A/N: Have to say thanks to my lovey Suaru_chan for playing "doctor" in this chapter. And a special thanks to peppermintyrose. We had a short discussion about this Sookie and her problems which I put to good use. Enjoy! xoxo
Walking into the red brick office building, I get a chill. I hate doctors. I locate the floor for Crane Counseling and catch the elevator just as it reenters the lobby. Riding up the four floors, I suck in a deep breath as I think about what I'm going to say. I don't know this person, I probably won't get along with them, I really don't feel like I should be here. And I'm not crazy. So why am I doing this again?
Oh, right. Amelia!
Eric wanted to accompany me for moral support, but I figured if he couldn't come into the session with me, there'd be no point in him being here. I'll be more than happy to see him once I make it back home anyway. With a cheery "bing!" the elevator opens onto the fifth floor and I prepare to face my doom. Yup, that's how I'm looking at this experience.
There's no one else waiting so I take a seat after telling the receptionist my name. She picks up her phone to let the doctor know I'm here and smiles as she informs me that I will be seen in a minute. I fidget a bit, not knowing what to expect. I glance around the office, finding that it looks normal. There's a small coffee table lined with self-help magazines, the walls are all paneled in wood and the furniture is typical of what you'd find in a doctor's office. I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe flowery posters with "You're normal!" on them or something. I'm in over my head.
Once the door labeled "In Session" opens, I'm gob smacked. The person on the other side of the door is not at all what I would envision a shrink to look like (I had a mature, mom of three, with glasses in mind—sue me). This woman is extremely tall (without heels), has long curly brown hair, the figure of a supermodel and the most striking almond shaped brown eyes. They have flecks of gold in them that seem to dance when the light hits them. But that's just not possible. Maybe I do need to be here. I laugh to myself and glance up to see the receptionist smiling over at me. Weird.
The striking beauty walks her previous patient out to the elevator and they utter a few words to one another before she walks back into the waiting room.
She turns to me. "Ms. Stackhouse?"
"Yes," I mutter, standing to my feet.
"It's nice to meet you. I'm Claudine Crane," she says while ushering me into her office. "You can call me Dr. Crane or Claudine. Whichever you feel more comfortable with." She points to the couch across from a wingback chair—which she must sit in—and I take a seat as she closes the door behind us.
"Thanks. Okay. So, how do we go about this?"
She settles into her chair before responding in a voice laced with mirth, "Well, I'll need a little background info on you so we'll start there. Unless of course you just want to tell me why you're here?"
"I don't really know why I'm here, honestly. My friend—"
"Amelia Broadway?"
"Right. She suggested I come talk to you."
She picks up a notepad and pencil and jots something down. "We'll get into that later, then. How old are you?"
"Twenty-seven. What does that have to do with anything?" She scribbles on her notepad.
"Just part of the process. Any siblings?"
"Um, a brother, Jason."
"Mmmhmm... Is he older or younger?"
"Older by a few years."
"You close? Any issues with him being older?"
"He and I aren't really close now because he lives in Baton Rouge, but our age difference never was an issue. I like having an older brother. Did you want to know his hobbies too?"
She cuts a look at me before returning to her notepad. "What about your parents?"
"They're in New York. They don't really venture down this way often."
"How long have they lived there?"
"Wow, um over fifteen years I guess. I stopped counting."
"Any reason?"
"Any reason for what?"
"For why you stopped counting how long your parents have lived in another state. Are you not close with your parents, too or…?"
"No. I just have more than enough to keep up with than how many years my parents have been living in another state."
"Ah ha..."
The woman (bitch) was really starting to get to me. I shift in my seat as she eyes me, waiting for her next question.
"I'm sorry, I just don't get why you need to know this. I thought I was here for you to help me work through my problems."
"First, I need the background information because your answers help me decipher where the root of your problems stems from. Second, I'm a doctor. I know what I'm doing. And third, I thought you didn't know why you were here?" she ask with a cocked brow.
Well, shit. She got me there.
"Now, if we can continue..."
I nod my assent.
"Thank you. Since your parents live in New York—and I'm assuming they moved there—where did you grow up?"
"Um, here in Bon Temps. I've lived here all of my life aside from the four years I spent in college."
"Where'd you go to college?"
"LSU Shreveport."
"Did you miss anyone from home while you were gone? Is there anyone else in your family that you're close to, another relative or family friend perhaps?"
"Just my Gran, uh my grandmother. She's actually who Jason and I lived with once my parents moved away. She didn't mind us staying with her since we practically lived at her house anyway. Um, and I'm close to Lafayette. He's like another member of the family. There are a few other family members but not that I associate with. The distance," I say with a nod, hoping that explains it all.
