~~~The
Heart of the Matter~~~
Instantly Mac’s
demeanor changed. Her eyes darkened over
as the storm clouds rolled in. Sure, she
had just told Harm she’d grown from that experience, but that didn’t mean she
had gotten over it. She was still
profoundly affected by her childhood.
Over the years she had found a place where she could hide those horrible
memories and forget they existed. As far
as she was concerned, her life had begun the day she set foot in the
Marines. Now Maddie had found the key
that unlocked the door to the closet of her past and the contents of her life
came tumbling out.
She stiffened and
looked Maddie right in the eye, “What does my father have to do with THIS?” her
voice resonating off the walls.
Harm wanted to
reach over and take her hand to calm her down, but thought better of it. When she was angry, the claws came out. Frankly, he was afraid that any sudden
movement would result in bodily injury.
So he retreated, at least for the moment, comforting her in his heart.
“I think some of
the issues you have with your father parallel your relationships with the men
in your life,” Maddie said cautiously, now fully aware that this was more than
a sore subject with Mac. But she needed
to explore this avenue to find the deeper issues—issues that obviously have
driven her over the years.
Suddenly Mac stood
up from the space she shared on the sofa with Harm and began to pace the
room. She needed to put her energy into
something because her self control was going right out the window. As she paced, she absentmindedly played with
her hair— alternately pushing it behind her ears or running her fingers through
it.
“My father was a
drunk. He abused my mother and drove her
away. Is that what you want to know?”
she spat, furious that this was a discussion point.
“But what was your
relationship with him? Did he abuse you
too?”
Mac didn’t have to
give this question any thought, “If you call abandonment abuse, then yes.”
“I thought it was
your mother that left? Your father did
too?”
“My father
abandoned his family for the bottle. My mother left because she couldn’t handle
it anymore.” Mac briefly stopped pacing
and crossed her arms across her chest, staring Maddie down—practically daring
her to continue this conversation.
Maddie initially
was under the impression that she and her mother left. Now it was becoming clear to her that Mac’s
mother had left her behind. What kind of
mother does that to a child, she thought, trying to keep her own feelings
beneath the surface enough to be objective, yet still care.
“How did that make
you feel?” Maddie asked, her voice even and steady.
Mac snickered
sarcastically at the question. “How did
I feel? My mother took off—she abandoned
her only child with an abusive alcoholic.
How do you think it made me feel?” she
responded, anger tinting her words yet again as she returned to pacing the
room.
Harm’s heart was
breaking for her. After her father died,
Mac never spoke of him again, until today.
For as much as he understood Maddie’s motive, he also wished she would
just move on—for Mac’s sake. Watching
her, he could practically see her teenage years flashing through her mind like
the scenes from a horror movie.
Maddie likewise
watched Mac, continuing with her questions, yet careful how far she pushed
her. She didn’t want to submerge Mac so
deep in the past without getting to the point of how it was affecting her
relationships.
Continuing, Maddie
asked, “How old were you?”
“I was 15 years
old,” Mac answered coldly, now refusing to make eye contact with either one of
them, especially Harm. She knew her
reserve would collapse if she even glanced in his direction. And Maddie—right now she was angry with her
for broaching this subject.
No matter what
direction she moved, Harm’s eyes never left her. He was all too afraid that if he blinked,
she’d disappear into the black hole of her memories. So he kept his focus on his best friend,
ready to jump in if the need arose; however, he keenly listened to the dialogue
between the counselor and Mac—getting insight into what drove Mac, yet silently
praying that her inquiries wouldn’t backfire.
“What did you do
after she left?” Maddie asked, almost
afraid to know the answer.
“I did the only
thing I knew. I started drinking.”
Mac’s revelation
didn’t shock Maddie. In her practice she
had counseled the children of alcoholics who turned to the bottle as a means of
escape. It seems that this was exactly
the route Mac had taken in her life, although she had fared better than most.
“What happened
during those years?”
The concern in Maddie’s
voice helped Mac to relax a little. Her initial anger was starting to
dissolve. “Most of my days were spent
either drunk or hung-over. I left home
when I was 17—although I did manage to finish high school.”
“Did your father
ever physically hurt you?” Maddie asked, rephrasing
her earlier question, just to be sure there weren’t issues with physical abuse.
