C1 Chapter 1

The Therapist

The therapist sat in her armchair and smiled. “How are you feeling today?”

“Good.” Anna smiled as well. “I always feel good when I see you.”

The therapist’s smile didn’t change. “Tell me about your week.”

“Would you go out for coffee with me sometime?” Anna asked, instead of answering the question.

The therapist raised her eyebrows. “Why?” she asked.

“Why not?” Anna replied.

“Because you’re my patient?” The therapist seemed not even a tiny bit ruffled by Anna’s inappropriate question, and perhaps even entirely disinterested.

“I just feel that our relationship has . . . matured,” said Anna. “Beyond that of merely therapist and patient. Don’t you think so?”

The expression on the therapist’s face became even more professional. “Why do you think so?” she asked.

Anna gave her a searching look. “We understand one another. We can talk about anything. It’s more than a professional relationship. I’ve never felt like anyone understands me the way you do. If this were in one of my books, I’d call it love.”

“All of my patients,” the therapist laughed softly, “male and female, ‘love’ me. We call that transference.”

“I know,” said Anna. “I’m familiar with the term. But aren’t there exceptions? Haven’t you ever fallen in love with a patient,” she grinned, “male or female? As close as we get to one another?”

“That would be unprofessional,” the therapist replied coolly. “There are no exceptions.”

“I’ve never admired a woman the way I admire you,” Anna said softly, almost surprised. “This is completely new for me.”

“You admire me because I’m helping you to find yourself,” the therapist replied. “That’s completely normal. Once you’ve found yourself, when you’ve gotten to that point in therapy, you’ll stop fantasizing that you love me. That’s just a subjective impression that passes with time.”

“No.” Anna got up from the matching armchair, leaned over her, and kissed her. “Was that a subjective impression that passes with time?” she asked defiantly. “Was that mere fantasy?”

The therapist studied Anna from below, her gaze neutral. “You’re good at fantasies,” she replied, completely unperturbed, as if the kiss had never happened. “You are a writer, after all.”

Suddenly uneasy under this clinical scrutiny, Anna straightened up, turned around, and sat down again. “Excuse me,” she murmured, embarrassed. “I went too far.”

“That’s an old problem of yours,” said the therapist. “You cross people’s boundaries in real life the same way your characters do in your books. But fantasy isn’t reality.”

“Are you familiar with my books?” asked Anna.

“No.” The therapist smiled gently. “But I can imagine.”

“You’re straight.” Anna laughed derisively. “What could you possibly imagine?”

“It’s not a matter of sexual orientation.” The therapist shifted in her armchair, as if suddenly uncomfortable. “Boundary violations are a universal psychological problem.”

“They are that,” Anna replied slowly, observing her opponent closely. They were evenly matched, she was sure of it. That was the appeal. Nonetheless, she hadn’t made any headway over the last six months. Neither with her neurosis, nor with Dr. Kaiser, Ph.D.

“Why is it so difficult to gauge other people’s boundaries?” she asked.

“It’s difficult for you .” Dr. Kaiser laughed. “Not everyone has so much trouble with it.”

“But you haven’t set any boundaries with me,” Anna claimed. “That’s why I could cross them.”

“A boundary you couldn’t cross would have to be secured with barbed wire,” said Dr. Kaiser. “And I’m afraid I don’t have any handy.” She smiled. “Even if I did, I’m not sure you wouldn’t just cut right through it.”

Anna took a deep breath. “Am I really that bad?”

Dr. Kaiser considered her for a long, thoughtful moment. “You’re used to being in control – of your stories, your characters,” she said. “You dictate what they do, where they do it, when they do it, and what the consequences are. There’s nothing you don’t decide.”

Anna laughed. “Apparently you don’t know my characters very well!”

“You’re evading,” said Dr. Kaiser. “Whenever I get too close, you try to sidestep me.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Anna replied with a smile. “On the contrary.”

“Or you flirt with me – which is another type of evasion,” Dr. Kaiser continued. “Ducking into territory that’s comfortable for you – where you feel superior. Where you can’t lose.”

