By the time Eric got back from the coffee shop, it was about time for his session with Dr. Andrews. When he arrived at the office, Carla, the doctor's assistant and secretary said, "Go right in, Eric. Dr. Andrews is expecting you any moment now.
Eric walked in slowly. Even after bi-weekly sessions over the last three months, he was still leery of talking to the shrink. He'd never been one to air his problems to people with whom were not his friends and/or family. Regardless of the fact Doc was bound by confidentiality laws to protect his information and the secrets and thoughts he revealed in these sessions, he still felt a bit of wariness before going in. However, his reticence was always allayed within a few minutes once he began talking. Dr. Andrews was good at his job, at getting to the root of the problem and coaxing his patients to open up.
"Good afternoon, Eric. How are you today?" Dr. Andrews began, motioning for Eric to take his normal seat in the oversized lounge chair. He'd always made an effort for his patients to be comfortable in their surroundings, despite the department's lack of funding in the psychology department and it was evidenced by the serene prints of famous artists such as Dali, Van Gogh, and Matisse. The oversized chairs helped his clients settle in, feel a bit at home, and gain a sense of trust even before they started sessions.
Eric took his seat. "Doing fine…Kind of," he started.
Dr. Andrews sat down in his customary chair across from Eric and the coffee table. "What is bothering you? This is the first time you've ever called to initiate a session."
He knew he could be blunt with Eric. At first, he'd had to coax him, but over the last three months, he was able to get his client open up to him and it was significantly easier to converse with Eric. Furthermore, he appreciated getting to the point. Dr. Andrews had learned quickly Eric did not like to play games, at least, not since the shooting.
"I didn't tell you about this before, but I'm going to now. I need some help figuring this out. I've been having these dreams over the last month. Four in one month, at least, those I remember I've had," he said, fidgeting slightly.
"Are these dreams disturbing to you?" he asked, making a notation on his pad.
Eric shook his head and a blush flushed his cheeks. Something he wasn't prone to doing. There wasn't much that could make him blush, but discussing his sexual dreams with another person not his current girlfriend was one of them. "Not exactly….Actually, they're…very sexual in nature. I'm…making love to someone, a woman, but I can't see her face. I can't see who she is and it's frustrating, to say the least," he said, trying to push it all out before he lost his nerve.
Dr. Andrews asked, "Does she seem familiar to you? Maybe someone you've been involved with in the past?"
Eric shook his head. "No, not at all. I mean, she is familiar, she feels familiar, if that makes sense, but no one that I've been involved with in the past. These dreams, they're not just sexual. I get a sense of love, warmth, home. Being home is the biggest feeling. And I've never felt that way about any girl I've ever been involved with or hooked up with."
Dr. Andrews noted Eric's language in describing the dreams and there were two main themes he wanted to analyze further. "To start with, you just stated you've never felt that way about any woman you've 'been involved with or hooked up with.' What does that mean?"
Eric sighed. They'd never discussed his sexual history before and with good reason. Before the shooting, he'd been quite the hound dog, with the exception of the six months before. He hadn't dated or hooked up with anyone at that time. After the shooting, he looked back on that period in his life and was ashamed. Women weren't meant to be used and discarded like razor blades. "Before the shooting, I took advantage of my looks at every chance I got. Sometimes I dated. Some of them I cared for deeply, but never really loved them. Othertimes I went to clubs looking for no-strings-attached sex. Frequently. There was one girl I was seeing a couple of years ago, she died in a fire and I didn't even know her name. Not until she was identified after."
"And now?"
"Life's too short. Learned that lesson the hard way. I've been thinking about settling down. Not sure if now's the right time. If I really want to or if it's this event that's pushed me into something I'm not ready for."
"And in these dreams, you said, being with this mystery woman, it felt like 'being home.' That she seems familiar. If it's not anyone you've dated or had sexual relations with in the past, could it be someone you currently know? Is there anyone you relate to now?"
And now we get to the root, Eric thought sardonically. "There's this woman…Everything I say here is confidential, right? I mean, you can't go tell Horatio or IAB?"