"Hmm... so you distance yourself from them?"
"No. I didn't say that. Are you gonna start twisting my words now?"
"No, that isn't my intention at all. I simply ask because sometimes we say one thing but mean another. I'm only seeking clarification." She taps her pen against her notepad—twice —before looking up at me. "Are you currently in a romantic relationship?"
Boy, she sure does go from one end of the spectrum to another.
"I am, but I'm sure you already knew that. Amelia can't keep much to herself." I laugh, nervously. She doesn't even smirk. "Yes, I'm currently dating my deceased husband's cousin," I mumble.
"Whoa! Hang on. Stop the presses. What's this now? You were married? And now you're dating your husband's cousin?"
I narrow my eyes at her. "Yes. My husband died about a month or so ago. Plane crash."
She mumbles something which sounds like, "better than a soap opera," before looking up from her notepad again.
"How did that make you feel? When he died?"
I sigh. "Relieved. Is that a bad thing?"
Her pencil starts flying again. "It's how you feel. It's not a good or bad thing. But why were you relieved?"
"We didn't have the best relationship. It was... unhealthy." That's an understatement.
"I guess that's part of what we'll be getting into later then?"
"Um, yeah. Probably," I laugh again. I'm nervous.
"So that would be a pretty big development during the last six months. Anything else major going on now? We'll get back to the relationship stuff because that's important. Especially since you've got the dead husband, new guy…" Her chipper attitude seemed to come out of nowhere.
I debate saying anything for a minute, but it'll be pretty obvious if I continue making regular appointments. Which I seriously doubt right now.
"I'm pregnant."
"I'd say that's a pretty big development. Congratulations!"
"Thank you."
"I'm just gonna guess it's not your deceased husband's baby," she says not looking up from her notepad.
"No. It isn't." I turn my face away, feeling my cheeks warm at my confession.
"Okay. Um, why don't you tell me more about your boyfriend?" She says the word like a question, as if unsure of it.
"What do you want to know? He's everything Bill wasn't."
"Can I stop you for a minute? You realize you just said Bill. That's your deceased husband, right? Is there a reason you didn't mention his name before? I'm just curious."
"Um, not really. I try not to think about him if I can. He made my life a living hell so... yeah; I'd rather not talk about him."
"But, I think you need to for just that reason. If you keep those thoughts and feelings bottled up inside, they'll eat away at you and you'll never find peace. You do want peace, don't you Ms. Stackhouse?"
"Of course I do. Who doesn't? I just don't know how I'll ever get it. Bill's dead which solves so many of my problems—"
"What problems? You haven't mentioned one yet."
I raise a brow in her direction really not understanding her attitude. "Look, if you're going to keep cutting me off, I won't be able to get to my problems."
She just looks at me for a long moment, and then starts scribbling on that damn notepad again. For a brief second, I want to snatch it from her hand and smack her with it. But I'm a lady. And Gran will undoubtedly ask me about the session and I'd rather not have to admit I beat up my therapist during my first visit.
I laugh to myself. "Have you noticed when you break down therapist into two words it becomes the rapist? Is that because you feel like you've been emotionally violated after they're through with you? 'Cause if that's what I have to look forward to, then I don't want to do this. I'd rather take a hot poker to the eye or something more gruesome. I've dealt with enough over the past few months and I can't deal with anymore stress right now."
"I know." The look on her face makes me even more uncomfortable. I really don't like her.
"You know?"
"I do and I totally understand, Sookie. So how about we get started?"
Now I'm Sookie? Just who does this Dr. Crane think she is? Have we not already started? Am I just dealing out answers that mean shit or is she not paying attention?
"Didn't we already start?"
"Not really. We're getting into why you're here now. You know, you're many problems." She raises a brow and makes a face as if she knows something I don't. "I'm listening, Sookie. Even when you think I'm not. Trust me."
"I'm not sure what Amelia told you but I can assure you—"
"She told me you have a tendency to run from your problems or should I say relationships."
Bitch.
"No. She's only saying that because of my high school dating record. I didn't have much luck with guys. I dated a bit but they were never, I don't know... I would break up with them when I thought I could do better."
"Interesting."
"What's so interesting about that?"
"That you used to break up with guys you dated when you thought you could do better. Did you not think you could do better than Bill? Is that why you stayed with him though you were unhappy?"
"No, I didn't… I don't know."
"Was his death the reason you finally got out of the relationship?"
"What? No! I made the decision to leave him awhile ago. He died after."
"And do you blame yourself for that?"
