Shameless (The Therapist #2) Page 6

  “Ugh. I’m not good at that kind of stuff, Missy.”

  “Oh my god, just fucking do it, Tessa. Just be yourself and you can’t go wrong,” Missy fires back, just before lifting herself out of her chair and walking away. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

  “Oh, I hate you,” I say as she strides away with her nose high in the air, ignoring me. “Hate! I hate you!” I say again, accidentally grabbing some attention from the closest table, which I ignore.

  Admittedly, I’ve been hit on plenty in my life. Even when I was with Brandon, guys would always try to come talk to me, and Brandon would get all insecure and we’d end up fighting about it as if it was somehow my fault.

  I don’t hit on guys, though. So, this thing Missy wants me to do is new to me, and even though the guy next to me is extremely attractive, I struggle to find the words. I have to think about it, and decide to take Missy’s advice and be myself.

  I clear my throat. “Well, I can't let you buy me a drink without at least learning your name.”

  Oh god. Was that stupid? Did that sound stupid? Shit, do I have something in my teeth? I know I haven’t eaten anything from the menu, but maybe something got in there anyway. Cranberries? Are there any cranberry chunks at the bottom of my glass that could get stuck in my teeth? Shit.

  “Liam,” the man says, cutting off my thoughts, which I should thank him for. “Liam Gardner. And you are?”

  “Tessa Milton,” I answer, and the two of us shake hands. His is twice the size of mine and wraps around my dainty little hand like a warm blanket.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Tessa,” Liam says with a megawatt smile. “You here blowing off steam, too?”

  “Yeah, I most definitely am,” I tell him with a half-hearted smile of my own.

  “Yeah, me too. You know, when you’re born, they should print out a memo that tells you how annoying your parents will be when you get older so you can be prepared.”

  I giggle. “Right? Yeah, that would be helpful. I wish someone would’ve told me how crazy my mother would be. Probably could’ve saved me years of therapy.”

  “I hear you. Cheers to that,” Liam says, raising his glass and tilting it towards me for a toast. I have to react fast and raise my glass to meet his. “My father is a lawyer, and I’m a paralegal. I’m sure you can imagine how disappointed he is.”

  “Ah, I see. Dad wants you to take the bar and be like him,” I state.

  “Exactly, and no matter how good I am at my job, it’s never good enough for him. Even if he wins case after case because of my legal work, it means nothing. I’ll never be good enough until I’m doing what he’s doing. To him, I’m nothing if I don't take the bar exam. He’s getting ready to retire and wants me to take over his firm. Maybe I’d want to do it if he wasn’t so pushy about it, you know? But if I chose to do it, I’d want it to be on my terms. I’m done doing shit because he wants me to. At some point, parents have to realize that their kids have lives of their own, and at some point, kids have to say, ‘Fuck what my parents think.’ You know?”

  As surprised as I am about how Liam, a complete stranger, just opened up to me about his personal business, I can’t help but relate. If only I’d been given a manual on how to deal with my mother and her expectations, maybe I wouldn’t feel like such a disappointment to her all the time. If only life was that easy.

  “Unfortunately, I know exactly what you mean,” I say to Liam as I finish off my first drink and slide the one he bought in front of me. “I’m having to deal with my mother in the same way right now, that’s what I’m drinking to. I guess I never got to the point in my life where I could tell my parents, ‘Fuck you.’ I think, maybe, I’m finally getting there.”

  “Better late than never,” Liam says. “The hardest part of it for me is accepting that making my own decisions and living my life the way I want is something I have to do for me. I also have to learn to be okay with pissing my father off. As kids, we never want to disappoint our parents, but when you're an adult and miserable because you’re still trying not to disappoint them, that’s when you know it’s time for a change. It’s hard, but we have to accept that they don’t have to like what we do, they just have to respect us, and if they can't respect us for making our own decisions, it’s okay to love them from a distance. In my case, loving him from a distance just might be my only option.”

