CHAPTER SIX
Dr. Palmer was nearly the same height as me, with hair whiter than a swab of cotton, and crinkles around his eyes. He adjusted his glasses incessantly, which made me think it was more of a tick than a necessity, and he was quick to smile.
“Ms. Evans,” he said, taking my hand firmly when Finn introduced us. “Good to meet you.”
“It’s good to meet you, too.” I smiled, and glanced at Finn when he put his arm around me. “Thank you for coming in on such short notice.”
“It was either that or lunch with the wife.” He grinned. “I told her I had a hot date with a younger woman and wouldn’t be making it.”
My mouth opened in surprise.
He laughed. “I wouldn’t worry too much. She said she’d eat dinner early with her hot young masseur and we’d be even.”
“I really hope I didn’t cause any problems.”
“Of course you didn’t.” He looked around Finn’s office. “I wouldn’t have come otherwise. Betsy and I joke like that all the time. keeps the mystery alive.” He met my eyes. “But we’re not here to talk about me.”
“It makes me less uncomfortable than talking about myself,” I admitted.
“We’ll ease you in, no worries. Where would you like to sit?”
“The table will be fine.” I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to do the couch thing yet.
Dr. Palmer nodded, turning to Finn. “I’d like to start with Ms. Evans alone if you don’t mind.”
I started to protest, to tell him I didn’t mind Finn being in here with me, but he inclined his head at me in a way that said he had a purpose behind what he was asking.
Finn’s hand tensed on my back. I knew he wanted to be in here, but he only kissed my cheek. “Let me know if you need me. I’ll send Leslie in with some water and food.”
Dr. Palmer gestured to the table. “Please. Sit. I know Finn. He’s protective when he wants to be. It’ll be hard for him to relax when we’re talking, I think.”
I sat at the table, thanking Leslie when she brought in a tray with water and an array of snacks. My stomach was too tense to eat, but I snagged a bottle of water and twisted the cap anxiously, waiting for Dr. Palmer to begin.
“Ah…” He looked at his notebook as he settled in his chair. “Ms. Evans. You—”
“Charlotte, please.”
“Charlotte. Of course. Finn told me a little about your situation, but focused mostly on the nightmares. Says you’ve been sleepwalking.”
I swallowed a gulp of water. “I woke up in the closet last night without any idea how I got there.”
“And this isn’t the first time you’ve done this?”
“No.”
“And the other times? Did you go to the closet as well?”
“Sometimes, I’m…running. Or—or trying to…fight?”
He looked up from his notebook and adjusted his glasses. “Fight what?”
“The person in my dream.”
“Finn said you have nightmares about your ex-fiancé.”
“That’s right.” I twisted the cap on the water, off and on, off and on.
“It makes you nervous talking about him?”
“I don’t like to, no.”
“Maybe that’s something we can get to when you feel more comfortable,” he said.
“Unfortunately, I think that’s the root of the nightmares. I’m…God, this is hard. I don’t know how much Finn told you.”
“Anything he told me, and what you tell me, stays with me. So, it won’t hurt if you repeat anything he’s said. I want to get your take on what’s happening. How long have you been having the nightmares?”
“Since…since I left my ex. But, uh…they were just nightmares. And they got less and less frequent until I came here to Oasis.”
“And since you and Finn resumed your relationship. Is that correct? He seemed concerned that he might have something to do with it.”
“No. I mean, yes, they’ve gotten worse since then but it’s not Finn’s fault.”
“No, it’s no one’s fault.” Dr. Palmer adjusted his glasses again. “But his presence might be triggering the dreams.”
“You really think so?”
He angled his head. “What do you think?”
I took another sip of water. What did I think? That I wanted this to stop but I had no idea how to make it end. “I…”
“Honestly, Charlotte. There are no right or wrong answers here, just what you feel. Why do you think you’ve been having these nightmares more frequently?”
I fidgeted in my seat. It felt like there was a right or wrong answer, I just didn’t know it. “Everything feels unresolved. Mark’s been contacting me since I’ve been here and I’m…I’m scared of him. Things are unresolved.”
“Deep rooted fear can trigger all sorts of things. I wouldn’t hesitate to equate your anxiety with these nightmares. You’re dreaming of your ex because you’re worried about him in some form or another. And the sleepwalking? Well, that’s just your body’s response to what it’s feeling. Adrenaline, fear, a need to survive if that’s the case.” He smiled gently. “I’m assuming it is.”
