As the years slowly moved on, we settled into our new lives and began enjoying the success of our businesses in Radcliffe. I continued to experience moments like the one with the song in the backyard back in Huntsville. They were sporadic, but every time I thought I’d had my last, it’d happen again. Certain things seemed to set them off, only there wasn’t much rhyme or reason other than they’d happen whenever something inadvertently awakened a vivid memory of Madeline.
I was nowhere near ready to consider diving into any type of serious relationship even several years after her death, but I had hooked up a few times. The first time I tried I’d had a few beers in me, and at first, I felt fine. Kissing someone else’s lips still felt wrong, but I reasoned it’d been long enough and it was part of moving on. Then halfway through as the making out got heavier, I had visuals of Madeline and the giddy way she’d greet me every time I picked her up. That alone was enough to nearly stop my heart, but when the visuals hit of her becoming hysterical in the cave the day her mother told her about America and me in the alley, I nearly lost it.
Fortunately, we’d been in a dark corner of a bar that my brothers and I had stopped into to grab a few beers. I bolted out of there, leaving the confused girl behind without explanation. Nearly sick to my stomach, I paced around the parking lot, drowning in that same familiar despair I’d felt for too long. My brothers were out there just a few minutes later.
They’d seen me chatting with the chick and how cozy we’d been getting. I hadn’t missed their exchanged glances and approving smirks and smiles as I walked off into a corner booth with her. I knew they were likely happy to see me moving on since, up until then as far as they knew, I hadn’t done even that with another girl. So when they walked out and I probably looked as horrified as the whole incident had made me feel, they hadn’t even asked what happened. All they were concerned about was if I was okay.
The dreams weren’t immediately back in full swing. They hadn’t exactly ceased completely before that incident, but they’d begun to taper down. Even after the incident, while they increased, they weren’t too bad. But once again, the dreams were different in nature from the ones where I couldn’t make out what Madeline was saying. I still couldn’t make out what she was saying in these new dreams, but they were less traumatic. I’d dream of her painting peacefully on our pier as I watched, lost in adoration.
But then during the holidays several years after having moved to Radcliffe I had another visual as I walked through the mall that dripped with holiday decorations. I’d been shopping for Ama. She was the only one I ever looked for a special gift for anymore. I hadn’t shopped for any other woman since . . .
As usual, there were Christmas ornaments as far as the eye could see. Then out of nowhere I was hit with that suffocating ache in my heart. Visuals of the ornament I’d gifted Madeline on our first Christmas together—a Precious Moments ornament of a couple on a scooter—hit me like a bucket of ice water to my face. I had to sit down at the first bench I could find before my legs gave out on me and I caused a scene in the crowded mall.
Up until now every new year that passed I’d convince myself that it was the year I’d finally get over the pain and now this. “It’s been over five fucking years,” I muttered in utter frustration as the ache in my heart threatened to bring me to my knees.
The holidays were shot for me after that. The dreams were back in full force. After leaving Huntsville and making so much progress, I’d decided I no longer needed therapy, but as the dreams progressed and I’d wake to an aching heart that left me restless and reeling almost the entire day, I began to reconsider continuing with my therapy. After the new year and with the encouragement of my family, I made the decision to go back to therapy.
Since getting to Dr. Windward’s office meant driving through Huntsville, I decided just to seek out a new one in Radcliffe. Dr. Hidalgo was also a woman, but unlike Dr. Windward who was probably in her sixties, Dr. Hidalgo was likely in her thirties. I’d done a double take when she came out to greet me and call me into her office. She was nothing short of stunning. Tall, with bottle blond hair she wore up, but I could tell it was long and thick. As obvious as it was that she tried to tone down her sensually curvy attributes, it was impossible to hide them.
It was distracting as all hell, but after just one meeting with her, I decided it was a distraction I needed. I’d never had a type, but after Madeline, I knew natural blondes with big beautiful blue eyes were it for me. I loved everything about Madeline, including her feisty personality—especially that spunk. So something about Dr. Hidalgo being so opposite to Madeline in almost every way made my attraction to her feel less wrong than all the other random women I’d since managed to hook up with without freaking out. From her dark features to her ever-so-calm demeanor, right down to her being nearly twelve years older than I, I couldn’t possibly ever fall for a woman like her.
