Dr. Glass’s waiting room hasn’t changed at all in the year or so since the last time I was here. I was lucky she had a cancellation tonight, so I can talk to her before I decide whether or not to see Nina again on the fifth.

I flip the switch to let her know that I’m here and try to figure out what I’m going to say, but she opens the door to her office almost immediately.

“Vince. Good to see you, come in.”

“Hey Dr. Glass.”

I take a seat in the comfy floral sofa and move the throw pillows out of the way, like always. I know she thinks I’m trying to control the situation by doing this, but I don’t care. Comfy sofas don’t need more pillows.

She smiles at me, her notebook and pen on her lap. Her blonde-white hair is a little longer than she used to wear it, and she’s wearing lipstick. That’s new. At some point I had this fantasy that she and my Dad should meet and date and end up together, but that would have just been weird. She stares at me, watching and waiting.

I don’t have a fucking clue where to start. I’m rubbing my knuckles. I swear to God they haven’t hurt at all until I sat down here.

“Been a while,” she says, non-accusatory.

“Yeah, sorry. I got busy and things were, you know, coasting along.”

She slow-blinks and nods. “I know how it goes. You don’t have to apologize. I’m always here for you when you need me.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

She waits a few more seconds, and then says: “So what’s going on?”

My knee bounces up and down. “Yeah, I mean, it’s not really a big deal but it might be something, I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

I don’t know how much time passes before I finally say something, a few seconds or a minute. “What kind of dish detergent do you use?” Is what I blurt out.

She doesn’t even look at me like it’s a crazy non sequitur. This is probably how most sessions start with guys.

“For hand-washing? In the sink?”

“Yeah.”

“Dawn,” she says, “for really greasy pots and pans. Ivory for everything else.”

“You do? Is that pretty common? Ivory? That brand?”

“It’s quite popular among women. I’d imagine.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s easy on the skin of your hands and it smells nice.”

“It does…So how come I’ve only known two women who use it? Besides you now, I mean.”

She crosses her legs, leans back and drapes her arm over the back of her chair. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who are the two women?”

Pause.

“Um. So, I broke up with Sadie. I mean, she broke up with me. This weekend.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She says this as though she didn’t tell me five times that she didn’t think it was a good idea for me to get involved with my half-brother’s nanny.

“She told me that she was with someone else. Still is, I mean. For two months.”

“I see. How did that make you feel?”

“Made me feel like dancing.”

“Yeah?”

“No, it made me mad as fuck. Sorry. I wanted to beat the shit out of someone.”

“Who?”

“The guy. Russell.”

“Russell? You knew the man that she left you for?”

“No, I never met him. She told me his name. Russell. Never met a Russell that I liked. Ever. Except Russell Crowe. I mean I never met him, but he seems cool.”

She’s scribbling something on her notebook. “So you haven’t had contact with this Russell that she was seeing?”

“Is seeing.”

“She’s still seeing him.”

“Far as I know. No. I saw him. I…I followed her to his place after she told me, and then I followed him. For a little while.”

“Tell me about that.”

I tell her about that. I only have like thirty-five minutes left, so I tell her everything, all of a sudden, in a rush of words. Feeling-words. All that shit that she taught me to use back when I was just a walking container of rage. She scribbles like mad, keeps shifting around in her seat. She doesn’t interrupt me at all, and then waits for me to continue when I take a sip of water, even though I can tell she’s dying to comment because she’s tapping her pen on her thigh.

“I want to see her again.”

“To further work through your feelings of revenge towards her ex?”

“No, I just want to see her. I don’t even know if the revenge thing came into play once I started talking to her.”

“But you purposefully didn’t get her number?”

“No, but I told her I’d be back to paint the wall.”

“When?”

“Thursday morning.”

“Okay. And when you say you want to see her again, you mean that you’d like to have sex with her again?”

“Yeah. A lot. But I’ve also been thinking about what it would be like to have coffee with her in the morning. When I walked past a restaurant today I thought about having brunch with her there. Brunch! I hate going to brunch. I just had this feeling she’d like it.”

“That’s a nice thing, Vince.”

“I mean, what’s next? Thinking about marriage?”

She sits forward in her chair. “Are you thinking about marriage?”

“No! No. Definitely not. I just met her. I mean, we’re totally different. I just meant…I don’t know. She’s nice.”

“It’s okay if you don’t know what you meant. We can explore it some more in our next session.”

“Yeah. I mean. I guess. I think I’ve figured some things out talking to you already, though.”

“Have you?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that why you came to see me? To tell me about what happened?”

I sigh. Fucking shrinks. “No, not only. I wanted to ask your advice.”

“Okay. It sounds like this woman you’ve met is very special, and my recommendation is that you do not see her again until you’ve sorted through your anger and abandonment issues.”

“I don’t have abandonment issues. Sadie does. Charlie’s mom does.”

She gives me a look, like: Have I taught you nothing over the years, Vince? She thinks I’m projecting all of my youthful fears of abandonment onto Charlie and dealing with them myself by leaving women before they leave me. Whatever, maybe before. Not what happened this time. That shows I’ve changed. And I really don’t think I would do that with Nina.

“There are abandonment issues to be sorted through. Tell her you like her but you don’t want to ruin your chances for a real relationship by rebounding with each other.”

“But I don’t want her to be with anyone else.”

As soon as I say the words out loud I realize it’s true and it’s ridiculous. I barely know her. 

“Vince. I’m very pleased to hear that you’ve met someone that you’re responding to in this way. But you’ve just come out of your first long-term relationship. And while I’m proud of you for refraining from punching the principal…Rebounding is a thing. It’s a thing that we do because it’s more fun and easier than dealing with the feelings that are brought up by the end of a relationship. My concern is that rather than unpacking and working through your deepest feelings, you’re merely replacing one physical act for another. Fighting for fucking.”

My eyes flick up to meet hers. Every now and then she uses the f-word to make sure I’m paying attention. It works.

“Uh huh.” My knee is bouncing again.

“I’m not saying that what you’re beginning to feel for Nina isn’t real. I’m not trying to discourage you from being attracted to a good woman that you very much deserve. I’m saying that this is a delicate period for both of you, and if you want it to turn into a real lasting healthy relationship, then it’s better for both of you to deal with your own issues separately now before they get tangled up in hers. Do you understand?”

“Uh huh.” My stomach sinks. “Yeah, I hear you. I get it.”

“It’s just a matter of having patience, and trusting that things will work out with her if they’re meant to.”

“Yeah. I know. You’re right.”

I shouldn’t have come here.