Chapter 168

Almara’s Pov

Author and I have been seeing Maurice for just over a month now and I got to hand it to her, she’s good. I think what I love most about Maurice is that I don’t know anything about her personally.

I don’t know her opinions, much about her hobbies or interests, her political stance, or even much about her own family.

I know that might sound strange, but the less I know about her the more Author and I are illuminated through the conversation. No matter what I say, she mirrors what I’m feeling and not what she’s feeling and I appreciate that.

Maurice doesn’t ever flat out tell us what she’s thinking, she prefers a more discovery approach. It’s nice to actually be heard and understood. It’s weird. It’s like I want to send her a Christmas card, but I know this is also just her job.

One thing I can’t quite seem to understand at the moment is why Maurice keeps pulling the conversation back to Grace. She’s taken an interest in her and I don’t know why- I mean she’s adorable and brilliant of course, but I don’t think that’s why Maurice keeps asking about her.

Author and I are currently in the waiting room, a place that’s grown comfortable to us. I’m leaning back in the comfortable leather seats while Author inspects a painting, his arms crossed behind his back.

“I think I’ve been here before.” Arthur says, keeping his eyes focused on the landscape. It’s an oil painting of a lake leading to a purple mountain reflected in the water and a big full moon off to the side which is reflected also in the glistening water.

I cock my head. It looks like the type of painting that’s hung up in every single waiting room, ever. Either it’s all the same specific place, or nowhere that really exists.

“Probably.” I tell him, given that Author has been everywhere in the world, if this oil painting does exist then Arthur would be the one to have visited it.

Author’s been opening us more during our sessions too. I can still he’s holding back and while I want to press for more information, Maurice says that force will never get us to a place of comfortable vulnerability.

She says things like this and at first I wanted to crawl out of my skin, but now I’ve come to appreciate the way she gives languages for ambiguous notions.

Just then she pokes her head out the door and gives us the usual warm smile that lets us know she’s ready for us. Arthur finally peels his eyes away from the waiting and puts his hands on the small of my back and leads me inside.

That’s the other benefit of therapy, Arthur and I haven’t been able to keep our hands off of each other. I don’t know what it is about opening up emotionally, but it’s greatly impacting our physical intimacy as well. If we keep it up at this rate, Grace might have a sibling soon.

“So, how are you two?” Maurice asks, dipping her green tea bag into her small cup precisely three times. Maybe this is one habit I’ve noticed of Maurices, she always plunges the looseleaf tea into the steaming water three times, a second per each dip.

“Good.” I say and smile at Arthur. “Really good.”

“That’s wonderful.” Maurice says, her eyes crinkling as she smiles. “And how’s Grace?” I don’t know why, but I’ve come to dread this question. I get very protective of my daughter.

“She’s excelling as usual.” Arthur says, spreading his arms out over the back of the couch.

“I was wondering if you would like to bring her into a session one of these weeks.” Maurice says, taking a careful sip of her hot tea. She doesn’t look at us as she asks this and good thing, because I narrow my eyes and crease for my forehead.

“Why?” Arthur asks, though I know Maurice won’t come right out and tell us exactly why.

“I like to see how the whole family interacts with one another.” Maurice says, which only partially answers the question and has me wondering about a lot more, like what would she be looking for?

“It’s not like she can share much in the conversation, or really offer insight into me and Arthur.” I say more as a question than a statement. But it’s true. Grace is only one, she isn’t aware of ‘emotional depth’ to use another one of Maurices phrases.

Maurice sets her tea down and her eyebrows lift ever so slightly. “Oh, on the contrary! She may not have the language, but the unconscious connections she’s making among family dynamic are clearly evident in behavior and non-verbal responses.”

“Okay,” I say slowly, still processing what Maurice means. “But, how would that relate to me and Arthur?” I ask.

Maurice purses her lips like she’s thinking. “Well,” she starts “seeing how your offspring responds to the two of you together would show the impact of your relationship. In other words, my monitoring Grace’s behavior when she sees her parents we can evaluate the positives and negatives of your relationship.”

Maurice speaks as if it’s routine, but I can’t help but feel a bit slighted. Is she saying Arthur and I are a bad influence on our daughter? I think back to the time when we shared with Maurice about how Grace escaped us on the island and I wish now more than ever we didn’t share that.

I take a deep breath. I’m being paranoid. Maurice could never think that ill of Arthur and me. She tells us all the time how great we are. Of course we had to tell her about Grace’s disappearance, that was a major crisis in me and Arthur’s relationship. She’s only here to help.

“Do you think we’re unfit parents?” Arthur asks and I try to conceal my flinch at his bluntness. He isn’t necessarily being rude, but more plain terms would be helpful. At least I’m not the only one wondering this.

“I would never make that assessment without an evaluation first.” Maurice says raising her palm to the air as if taking an oath. It’s not really a satisfactory answer, I mean she didn’t say “No, of course not. You two are the best parents in the world.”

I bring my gaze to side-eye Arthur and can see a little vein twitching on his forehead. “So, we have to prove we’re good parents?” He says and I know from previous sessions we should drop the conversation now.

When Arthur gets defensive, it can very challenging to actually get the conversation going anywhere. This is why Maurice doesn’t usually push him, which in turn actually gets Arthur to open up, but now Maurice just lets out a sigh.

“I don’t mean it like that. It’s entirely up to you.” Maurice says and I wish she would just leave it at that, but what she says next makes my jaw drop. “Of course, if you have nothing to hide then it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Arthur jumps to his feet and I tug at his arm, trying to keep him clam. “We’re leaving now.” Arthur says through gritted teeth. Maurice just takes another sip of her tea and doesn’t say anything, but I get the feeling she thinks Arthur’s temper is prove her right.

I rise shakily to meet Arthur and follow behind him as he stomps out the door. I turn back wanting to say something to Maurice to try and ease the whole situation, but nothing comes to mind. She gives me a look that says she understands, and I’m going to have to just hope she does.

“What the hell was that!” Arthur asks before the door can even close behind us as we leave the building. I wait to answer him until we’re in the safety of our black Lexus.

“Look, let’s just bring Grace next time and show Maurice that we’re one big happy family.” I say click my seatbelt on.

“We’re not going back there.” Arthur spits. “She implied were unfit parents.”

“We don’t know if she implied anything.” I say, still wanting to believe that Maurice has a good opinion of us. “She said she can’t make any decisions until she evaluates.” I throw my hands up. “She’s scientific, I mean we wouldn’t want her to jump to conclusions on anything, right?”

“Except the fact that we’re good parents.” Arthur huffs.

“Yes.” I admit. “That maybe should be a given, but who cares. It just shows she’s unbiased, which is a good thing.” I remind him. Arthur still has a sour look on his face, but his body is less tense.

“Fine.” He says, rubbing his stubble. “We’ll bring Grace.”