  Liam knocks back the rest of his drink and places the glass back on the soaked napkin with a thud. I can tell that whatever he has been through has him emotional, and he just wanted to blunt the pain with a quick drink. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have a Missy to clear his cloudy skies.

  “Well, I’ve rambled to a stranger enough for one night,” Liam says as he stands up and drops a few dollars on the counter to tip the bartender. “It was nice talking to you, Tessa Milton. Thanks for letting me vent.”

  “It was nice talking to you as well,” I reply, doing my best to smile through the emotion our conversation conjured up. “I hope everything works out for you.”

  “Thanks. I think it will,” Liam states. He stands up straight and smiles. “I don’t know the ins and outs of your situation with your mother, but it sounds sort of similar to mine. Don’t forget that it’s your life. She doesn’t have to like what you do, but she should still respect you. If she can't, you’ll know what you have to do. Your happiness is always the most important thing. Have a good night, Tessa. Hopefully, I’ll see you here again some time.”

  “I hope so. That’d be nice,” I reply, just before Liam turns on his heel and walks out of the restaurant.

  Once Liam is gone, my mind starts to run wild with thoughts. Between my therapy session with Dr. Colson, and now my conversations with Missy and Liam, I feel more motivated than ever. Maybe Brandon dumping me wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Maybe it’s the start of an important part of my life. The way I’m feeling right now, the next steps in my life might not be anything my mother can appreciate. But, maybe that’s okay. My happiness is the most important thing.

  “So, how’d it go?” Missy asks from behind me as she reaches her seat and sits back down. “I may have watched you two from across the room. So, did you get his number? You guys having sex later on tonight?”

  “Geez, Missy. You’re wild tonight,” I say behind a giggle and another swig of my drink from Liam.

  “Well, you're single now, and I’m trying to live vicariously through you. So, spill the beans before I have to go home to my husband.”

  “Well, don’t judge me, but I didn’t get his number.” Missy lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Leave me alone. He just got up and left, there was nothing I could do. He just said he hoped he’d see me here again sometime, and that’s fine because I don’t think I’d want this number right now anyway.”

  “What? What’s wrong with you? Why not, Tessa?”

  “Because I think I need to just take some time to myself,” I reply, sipping my drink again. “I think I want to take some time to enjoy being single. Maybe I’ll give you a reason to live vicariously through me.”

  “I’m confused.”

  “That guy is the type you settle down with. He’s the guy you commit to, and I have no intention of settling down or committing to anyone right now.”

  Missy bulges her eyes at me before releasing an ear-to-ear smile.

  “Oh okay! I see you, Tessa. I’ll drink to that. Your mom is going to be salty, though.”

  Now it’s me who smiles from ear to ear. “Yeah. I know.”

  Check Engine Light

  Chapter Thirteen

  ~ Malcolm ~

  “Wow, there's a lot of people here.”

  “Yeah, too many,” I reply, just as my shoulder is bumped by a teenager holding hands with a girl who looks entirely too young to be allowed in the mall without her parents, let alone walking hand in hand with another kid too young to be alone.

  “Aww, it’s okay,” Ava coos, as if consoling a baby. She reaches up and grabs a hold of my face, squeezing my cheeks as
she wiggles my face side to side. “Poor baby. Don’t worry. We’ll be seated in the theater before you know it.”

  I smile and nod along, but on the inside, I’m fuming. Growing up in my parents’ house wasn't some horrible ordeal that ruined my entire childhood, but it did have its issues. One of those issues was how violent my mother could become at a moment’s notice. She could go from loving to choking you in zero seconds flat. She always felt she had to overdo things because I was a growing boy, and the bigger I became, the more she felt she needed to keep me in check by upping the violence. To her, my size and the fact that I’m a man was enough of a threat to her to make her lash out and overcompensate for our size difference. She was a short woman, the moment she started having to look up at me, she changed.

