said. He stays silent on the other line and I wait for

you,” I say. “It seems to be something that throws you off more than anything else. That’s typically when I get these unscheduled calls, when you’re feeling unbalanced,

rather a…pattern in my life. Well, an old pattern. One I haven’t visited in

to

this way as a child –

have a family – I assumed, as is usually the case, that you were eager to reproduce something you experienced

what

of ten times,”

in the

eager to be married in order to fix their childhood trauma.

silent so, again, I push. “Do you

says, begrudgingly. “I felt a lot of pressure, as a child, to hold my parents together – or to be…perfect. So that I didn’t give

you’d like your

to enter his voice. “I’d…I’d feel horrible, if I was giving them that

that it’s okay to mess up, and make mistakes. That you being mad at them

what I’ve failed to do tonight, when I took Amelias side!?” He

raises his voice. “I think you need to embrace a little of the chaos. This is you, again, seeking the balance, wanting to be everywhere fixing everything at once. You’re that little boy

learn that it’s okay for them to sit with their frustration. That just because you don’t attend to them immediately, it doesn’t mean you don’t love them. They have to learn to trust that, in your hearts, you’re always going to come back, and always going

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