I dropped my chin, part of me embarrassed and part of me exhausted with the same story. “There was abuse, yes. Serious abuse.”
He set down his pen and pulled off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. “I’m not saying resolution will stop the dreams altogether, but it could help. That and something for anxiety might at least help the day to day, and maybe the sleepwalking as well.”
A prescription I could handle. But resolution?
“I don’t know how to get closure on this if all I’m doing is waiting for the next thing to happen,” I said.
“That’s understandable. But how do you know something else is going to happen?”
John. He told me. But even then, unless I talked to him I might not know when, or where, or what.
“There’s something I can do that might help,” I said. “Give me some answers.”
Dr. Palmer nodded. “And if you can step out of your comfort zone to do it, I’d recommend it. But I’d like to discuss it first. As for the rest…” He sighed and checked his watch. “We don’t have a lot of time today, but Charlotte, you know much of anxiety stems from the unknown. Your system has been on alert, preparing for something you can’t predict. It’ll wear you down. It’ll steal your days, and nights—as you’ve experienced. Taking something for anxiety is a start, but also, taking those moments when you have them. To breathe deep, to let go of what you can’t control, and to trust you’re doing all you can in the meantime.”
I talked with Dr. Palmer for ten more minutes, but our conversation eased into simpler topics, including my engagement with Finn and the enormity of the changes in my life. Dr. Palmer was also inclined to think change equaled upheaval–though not necessarily in a bad way.
Before I knew it, we’d taken up my entire lunch hour and Finn returned to the room. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but—”
“No problem,” Dr. Palmer said, standing. “I have another appointment to get to, and then I’m going to pick up a loaf of French bread for my wife. She’s not a big flower person,” he said by way of explanation. “Might as well get her something she can use.”
“Smart man,” I said.
He said his goodbyes and Finn walked him out of the office. I snagged a piece of watermelon from the tray, my mouth full when Finn returned.
“French bread, huh? That must be what’s kept their marriage going for so long.”
“That and being able to joke with each other.”
Finn walked over to wrap his arms around my waist. “I’m not sure how I feel about you joking about hot young guys who give you massages.”
“No? That doesn’t make you want me even more?”
“That makes me want to lock you in our apartment so no one else can have you. And before you say that sounds like something Dr. Palmer might need to hear about, just put yourself in my shoes.”
“I am.” I squeezed his butt. “You keep far, far away from those hot young women. Especially if they offer you a massage.”
He grinned. “Will do.” His smile faded some as he pulled me to the couch. “I didn’t like not being in here.”
I stopped when he prepared to sit. “I have to go back to work.”
“Just a minute. Talk to me a minute, let me know you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.” Finn pulled me down to the couch and I allowed myself to sit for a minute. “He thinks something for anxiety will help. He left a prescription.”
“Good. We can fill it before we go home tonight. We’re leaving early, by the way.”
“What?” I stood. “Then I’d really better get back to work.”
He caught my hand. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”
“About my meeting with Dr. Palmer?”
He nodded.
“It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it, it’s that I don’t have time. And well…you might not want to hear some of it.”
Like the part about resolution. Like how I felt it might be very important to talk to John.
“Now I’m worried,” Finn said. He stood. “Charlotte—”
“Later. I need to go.”
“One more thing,” he said, following me to the door.
“No time.”
He smiled. “Yes, time. How’s your list coming?”
“Oh. I left it back in my office.”
“Lots of ideas?”
“Actually, just one for tonight.”
“Tell me.”
I shook my head. “I’ll think of something else.”
He walked around me and blocked the door. “Then I’m afraid you can’t go back to work.”
“Finn.”
“Tell me.”
“It’s not an idea, it’s—”
“Tell me.”
I sighed, folding my arms. “I just…I just want to be with you. Like the old times. Watching TV, cooking something together or listening to music. I want the whole evening with you alone, with nothing planned so we can make our own plans. But—”
“That sounds perfect.” He grabbed my hand and kissed my fingertips. “I want that, too. We have the rest of the weekend to go out and do something–if that’s what you want. Your choice.”
“If it’s my choice, then yes, tonight I want to stay in.”
“Your wish is my command.”
I grinned. “Right now, my wish is to get back to work.”
He stepped to the side to let me through. “Yes, ma’am. Finish early.”
Tossing him an exasperated look, I walked from his office and waved at Leslie before making my way back to my own office.
