A/N: This was not one of my favorite chapters but I thought it was necessary for explaining Bridget's recovery
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Chapter Eight
"This is it!" Bridget announced walking into Dr. Land's office and sitting down heavily. She had been to the office many times but for the first time she seemed to really take everything in. The old, half-dead plant on the windowsill, the pictures of kids and adults at various stages of their lives, even the hundreds of birds and flora on the wallpaper. Bridget immediately pulled her legs up to her chest, hugging them to her as if she were trying to condense herself into the tiniest box possible. At close to thirty Bridget still carried the awkwardness of a child. On her first visit Dr. Land had remarked how it could be a psychological need for affection pressing to the surface. Bridget had looked at the doctor suspiciously, trying to determine whether it would be worse to face the doctor for the entire session or face her friends the entire drive home. In the end she had chosen the latter to be worse and had forced herself to sit in the creaky leather chair and stare at the puke-green carpet. For a full hour Bridget had listened to Dr. Land talk about all sorts of things from hay rides to Tupperware. None of it was remotely interesting and Bridget had nearly been bored to tears. In retrospect Bridget was amazed that she had returned since that first session had been so disastrous. Now though, almost a full year after that fateful day, Bridget had returned with one thing in mind; saying good bye.
"Dr. Land!" Bridget yelled to the empty room. She was confused by the doctor's absence and for some reason felt a little uneasy. Dr. Alex Land had always been sitting behind her desk at the beginning of each session. Even though at one in the afternoon, Bridget's usual appointment time, Dr. Land had already had four other patients, she always looked refreshed and new, as if each person was a clean slate, a new beginning. For the first three sessions Bridget had been perfectly silent, responding with head nods and the occasional grunt. Dr. Land had been relentless though. When Bridget refused to speak, she had spoken for her. She talked about everything from her work to her schooling to her children. Finally, after the third telling of Alex's climb from public school to private school and upper class society Bridget had been moved to speak herself. At first it had only been to berate Alex and her lack of interesting conversation. Then it was other things. Bridget had begun to tell Alex everything from her mother's death to how Julie's crying tore Bridget apart. She had spilled everything, nothing was safe. Her sisters were exposed for everything they had ever done, Eric's every move was dissected; even Perry and Bridget's father had been placed under examination. In the end it had come to Marly. It had always gone back to Marly, Bridget thought to herself, recalling how she hadn't even been surprised at the things she had started to say about her mother after only a little coaxing. Bridget was terrified of Marly. Or, more specifically, she was terrified of becoming Marly. But as classic twists go, her fear of becoming her mother had in fact turned her into the same person. Bridget had only been mildly surprised at Dr. Land's observation. It had been what came next that shocked Bridget.
"Bridget, I think you're suffering from postpartum depression," Dr. Land had announced one day. Bridget could remember it like it was yesterday. It had been rainy, a perfect visual of Bridget's mood. She hadn't wanted to come to therapy but Eric had pushed her so much that she had gone simply to avoid his nagging. Bridget had laughed when Alex declared her diagnosis and had stopped tracing her name in the perspiration from the window.
"That's absolutely ridiculous," Bridget had said, shrugging it off but even then she was beginning to wonder. She had heard of postpartum depression before, through Carmen who had read about it in one of Win's books. The symptoms fit. Moodiness, tiredness, exhaustion, bad thoughts. Bridget felt like a little kid, running through the symptoms and applying them all to herself. I couldn't be suffering from postpartum depression, Bridget assured herself but even then she could see Carmen's mouth forming the word, denial. The symptoms did sound an awful lot like her. Tibby's sarcastic voice rang in her head, hey, if the shoe fits….It had taken a few more sessions before Bridget agreed with the diagnosis and even more before she had agreed to take medicine to treat it. Marly had taken medicine too, Bridget remembered and all of a sudden she had spiraled back down to obsessing over turning into her mother.
All of that had been dealt with—and cured, Bridget reminded herself, helping herself to some of the jolly ranchers on Dr. Land's desk. A year after she had met Dr. Land she was ending it. Alex had told her that she was ready, although she assured her that she was only a phone call away. Bridget had taken the number but knew that she would never use it. She had her sisters, she had Eric, even her father and brother would be there. I'm a big girl, Bridget had told Alex, I should start acting like one, right? Alex had, of course, agreed.
"Dr. Land! I have a surprise for you!" Bridget yelled out to the empty office once more, trying to lure the psychologist out of her hiding spot. As if on cue a door to the left opened—a door that until now Bridget had never realized existed. Alex stepped out, her dark hair pinned back in its regulatory bun on top of her head.
"Bridget!" The tiny woman said brightly. "I thought I heard you screaming out here!" Bridget laughed and moved to hug the woman who had become her lifeline, her confidant—her friend.
"Alex, I am proud to say that this is the last time that I have to write an absurdly large check addressed to you," Bridget laughed, holding the paper out to her. Alex accepted it with a smile, discreetly slipping the paper into her desk.
"And I am proud to say that I am sending a perfectly normal young woman back into the world." She laughed, reaching out to hug Bridget warmly. Despite their rocky beginning Alex had grown rather fond of the spunky blond. Bridget laughed along with her.
"As opposed to—the mess I was when I came in?" Bridget asked, daring Alex to challenge her. Alex shrugged, mutely accepting Bridget's own classification of herself.
"I have something for you," Alex admitted, reaching back and pulling a cupcake from out of the mini-fridge she kept under her desk. The frosting was green and had a little plastic soccer ball on it. "It was from my son's birthday party. When he found out that his old camp coach was one of my patients he insisted I bring you one," Alex explained as Bridget graciously accepted the treat. Alex had mentioned her son's name once or twice in the past year and apparently Bridget had been his coach the year after she had graduated college. Bridget didn't remember him but she had apparently left a lasting impression on him. Bridget ate the treat slowly, laughing with Alex over a few of their best moments. When she was done Bridget stood to leave, quite possibly for the last time. It was only then that she remembered one of the main reasons she had come to Alex's office. A secretive smile slipped over Bridget's face as she turned to face her friend. Her hand instinctively graced her stomach as the slightest crimson coloring rose to her cheeks.
"Before I go, I have one last surprise for you…"