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The Good Listener

Page 2

by B. M. Hardin


  I wanted to connect with them. I wanted to get to know them. And I allowed them to know a little about me during the process.

  In order to help them, they had to trust me. And I was damn good at getting them to do just that. I took pride in saying that I was one of the best. I was one of the best in the city, in the state, and according to the recent reports and news broadcast, maybe even the world.

  There wasn’t a patient that I couldn’t fix.

  I was sure of it, and so far, I hadn't been proven wrong.

  Actors, athletes, regular people and even other psychologists with their own problems, all came to see me.

  And who could blame them?

  I could talk anyone off of a ledge and depression didn’t stand a chance against my words and my methods.

  It was all about mind manipulation and getting others to see things about themselves that were there the whole time.

  I cured years of depression in just a matter of months.

  I was just that good.

  Well, some patients needed a little longer than that, depending on the issue.

  But the point of the matter is that I always got the job done.

  And I was always striving to be better.

  Some would say that I was consumed with work.

  They were probably right.

  Some even said that I seemed to be a little obsessed with my patients. And maybe I was, but I was fine with that.

  Joel complained so much about my job, but I’d learned to ignore him. He hated that I worked so much but sometimes an eight-hour work day just wasn’t long enough.

  I had some big shoes to fill, and I didn’t plan on letting anyone down, anytime soon. Everyone wanted to know my secret. But my secret wasn’t really that big of a secret at all. My secret to success rested on one simple fact: I was a good listener.

  My mother always told me that the key to any good therapist, counselor, or psychologist in my case, was to master the skill of listening. Hearing the patient’s problems was one thing. But actually listening to them was another.

  Most therapist would say that they had this skill, but truth be told they didn’t.

  It took patience. It took practice.

  I didn’t listen to diagnosis them. I didn’t listen to give them an answer that I’d learned in school or in a textbook. I didn’t listen to have an expert, professional response that was going to make them feel like they were getting a whole lot of bang for their bucks.

  No.

  I actually listened to hear them.

  I heard every single detail, and every single word that they said; whether they said it out of their mouths or with their bodies instead. I worked overtime to find the root of the problem so that I could address it, get to know it, and then get rid of it. And needless to say, my mother’s tip had been absolutely right, and it had brought me more success in my career than I’d ever imagined.

  Whether it was matters of the mind or matters of the heart, I could fix it. I could fix anyone.

  Arriving at work, I looked around.

  I was still curious as to who had been lurking in the shadows the night before.

  “Good Morning Hannah. Your eight-thirty is already here,” my assistant and one of my closest friends, Summer, greeted me.

  Summer had been working for me for the past few years. She had been searching for a job for a while when she’d come my way, but immediately we connected and despite some trouble in her past, she had been doing an amazing job. I depended on her for so much, and she always delivered. She was also reliable, honest, and she just made everything easier.

  But her great work ethic wasn’t the only good thing about her.

  Summer had the personality to die for. She was fun, single and every bit of sexy. She was like a happily ever after, and a “to be continued” all rolled up into one.

  The best of both worlds.

  And I was proud to say that she was also my friend.

  “Okay, give me ten minutes and then send her in. Oh and send out a mass e-mail and put the security guard suggestion back on the table. I think it would be a really good investment.”

  I shared an office space with four other licensed psychologists, all specializing in different areas.

  But I didn’t limit myself. I tackled everything. You couldn’t be the best with limitations.

  Moments later, I took a deep breath, placed on a painted smile and I headed to my office door to greet my first client of the day. After talking with her for only a few minutes, the conversation went in an unexpected direction.

  “Dr. Lewis, I just want to say thank you. You’ve helped me get my life back, and I couldn’t thank you enough. Words can’t express how much I appreciate you. But I came here today to tell you that I don’t need you anymore.”

  I smiled.

  I never rushed a patient to heal.

  I allowed them all to leave when they were ready.

  No matter how many folks were on my waiting list, and no matter if I felt that they no longer needed my services.

  I never suggested to them to stop coming.

  I’d learned to trust the process, and so far, so good.

  My patient, Mrs. Whiteside, didn’t bother to stay for the remainder of her session.

  After a few more minutes of conversation, we said our final goodbyes.

  I’d never had a patient return to therapy, ever, so I was sure that this was the last time that I would see her inside of my office.

  She was healed.

  Another job well done Hannah.

  “Summer, can you bring in the list of people waiting for me to have an opening? One just became available; for three days a week. And I need you to clear Mrs. Whiteside from my calendar. She won’t be coming back anymore. Archive her file under the Depression folder. Thanks.”

  I internally praised myself and I smiled as I talked to parents from my heart, all the way up to Heaven.

  My mother died from breast cancer. Amazingly, she’d saved hundreds of marriages, so many people, but in the end, she hadn't been able to save herself. Soon after her death, my father died from cancer as well. Lung cancer caused from his years of smoking. I swore that I would never pick up a cigarette or such a bad habit, but here lately, I couldn’t seem to keep my hands off of them.