Shaking her head,
Mac said, “No. He was a miserable
drunk. He paid the bills and attempted
to give me a home in his own pathetic way.
But he still made my teenage years living hell.” She hesitated before continuing with a
sarcastic laugh, “Of course he never could remember my name. I was always his stupid, tramp daughter and
nothing more.”
After nearly
wearing a hole in the rug from her maneuvers, a physically and emotionally
depleted Mac went over to Maddie’s desk.
She sat down in the leather chair, resting her elbows on the desktop and
intertwining her fingers. She hadn’t
talked about this in years and it felt odd, almost surreal, to rehash it all
again. The last time she had discussed
this with anyone was when her father had died, and she and her mother had
talked—if that’s what you want to call what we did, she thought.
The pain of
remembering what happened after she left home gripped her. Running her hands through her hair yet again,
she recalled the rest hesitantly. “I got married to Chris Ragle when I was 18—I
actually don’t remember too much of it since I was drunk at the time.” Mac’s voice trailed off as she talked about
that time in her life. She buried her
face in her hands, trying to shut out all recollection of it. She refused to
let the threatening tears find their way to the surface.
Hearing about Mac’s
marriage, Maddie wondered if it had been a means of escape, just like turning
to the bottle was. She was a teenager
when her life had fallen apart. In order
to find some solid ground, Mac had clung to whatever she could to survive—the
bottle, Chris. Although the adult Mac
sat before her, Maddie saw the scared little girl overwhelmed by her life and
all alone, dwarfed by the huge desk.
Mac was in a
precarious state—teetering between the past and the present; anger and
agony. It was killing Harm to watch her
in such a state. He began to get up to
go to her, but Maddie motioned for him to sit.
He almost voiced his protest, but decided to trust that she was making
the right decision.
However, Zolly, who
had been fully awake since Mac’s initial outburst, found his way across the
room and leapt onto Maddie’s cherry desk. Almost as if he were sensing her distress, he
pushed his way between her arms, purring for attention and rubbing his head
against hers. Lifting her head from her
hands, Mac stroked his back and nestled her face against his, finding some
solace in the affection from the furry creature.
Deciding it was
time to pull Mac from the darkness that was her past, Maddie began to refocus
her questions on her recovery years.
“When did you get
help for your addiction?”
Mac continued to
stroke Zolly as she answered Maddie, “It was after the accident. My best friend Eddie died in a car
accident—the car I was riding in. We had
been drinking.” She stopped and took a
deep breath, “I was 19. Chris was
already doing
“Mac, I know this
has been hard for you to talk about,” Maddie said. “I’m sure it’s a part of your life you’d
rather forget. But, there’s just one
other question I have to ask.”
Moving her focus
from Zoloft, Mac looked at Harm for the first time since the whole discussion
about her father started. During the
entire time she rehashed her “formative” years, she had avoided looking in his
direction. Although he had kept silent,
she knew he cared about what she was going through—she could feel his
solicitude from across the room. But
now, for some unknown reason, she needed to know he was alright with Maddie’s
persistence.
Harm’s heart
skipped a beat as he locked eyes with Mac.
Her anguish-filled eyes tore at him.
But he knew that in order to make things right with each other, there
were issues they both needed to get past.
And how Mac’s father had affected her life was one of them. He nodded his head once in acknowledgment,
silently understanding what she had wanted from him as her best friend. Despite their differences and the multitude
of directions they were pulled in, it was the one thing that remained constant
in both their lives.
Mac then turned to
Maddie, acknowledging the impending question, “Go ahead—ask,” her voice almost
inaudible.
Putting her file
and pen on the floor, Maddie leaned forward in her seat and clasped her hands
together. She looked directly into Mac’s
eyes. “Are you still angry with your
father?”
Standing up from
the desk, Mac lifted Zolly into her arms, cuddling him. She strode across the room before setting him
down, watching as he wove himself through her legs, unwilling to leave her
side. She looked toward Maddie,
regarding her carefully before she gave her answer.
“I’m not angry at
him anymore. I got over the anger and
stopped making him part of my life.
Hurt, maybe, but I’m not angry anymore.
The anger died when he did three and a half years ago.”
