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Authors: Patricia Chatman,P Ann Chatman,A Chatman Chatman,Walker Chatman

BOOK: Knowing Is Not Enough
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Unbeknownst to Tobey she would be my latest
diversion from my thoughts. From across the valet, through two glass doors, I saw Tobey waiting in the main lobby, dressed in scrubs and thinner since the last time we were together. She waved me over. “This is a nice unexpected surprise,” Tobey said. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing.” I embraced her. “Just in the neighborhood, decided to check out my long-lost friend.”

Tobey and I walked inside the cafeteria and grabbed a table in the back. “How long do you have?”

“Ten minutes or so,” she said. “I’m not officially on break. I told ‘em I’d be back in a few minutes.”

“What area are you working in today?”

“Pediatrics.”

“Oh, girl.” I placed my hand on my chest. “I don’t see how you do it.”

“Everybody says that,” she said. “Babies get sick, too.”

“I know, but it’s so heartbreaking to see a baby sick. Let’s change subjects. Tell me about you and Hunter.”

She smiled. “I never dreamed we would hit it off. He didn’t seem like my type.”

“Type? I didn’t know you had one.” I grinned at her.

“I’m just saying he’s not like the guys I usually go for,” she said.

“Maybe that’s why we’re still single.”

Tobey crossed her arms and sat back in her chair. “You know what, please don’t take this the wrong way, but why are you here?”

A little taken aback, I asked, “How could I possibly take that the wrong way?”

“No, I don’t mean it like that, but you’ve never come to see me at work before.” Her voice was filled with concern. “Is everything okay? Are you missing your
friend?”

Her concern for me was enough to open the floodgates. I didn’t dare give myself permission to act on the impulse. Even I was sick of playing the role of the victim.
Time to board a new train
.

“More than I’m willing to admit, but I’m fine—I
will
be fine,” I said, tapping her arm. “Don’t worry so much.”

“Okay, then. For a second there I thought you wanted to tell me you’d slept with him.”

I thought I was going to choke. “Oh, you got to be kidding me? Who told you?”

“Don’t be mad. It was Hunter.”

“How did
Hunter
find out?”

“Sanford told him you’ve been hanging out. They’re friends, remember?”

I sat back. “How is this ring of gossipers expanding?”

“I already knew something was going on when he didn’t come out with us. You are so sneaky—you lied to me.”

“I don’t remember what I said, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t lie.”

“You did lie,” she pointed out, but she was laughing. “You said he just decided not to come.”

“I didn’t say that. I said he had something else to do and I didn’t lie he did have something else to do—go home.” My laughter coincided with the sound of my cellphone ringing. I pulled it from my purse and raised my finger at Tobey to pause the conversation. Before I answered, Tobey offered, “I think Sanford really cares about you.”

The voice on the other end said, “Who cares about
you?”

“What?” I asked. “Who is this?”

“You never called, so I decided to call you.”

“Jake?”

The announcement of his name sucked the air out of the room. Tobey grabbed her chest to delay an imaginary heart attack. I hadn’t told her it wasn’t our first time talking in recent weeks. I don’t think I’d told anyone other than Linda.

“Yeah, who else would it be?” he asked.

Ignoring Tobey’s arm-waving to get my attention, I responded to Jake. “It’s not as if we talk every day.”

He paused. “I guess that’s true. I’m calling on official business. My mother said you never called.”

I hit my forehead. “Dang it, I’m so sorry I completely forgot.”

The entire time we were talking, Tobey was tapping the table, impatiently awaiting information. Jake continued rambling about me not calling his mother. “I told her you would call this week. You will, won’t you?”

I put up a finger to Tobey for her to give me one minute then jumped back into the conversation with Jake. “Yes, absolutely—I promise.”

“Okay—how are you?”

“I’m fine.”

Tobey looked at her watch. We’d been sitting there for some time now. She pointed toward the elevators, rose from her chair and put her hand to her ear motioning for me to call her.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I was in the middle of something. I’m done, and fine. Thank you.”