  But the sudden reminder caused me to vow that I wouldn’t end up the same way that he had. Neither of them had been gone all that long, but I missed their presence more than I could put into words.

  Every memory that I had of them was a good, positive one, and I was so thankful to have such great role models to mold me into the person that I was today.

  Coming to, I noticed that Summer hadn’t made it in with the list yet. Just as I was about to give her a buzz, she stormed into my office, but she wasn’t alone.

  “I’m sorry Mrs. Lewis, I tried to stop him,” Summer said in frustration.

  Her cheeks were a rosy red as she looked at the impeccably dressed man with displeasure.

  “It’s okay, do you have the list?”

  She reached it to me.

  I glanced again at the silent stranger and nodded Summer in the direction of the door.

  Once she closed it, I spoke to him.

  “How can I help you?”

  I motioned for him to take a seat.

  I had about forty-five minutes to spare before my next patient was scheduled to arrive and I figured that if he’d felt the need to burst into my office, unannounced, then it must be important. Without answering my question, he took a seat in front of me.

  His silence was strange, overbearing, and it seemed to make the room feel small. I studied him.

  Just from his body language, I could sense that he was tensed or unsure. I could also tell that he was uptight; which probably meant that he held things in until he was about to explode.

  He was nervous. And he was in some kind of pain.

  Yet, instead of looking down, or looking away, he looked firmly, directly into my eyes; which told me tha
t he was bold, daring and maybe even a bit troubled.

  And maybe he liked it. I opened my mouth to repeat my question, but he spoke instead.

  “I need your help.”

  Of course, he did.

  Why else would he be here if he didn’t?

  He had my full attention.

  I listened to his breathing pattern.

  I even listened to the tapping of his nervous foot.

  “How can I help you?”

  He stared at me a little while longer and then he stood up once his phone started to ring.

  Instead of answering my question, he pulled out his wallet and sat a card on my desk.

  “I need your help,” he repeated and with that he turned his back to me, answered his phone, and headed out of my office.

  I was unsure of what to think of his performance.

  I hated to look at my patients or future patients like they were projects, but he was definitely a person that I wanted to have as a patient so that I could pick his brain apart and see what was going on with him.

  I could tell that he wouldn’t be an easy fix.

  But I was always up for a challenge.

  I grabbed the card and headed for Summer.

  I guess now I knew who I was going to give that open spot to.

  ~***~

  “Still no answer?”

  “Nope.”

  Summer joined me in my office.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing. Why do you think something is wrong with me?”

  “Lately, you have seemed different. Who is he?”

  “What? I wish. Trust me the minute that I find a man, I’m parading him around all over the place. There’s no special guy; just some family things going on lately.”

  I was surprised to hear Summer mention her family.

  We had been well acquainted for years now, and I’d never even met them. She said that they’d moved out of town a few years ago and that she wasn’t exactly their favorite child out of the bunch.

  She’d said that after years of disappointing them, they somewhat washed their hands with her and kept a good bit of distance.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  “Uh, no ma’am. I do not. It’s nothing really. Nothing that I can’t take care of. Do you want to go out for lunch today? Or do you want to order in?”

  “Neither, I brought a sandwich. I’m going to work through lunch today.”

  She shook her head.

  “All work and no play…”

  “Makes me the best at what I do,” I said finishing her sentence.

  “Yeah, tell us something we don’t know already,” she said sarcastically and shut the door behind her.

  Actually, I had to work through lunch because I had to go to a work function with Joel that night so I couldn’t stay at work late. It was also our ten-year wedding anniversary, but he had yet to mention it. I kept waiting for the phone to ring, or a surprise delivery of flowers, but nothing ever came. My guess was that he’d probably forgotten, and I wasn’t going to remind him. People only forget what isn’t important to them, and I was sure that he’d added me to his list of unimportant things a long time ago.

  At least that’s how he made me feel.

  I finished all of the work and notes that I could and for the first time in months, I left the office at the same time that everyone else did.

  Joel walked past the bathroom door, quickly glanced at me, but hurriedly tried to act as though he hadn’t noticed my naked frame as I got ready for his event later on that evening.

  “Your phone is ringing.”

  I covered my breasts as though he wasn’t supposed to see them and I came out of the bathroom and headed towards the dresser.

  The number was unavailable, private, but I answered it anyway.

  I always answered it.

  In the case of an emergency, I’d given a few of my patients my personal phone number.

  Some needed a little more help than others and depending on what they were dealing with; I felt that they might need to get in contact with me as soon as possible, instead of waiting for me to get their messages the next business day.

  Joel hated that I brought work home with me, but I didn’t care.

  Something could go extremely wrong after hours and just in case, I had to be available.

  “Hello?”

