Life goes on – chapter two

January 2015

The following week, Spencer walked towards the recreational hall. There was a light covering of snow on the ground from the night before. He walked up the steps to the building and stopped as he realised all of the lights in the building were off. The old caretaker was just stepping out of the door as Spencer approached him.

"Sorry son, the heating has packed up. There'll be no chess today," the old man told Spencer. "Hopefully, we'll be all fixed by next week."

"Oh," Spencer said as he looked regretfully towards the doors of the hall. He'd been looking forward to today all week. His thoughts drifting to the intriguing woman he'd met the week before. He felt the disappointment set in as he realised they wouldn't be able to see each other this week. When he told Morgan about her last week, he had been trying to figure out what had sparked his interest in her. Spencer was initially guilty, his thoughts turning to Maeve and he felt like he may have been betraying her in some way.

Several times Spencer had considered not coming, but he felt compelled to be there. He didn't want to break his promise to Helen.

Spencer watched the caretaker get into his car and drive off. Standing at the top of the steps he looked regretfully at the building before he heard a rustling behind him. Turning he saw Helen, wrapped up tightly in her coat, her focus on the ground. "Uh, hi," Spencer called as she walked up the steps. Her head snapped up, and their eyes connected briefly. Spencer flashed a small smile as he gestured towards the hall behind him. "The heating isn't working, so there's no chess today."

Helen looked past him to the doors, and she looked dismayed as she saw the lights off. Suddenly she realised that Spencer was still watching her, and found his scrutiny unnerving. Despite the cold, she felt the perspiration on the back of her neck as the panic set in. She didn't want a set back like this, she had been doing so well.

The urge to flee became overwhelming and she turned to go when Spencer called out to her. "Would you like to have coffee?" Helen looked over her shoulder doubtfully at him, wondering his motives. Seeing his sincere expression, she took a deep breath as a flare of hope return. Maybe there wouldn't be a set back.

"I would like that," she told him with a shy smile. Immediately Spencer's smile grew and Helen was glad she had accepted his offer.

…..

Twenty minutes later they were settling themselves in a small coffee shop. Spencer placed their coffee on the table between and looked up when he heard Helen trying to disguise a laugh.

"What?" He asked, confused.

Helen gestured to the scarf he was loosening from around his neck. "Um, the scarf is just like the one Doctor Who wore."

Spencer's lips quirked as he looked down at the piece of clothing. "I knitted myself actually, for the Doctor Who convention a few years ago."

Helen's eyes sparkled with the new knowledge. "You knit?" She didn't know what it was that made her feel comfortable around Spencer.

"I find it quite relaxing, it keeps my hands busy," Spencer explained, before he took a sip of his coffee. For a few minutes they were silent, which became slightly awkward. "What do you do?"

"Um, I'm a researcher with the Smithsonian," Helen told him. "What about you?"

"I'm a profiler for the FBI."

"You said you get called away a lot," Helen enquired hesitantly, not sure if she was allowed to ask those questions.

"The team who I work with do consultations around the country," Spencer explained. He thought back to the question that plagued his mind all week. "How long have you been playing chess?" He asked, wanting to ease into the real question, not wanting to scare her.

"Almost all my life, my grandfather taught me," Helen swallowed the lump in her throat. Feeling her leg beginning to shake, she took a couple of deep breaths in hope to control her on coming panic attack. She gripped her cup tighter.

Spencer glanced at the leg that was bouncing, and became concerned at the deep breathing. Sensing that she was in the early stages of a panic attack, he watched her face and her eyes which were darting around the room, trying to see if anyone was watching her. Spencer leant into her line of vision, her eye widening as he captured her attention. "Focus on me," he said, breathing steadily as he placed a reassuring hand over hers on her cup.

She did as he asked, and she found her breathing fall into sync with his. Her heartbeat slowed as she felt the panic leave her. Helen shot Spencer a guilty look. "I'm sorry," she said. "I've…I'm…I've been having therapy for them," Helen confessed.

"It's okay," he reassured her. He wanted to ask her more, but didn't want to make her anymore uncomfortable than she already was. Helen took a couple of shaky breaths before she moved her hands slightly underneath his, indicating that she wanted to drink. Immediately he released her, and she lifted the cup to her lips, the coffee warming her.

Spencer watched as she drank. Even though her head was bowed, Helen kept her eyes on him, finding his presence oddly soothing. She could see the questions in his eyes. He deserved an explanation, but Helen was unsure if she would be able to get through it. She needed to face this, it was the part of the therapy. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the coffee before placing the cup back on the table. "I've had panic attacks since I was a child," Helen explained, feeling calmer now. "At first it was my ability to talk to groups of people, but then it developed into anxiety of new social situations. I'm okay one on one. When I'm at work, I tend to only interact with my boss," Spencer's gaze was gentle, encouraging her to continue. "I was teased a lot, so much so, that what started as normal anxiety developed into panic attacks." Helen took a sip of coffee, giving herself a break in her explanation, to deal with her own memories.

Spencer nodded in understanding, not wanting to say anything to disrupt her flow. "I dealt with it by not putting myself in those situations," Helen said. "Before my mother died, she encouraged me to get help. I've been seeing a therapist since." Spencer took a sip of his coffee.

"It's part of my therapy to try new things," Helen smiled slightly as she thought of the progress she had made the previous week. "I like chess, so my therapist encouraged me to start going to the park to play so I would meet new people. It took me six months of watching to get up the courage to sit down opposite someone."

Spencer smiled at the memory. "You should be proud of the progress you've made," he told her gently. A pink blush tinted her cheeks as she smiled herself, nodding. "I lost someone a few years ago," Spencer told her. "After she died, I stopped doing things that I associated with her. I started going to the park as part of my own therapy."

They sat drinking their coffees in silence as they were both absorbed in their own thoughts. "I'm sorry for your loss," Helen said after a few minutes. "Thank you."

"For what?" Spencer asked.

"For inviting me for coffee, for listening, for sharing," Helen took another deep breath. "I mean you're a stranger, you don't know me, but you took the time to listen and comfort me. That's never happened before." Something clicked in his mind and Spencer leant forward, resting his forearms on the table.

"I would like to get to know you," he told her hesitantly. He felt a strong affinity with the woman sitting beside him.

Helen couldn't hide her shock, but she nodded. "I would like that." Spencer's smile was infectious, and Helen found herself returning it as he took a card from his wallet.

"Um, this is my information, if you want to meet for coffee again or just to talk." Helen took the card from him. His phone beeped, and he reached into his pocket. He read the message quickly and typed a reply, before looking at Helen apologetically. "I'm sorry; I've just been recalled to work." Helen nodded in understanding.

As he readied himself to leave, she got a pen and napkin, jotting down her number. "My number," Helen explained as she held the napkin out to her. Their fingers brushed as he took it from her.

"Hopefully, the heating will be fixed before next weekend," he said as he tightened the scarf around his neck. Spencer felt reluctant to leave her; he wanted to learn more about her. But he had to go. "I hope to be there, if I'm not still away," Spencer told her.

Helen nodded. "I'll see you next week," she assured him as he left.