"Natalie, I know you don't want to go, but you have to," Dan said for the final time. "Now get ready- we're leaving."
"Henry and I were going to a movie tonight," she sulked, glaring at her father.
"Well, he can survive one day without seeing you," he said, rolling his eyes. Natalie scowled. "Though I'm not exactly sure- are you two attached at the hip?"
She didn't answer, just stomped upstairs and gathered her cell phone and iPod. Grabbing her coat, she followed her father out the door.
"I've never met this guy," she said nervously. "So why do I have to do this again?"
"Dr. Madden said it would be a good idea for you to come in and talk about your side of the story with him. I've been talking with him lately, and he suggested this. I think it sounded like a marvelous idea."
"You know why he wants to talk with me, right?" she asked bitterly.
"Why?"
"Because he gets paid for another hour."
"Natalie..." Dan said, shaking his head. "Please just go in there with an open mind."
"Whatever."
They reached the building they were headed for, and parked. Together, they went up through the elevator and ended up on a boring landing with beige carpeting and matching sand colored walls.
"Lovely," Natalie said, eyeing the polyester furniture.
"Natalie," he warned.
She went up to the front desk and got the forms she had to fill out. She circled all the appropriate yes's and no's before handing the form for her dad to sign. She rolled her eyes when she saw him 'discreetly' scan his vision over the question asking whether or not she was sexually active, and then watched him scan over the question about whether she did drugs or alcohol. She'd circled 'no' on both- she was not currently doing any drugs, and was glad. On paper, it made her look good, and it made things easier with her dad.
"So I'll see you in an hour," she said, standing up when they called her name.
"Ok. I'll be here," her dad said, opening a magazine.
Bitterly, she followed the woman at the desk into the back of the office, and then ended up in front of a door. 'Dr. Madden,' read the plaque that hung on it.
"You can go right in," the woman said brightly. Natalie smiled sarcastically, and opened the door.
A young, dark-haired man looked up from his desk, putting down his pen.
"Ms. Goodman," he said, extending his hand. "Take a seat."
She did as she was told. "Hey."
He smiled. "Hey. It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you," he said with a knowing smile. She grimaced- how much did he hear? He looked through her papers calmly.
"You do know that everything you say here is confidential?"
"I do," she said. She wasn't an idiot.
"I just want to ask you, Natalie- have you been entirely truthful on these forms? I know your father had to sign them- did you possibly fudge the answers?"
She prickled instantly. Why did he instantly assume she was lying? He smiled at her again.
"Natalie. Tell me whatever you like. But I can't help until you let me," he said. "So just relax, and we'll chat."
He sat back in his chair as though demonstrating how to relax.
"I didn't lie," she said. "I don't know what my dad said I might be doing, but I'm not doing drugs or anything."
"Good," Dr. Madden said simply. His passiveness irked her. He just looked at her for a very long time.
"Ok, I'm not doing them anymore." She added.
"Even better."
"Much."
"Ah, I see," he finished, raising his eyebrows. "You do know that those kinds of.... remedies won't help anything?"
She looked away. "Yeah. I know. That's why I'm trying to stop."
"And your boyfriend... " he said, looking through the papers.
"Henry," she finished for him.
"Yes. Henry. Tell me about him," he said, looking very open to whatever she had to say.
She didn't know whether to trust him or not, so she decided to tell him simple things. "He likes piano."
"I understand you're musical?" Dr. Madden asked.
"Was," she finished.
"Oh?"
"I was musical. Until... Well...."
"Natalie, you can say anything in here. It's a safe place."
"See, it's kind of your fault, a little," she said, her eyes piercing. "I had this big recital. It was my audition for Yale, so I could get away and graduate early. And my mom swore she'd be there. So did my dad. But when it was starting, she wasn't there. She was here," Natalie said, pointing at the floor of the office. "And the only person who was there was Henry... he's the only one who's ever there. And... and... I couldn't help it. I fucked up."
"How did you... 'fuck up'?" he asked.
"I just couldn't get the sonata out right. My fingers didn't go where they were supposed to. All I could think about was how my mother never did anything she promised, and how I was always going along, doing what I was supposed to do. That's all I've ever done, you know? Get good grades, be the best piano player, the best kid I could be. I tried to be perfect, and I obeyed all the rules. And she did whatever she wanted, and never kept any promises to me."
"That must be difficult," he said.
