Psychoanalysis
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I awoke to fingers entangled in my messy bush of curls. A few shifts and creaking of the wooden king sized bed that I've gotten so used to sharing moves me to face the man that is now my husband. He's snoring a little bit and I can't help but almost laugh. He looks like a kid, then again he's around them so much he probably did imprint some qualities of twelve year olds he usually works with.
Bad thought. I really hope I didn't imprint off some of the people I work with. Cringe factor.
He starts to stir and I peer down at him with a grin.
"Good morning Bush." He says groggily. He is really not a morning person. But usually he's better than me so I really can't complain.
The bush rolls her eyes. Of course he has to tease me this early in the morning.
"Good morning sex addict."
He gives me his ouch face and I have to laugh. Yelling from down the hall. I lean my head back and groan and he laughs. By this time I'm straddling him and toying with his dark hair. He easily lifts me off and places me beside him as he gets up and pulls on a T-shirt. I check out his ass when he's not looking. I think he noticed anyway by the wink he gives me.
Something crashes.
Did I mention I am the mother of two twin boys and awaiting the birth of yet another child?
I am psycho.
"I take one you take the other." Cooper is telling me with a mock serious look on his face.
"Let's do it." High five. Ok attempted high five.
His eyes are twinkling as I do what I always do.
"TIMMY!! NICK!!!!"
The yelling and sounds of little feet come to an immediate stop.
Cooper takes the chance to bolt down the stairs and I follow a little bit more slowly. By the time I reach the kitchen, Cooper had one child slung over his shoulders with the other hanging on his legs.
My boys.
I give them the stern look, taking the scene before me. Nick with a baseball bat. Tim with the catcher's mitt and a ball. Empty space on the mantle between the trophies and pictures. Broken vase on the floor, lilies trodden on with water seeping into the cracks of the floor tiles. Sheepish faces, not only from the children.
Usually my philosophy is if you break it you pay for it, and clean it up. Not in this case. It's glass and my only anger about what my sons did was that one of them could've stepped in the broken glass and gotten seriously injured. Naturally I do my scolding. Five minutes later my husband and I had them at the table cheerfully eating Cheerios.
"Mommy are you coming to the game today?" Nick asks me as he builds a tower out of his soggy Cheerios.
Now all eyes are on me. Mommy is very busy. Mommy deals with many people that are used to things in a particular way. Changes equals problems. 'Monk' in real life.
"Please Mommy????" Whines my Tim.
"Yeah please Mommy?" Cooper chimes in and I could hit him.
I take a chomp from my apple enjoying the fresh taste along with the crisp morning. I can't resist them. "I'm gonna try okay? No promises."
High fives are exchanged. I hate saying yes to things I'm not sure about but they know something I know as well. No matter what comes up I'm gonna be there.
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Swift gears. Kids at school. Coop and I at work. Morning meeting. Naomi walks in looking more cheerful than I had seen her in a while. I know she and Sam are mending fences and judging by their faces, it's going well. For now anyway.
Addison trots in with Pete trotting at her heels. Pete is one of my patients though his file is mostly off record. Friend to friend instead of doctor to patient. Addison grins at me. I grin back. Newest addition to me and Naomi's girl club. Secret handshakes and all.
I look at my schedule that Dell has so sweetly typed up for me. Blonde hair and blue eyes, he looks like your ideal surfer boy with a body to match. He's got some quirks to him though. Midwifery skills included (My spell check says it's a real word).
I do a double take.
This is one time I really wish he hadn't typed my schedule out for me.
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"You are kidding." Cooper says pacing in a circle.
I plop down in an overstuffed couch that dominates his office besides his extremely messy desk. I note how adorable he looks with his hair messed up from him running his hands through it. I sink deeper into the chair and cover my lap with a pillow. I see the pattern. Ducks. I put it back.
"No I'm not. If I was, this wouldn't really get me my own show on Comedy Central."
"Why is he coming to you of all the shrinks in the LA area?"
"Because it's the chic thing now." Sarcasm.
"Or because he simply wants to spend time with you. Curly hair, crazy freak show and all."
Not amused.
"Cooper I have a real problem here!"
He snickers. "In more than one sense."
Okay Buster either off up some tips or feel the tip of my shoe in your unmentionable place.
"I'm gonna by professional. I'm gonna treat him like a normal patient."
"Which of your patients are normal?"
The shoe flies toward his head. Misses. Damn.
He holds up his hands in surrender and I relax. Warms across my shoulders. Feels good.
"Okay here is what we do."
"You and me? Or the me and the voices in my head that you're putting yourself in the place of."
"Both." He laughs. "Treat him and act like a professional, which you are so good at doing."
I can't tell if he's joking about the last part. Hope not. I may have to hurt him.
He kisses me on the forehead and I literally turn into mush. Favorite thing about Cooper. He runs his hands through my hair and leans in for a second kiss, this time lower. Ok second favorite thing.
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Awkward is a relative term. It came mean when no one has anything to say or if someone does something really stupid in front of you. Or when someone starts yelling the names of female body parts in a crowded waiting room. Mine falls into the there's- plenty- to- say -but –you- just- don't –want- to -say -it –so- you –sit- there -and –you-chew-on-your-pen category.
Okay enough. Be professional Violet. P-R-O-F-E-S-I-O-N-A-L. Two s's Vi.
"So would you like to tell me what you're feeling?"
Allan leans forward focusing his gaze on my face. I busy myself with my notepad.
"I've been feeling lonely lately. And Cammie is just really starting to make being happy difficult. She always needs me around and can't deal with me being gone for a while. And she has jealously issues. I just think I'm depressed."
I stop drawing daisies on my notepad for a moment. "Okay so let's start with your options, what do you think they are?"
"Leave Cammie."
I nod. "Continue." I'm doing well.
"Convince the woman that I left for her to take me back."
Scratch that.
"Well let's explore these options a bit further."
"Violet." He says it slow with an emphasis on the V. The way he always said it. "I'm not just another patient."
"None of my patients are just another patient." I reply, with a little bit of hesitation and hoping and he doesn't see it.
"I miss you. I miss your crazy ideas. Cammie's so safe, always following the line. I miss you and your loudness and you're curly hair."
"Cammie has curly hair." Lame.
"But she's not you."
"Yes a lot of women aren't me Allan, but you can still move on. Perhaps your marriage to Cammie is just going through a dry spell and all you need is a pick up on it."
"I doubt it."
"Who's the therapist?"
No reply. Doesn't mean I win.
"Anyway, let's start with the root of the problem. Your unhappiness with some of Cammie's antics."
He looks at me. The clock reads three ten. Oh. My. God.
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Author's Note:
I hope you're enjoying this so far. Review and tell me what you think and whether or not you want me to continue.
P.S. For all those who have been keeping up with my stories, I am very sorry for not updating like I'm supposed to. I've been having a very very busy schedule lately with the managing of my classes so I'm still trying to balance and will try to update as often as possible during the break I have currently for Thanksgiving. No promises. Really really really sorry.
