The afternoon session with Dr. Geissinger was slower to get off the ground than the first. Lisbon was surprised, having assumed that most people would have been more nervous at the beginning than now, once they'd all gotten to know each other. When she whispered as much to Jane, however, he shook his head and replied that everyone was reluctant to dig into the root causes behind the issues they had discussed that morning and actually deal with them. According to Jane, the morning session had been light and fluffy compared to what the afternoon had in store. Lisbon frowned. It certainly hadn't felt light and fluffy to her.
After the tenth round of patient, coaxing questions from Dr. Geissinger, Jane started to get antsy.
Lisbon recognized the signs. His eyes scanning the group and lingering on individual people after some minor gesture or comment. Uncrossing his legs, then crossing them again. Twice he took hold of Lisbon's wrist, checked her watch, and tutted.
An hour and a half into the session, Jane reached his limit. Lisbon tried to head him off at the pass, but it was no good.
He interrupted Dr. Geissinger mid-sentence. "Doc, if I may? We do have a party to get to tonight, after all. Mind if I speed things along?"
"Speed things along?" Dr. Geissinger said blankly.
"Doc, you're very good," Jane said indulgently. "I admit, I had my doubts at first, but I'm willing to admit when I've misjudged someone. You really know your stuff. But if I could just say one thing, I think I can move us along a bit more quickly."
"Okay," Dr. Geissinger said dubiously. "If you have an idea to facilitate more open and honest dialogue, I suppose it's worth a try."
"Great." Jane turned to Yvonne and said bluntly. "Yvonne, you're never going to get anywhere if you don't tell Michaela the truth."
Yvonne flinched.
Michaela turned to her. "Tell me the truth about what?"
"Nothing," Yvonne mumbled.
"The truth about why she cheated on you," Jane said to Michaela.
Michaela frowned at Yvonne. "You said…you said it was just a fling. Because she was different. And that different was exciting."
Yvonne hunched in her seat.
"Yeah, that was a big fat lie," Jane told Michaela. "Yvonne, tell her."
Yvonne pressed her lips together.
"Honey, what is it?" Michaela said. "You can tell me. I just—" she took a deep breath. "I just want to know the truth. I want to understand."
Yvonne turned her face away and shook her head mutely.
"Ask her," Jane urged Michaela. "Ask her the real reason she cheated on you."
Michaela looked doubtful, but she focused on Yvonne. "Baby, tell me. What's the real reason you cheated on me?"
Yvonne didn't answer right away. When she finally spoke, her voice was small. "Because I'm not smart enough for you."
Michael recoiled. "What? What are you talking about?"
"All your friends," Yvonne burst out. "They're all so smart and intellectual. None of them understand why you're with me. They all wish you'd get back together with Claudia, because she's smart like all of them. And we were getting married and I was afraid you were going to look up one day and realize what the rest of them already knew. And I panicked."
Michaela stared at her. "You cheated on me because you think you're not smart enough for me?"
Yvonne nodded miserably.
Michaela sat back in her chair. "Are you crazy?"
Yvonne flinched.
"Why on earth would you ever think you're not smart enough for me?"
"I never have a clue what you're even talking about when you guys start talking about history and politics—"
"Not caring about politics doesn't mean you're not smart," Michaela said, exasperated.
"Hear, hear," Jane said. "In fact, I would say ignoring what politicians say is the wisest course of action 99 percent of the time—"
Michaela ignored him and kept her gaze on Yvonne. "You see the world in ways I never could. You see beauty in the most extraordinary things. You understand people in ways I can't even fathom. Do you have any idea how much I've learned from you?"
Yvonne sniffed. "You mean that?"
Michaela leaned forward and kissed her. "Of course I do."
"There," Jane said. "Isn't that better?"
Yvonne and Michaela ignored him, too absorbed in one another to take any notice of anyone else, but Jane seemed satisfied.
He turned to Isaac. "Now for you, Isaac. Your turn."
"My turn?" Isaac echoed.
"Yes," Jane said firmly. "Shelly feels like you're drifting away from her. That she's pouring her love into you but that she'll never get that kind of love back from you in return. You need to tell her the truth of how you feel."
"I'm…not good at that," Isaac said.
"Love is hard," Jane said. "Suck it up."