"No shit!" she said, laughing bitterly. "So, like, I just snapped, you know? And I started screaming, and then I just started... improvising. It was so embarassing. And then I just started hyperventalating, and I got really dizzy, and then Henry came onstage and took my home. And I haven't played since."
"When was this?" he asked, concerned.
She shrugged, thinking back. "Like two and a half months ago, maybe?"
"And you used to play every day?" he said.
She nodded. "It's funny- I don't miss it. Yet. I have a feeling I might, though," she said. Just as she said it, she got a farmiliar feeling- the feeling that she wanted to play. Maybe she did miss it.
"Natalie. Tell me about how you're coping with your mother's absence."
"I'm fine," she said defensively. "It's not like she was there too much in the first place."
"Maybe not, but you can still miss her."
She shrugged. "I don't know. It's actually kind of nice. I mean, my dad was always more attentive, and now he's got even more left over attention for me. Plus I get to spend time with him now, because he's not using all his energy to take care of my mom, and that's sort of a relief, for him, too. Even though he misses her, I can tell that it's good for him to only have to care about himself now."
"So your relationship has improved?"
She thought of her snippiness from before, and felt bad. Her dad was only trying to help, and he wanted her to get better. "I'd say so," she remarked. "But it's not, like, great."
"How are your grades, Natalie?" Dr. Madden asked.
She looked away. "They're fine, now. They were bad for a couple weeks, but they're getting better again. Not as good as before, though. I used to be a straight-A student. Now, not so much," she said, ashamed.
"That's ok," he said. "You don't need to be perfect, Natalie."
She laughed bitterly. "You sound like Henry."
He raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"
"Yeah! Like, he's worse than my dad. Seriously, all he ever used to say is that I don't need to be perfect, and that I should make mistakes. It was like he wanted me to mess up or something. And then, after I snapped, it was like he wanted me to be perfect again."
"What d oyou mean, you 'snapped'?" Dr. Madden asked.
"Well..." she said. "So I'm not doing drugs anymore, right? I sort of was... for awhile."
"What kind of drugs?"
She shrugged dismissively. "Nothing too scary."
Ok, that was a lie.
"Well... maybe that's not true. I kind of stole my moms stuff. And I would go to parties and stuff. But I'm ok now," she said defensively. "That's like, so over."
"And Henry didn't push you into this?" Dr. Madden asked.
"Oh, my God. No. I mean, he smokes pot and stuff, so I thought like 'I'll do that, too.' And then it just spun out of control... But it wasn't his fault. It was annoying at the time, but he really wanted me to stop the whole time."
"You shouldn't ever do something because your boyfriend is doing it," he said.
"Duh. Doesn't mean it's not difficult to ignore, though. So today, I'm supposed to be out with him, and my dad dragged me here to talk about this stuff. But you know what I just realized?"
"What, Natalie?"
"I shouldn't here. Because, no offense- you seem like a really cool guy and all- but you're not really helping. And that's not your fault. I'm sure you're a great therapist. But I think I need to talk to my mom about this whole thing, you know? Talk it out with her? Because just telling you how I feel... It's not like you were the one who set the house on fire when I was twelve, or had the habit of coming into school in your pajamas."
"No, I can't say I did that," he said. "But sometimes I third party's opinion helps."
"Sometimes," Natalie said, reaching for her coat. She extended her hand. "It's nice meeting you, Dr. Madden. I hope I don't see you in the future."
"You still have twenty minutes-"
"That's ok," she said. "This was a good talk," she finished, nodding her head.
"It was. It was interesting to hear your prospective on things-"
Natalie smiled. "Glad to help. If you ever want to hear any of the wacky stories about her, just call. I'd be glad to share. Until then, well- see you around. Or not."
She nodded, and then left the office, walking out into the waiting room. She cringed, remembering her dad was still there.
"Hey," she said, and he looked up, surprised.
"I thought you weren't done until-"
"I'm not," she said. "But I think I figured out what I want to do."
"Natalie, you should listen to what he has to say-"
"Dad? Can you take me to see mom? I just want to talk to her. And I think I have to do it now, before I lose my nerve."
They drove over to her grandparent's house, Natalie constantly thinking of things to say to her mother. She alternated between feeling extremely angry about all that had happened, to sadness, to confusion. When she got out of the car, she had no idea what to feel.
She rang the doorbell, and held her breath when the door opened. She found herself face-to-face with the woman she'd spent sixteen years trying to impress.
"Hey, mom," she said weakly.