General Fiction posted August 4, 2014 Chapters:  ...86 87 -88- 89... 

This work has reached the exceptional level
Sarah, distraught over current happenings, sees Dr. Mason

A chapter in the book Enough to Miss Christmas

Back to Dr. Mason

by Fridayauthor

While Sarah has confirmed some of what Karen has related about her mother, the main accusation remains unsubstantiated. Paul does not believe abuse occurred.
            I spent Tuesday evening, pretending with two other actors in my household, that we were a happy and trusting family without a care in the world. Meanwhile, the deceit I’d perpetrated upon my beloved husband tortured me more with the progression of each fake smile.
            We all said the right things at the right times, while a pallor of tension hung over three of us like the November fog that had settled on our shore. Only Timmy was immune to the uneasiness that blanketed the place. He blissfully romped about the house, playing a hiding game in which we all joined, demonstrating how accommodating to one another we’d become as a family.
            Paul had inquired how my one day venture to Boston had gone and I showed him my token purchase with nervous hands. He didn’t ask any other questions. I volunteered nothing. I didn’t converse with Karen except when the others were present. I bedded down early, with the excuse of a headache, one of my few honest pronouncements made the entire wretched day.
            Once again it was Wednesday; time to meet with the good doctor of brainology. Hopefully Dr. Mason possessed a remedy or two in his basket of tricks.  I asked Karen if we would visit Dr. Mason together or separately. I correctly sensed she wanted to see the doctor alone. I suggested she do so and she agreed.
            Dr. Mason was as eager as a kid to learn what secrets we’d mutually dredged from one another but expressed disappointment that Karen refused to tell him what I told her.
            “She wants to wait until next week, after you two discuss punishment for what you related.” Before he could say more, I cut him short.
            “This session is about Karen, exclusively,” I said and proceeded to relate, in detail, nearly everything my daughter had told me. I stopped short of mentioning the medication switching incident. He remained silent during my lengthy discourse except for a few scattered Ahs. I confessed how I’d deceitfully learned my partial confirmation.  The look on his face gave no doubt he condemned my method. Before he could verbalize his judgment of my action, I asked him if he believed Karen was truthful in what she said.
            “In my opinion she certainly believes the entire story, in her own mind. The fact that she’s relating it is a major step forward. Her story fits with many of her so-called phobias. It makes a lot of sense. As for the beatings, it’s difficult to think they could go undiscovered so long. Not knowing any objective details about the mother precludes us from confirming or denying the allegations. Whether or not Karen was actually beaten or how severely is secondary. She is no longer in that environment. The fact she had the courage to tell you demonstrates a trust that is very beneficial.”
            “It’s not secondary,” I said bluntly. “Her father doesn’t believe her, and she knows it.”
            “That’s unfortunate.”
            “Yes, it is. It’s damaging the relationship daughter and father has built since it came out in the open about his wife’s suicide. It’s ripping apart the fabric of our beautiful family. It caused me to go behind the back of the man I love, in a half-assed, stupid effort to play detective. Now I feel like shit over what I did and don’t know how to fix it. Nor do I know what to do with the little bit I’ve learned without telling him how I got it. He’ll toss me out of the house on my ass as well he should.”  Somehow, I’d managed not to bawl, barely.
             “I can understand your dilemma. You’re a person who won’t tolerate unresolved matters.” I didn’t disagree. “Is your husband adamant the whole story is a fabrication?”
            “Actually, Paul is quite logical in his argument. We didn’t yell and scream at each other. I didn’t even swear. We discussed it point by point. We simply failed to agree.”
            “That’s unfortunate.”
            “You said that, Doctor. What I’d like to hear you say is what I can do about it.”
            “Well, you were able to confirm some of Karen’s revelations. These things take time to resolve. We’re making strides and talking about long buried guilt and concerns. Karen is moving forward. Setbacks are to be expected. Perhaps if she and her father talked it out together . . .”
            “So he can tell her she’s either exaggerating, lying, acting out, self-delusional, or just plain daydreaming? So she can hear it all first hand? Meanwhile, she knows something; things that happened that were God-awful painful, in body and mind and her own father won’t believe her. Not only was he not there when she needed him, he still isn’t there! She’ll have to wonder if anyone is there for her.”
            “You are. Her relationship with you is precious to her.”
            “Not if Paul helps me pack my bag before he tosses me out! Who will she have then?”
            The jerk smiled. “I’m fairly certain your husband won’t do that.”
            “He ought to!” That’s when I lost it. “I’d subjugate Karen’s feeling toward me in a minute if it would improve her feelings about herself. These two people I love beyond measure, are at odds with one another. It’s killing me.” I bawled a dozen Kleenex, wasting more of my husband’s money.
            Whatever else Dr. Mason blabbered for the rest of the session fell on deaf ears. My feet hurt, my back hurt, I felt like shit all over, and I had to pee. I was tired of listening to it. I wanted to put all this business behind me and concentrate on my baby. I left the doctor’s office for my next chore, a drive to the Salem office of my obstetrician. There was little hope this visit would halt my spiraling decent downward in view of what I’d discovered.

Earned A Seal Of Quality

Enough to Miss Christmas is a family love story, about sisters, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, parents and children. Foremost, it tells the story of a step mom and a precocious young lady and how they bond in spite of overwhelming odds.
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