Dr. Andrews was taken aback, but recovered quickly and reassured Eric. "Of course not. The only way confidentiality can be breached is if the client is in imminent danger of harming himself or someone else."
Eric took a deep breath and looked at Dr. Andrews one more time before stating quietly, "There's this woman in the department, Calleigh Duquesne. She's Horatio's second and a co-worker. She's superior to me and she's got several years seniority. She's been incredible since the shooting. She stayed with me in the hospital and when I got out, she helped me get settled back in my condo. At work, she's helped me get through some pretty though situations. I mixed up a couple of bottles of solution up, a rookie mistake, and Calleigh scraped me out of that. Then there've been the little things. The encouraging smiles, little winks. Even before the shooting we were friends, close. I'd call her my best friend."
"Is flirting a common practice between you?" Dr. Andrews noted on the pad Eric and Calleigh were very close friends. Lines blurred?
Eric sat up straighter. "We're best friends. I've always had a crush on her, even in the beginning, but it's never gone anywhere. She's one for keeping the office and home life separate. Never the twixt shall meet and all that."
Dr. Andrews picked up on the subtext and what Eric wasn't telling him. He also noted the nervous way Eric had begun to run his thumb back and forth across the arm of the sofa. "Sounds to me like there's more than infatuation on your part." He waited patiently. Sometimes, it was better for his clients to not only understand what they couldn't voice, but to acknowledge something they'd never even put words to.
Eric's heart started to beat quicker and his breath grew short. The walls started to feel like they were closing in on him. Suddenly, Eric got up out of his seat and tried to appear cool and collected as he walked around the spacious office, but to Dr. Andrews' eyes, he was neither cool nor collected. Instead, his movements appeared jerky and his body language tense. That hit a nerve.
Was he right? Was Dr. Andrews correct in his comment? Was Eric more than infatuated with his co-worker? Granted, Calleigh was beautiful, gorgeous with that sunny blonde hair and emerald green eyes—Emerald green eyes. He'd dreamed of emerald green eyes. She was the woman in his dreams. But why now? Why not before? That thought brought Eric's mind back to Dr. Andrews' comment. Sounds to me like there's more than infatuation on your part. If Dr. Andrews' was right—and Eric wasn't thinking he was (yet)—then he cared for someone who was taken. Calleigh was involved with Jake. And they were happy. He'd seen the evidence of that happiness every day in the office when he'd walked in on her several times over the last few weeks. The girlish giggles. The light and happy laughs. The way she always seemed to be smiling.
"Maybe….I don't know for sure," Eric waffled. "This has just come out of the blue. I didn't feel like this before. She's a friend, my best friend. That's all. We've never gone down that road before together. At one point early on, I thought maybe, eventually, something could happen, but then we got closer and it became apparent she wasn't one for mixing business and pleasure. That couldn't be more apparent than now."
"How so?"
"About a month or so after I got out and was back on the job, there was a case and Jake, Calleigh's boyfriend, got hurt. I made a comment about her visiting him in the hospital. She went on the defensive and reminded me that she'd visited me in the hospital and I said that was different. I tested the waters a bit and expressed an interest in her and Calleigh put me down pretty quick, saying that we worked together in the lab day in and day out and working with Jake wasn't the same. She told me she trusted me, but that she needed to find out how she felt about Jake. She made her choice." Eric wasn't happy about it, but there wasn't anything he could do, no matter how much he wished otherwise.
"And how does that make you feel?" Dr. Andrews bit his tongue and cursed mentally. He couldn't have picked a worse question to ask. All clients hated the proverbial question and usually didn't respond, but he was in luck.
After a look at the doc, Eric responded truthfully. "Lonely. Empty. Like something's missing from my life. That's another feeling I get from the dreams. As out of place as that sounds. I guess it makes sense. I want the one person I can't have," he said quietly, looking out the window, not really seeing the Miami skyline, but looking inside himself.
Dr. Andrews closed his portfolio with the pad inside. Today's session was over. What more was there to say to a person who had just realized such a gut-wrenching fact.