Maddie
sympathetically replied, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Don’t be—I’m
not. It’s done and over with.” Mac
stated, trying to be matter of fact about it when her whole being was still in
turmoil. Sighing, she went back to her
place on the sofa with Harm, Zolly following her protectively. She hoped the journey into her past was
over. As she sat down, Harm gently
reached over and touched her arm, unsure if it was the right move or not. Mac patted his hand and smiled at him,
grateful for his presence. He exhaled a
sigh of relief, content that at the moment she wasn’t too scarred from the
discussion about her father.
Still feeling
drained, Mac wanted nothing more than to go home right now. Her internal clock told her that they had
exceeded the normal 45 minute session, yet again. But Maddie looked as though she wasn’t ready to
end this just yet. Reaching down, she
picked up Zoloft, who was still rubbing himself against her legs, and cuddled
him, for as long as he would allow her to.
She decided to make herself comfortable for whatever else Maddie had on
the agenda.
Since the
discussion had begun as a need to get insight into Mac’s relationships with
men, Maddie brought the focus back around to it.
“Having discussed
your father, I believe that the relationship you had with him has made you feel
unworthy of any man’s love or affection.”
Mac started to
protest mildly as Maddie, who wanted to make her point before giving her a
chance to refute the facts, continued.
“Your father never
gave you the emotional security that comes from unconditional love. I believe that you are afraid of finding that
unconditional love, so you settle for men you know you’ll never achieve that
with.”
A slight snicker
escaped from her lips, “So, it wasn’t the ‘abuse me’ sign I had around my neck
after all.”
Her attempt at
humor fell flat in the room; neither Harm nor Maddie saw any amusement in
it. Seeing that neither one of them was
laughing, let alone smiling, Mac pulled herself together. Guess that one will
get me another hour on the couch, she thought.
She was so tired now that she was getting giddy mentally. But she figured she better get a handle on
things quickly if she had any intention of getting home today.
For the first time
in what seemed like forever, Harm spoke to her, “Mac, if you want to stop for
today, just say the word,” the concern
evident in his voice.
“I’m fine. Really, I am,” Mac said, looking at him
briefly before turning her attention back to Maddie.
Watching how Harm
emotionally connected with Mac, it suddenly hit Maddie that he had been giving
her his unconditional love all along, unbeknownst to both of them. It wasn’t that she didn’t accept it or want
it. Mac just felt that she was unworthy
of it. And Harm never pushed her
otherwise.
Seeing how weary
and pale Mac looked, Maddie decided to call it quits for the day. Today’s session was enlightening for her, as
she had hoped it was for Mac and for Harm.
She also hoped that discussing her father would give Mac some closure on
her past, helping her move forward in her life.
“Considering the
time and the emotional nature of our discussion, I think we should continue
this on Friday. What do you think?”
Maddie asked, posing the question to Mac.
Mac was almost
relieved to hear that the session was over for today. But, she looked at Harm for his opinion,
unsure it was the right decision. He
nodded his head, agreeing that they had all had enough for today.
With a sigh of
relief, Mac said, “What time on Friday?”
“Let me check my
calendar,” Maddie said as she stiffly got up from her seat. Even though she’d shifted positions a few
times, she was still sore from sitting for such a long time. Frankly, she was exhausted too. This session had become more than she ever
anticipated and she felt that a nap right about now might be a good idea.
Pulling a
leather-bound book from her drawer, Maddie flipped through the pages until she
found the date she was looking for. “How
does
“Fine,” they both
said simultaneously. As Mac slipped her jacket on, Harm reached over to help
her, a warm smile passing between them as they prepared to leave.
“Great,” Maddie
said as she penciled them in for Friday, “Then I will see you both at
Mac shook her head
as Harm said, “None that I can think of right now.”
Maddie moved from
around the desk and met them in the middle of the room.
“Mac, I know today
was difficult for you. You’re probably feeling emotionally exhausted or even
drained right now—that’s only natural—we’ve covered a lot today. But I believe we’ve made some progress. Please, keep that in mind as you go home,
okay?” she said sincerely.
“Thanks, Maddie,”
Harm said, extending his hand to her.
Mac whispered a thank you as well.
They both headed through the door into the outer room and then into the
hall, as Maddie watched them leave. She
knew she was doing the right thing, bringing the session to an end. Resurrecting the past, for as healing as it
was, could also open up new wounds. This
session had been particularly painful for Mac today and it so easily could have
spelled disaster. But, having witnessed
the silent accord between Harm and Mac, Maddie knew there wasn’t anything to
worry about. They would be there for one
another and they would get through this—together.
