Disclaimer: Desperate Housewives is not mine and it never will be.

Chapter Summary: Bree seeks an impromptu therapy session over lunch. A post-ep for "How about a Friendly Shrink?"

Coda

A story by Ryeloza

Thirteen:

Therapy Session

Dr. Albert Goldfine enjoyed the ambiance of his dining experience at Coral on the Roof more than he enjoyed the food. The music wafted through the room as light as air; the windows allowed sunlight to pour into the dining room; the tables were elegant and the waiters were snooty. Albert so rarely partook of these little flourishes that once every month or so it was pure heaven to escape to Coral on the Roof for lunch.

It was on such a day in January, as Albert had just laid his napkin across his lap and taken a sip of ice cold water, that he spotted a familiar redhead in the foyer, speaking with the host. If there were certain patients that were difficult for Albert to forget, this woman was completely impossible. Albert supposed that it was the natural result when one was assaulted by a patient's boyfriend. Still, he hadn't seen Bree Van de Kamp in years and the sight of her now stirred an ambivalent surge of horror and intrigue. As the host led Bree into the dining room, Albert instinctively snatched his menu from the table and used it to block his face. Being a curious man—a trait that had gotten him into as much trouble as it had personal success—Albert couldn't help but to peer discreetly at Bree as she passed. And, as luck would have it, Bree turned her head in his direction at the same moment. For a second, they stared at one another, but it was long enough for Albert to see the light of recognition dawn in Bree's eyes.

Albert ducked back behind his menu, though that wouldn't make a difference now, and thought that perhaps the odds were sixty-forty that Bree would avoid him. Repression had been her forte, but good manners could nearly cancel that out. As a minute slipped by, Albert breathed a sigh of relief, only to jump five seconds later when he heard, "Dr. Goldfine?" Defeated, Albert set down the menu, folded his hands on the table and looked up at Bree. "It's Bree Van de Kamp," she said, as though she needed to reintroduce herself.

"Hello, Bree. You look well." This was a half-truth. She was dressed as impeccably as ever and her hair had lost its stiffness; the result made her softer and sweeter. But she also had bags under her eyes that no amount of make-up could disguise and that same weariness beneath her dignity that Albert always thought of as her distinguishing characteristic.

"Thank you." She smiled, but it was slightly strained. "Are you dining alone?"

"Er—yes."

"Do you mind if I sit down for a moment? My dining partner isn't here yet."

Reluctantly, Albert nodded. He hadn't been able to stop her from doing this when she was a patient and he certainly had no grounds to now. Gracefully, Bree sat down across from him and laid her pocketbook on the table. "How have you been?" she asked.

"Fine. Work is going well. I'm relatively healthy. I can't ask for much more than that."

Bree pointed to his suit jacket and Albert glanced down to see a loose button. "Still not married, I take it."

As he did whenever someone brought up the subject of marriage, Albert allowed himself a momentary remembrance of his sweet Sarah, and then skirted the issue. "No, still not married." Bree nodded and smiled pleasantly; Albert knew she was waiting for him to return pleasantries. Drawing on all of his strength, he said, "And you, Bree? How have you been?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, things have been just terrible lately." Albert's eyes widened in surprise and he nearly choked on a sip of water when Bree continued: "Dr. Goldfine, I had an affair, and now things are just positively awful. I don't know what to do."

"Bree, you know I'm not your therapist any longer. It's probably best if we just keep the conversation focused on generalities."

"Oh, but this is an emergency. You know, I nearly brought my husband to you last year when he began to steal things, but I just couldn't face you again after what happened with George. But seeing you here, I just remembered how comfortable I felt talking to you and I really could use your help."

Albert scrambled for an excuse. "Aren't you meeting someone?"

"Just my son. And really, it's just a business appointment. I'll reschedule." Before Albert could protest, Bree whipped out her cell phone and punched in a text message. "You know I went into business for myself? And I wrote a cookbook!"

"That's…wonderful, Bree."

"Yes, it's been incredibly successful. I'll send you a copy of the book. You're still at the same office, right?"

"Uh, yes. You know, Bree, if you really want to talk I could find some time in my schedule for you to come in."

"But you're here now! It's perfect timing."

Albert floundered for a moment, but could not find the willpower to send Bree away. Despite his misgivings at getting involved in her life again, in five minutes she'd managed to be more interesting that his entire morning of patients. "So you remarried?" he asked.

"Yes. His name is Orson Hodge. He was a dentist when we got married."

"And how long have you been married?"

"Nine years. You know, we really don't need to go into all this. Orson and I were perfectly happy in the beginning. He was so sweet and attentive. He even helped me reconcile with my son. But then I found out that he ran down our neighbor with his car and that changed everything."

Albert thought that he probably shouldn't have been surprised, given Bree's history, but she still managed to shock him. "He ran over your neighbor?"

"He was trying to protect his mother, which I suppose could be construed as noble by some, but I just found it unforgiveable. I thought that if he just went to jail and made up for his crimes then everything could go back to the way it was."

"Atonement doesn't always work that way, Bree. You should know that it's not always an eye for an eye."

Bree gave him a startled look and then cautiously bowed her head, continuing as though he hadn't spoken. "I know that I probably should have just divorced him then. I loved him, though. But when he got out of prison he couldn't find a job and there was so much resentment and then he started to steal things!"

"Steal things?"

"Just little things from the neighbors. It was so horrifying. I had to go around returning everything. I had him talk to a therapist, but all he did was tell Orson that I was emasculating him and that I should sell my business! I couldn't do that. And I couldn't stay married to Orson while he was punishing me like that. So I called a divorce attorney."

"That sounds like it might have been the healthy choice, Bree."

"Yes, but then I began to have an affair with my divorce attorney. Of course, Orson found out and there was a huge confrontation. And then, did you hear about that plane crash right before Christmas?"

"Yes."

"That was on my street! Karl, who I had the affair with, was killed and Orson is paralyzed now and I just feel so guilty, like it's all my fault. I brought Orson home and I'm trying to care for him, but he's making it so difficult. He hates me for what I did to him, and truthfully, I'm still angry with him too. I just don't know what to do."

If Albert were unprofessional or callous, he would have laughed in disbelief. He'd forgotten just why Bree was so memorable. It wasn't a crazed boyfriend or being shoved off of an overpass; it was the incredible situations she managed to get into. And yet, her problems still boiled down to many of the basic ones all couples faced. She was an intriguing conundrum. Albert reached into his coat pocket and pulled out one of his business cards. "Call my secretary and set up an appointment, Bree. This is too much for just one lunch."

Bree took the card, but frowned. "Can't you give me some advice now?"

"There are no quick fixes for this."

"Oh, I understand. But I just need something to get me through the day. Something that I can think to myself when I'm positive I can't take another moment of being married to Orson."

"Bree, I once heard someone say that hate is simply love disappointed. Disappointment is hard, sometimes devastating, but if you can find a way to move past it then maybe you'll find your way back to that place of love."

In a show of emotion that Albert didn't associate with the Bree he'd once known, her eyes welled with tears and she nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Goldfine."

"You should still call for an appointment, Bree."

Bree nodded, but Albert knew by the way she composed herself and began to boss the waiter around just a moment later, that he wouldn't see her again.