  I loved my mother, but my face is off limits because of her. Being punched in the face while wearing braces can leave a permanent scar on the inside of you. My mother died two years ago, but the damage she caused will never be laid to rest. When Ava touches my face, it literally rubs me the wrong way, and I pull away.

  “Oh, come on, grumpy pants. Let’s go.” Ava ignores my obvious annoyance, and begins walking towards the movie theater.

  In Dover, there is only one movie theater, and it’s inside the mall. I really hate it, but I love going to the movies, so I’m stuck between a rock and a bunch of annoying teenagers. After crossing the food court and pushing through the fog of intermixed smells of different foods, we finally make it to the theater. There’s a line outside the ticket booth, and the two of us find our way to the back of it.

  “Stupid lines,” Ava says with a shrug. “I’m glad we came early enough. I can’t wait to see this. How about you?”

  Ava turns to me and wraps her arms around my waist. It's a show of affection that’s aberrant, because we don't usually do things like that. We’re dating, officially, but our relationship isn't one of public displays of affection. We don't do a lot of kissing or hand holding because it’s just not our thing. We fuck. That's what I’m used to. Kisses and warm embraces aren't usually part of the equation.

  I’m fine with us withholding the PDA. With Ava, I don't feel an urge to be overly affectionate. I know what we do, I remember how we met, and I know both of us well enough to know we’re not in love. Ava and I are far from a rom-com, so when she wraps her arms around my waist, it’s the second time I’ve felt uncomfortable since we walked into the mall.

  “Umm, yeah,” I mutter. “It’s gonna be a good one.”

  “What’s the matter with you today? You seem stressed. Work getting to you? You could always quit, you know? You don't have to spend all your time talking to women about their relationships.”

  “What?” I frown, because this isn't the first time Ava has mentioned my job as if she has a problem with it.

  I know what it’s about. I met her in my office, and the two of us ended up where we are now, so Ava thinks if it happened for her, it could happen for someone else. She’s paranoid, and the thought of it stays in her mind so much, she can't help but keep mentioning my job.

  “I mean, I know you love your job,” Ava says. I can see the wheels turning in her head, trying to find a way to explain her comment. “I’m just saying, maybe it’s stressing you out. It’s a lot to have to deal with so many women’s problems.”

  “Why do you keep saying women?” I snip, trying not to talk too loudly. “I’m a relationship therapist, Ava. I get just as many men in my office as I do women.”

  “Oh, yeah I know,” Ava tries to backtrack, just as the line moves up. “Oh, look we’re next.”

  Ava and I approach the counter and order our tickets, although I’m feeling surprisingly annoyed by how this evening has started. I nod to the woman who hands the tickets to me after I pay, and she smiles harmlessly as we walk away.

  Once we’re out of earshot of the booth, Ava turns around and glares at the woman. I notice her walking forward but looking backwards, so I turn around to find the woman staring at Ava with a bewildered look on her face. The two of them seem to be having a staring contest, but I’m guessing only one of them knows why.

  “What’s up? You good?” I ask, and before Ava answers, she takes my hand in hers and pulls me closer to her, while still staring at the woman in the booth.

  “I’m fine,” Ava replies, as she finally turns around with a boastful look on her face. “Let’s get some popcorn.”

  “Umm, cool.”

  The two of us walk to the concession stand, where we have to wait in another line. While we wait, Ava still has ahold of my hand. I catch her stealing glances back at the ticket booth, but the woman inside is busy with other customers. Ava doesn't seem to care, and stares daggers at the booth even when the woman isn't looking. After a few customers order candy and sodas, it’s our turn to step up.

  The woman behind the counter is more teenager than woman. She looks like she's probably seventeen, maybe eighteen at best. Definitely a teenager, and definitely not a threat. However, it doesn't matter to Ava.

  The moment we step up to the counter, Ava looks tense. Her face is tight, and she is now directing the glare she was giving to the ticket booth at the young blonde in front of us.

  “Hi. What can I get for you?” the worker says, her blue eyes peering up at me.