  I waited on them to say something, but no one said a word. Instead, at the sound of my voice, they simply hung up. Maybe it was a wrong number.

  I waited to see if they would call back and when they didn’t I concluded that it couldn’t have been a patient or anything important. I finished getting dressed as Joel stood and stared at me the entire time.

  “Happy anniversary,” he finally said.

  He remembered.

  Slowly, he walked over to me and hesitantly wrapped his arms around my waist. I shivered at his touched and even managed to smile. Joel’s touch used to make me weak, but at the moment I just felt uncomfortable and confused.

  It was as though another man had put his hands on me, which hadn't happened in years since I’d never stepped outside of our marriage.

  Even when he deserved it.

  At this point, Joel had been working for a few weeks.

  We still weren’t back to being “normal” and though we still hadn't had sex or anything, I could see that he was at least attempting to act like a husband again.

  “Thanks for coming with me tonight. I know I haven’t exactly been supportive of you lately.”

  “No problem.”

  At least we were actually spending our anniversary together and speaking this year.

  Last year on this day he’d sent me a text message, and that was it. I stayed at work and by the time I came home he was asleep. I’d tried to treat him to a vacation but of course, he’d refused because I would be the one paying for it.

  I even suggested that we used or savings, which was a mixture of both of our money that we’d been putting away for years for our retirement, but he refused.

  He wouldn’t even touch it.

  Joel was a thriving CEO, and I was in the midst of my education and pursuing my career when we’d first met.

  We were both hungry for success, but we managed to fall in love in spite of us both being so career driven and focused.

  I married him without a single doubt in my mind that he was the one.

  My gut told me that we had what it takes to make it to the end. And no matter how big of a jerk he was, I still loved him even when I didn’t want to. He sat on the bed and let me finished getting dressed. Finally making it out of the house, we headed to Joel’s job.

  I hadn't had the time to go by there as of yet, so this would be my first time seeing the building and meeting any of his co-workers.

  “Please try not to play any mind games tonight and try not to bring awareness to any issues that they don’t even know that they have yet,” Joel said as he helped me out of the car.

  “I’ll try,” I smirked as we headed in.

  My phone started to vibrate in my purse, but this time, I didn’t answer it.

  I didn’t want Joel to get upset or as though my work was getting in the way as always.

  That’s if it was even work related.

  I wanted to at least appear fully present for the occasion and supportive, although he hadn't supported me not too long ago.

  I smiled until it stopped vibrating.

  I made a mental note to take a trip to the bathroom soon so that I could check it.

  “Come on let me introduce you to my boss.”

  Joel led the way and after lightly tapping the gentleman in a striking gray, Armani suit on his shoulder, he turned around.

  My mouth dropped open, but I coughed to hide my surprise.

  It was him.

  It was the man that had burst into my office, demanding my help, only to not return a single one of my assistant’s phone calls or messages.

  I’d just had her
give him a call that day as a matter of fact, even though the spot had already been filled.

  It had been weeks since he’d come by, requesting therapy, and after various attempts of trying to contact him, I could only assume that he changed his mind.

  I tried to recall the information on the business card and I was sure that it wasn’t the same company information as the company that my husband worked for.

  I would have noticed.

  Maybe it was an old card or something.

  “Mr. Griffin, this is my wife, Hannah,” Joel introduced us and he shook my hand.

  “Nice to meet you,” he replied as though he’d never even seen me before.

  “Your husband has a bright future here with Visual-XXX Incorporated. You should be very proud of him. I have to watch out for him myself. He’s good enough to take my job,” Mr. Griffin chuckled and then he and my husband started up a conversation as I wandered off.

  From a distance, I stared at them.

  More so, I stared at Mr. Griffin.

  Something wasn’t right about him, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

  Everything about him screamed trouble.

  And I was sure that he was tons of it.

  But the doctor in me wanted to know more about him.

  I found myself keeping an eye on him for the rest of the night, trying to figure him out from afar.

  Was barging into my office was a coincidence?

  Or had he known all along that Joel was my husband?

  Considering the fact that he acted as though we’d never met, something told me that he had.

  I caught him glancing at me, sneakily, over and over again. But when I tried to force him to allow me to look into his eyes, he always looked in another direction.

  He was hiding something.

  I couldn’t wait to leave so that I could ask Joel more about him.

  “Did you tell your boss that I was a psychologist, prior to today?” I asked Joel on the way home.

  “Uh, maybe I mentioned it a time or two. Why?”

  “Because he came to my office; once. He’d said that he needed help, but he never returned the messages that were left for him to set up an appointment. And then tonight he acted as though we’d never met,” I said.

  “Well, can you blame him? Not everyone is as comfortable with needing therapy or counseling as you would like them to be. He’s a very successful man, in charge of running a very successful company, so I doubt that he wants me or anyone else to know that he needs a therapist.”

 

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