Chapter 3
"You're up early today." Weiss says between bites of peanut butter toast.
"I get up the same time as you every day." Blake says as she strolls by, more pep in her step than usual for this time of day. Weiss slaps at her hand as she steals the second piece of toast off Weiss' plate.
"Make your own toast!"
"Yours tastes better." She sticks her tongue out at Weiss before chomping down on the bread.
"We both know that's a damn lie. Look at your face."
"It's just slightly crispier than I anticipated is all."
"I burnt it, that's why."
"Explains the peanut butter."
"Sure does. Now explain yourself."
"I have an editors meeting today, so I have to be at the office in an hour."
Made sense, she guessed.
"Will you be home for lunch or no?"
"I hope so." Blake grabs the three pieces of toast that just popped up from the toaster, perfectly brown and puts peanut butter on them, putting one down to replace the stolen one from Weiss' plate. "My meeting should hopefully only be about two hours. If it goes longer than that, I'll probably resort to some criminal activity to escape."
"Sounds thrilling."
"I'm sure it will be."
"I'll be home for lunch and then I'm taking the rest of the afternoon off because I have my last therapist consultation this afternoon."
This is enough to gather every ounce of Blake's attention.
"Oh yeah? How do you feel?"
"You sound just like one of them." Weiss rolls her eyes and gathers her work bag and keys and prepares to leave.
"If there is anything you need from me on the matter, I will be home."
"Hm. I will let you know."
"Sounds dandy. Have a great day, dear!" Blake yells after Weiss, hearing her groan at Blake's sarcasm, which just makes Blake laugh to herself.
—
"Belladonna, how many manuscripts have been reviewed to proceed with publishing this quarter?"
"Last count for the department was seventeen, on a goal of twenty. Should be easily attainable within the timeframe."
"Excellent news." Her boss carries on his ramblings and Blake quickly begins to zone out. Knowing her assistant is taking notes religiously, so there's really no need for her to pay attention anyways.
These meetings were always a formality. A reason to get a remote team to sit around a conference room table and stare at each other once a month so that their boss could make sure that they all still actually existed.
A little over two hours later, Blake is at her desk, swiftly packing her bag so that she can head back to the comforts of her home office. Mentally, she's coming back from Neverland, which is where her thoughts had drifted during that meeting. She had gone through meal prep for the next week, scheduled out her manuscript edits for the next two weeks, created a grocery list that she had already shared with Weiss, and set a reminder to make sure she doesn't forget to have the oil changed on her car.
"See you later, Blake. I'll send a copy of the meeting notes over to you once I'm home. Tell Weiss I say hello." She nods in acknowledgement to her assistant, Velvet, who was even quicker than her at trying to escape the office.
Their mutual levels of introversion allowed them to work well together. Corresponding via text or email primarily still allowed them to get all of their work done. It also allowed Velvet the time to work on her photography as well, which was something she was passionate about. Blake learned that during the company Christmas party a few years ago. After Velvet had half a bottle of wine.
But she was a good assistant. Always kept Blake on time for all her deadlines and prepped her with information when necessary. It worked.
The drive home was uneventful. When the garage door opens she finds Weiss' car already in its usual spot on the left side. Weiss always preferred the left side of everything. Blake assumed it was due to her handedness and usually just took the opposite space from whatever Weiss chose. Since she didn't really care either way, and Weiss was always more particular.
It was unexpected that Weiss was already home, so Blake stepped carefully into the house, almost bracing for whatever unknown Weiss situation was happening.
"I made you a tuna sandwich."
Blake carefully observes the situation as she puts her work bag down and takes off her jacket near the door.
"Thank you." Weiss is seated at the table, laser focused on something she is looking at on her phone. "Everything okay?"
"No. But that is to be expected."
"What's going on?" Her brows furrow slightly as Weiss flippantly slides her phone across the table towards Blake, who picks it up and takes a look at the article Weiss was reading. 'Schnee Company in shambles as bitter divorce hearings proceed.' "I thought you weren't going to get involved in this?"
"I'm not. But that hasn't stopped the calls and e-mails from reporters looking for a breaking story from one of the Schnee children." The sigh that leaves her is heavy enough for Blake to worry more than normal.
"I know this has all been stressful for you. And I'm sorry you have to deal with your parents' issues like this."
"There was a reason I left home and never went back. I didn't want anything to do with it then, and I certainly don't now."
"I don't blame you." Blake never knew what to say. She felt out of place, like her caring wasn't genuine, because she truly couldn't know what it was like to go through what Weiss was going through.
Their upbringings had been nearly opposite. Any time Blake had been in the same vicinity as Weiss' parents, it was like you could feel the ice in the air. And it made her own parents feel like sunshine in comparison.
The only time it had ever strained was when Blake made the awful decision to date Adam. Admittedly the worst eleven months of her life. But her parents continued to love her and support her through those times. She didn't know if the same would've been said if Weiss had been in the same situation.
"Yang and Ruby are throwing a barbecue at Yang's house this weekend. They want us to come." The sudden change in conversation prompts Blake to hand the phone back to Weiss. Their eyes meet for a split second and it felt like Blake spun in them for much longer than that. "Do you want to go?"