Yet, sitting there talking to her for an hour in each of my sessions with her was a distraction I began to crave. “Have you had sexual relations since Madeline died?” she’d asked as professionally as she’d asked every question up until then.
I nodded, and while she remained as professional as ever, I thought I’d begun to see a glimmer in her eyes when we spoke on this subject. At first, I was sure I was imagining it. It was wishful thinking on my part since thoughts of what it’d be like to have her under me began to invade my mind more often than not at that point.
Ama often said God works so mysteriously but he’s always looking out even when you don’t think he is. It’s exactly what happened with me and Dr. Hidalgo—Tara.
As our sessions went on, I’d begun to do some of the asking. I knew a little more about her because she’d shared a few things about her personal life in relation to what we were discussing about me. So I was curious. “Why aren’t you married? Are you still trying to get over someone too? Is that why someone as beautiful as you is single?”
Her responses remained professional. Her career had always come first, and her social life had taken a back seat. She’d never been in any relationship serious enough to affect her in the way I’d suggested. She’d been flattered by my calling her beautiful, but warned we should get back to me.
We would, but eventually the conversation would go full circle, and we’d be back to me indulging in my curiosity about her. Nothing about her reminded me of Madeline, and I think it was what I liked best. That and the fact that she knew and understood now better than any woman I’d ever meet the extent of my still aching heart for another woman.
I asked if it were possible to meet in another setting just so my session wouldn’t be so depressing in her little office. At first, she said she didn’t think it a good idea, but I could feel her giving into what I knew she was starting to feel.
She finally agreed to meet at a diner for breakfast. Even then, she was so different from Madeline, who’d enjoyed her heavy breakfasts like corn beef and hash and biscuits and gravy. Tara ordered oatmeal with a side of fruit and a multigrain muffin.
I watched as she sprinkled some blueberries and nuts into her oatmeal then glanced back down at my lumberjack breakfast special. I had to chuckle and shook my head as I reached for my sourdough toast.
“Something funny?”
I glanced up at her with a smirk. “Our breakfasts are just so different. What are you? Vegan?”
She smiled, looking down at her food then up at mine. “Something like that. But I love my dairy and eggs, so I’m more of a vegetarian.”
“So you don’t eat meat?”
“Yeah, I haven’t had meat in over ten years.”
For whatever reason, her being this different from my peanut made it easier to consider trying to move things further than just a hook up with Tara. It in no way felt like I was trying to replace Madeline. At least no one could ever accuse me of that. Not only had Tara mentioned during one of my sessions when I brought up Madeline’s painting that she had zero artistic abilities, she’d also mentioned on another occasion that she enjoyed cooking.
After our breakfast session together, which consisted of us speaking on a more personal level, not just my personal life and feelings, but hers as well, things gradually changed. Her being a vegetarian led to debates where I insisted people needed meat to live. On my way out of my session one day as she walked me to the door of her office, I made a comment. “I’m sorry, but I don’t care what you say. I just don’t think a meatless dish like say a veggie burger or meatless lasagna could ever actually rival the real thing.”
“My brother said the same thing,” she admitted as I stopped at the door before opening it. “Then I made him a vegetarian meatball sandwich that he very much enjoyed. He couldn’t believe it had no meat.”
“No way,” I said, shaking my head. “I’d know.”
“Don’t tempt me to make you one and prove you wrong because I will.”
I stared at her for a moment, my eyes falling to her lips. When I glanced up to her eyes, the twinkle in them that had been there just moments earlier switched to sudden alarm. As if she’d just caught herself. “Your place or mine?”
“I . . .” She shook her head even as her eyes glanced down at my lips but quickly raced back up to meet mine. “I meant I could make it and bring it—”
“Not a chance. I’d need to see you make it if I’m gonna believe it’s not actually meat.”
“Nicolas,” she said, and I could see her breathing accelerate a bit. “Having our session outside my office was already bordering on inappropriate.”
Our mutual attraction was probably the only thing that had any semblance to my relationship with Madeline. I could see it in her eyes; she wanted this as much as I did, but this was not allowed. Only we were both adults and this was an easy fix.
Licking my lips, I leaned in and kissed her softly. “I’ll get another therapist.”
As expected, she gave in, and my session that day ended my official therapy with Tara as our relationship moved to a whole new level.