“I don’t particularly like losing,” Anna admitted. “That’s true.” She leaned forward and smiled at her therapist. “But I’m convinced you could still teach me a thing or two about flirting . . . and I wouldn’t mind learning from you at all.”

Dr. Kaiser laughed softly. “Which brings us back to the subject . . .” She shook her head. “Just drop it, Ms. Lessing. This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

“Isn’t it?” Anna asked, still smiling. “Persistence is one of my most successful tactics. Steady drips wear down the hardest stone.”

“Like with Sabrina?” Dr. Kaiser became serious. “That’s why you’re here now.”

Anna’s smile died. She threw up her hands. “You’re too clever for me,” she sighed. “Always leading me back to the straight and narrow. No woman’s ever managed that before.”

“The straight and narrow?” Dr. Kaiser raised her eyebrows. “You?”

Anna shrugged. “I think I’ve been quite virtuous over the last several months.”

“Then our definitions of the term differ considerably.” Dr. Kaiser contemplated a point in midair. “As far as I can recall, since you’ve been coming here, you’ve mentioned at least one new woman a week whom you’ve . . . gotten to know. I would estimate twelve women in twelve weeks.”

“Yes, well, that’s only three months,” said Anna. “I was quite virtuous during the other three,” she grinned, “if you haven’t left anything out in your bookkeeping. But it sounds like you’ve been keeping a pretty close count.”

“I make notes after every session,” Dr. Kaiser remarked dryly. “It’s part of my job. But I can’t know, of course,” she paused briefly, “whether or not the list you’ve given me is complete.”

“I don’t keep lists,” said Anna, “I leave that to you – if you enjoy it.”

“It’s one of my duties to keep written records of every session,” said Dr. Kaiser. “I don’t find it particularly enjoyable, it’s simply my professional responsibility.”

“And how many patients do you have who can chalk up that kind of a list?” asked Anna.

“Are you proud of it?” Dr. Kaiser asked in return.

Anna opened her mouth to answer, but then didn’t.

“You are ,” Dr. Kaiser determined. “In a way.”

Anna shrugged again. “It’s too easy to be proud of.”

“Has any woman ever said no to you?” Dr. Kaiser asked. “Other than Sabrina?”

“If only she had!” Anna moaned in despair, burying her head in her hands. “If only she’d never said yes . . .”

“Which, no doubt, would have very difficult with you,” Dr. Kaiser supposed. “When I consider your behavior. . .today, for example –”

“My aggressiveness never made any impression on Sabrina – no more than it did on you,” said Anna.

“Oh, it made an impression on me,” replied Dr. Kaiser. “Just not the one you were hoping for.”

“Have you ever kissed a woman?” asked Anna. “I mean – not me, today. Another woman.”

“I didn’t kiss you,” Dr. Kaiser corrected her. “You kissed me . I think you know the difference.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” said Anna.

“We’re not here to answer that question,” said Dr. Kaiser. “This is about you, not about me.”

“But it interests me,” Anna persisted.

“I know.” Dr. Kaiser smiled.

Anna felt that smile penetrate the deepest fibers of her body. That kiss today was the last straw. She could still feel the softness of Dr. Kaiser’s lips on her own.

“Time’s up,” Dr. Kaiser said suddenly, with a glance at her watch. “Until next week.” She stood up.

“Already?” Anna felt disappointment creep over her. “The time always passes much too fast.” But she stood up too.

“Time always passes at the same pace,” said Dr. Kaiser as she walked Anna to the door. “You just feel like it passes faster when you’re with me.”

Anna stepped closer to her and leaned forward.

Dr. Kaiser frowned. “One kiss is enough for today,” she said. “I’ll see you next week.”

“I wasn’t going to –” Anna hadn’t been conscious of how close she’d come to Dr. Kaiser’s mouth when she’d leaned toward her.

“You have trouble saying goodbye to a woman without kissing her, don’t you?” asked Dr. Kaiser. “We’ll have to work on that.”

Anna could say no more; she simply nodded, shook Dr. Kaiser’s hand, and left.