After her clients
exited the office, Maddie went back into her office to retrieve their file from
the floor where she had left it, only to find that Zolly had made himself comfortable on it.
“Comfy, Zolly?” she said, with her hands on her hips, trying very hard
to sound authoritative.
“You’ve taken quite
a liking to Mac, haven’t you?” she said, bending down to pick up the immovable
feline from his spot, as well as the file.
He meowed loudly in protest of being disturbed, but gave into Maddie’s
affections nonetheless.
“I’m not going to
have to check her bag before she leaves next time, am I?” she asked him as they
moved to the couch, where she could finally relax and review the notes from
today’s session. Zolly immediately made himself comfortable in what was usually Mac’s spot on the
sofa. Likewise getting comfortable,
Maddie removed her shoes and sat at the other end, tucking her legs underneath
her; the pages from Harm and Mac’s file spread out before her. Well, another session chock full of
surprises, she thought. Maybe I’ll need the
couch too by the time they’re done—and a vacation!
****
Not wanting Mac to
leave alone, Harm followed her closely as they entered the hallway. He could see that her fortitude was beginning
to waver ever so slightly. She was a
step or two in front of him, eager to leave, yet not running from the
building.
Mac wanted to hastily
retreat from the building and head home to the solitude of her apartment, but
her body wouldn’t let her. She felt like her feet were full of lead and her
heart was about to break. Images of her
past were dancing in her head making her dizzy and nauseated.
Concerned, Harm
gently grasped her arm saying, “Mac, are you alright?” stopping her and turning
her around to face him. As she did, he
could see her eyes brimmed with tears as whatever resolve she had left crumbled
into a million pieces. Doing the only
thing he instinctively knew, he pulled her into his arms as she surrendered
herself to the tears consuming her; her body threatening to collapse onto the
floor. Every ounce of energy she had was
now completely and utterly gone.
Keeping her from falling,
he cradled her in his arms, silently allowing her emotional release from the
afternoon’s events. He fought back his
own tears, wondering if it weren’t for his own stubbornness over the years,
would she even have been in this emotional mess right now. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her,
and right now he felt that he unknowingly did just that by dragging her down
with him. Reliving her past was the last
thing he ever wanted her to do. Rather
than opening his mouth and saying something he would eventually come to regret,
he decided he would just hold her—for as long as she needed.
****
They stood there
for what seemed like an eternity. Harm
had his back against the wall for support while Mac was enveloped in his arms,
her face buried in his sweater, his chin resting on her head. He was afraid to move or to speak. Not that he was afraid of ruining the moment,
but he wanted to give Mac the silence to collect her thoughts and regain her
composure. Knowing her all these years,
she wasn’t the type who easily fell apart emotionally. The only recent incident he could recall,
other than the day Bud was injured, was when he went down in the
Mac’s sobs were
finally giving way to easy breathing. She gently extracted herself from Harm’s
embrace, wiping her face with her hands.
Harm was a little reluctant to let her go, but he didn’t want to smother
her either. As she pulled away from him,
she looked up into his face, and silently wondered what she must look
like. He gently smiled at her, reaching
up and wiping a stray tear from her cheek.
“You alright?” he
softly asked.
Nodding her head,
she said “yes” and then “thank you”.
Pulling her
composure together, Mac quietly added, “It’s getting late. I should be going.”
She adjusted her jacket and slowly started to leave.
Harm wasn’t
comfortable with the idea of Mac driving home alone. But he didn’t know how to address it without
sounding too overprotective, or like some man out to take advantage of an
emotional woman—which was the farthest thing from his mind.
“Mac, are you sure
you’re OK to drive?” he asked cautiously, hoping he was saying the right thing.
She stopped,
regarding the question carefully as she glanced in his direction, “I think I’ll
be alright, Harm.” Mac paused, wanting
to say something else, but she hadn’t yet convinced herself it was the right
idea. Deciding to say it anyway, she
added, “If it would make you feel better to follow me home, you can.”
Harm smiled,
saying, “It would make me feel better, thanks.”
He bent down and
picked up her purse from the place it had landed on the floor earlier. As he handed it to her,
their fingers brushed—eerily reminiscent of a similar moment from their past. Choosing to let the moment be what it was,
they walked in silence down the steps to the cobblestone street below.