"I—I don't know what to say," Isaac said, looking down at his hands. "I just want to be with her." He raised his head and looked at Shelly with eyes full of longing, as though she were his dearest object, but remained just out of reach. "She brings sunlight into every room."
Jane nudged Lisbon with his elbow, smug. He murmured in her ear, "Brooding poet. Didn't I tell you?"
"Oh, Isaac," Shelly said, her voice wobbly. She reached out her hand and clasped his. "You mean that?"
"I'm no good at talking about this stuff," Isaac said, threading his fingers through hers. "Maybe it's the generation I grew up in, because I see these young kids now and they can talk about anything with anyone. But I wasn't raised that way. It doesn't come naturally to me. I know I work a lot and I can't always tell you things about my job because of the nature of the work. But I work hard because I want to make the world a safer place for you." He bent his head and kissed her knuckles. "I wish I could make you understand that you're everything to me."
Shelly sniffed loudly. "R-really?"
He smiled at her. The overall effect was like a block of ice cracking. "Why do you think I agreed to come on this damn retreat in the first place?"
Shelly got up out of her chair and threw her arms around him. He put his arms around her and gripped her tight, silent and sure.
Lisbon found herself tearing up unexpectedly at the emotional outcome of this exchange. Embarrassed, she dashed at her eyes with the back of her hand, but a quick glance around the circle revealed there wasn't a dry eye in the place. Except for Jane, who was grinning broadly, pleased as punch.
Jane leaned over and whispered in her ear. "See Lisbon? Feelings aren't so bad when you give them a chance."
She elbowed him in the ribs and dashed at her eyes again. "Oh, shut up."
"Well, Patrick," Dr. Geissinger said. "Now that Isaac has done such an excellent job modeling words of affirmation to his partner, are you ready to follow his example? Have you got any words of affirmation for Teresa?"
"What can I say? She's the bravest, most honorable person I know." Jane shook his head. "I wish you could see her in action. She works so hard to keep everyone safe. And nobody sees it, that that's what drives her – protecting people. Her team sees it, but all the people she helps, the other people she works with—how can they not see it? She doesn't get the recognition she deserves. No one thanks her and she doesn't think anything of it. She doesn't do it for thanks. She does it to keep bad guys off the streets so everyone else—all of you—will be safe. She thinks she can save everyone. Even the hopeless cases." He looked over at Lisbon, his expression startlingly similar to the one Isaac had worn a moment ago when looking at Shelly. "She's amazing."
Lisbon's breath caught in her throat. That look-
Andrea burst out, "God, Tony. Why can't you ever say something like that about me?"
Tony looked around, caught. "What? You're not a lawyer."
Andrea huffed and folded her arms across her chest. "That's what I'm talking about. You act like my career is just a hobby."
"What career?" Tony said, bewildered.
She glared at him. "Perhaps it's escaped your notice that I've been making and selling jewelry on Etsy for the past ten years."
"Jewelry? But that's just a h—" he stopped, caught.
"You don't see me," Andrea accused Tony. "Not like he sees her," she said, gesturing to Jane and Lisbon.
"Of course I see you," Tony said indignantly. "I see you every day."
Andrea made a frustrated noise.
Dr. Geissinger broke in. "I think what Andrea is saying is that she doesn't feel you recognize her worth outside of her role running the household."
"That's right," Andrea said. "He only cares if I can pick up the kids after school and get dinner on the table. I'm standing right in front of him, and I'm invisible. Slowly disappearing."
"Tony, I'd like to think about how the words you use when talking about Andrea can be used to affirm her as an individual rather than focusing solely on her roles as wife and mother," Dr. Geissinger said.
"Okay," Tony said, bemused.
"What kind of jewelry do you make?" Jane asked Andrea.
"Oh—mostly putting together vintage pieces to make something new," Andrea said, embarrassed. "I do a bit of metalsmithing."
"I'd love to see your work," Jane said. "Do you have any pictures?"
"I have some on my phone," Andrea said, drawing her shoulders a little straighter. She took out her phone, brought up some photos and handed the phone to Jane. "Here's my page. Mostly recent pieces, but if you scroll through, you can see more of the older stuff."