"Okay, I don't know what you're insinuating here but I don't like it. I don't think I had anything to do with his death. Who have you been talking to about me?"
"Why? Has someone said that to you? Do you feel guilty?"
"I don't feel guilty. My boyfriend, Eric; his mother said it was my fault Bill died. I didn't believe her then, and I don't know why she said it. It kind of stung and I really feel she believes it was my fault because he was coming after me when his plane crashed. But I had to leave him. If I hadn't... I just had to leave. Is that running away, too?"
"You did it for your sanity, not because of some pet peeve. Right?" I nod. "You shouldn't stay in an unhealthy relationship. In a word it's stupid, but I understand each situation is different. Tell me what the issues were with these other guys you dated. Were they not cute enough, funny enough… what?"
I have to laugh. Does she think I'm some kind of shallow flake? I get that I said I thought I could do better, but it had nothing to do with looks.
I sigh before answering. "Well, I dated this guy Alcide—he's my brother's best friend—my senior year of high school. Everything about him was great except he was still in love with his ex at the time. He promised he wasn't and that it wasn't a big deal. I stuck it out with him for awhile because I believed him. It wasn't until his "ex" came after me with a crowbar that I decided he wasn't worth it. I ran away from his ass with no problem but I put that bitch ex of his in jail first. I bet Amelia didn't tell you that."
She scribbles in the stupid notepad—yet again.
"No, she didn't. Keep going."
"Um, okay. Then there was Quinn. I lived with him my sophomore year of college for a while. Such a momma's boy, oh my gosh. His problem: he had to do whatever his mom asked as soon as she asked. She said jump, he said how high. I don't think she liked me much anyway and then his sister ran away from home which caused more problems. Eventually, he had to go home to be with his mom because she couldn't handle being alone and trying to find his sister. That's probably the one case where someone left me, so it wasn't like I ran from him. But that doesn't replace the fact that we had a lot of problems and never talked about them. I guess I could have pushed him away too but that's not really what you're looking for is it?"
She waves her hand in a gesture for me to keep going.
"Okay, um… Victor was great in the beginning. He was handsome, funny, treated me good. But he became really possessive. I couldn't handle it and we weren't married, so him, I did run away from. Just picked up and moved to a new apartment with Amelia. Victor and I didn't live together but I figured he knew where I lived and I didn't want him just dropping by, or stalking me. Also, I didn't want to have to break up with him because I couldn't face seeing him again. And, I didn't think he'd let me go."
"Was he abusive?"
I shake my head. Two can play that game.
"You know, Sookie, anything you tell me stays here and doesn't leave this room. I don't and won't tell Amelia—or anyone else for that matter—what we talk about here. Consider this our circle of trust. I trust you to be honest with me; you trust me to keep your confidence. I'm willing, if you are."
I don't know why, but her saying that gives me the reassurance I need to truly lay it all out with her. Even though I don't like her, she seems to have a calming way about her. I find it refreshing to talk to her—when she's not interjecting—and I know she's listening.
"I don't have a problem with running away. It's sticking around too long. I think my friends have it wrong. Part of that is my fault because they only know what they see and some of what I've told them. I never really shared much about my relationships with anyone. I just didn't. Then I met Bill and he wouldn't have liked for me to tell anyone about any of our issues. He dealt with that in his previous marriage and I was trying to be respectful of his wishes, you know. I guess I fell into a groove where I didn't talk to anyone about anything. I kept it all bottled inside."
"You realize that's unhealthy. You need to talk. You need to express your feelings no matter how inept you think they are."
"I don't like to burden people with my problems. Everyone I know has a life and it's not my job to bore them with my crap. I'd feel bad about calling my Gran to complain to her when I know she isn't doing the best herself. She's got more problems than I could shake a stick at. I don't want to be like this. I don't want to have to depend on anyone then I feel like a wretch if I do. I've kept so much inside that I know I need to get out but I just… who do I do that with? Who do I cry my eyes out to?"
"Me. That's why I'm here. That's why you are coming to see me. If you don't want to talk to your friends or your boyfriend, or even your grandmother, you talk to me. I'm looking at things from a different perspective. I don't know you personally so I can't say what you typically would do in a situation. You tell me whatever you need to and I'll listen. Let it all out here. I want you to trust me, Sookie. I want you to know that you have someone who will listen and not judge. Now, I will offer up advice. You should know that too, but I won't tell you what to do. More like suggest the best course of action. How does that sound?"
"Okay. I think I'd be willing to give it a try. I… you know that I don't want to burden anyone with my problems. But you're right. I'm paying you to listen and give me advice so I should be able to talk to you."
"Great. Now let's get you scheduled for twice a week."