“Did you give any more thought to selling the house?”

“Not really, why?”

“You said you might sell.”

“That was a long time ago. You’re making an offer? It’s a little late for you to get it in the divorce.”

He laughed. “No—I don’t even know why I brought it up. Really, I’m not interested in the house.”

I got up, walked to the counter and purchased a cup of coffee while listening to Jake go on about me selling or not selling the house. With my phone firmly planted between my ear and shoulder, I walked through the main lobby past the elevators and where Tobey stood.
She hadn’t made it far
. I mouthed
wait a minute
to her before she got on the elevator. Tobey let the other occupants to go ahead, while I caught up to her.

“So, are you going to make an offer?” I asked Jake.

“No, I think we’re going to keep looking.”
We’re
going to keep looking?

My stomach tightened.

“What’s wrong?” Tobey asked.

I mouthed the name at her. “Taylor.”

We ended our adjoined disgust just in time for Tobey to catch the next elevator to her floor. I went through the revolving doors, no longer interested in a word Jake had to say. I wanted to end the conversation before Jake said something to take me over the emotional edge. “Well, I hope you find something. When are you trying to move?”

“Next spring. It’s getting too much for Mama to live by herself. I promised I would find something soon.”

I laughed. “Oh, you’re moving in with your mother?”

“She’s moving in with me,” he corrected me. “She
wanted to talk to you herself. She’s having some health issues.”

I finally reached my car through the parking garage. It was getting hard to hear Jake with the echo. “Jake, I’m sorry, but I have got to get off this phone. I’m here at the hospital and you’re going in and out.”

“Hospital? Who’s in the hospital?”

“No, nobody’s in the hospital. Remember, Tobey is a nurse? She works at St. Mary’s. We just met for coffee.”

“Oh, okay . . . you scared me for a minute.”

I put the coffee cup on top of my car to unlock the door. “No need. Everybody’s fine.”

“Okay, well—don’t forget to call Mom.”

“I won’t. I promise I’ll call her by the end of the week.”

“Okay, good enough. Hopefully I’ll get a chance to see you again.”

What?
“Yeah, that would be nice.”

“All right, I’ll catch up with you later.”

I got in and headed out of the garage, and my phone rang again. Tobey.

Before I answered a brown stream ran down my window. The coffee . . . I’d forgotten it on the roof. I answered the phone.

“Are you still talking to him? What did he want?”

“Well, you're going to be mad at me for not telling you, but this is the second time I’ve talked to him. I saw him last Friday before we went out. He wants me to go see his mother. That’s another reason why I ran late, he came by the office.”

“He’s using his mother as an excuse.”

“There’s no mystery here Scooby Doo—he wants me
to call his mother, and I will as soon as I get a chance.”

“Oh, so you really think that’s why he came over?”

“I’m not giving those seeds any water. Its why, and he called to remind me. You don’t have to be concerned. Jake can’t hurt me anymore.”

“Yes,” she said. “He can.

I loathe the silent treatment, especially when I’m not sure if I’m getting or giving it. I would have bet my last dollar Sanford would’ve called me by now.

My day is broken up into four acts—morning ritual, work, after work and bedtime. The clock of discontent ticks really slowly, particularly when it’s self-inflicted. I made a snap decision that I wasn’t ready to live with. I need to find out if it’s retractable.

I arrived at work where a note was placed on my computer screen reminding me to call Ms. Thomas. From behind my desk, I stared blankly at my calendar desperately trying to recall the last time we talked. In the big scheme of things I guess it doesn’t really matter, but I was curious. Regurgitated memory after memory yielded no rift, just disconnection. I’m sure there is meaningful, yet complicated reason, which made perfect sense, but doesn’t hold up under the lens of time. I did recollect wanting to make a clean break, not only from her, but everybody.
She was an unfortunate causality of war
.