Jane scrolled through the pictures. "These are lovely pieces," he said. "You're very talented, Andrea." Lisbon leaned over and looked over his shoulder. He was right. The pieces were beautiful – she saw a lot of silver and gold filigree mixed with a variety of gems, painstakingly crafted in fine detail.
"Can I see?" Yvonne asked.
Jane handed her the phone and soon it was making the rounds around the entire circle. Everyone exclaimed over Andrea's work.
Michaela asked, "Do you have any pieces with you that you might be willing to sell?"
Andrea looked pleased. "I have a few pieces up in our room. I can show them to you later, if you like."
"That would be great." Michaela took Yvonne's hand. "I'm definitely in the market."
Tony stared, his jaw hanging.
"Tony, you need to take Andrea out," Jane advised him. "Give her a little excitement. Take her dancing. Remind her you treasure her as a woman, not just as the mother of your children."
Tony closed his hanging jaw. He cleared his throat. "Right. Will do."
Scott raised his hand. "What about me?" he asked Jane. "Got any tips for me?"
"Yes," Jane said. "Listen to your wife when she tells you what she needs."
Scott blinked. "I—of course I want to give her what she needs."
"Then listen. Ask her, and listen."
Scott hesitated, then turned to Lisa. "What do you need?"
"I need you to stop trying to make me feel better," Lisa said at once.
"Wha—what do you mean?" Scott said, frowning.
Lisa made a frustrated gesture. "You keep trying to jolly me along. Let's get out of the house, you say. Go to a ball game, go to dinner." She breathed out through her nose. "I don't want to go to a ball game or go to dinner with friends. Because then I have to pretend everything's fine, and everything isn't fine. Nothing is fine. We lost a child. How can you be thinking about ball games and trips to Mexico and new restaurants right now? Aren't you sad?"
A tremor passed over Scott's face. "Jesus fucking Christ. Am I sad? Of course I'm sad. We lost our little girl. If you think I don't think about her every day—" he broke off and passed a hand over his eyes. When he lowered his hand, his cheeks were wet with tears. He looked at Lisa, tears still shining in his eyes. "I just want to be strong for you," he said helplessly.
"I don't want you to be strong for me. I want you to be sad with me."
Scott's voice was thick and choked. "Okay." He sniffed. "Yeah. I can do that."
"Very good. You're off to a good start," Jane said encouragingly. He looked to Lisa. "Anything else we need to cover?"
Lisa shook her head. She reached out and slipped her hand into Scott's. "No. We're good."
Dr. Geissinger cleared her throat. "Well, shall we move on to an exercise on—"
"Not so fast," Jane said. "I'm not done yet."
"My apologies, Patrick, I spoke too hastily," Dr. Geissinger said, angling her shoulders towards him in a receptive posture. "Naturally, you'll want to spend some time talking about your relationship with Teresa next."
"I'm not talking about us," Jane said. "I'm talking about you."
Dr. Geissinger blinked. "About me?"
"Yes. Philip is in love with you." He gestured to her assistant, sitting silently beside her. "I think you should give him a shot."
Dr. Geissinger turned pink. "Patrick, that is entirely inappropriate—"
"That's his specialty," Lisbon muttered.
Jane ignored this. "What's inappropriate about it? So you're ten years older than him. He's thirty-five years old, not some underage kid who doesn't know his own mind."
"That's what I've been trying to tell her," Philip burst out.
"You work for me," Dr. Geissinger said, not quite looking at him. "It's an abuse of power."
"Oh, no it isn't," Jane said dismissively. "Philip, do you feel abused?"
"No," Philip said with certainty. "Elyse, listen to the man. I'm in love with you and have been for the past three years. Can't you forget the age difference and realize I'm crazy about you because you're smart and beautiful and kind and nothing else matters?"
Dr. Geissinger gaped at him. "I—"
"You need to kiss her," Jane advised Philip. "A physical demonstration of your devotion will go a long way to carrying your point."
Philip looked doubtful. "Really?"
"Really," Jane said firmly. "Go ahead. Lay one on her."
Dr. Geissinger went even pinker. "Patrick, really, this is highly—"
Philip scooted his chair over to hers with determination, seized her face in his hands, and kissed her. Dr. Geissinger made a muffled sort of squeaking sound, but Philip pressed closer and after a moment, she forgot to resist and melted into the kiss. She kissed Philip back, and then he made a muffled squeaking noise and pressed closer still.
