Keith (Hathaway House #11) - Dale Mayer Page 0,43

hopped to her feet. “Looks like I’ve got to go.” And, like that, she was gone.

And he had to wonder. Was she just a workaholic? Maybe this was also her way of getting away from having an intimate or personal conversation. He had no way to know exactly what they were to each other at this point. It was funny, but they were bouncing off it, coming together and bouncing off, almost like the beginning stages of a real relationship. It was real in every other way, except that he couldn’t exactly take her on a date. They couldn’t go see a game or take a walk in the park together. But then he hadn’t been all that successful in his other relationships, going to a game, taking a walk, having dates. And this had started here with even less. But, then again, without all the usual societal details of typical dating, they were focused on something more important.

They were each getting to know the other, the real person on the inside. All the rest of it was just window dressing. He laughed at that because it was one thing to feel that way when you had a healthy, strong, or physically fit body. But it was another thing entirely when every muscle and bone had been damaged. He knew that any storm that came now would make his bones ache something fierce. But she would understand that as well.

He knew that things between them had gone deeper and faster than in most cases or in a normal relationship because, when you dated, you kept things on a superficial level. You went dancing. You went to the movies and did various things like that. He just wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. After you got through that first flush, it was easy to see that there were issues still. No matter where they lived, there would have to be some meeting of the minds over various issues. And that would be true no matter what relationship he had.

Somebody would have to get used to his physical issues, just the same as he would have to get used to somebody else’s issues. For instance, in her case, her workaholic tendencies. And that was fine. Life was all about making adjustments. But it still felt odd, like he wasn’t quite home and wasn’t quite ready to go in that direction. He didn’t know what was holding him back because he’d made such progress in so many different ways. But he had to admit a little bit of fear resided in the back of his mind. He decided that, when he went for his next shrink appointment, he’d just bring it up.

And when he did, the doctor looked at him and asked, “What is it you think is holding you back?”

“I don’t know,” he said, “it just seems—I don’t know.” And he couldn’t fill it in with words. He had gotten a whole lot more comfortable talking with her. As shrinks went, she was okay. She never pressed or pushed, but she had a gently insistent way of asking questions over and over again.

“That you’re not quite whole, maybe?”

“Maybe,” he said, “but it feels like it’s something else.”

“How about trust?”

He looked at her and winced. “In what way?”

“What way is there?” she asked slowly.

“I don’t know,” he said in frustration. “That’s why I brought it up.”

“And I like that,” she said. “I really like that. It makes a huge difference if you’re willing to look into your own treatment and truly participate.”

“Maybe,” he said, “but it still feels like something else is there.”

“Do you think it goes back to your father?”

Something inside him stilled. “I hope not,” he said harshly. “I really don’t want to open that door.”

“And yet,” she said slowly, her gaze direct, “have you ever been in love? Have you ever been married? Have you ever had a relationship where you wanted it to be the one?”

“I’ve been in love,” he said, “but I’ve never been married.”

“Why not?” she asked.

He took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “My girlfriend said that I was afraid of committing.”

“Interesting,” the doctor said. “And that would fit.”

“Fit in what way?” he asked, bewildered. “How would anybody even know that?”

“Think about your father, the person who, besides your mother, was supposed to be there for you. To care for and to nurture children abandoned by their mother.”

“Stop,” he said. “I wasn’t abandoned. She died.”

“That’s true, but, despite the circumstances, many