"Huh?"
"To see Yang and Ruby this weekend."
"I mean, it's up to you, I don't have any other plans. I'm sure your sister is going to be there, since you know.. her and Yang are.. you know."
"I have no issue seeing Winter. We can go then. I will RSVP for us."
"Do we need to bring anything?"
"I'm not sure but I'll ask Ruby and add it to the grocery list you shared and grab it on my way home from work tomorrow."
"Okay." It felt like they were dancing around something. But Blake wasn't sure what that something was.
"Well my consultation is in an hour so I think I should get going. Don't want to be late."
"How do you feel about it? Nervous?"
"A little anxious, to be honest. But I'm not sure if that is because of other things or not."
"Makes sense. I'm sure this is going to be the one. I can feel it."
"Maybe you should just go for me, then." Weiss jokes, making Blake roll her eyes.
"Not in a million years."
—
The office looked dilapidated and worn on the outside, when Weiss had arrived. Which did nothing but increase her hesitancy.
But Blake's voice in the back of her head pushed her forward through the doors and into the reception area.
Luckily, it was much more updated and well decorated inside than out.
Weiss appreciated the mixture of cool tones in the decor that provoked a calmness in the space. Wise choices.
She signs in with the receptionist and fills out some paperwork regarding her visit and waits for her turn to be called.
After about ten minutes or so, a woman with glasses and blonde hair opens a door on the side of the room and surveys the room until she lands on Weiss.
"Miss Schnee? Lets go ahead and come this way, please."
Once Weiss reaches the doorway, the woman extends her hand, which Weiss readily accepts and shakes.
"I'm Dr. Goodwitch, pleasure to meet you."
"Same to you as well."
They take a few steps down the hallway until they reach an office door and the doctor gestures for Weiss to take the lead and walk into the space first.
Goodwitch's office is decorated similarly to the reception area. Which made sense since the practice bore her name. The art was minimalist, not distracting. All the surfaces looked free of any dust.
"I apologize for the wait. I was taking a few moments to review the information you shared on your paperwork. Just so I could be a little more prepared for you."
"Not a problem." Weiss takes a seat on the couch, across from where Dr. Goodwitch is seated in her chair. "I was admiring the decorative profile of the office. Your interior designer is brilliant."
"Yes. It was a referral from a friend, I am pleased with the results." She clears her throat. "Now, I do have some questions for you."
"Alright." Weiss shifts nervously in her seat.
"I know you are seeking some healthy methods for coping with the stress brought on by your parents' rather public divorce."
"Yes."
"That answers what brings you here, but what are you looking for that will, for lack of better phrasing, get you out of here in the end?"
Weiss hadn't thought about much past the immediate concerns. She just wanted to know how long it would take to get rid of the unavoidable burden that was looming over her on a daily basis.
"What am I looking to get out of this experience?"
"Precisely. How do you expect you want to view yourself and your relationships with others at the end of our journey here?"
"I'm not sure I've thought that far ahead, honestly. When I've thought ahead into the future it mostly centers around my work and being professionally successful."
"Not a problem. I receive answers similar to yours more often than you would think." The acknowledgement of Weiss' immediate internalized concern oddly puts her at ease.
"I mean, I do have personal relationships. And I'm sure they've unfortunately suffered due to my intense focus on my work, and how that may have come across as disinterest or something of that nature."
"Is that something you would wish to change? Or do you feel satisfied with the current terms of those relationships?"
"I know there certain ones that I would consider more personal than others. And I would like to be more present and a more active participant than I am currently."
"Okay. Good. We have places to go. I know this one may seem rather personal, but do you struggle with intimacy issues at all? Or are they of concern to you? I noticed that you left that section of the form empty."
"I'm not sure, honestly. I didn't know exactly how to answer so I figured it was best to leave it blank."
"Again, not a problem. We are here to work through things, right? All in good time."
When Weiss releases a heavy sigh, Goodwitch looks up over the rim of her glasses.
"Sorry, I'm more relieved than anything. I expected this to be something different."
"I'm hoping for the better?"
"Most definitely."
"I think we've done enough work for the day. And I do always like to end the first session with a disclaimer that this will only work if you are committed to the results. With therapy, you get out what you put in."
"That is a mentality that I can agree with."
"Glad to hear. It won't happen overnight. And sometimes it will feel like exhausting and hard work. But I'm confident we can get you to where you want to be."
"Sounds a lot better than I expected."
"Last thing before you go, is your homework." Dr. Goodwitch stands up, so Weiss does the same, and they start to make their way back to the door.
"Homework?"
"Yes, the work you do here only works if you use it out there."
"Okay."
"By the time you come back for your next session, I want you to be able to tell me what the most important thing is to you. And that can be anything, from a thing, a place, person, a belief. Whatever it may be. I want you to be able to tell me what it is, and what makes it so."
"Got it."
"I will see you next week, the receptionist can get you all scheduled. Enjoy the rest of your day."
"You as well, thank you."
Much to her surprise, she schedules a second appointment and wanders back out to her car.
That went much better than the other two appointments. Maybe Blake was right. Maybe this could work.