When they broke apart, both flushed and disheveled, the entire group broke into applause and a few wolf whistles (Michaela and Tony being the primary culprits for the latter).
"Ah," Dr. Geissinger said, her face flushed. "Where were we?"
"You were agreeing to let Philip escort you to the gala tonight," Jane informed her with a grin.
"Yes, well, um, I suppose that can be arranged," Dr. Geissinger said, glancing at Philip and blushing even harder. She took a deep breath. "Okay, well, now, Patrick, you seem to have solved everyone else's problems. Perhaps now we'd better delve into your relationship with Teresa and see what we can do for you."
Jane's smile faded. He looked down. "I appreciate the thought, Doc, I really do. But I'm afraid there are some things you just can't fix."
To general astonishment, Isaac spoke up to contradict him. "I wouldn't be so sure about that, Patrick. You never know until you try."
"Any fool can see the two of you belong together," Shelly agreed. "Don't sell yourself short."
"Let's take this one piece at a time," Dr. Geissinger said kindly. "Patrick, you mentioned you feel like you're competing with Teresa's work. That you struggle with jealousy when it comes to sharing her attention. Do you want to expand on that?"
"That's not the main issue," Jane deflected.
"What is the main issue?"
A long pause. "I'm afraid of losing her," he said finally.
"That sounds like the same issue to me," Dr. Gessinger said, raising her eyebrows.
But it wasn't, Lisbon realized. Jane wasn't afraid of losing her to…to another man, or something. Or of coming second to her work. He was afraid of losing her to Red John. That any feelings he may or may not have for her would place her in the serial killer's sights. Lisbon reached out and took his hand in hers, suddenly feeling it very important that Jane know that she understood that.
Jane gripped her hand and turned his face towards her. "You understand?" he said, searching her face in sudden desperation. "You understand. Don't you?"
She nodded, her eyes sad. "I understand."
The rest of the group stared at them, uncomprehending. Lisbon ignored them. She kept her eyes on Jane and her hand in his.
"Teresa, why don't you give us your side of the story?" Dr. Geissinger suggested. "Tell us what you see as the primary obstacle in your relationship."
Lisbon hesitated, not wanting to voice among a group of strangers Jane's declaration that he planned to cut up a man in small pieces and watch him die slowly. She let Jane's hand go, her insides suddenly cold. "Patrick has a, uh, goal that I, uh—" oppose with every fiber of my being, she thought—"don't share," she finished.
"What goal is that?" Dr. Geissinger said encouragingly.
"Oh," Lisbon said, flustered. "Um. Patrick wants to… sail around the world. It's his life's ambition. But the thing is, I… I get seasick. I can't go with him. When we're here on land, everything's fine." She looked down at her hands. "But eventually, he's going to go out to sea, and I'm going to be left behind."
"Have you tried Dramamine?" Michaela suggested. "Yvonne gets sick on planes and it does wonders for her."
"I'm pretty sure her seasickness is incurable," Jane said miserably. "And I wouldn't ask that of her."
"Can't you just go on weekend trips?" Tony said, baffled. "Like, once a month or something?"
This struck Lisbon as absurdly funny. Weekend trips for revenge. She started to laugh. "Right. Patrick, why don't you just save your sailing for the weekends?"
Jane was silent. He wasn't laughing. He looked at his hands. "What if I…curtailed my trip? Didn't go for as long as I originally planned? And if…" He swallowed. "If I promised to come back to you, after?"
Lisbon's smile faded. The metaphor had palled. Curtailed his trip. Did that mean he wouldn't kill Red John? Or just that he would do his best to maneuver the pieces into place so he wouldn't be arrested for murder? "I think I'd like to see the navigation plan before you left," she said finally.
Yvonne looked back and forth between them. "Wow, you guys are really intense about sailing."
"Talk about first world problems," Tony muttered.
Dr. Geissinger flicked her eyes between Jane and Lisbon, her eyes narrowed. Something told Lisbon she'd caught on to the fact that they weren't really talking about sailing. "Well, Patrick, what do you say?" she said slowly. "Do you think you would be willing to let Teresa in on the navigation plan before you set sail?"
Jane's face was a mask. "I'll think about it," he said finally.
"Well," Dr. Geissinger said. "That's a start."