  “Hi, let me get a large popcorn with extra butter,” I tell her. I choose to ignore the way Ava is gawking at the kid. “Let me get some Twizzlers, too. Ava, do you want something to drink?”

  My eyes turn to Ava, who is still staring at the concession worker. The blonde notices, and now stares at Ava with a frustrated look on her face. It doesn't matter if you even know why it’s happening—no one likes to be stared at, so I’m not surprised when the teenager behind the counter shows some attitude.

  “Ava,” I say again, but it’s too late to stop whatever has started.

  “Uhh, yeah, I know exactly what I want,” Ava finally says, but from the tone and volume of her voice, I know what she wants has nothing to do with movie theater snacks. “What I want, is for this fucking cunt to stop staring at my man like she's ready to drop down and suck some dick right here at the concession stand. That’s what I fucking want, bitch!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  ~ Malcolm ~

  “What the fuck?” the blonde teenager replies, her face twisting into a shocked scowl of surprise and fury.

  “Don't play dumb, bitch. I see you,” Ava barks, drawing the attention of every single person in the room now. All eyes are on us. “I’m standing right here in front of you, and you're going to stare at my man like I don't even exist. I will fucking beat the shit out of you right here in front of everybody.”

  “What are you talking about?” the concession worker shouts. I can tell she doesn't want the drama, but when someone brings it to you with such aggression and volume, it’s hard to stay composed.

  “I saw you, you dumb bitch,” Ava shouts again. Ava’s skin is turning red as she literally heats up like a bomb exploding in slow motion.

  “You didn't see me do anything, you psycho,” the worker responds, just as the manager on shift comes out of the back with her hands up, wondering what the hell is going on.

  “Umm, what's the problem?” the young black woman says. By now, the entire room is wondering the same thing, including me.

  “Oh, you wanna get involved in this?” Ava bellows, pointing at the manager. “This dumb bitch is hitting on my man, and if you're about to come out here and defend her, then me and you will have a problem, too.”

  “Ava, what the fuck are you doing?” I ask, but when I see Ava’s face, I can tell she’s seeing red. She has a scowl I’ve never seen on her before. I barely even recognize her.

  “Miss, if you could just calm down, and maybe not make a scene,” the manager pleads in a peaceful tone. “It seems to be just a misunderstanding. I’ll even comp you your popcorn for free. Let’s just not escalate things unnecessarily, please.”

  “Don't tell me to calm down!” Ava scream
s, slamming her fist on the counter. “I don't want your fucking popcorn. I want this bitch to be more respectful, because I swear to God, I will burn this whole building to the ground over my man. You hear me, you whore? I wouldn't care if I had to burn it down with both of us still inside so he could get away from you, I’d do it. I'd kill us both before I let you have him.”

  Everybody within earshot lets out an audible gasp, and I’m suddenly reminded of some of the things I learned about Ava when she was my patient. I remember the shock I felt when she told me her ex-boyfriend’s porch had been set on fire. She claimed she didn't do it, but it was obvious to me that she had. Her ex ended up moving away because of how intense Ava’s fixation on him had become.

  “Ava, what the fuck?” I growl, razors in each word. “You can't say shit like that.”

  “Miss, I’m afraid I’m going to have to call the police,” the manager says, just as she places a hand on the shoulder of the blonde concession worker, pulling her away from the counter like a protective mother. “This is getting out of hand, and you've made a direct threat against the building. I think we’ll just let the police handle this.”

  “No, please. You don't have to do that,” I plead, although I know the manager is exactly right. If I were in her position, I would call the police, too. Since I’m Ava’s companion, however, I feel the need to try to defuse the situation. “We’re going to leave. It’s okay, we’re leaving.”

  Luckily, my words seem to give the manager pause, as she stops at the door she came out of and waits. She looks at me before glaring at Ava, who’s standing at the counter glaring at both of them like she’s really ready to set something ablaze. If she had matches with her, the fire department would be on its way right now.