Karen and I were humming right along with our day. There was Ms. Thomas, and then there was Sanford. The more I tried to stop thinking about him, the more I did.
This isn’t me. I don’t continuous fixate on anybody. Well, I guess I can’t say that anymore. I’m obsessing over him, and I want to stop, but how? I guess if there is an up to my preoccupation it will end soon. It has to
.

“Alex, Mr. Johnson is here to see you.”

“Okay, send him in.”

Mr. Johnson walked in my office and he didn’t look like the same man I’d been counseling.
Something is clearly different and I don’t think it’s anything to do with our sessions
.

“Hello, Dr. Nichols.”

“Hello Mr. Johnson, how have you been feeling since the last time we met?”

“I’ve been feeling great, things are much better—much, much better.”

I gestured for him to sit down. “How would you describe what you’re feeling?”

Mr. Johnson settled down into the counseling chair. He smiled and said, “I would say optimistic about the future.”

“Why do you feel optimistic?

“Let’s start with the bad stuff first. We haven’t gone to trial yet, but it’s getting closer. The prosecutor is still confident they can get a conviction. It’s pretty open-and-shut. I think they’ll convict. It’s just the time it’s taking to get started that’s what’s killing me.”

“Okay, things aren’t moving as quickly as you would like, but they’re moving. Is this movement what’s brought on feelings of optimism?”

“I’m happy about that, but it’s not the reason for the mood change.”

“Okay, please explain.”

Mr. Johnson leaned forward on the chair. “Remember my attorney, the one I told you about?”

“Yes, I think you said he was handling the civil suit.”

“That’s right, but I never said my attorney was a man.”

Surprised by his revelation I said, “Oh, I’m sorry you didn’t. Forgive me, I made an assumption, please continue.”

“I feel like I’ve been able to get back into life. Sheila, my attorney—well, my former attorney—helped me see that my life doesn’t have to end. I can find happiness again, because I’ve found happiness with her.”

“Okay, so fill in the blanks for me. How did all of this happen?”

“Shelia was introduced by a mutual friend. Of course I wasn’t looking for romance, just an attorney to take my case. Sheila was wonderful. She held my hand through the entire process.” Mr. Johnson stopped speaking and appeared to reflect on his own thoughts and words. He continued, “This past year I leaned on Shelia for support.”

“Can you describe what type of support?”

“Not legal—other stuff—emotional. I could talk to her and say what I wanted to say, feel what I wanted to feel without her judging or condemning me.” Mr. Johnson appeared to be reflecting on his own words again.

I interrupted him. “You were describing your feeling of optimism.”

“Yes, then one day we were out to dinner and I saw the most beautiful woman across from me.”

“At the table with you or across the room?”

“With me, definitely with me.” He smiled. “I don’t know if it was the ambiance of the restaurant or the wine, but for the first time when the candlelight hit her hazel eyes, I felt as if I truly saw her. I know it sounds hokey, but it’s true.”

“So, just to make sure I understand . . . you’ve known each other for an extended period of time, but just recently started a romantic relationship?”

“Yes, it’s been just over two weeks since we started seeing each other.”

“Have you discussed your new relationship with your family?”

“It’s crazy. I feel like I’m in high school, but no, I haven’t. I plan to—just not yet.”

“Can you describe that feeling of being in high school?”

“Well of course—in high school everything was easy, or at least as an adult you believe it to be so. Boy meets girl, girl likes boy. I met my wife in college I never dated as an adult man. I could just yell from the roof tops.”

“I understand you’re excited. What do you want?”

“I’m not understanding you.” Mr. Johnson shifted back into the chair.

“I realize Sheila is not new to you, but in a sense she sort of is, because you have redefined your relationship. I just want you to think about keeping things at a manageable pace. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah it does, but doctor, the way I am feeling right now—I can’t promise anything.”

“What happened with Dr. Sorenson? Did you see him?”

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