As usual, Dustin walked us to our apartment. But unlike usual, he stepped inside, insisting on doing a check of the space before we entered.
“This isn’t normal,” I told Finn.
He held my hand, waiting patiently for Dustin to emerge. “It’s safer this way.”
“You’d better not be keeping anything from me.”
He frowned. “Curtis called this afternoon. He wanted to up security a little.”
My heartbeat picked up. I knew something was wrong when Shane rode with me up to the office this morning.
Finn caught my chin in between his thumb and forefinger. “I’ll tell you about it.”
“Good.” I pulled out the note I’d made at my desk, with my plans for tonight. “Because it’s on my list of what I want to do tonight.”
Amused, he took the paper and read, his lips quirking as he did. “You have ‘drink wine’ on here a few times. Planning on getting drunk?”
“I figured it would be a continuous thing throughout the night. A filler, so to speak. Since…you know, we need to talk about things.”
“Things,” he said. He straightened when Dustin returned. “Everything okay?”
Dustin nodded. “Good to go. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do.”
Finn nudged me inside the door before I could say anything else. “Stop feeling bad for him. And stop feeling guilty about last night.”
I turned, bumping into him when he continued walking behind me. “I made a scene last night, Finn. It was bad enough Curtis knows how crazy I am, but now Shane—and Dustin, I’m sure he’s already aware—”
“You’re not crazy. But that reminds me, you should take one of your pills.”
“I can’t drink those with wine, Finn. And pills aren’t on my list.”
He sighed. “Tonight, before bed then.”
What he wasn’t saying was that he didn’t want another episode like last night. And neither did I. I took the bag from him. “Before bed.”
Relieved, he gave me a kiss. “Since wine was on your list, I’ll open something while you get comfortable.”
“Thanks.”
I wandered to the bedroom and pulled out a pair of shorts and a comfortable T-shirt. Then I turned and sighed, taking in the room. Tammy had cleaned, making the bed, fluffing the pillows and making the room smell fresh like lemons.
Pulling my hair into a high bun, I smiled when Finn joined me. “This is our house,” I said.
He angled his head at me.
“I know it’s silly.” I shrugged and started out of the room.
Finn caught my hand. “Not silly. Help me understand.”
“I guess with Mark…” I looked away when I said his name, but Finn turned my chin so I was looking at him again. “I thought I had the fairytale. I found out quickly that it wasn’t and I thought I’d never have the real thing. But I do. Here with you. And I love our place.”
“I love that you love our place. That’s all that matters to me.”
I smiled up at him. “You don’t love our place?”
He looked around, probably as disinterested in the furniture and layout and general design as I was in love. “It’s…nice.”
I laughed. “Get out of those clothes, mister. It’s time to relax.”
“You want to help me?”
I danced away when he inched closer. “No! We have to stick to the plan.”
“Your list?”
“Yes. You didn’t see ‘Undress Finn’ on the list, did you?”
He grinned and undid his tie. “I’m pretty sure I saw it on there somewhere.”
“Let me refresh your memory. Talk, drink, relax.”
“Drink,” he added. “Don’t forget that.”
“Oh, and drink.” I smirked. “Get comfortable and get your ass out here.”
Before he could stop me, I padded barefoot down the hallway and entered the kitchen. I noticed a note Tammy had left, and smiled.
Lasagna in the refrigerator if you want to heat it up. Ice cream in freezer, not for heating.
I peeked into the refrigerator. There was a small casserole dish covered and nestled next to a loaf of French bread.
“Your housekeeper is amazing!” I hollered to Finn.
His laughter floated to me from down the hallway. “She’s your housekeeper now, too!”
I poured glass of wine and heard the buzz of Finn’s phone from the jacket he’d tossed over the chair at the counter. “Your phone,” I called, fumbling to pull it out of his jacket pocket.
Something else popped out at the same time and fluttered to the ground at my feet. I bent to retrieve it and froze when I saw Tracy’s smiling face staring up at me. Deliberately pulling in a calming breath, I retrieved the photo Finn had taken from me this morning.
When he met me at the kitchen counter. I passed him his phone although the call had gone to voicemail. I also set the photograph on the surface between us.
I calmly poured him a glass of wine. After he took his first sip, I slid the picture closer to him and said, “We’d better start here.”
He gave me a smile that came off as more of a grimace. “Was that on your list?”
I returned his smile. “My choice, remember? Let’s get this dealt with.”
He sighed. “The whole truth.”
“That’s right. The whole truth.”