“What kinds of tasks are on your list?”
“Mostly easy stuff like ‘take a new class’ and ‘volunteer.’ ” My cheeks heat as I think about the other, not-so-easy things, but I’m not ready to share those checklist items just yet.
“And how do you feel about your boss demanding this of you?” It’s amazing how she asks such a judgmental question in such a totally nonjudgmental manner. I need some lessons on how to do that.
“I mean, she didn’t exactly demand. She presented it as an opportunity for me to move from writing about relationship stuff to getting a column where I can write what I want.” The pillow is practically calling my name now. It’s perfectly shield sized.
“And do you agree with May and Natasha?”
“About what?”
“Do you think you’re a serial monogamist, that you have trouble being alone?”
Fuck it. I grab the pillow. Squeezing the throw tightly tomy chest, I take my time before answering. “I think all evidence of the last sixteen years would point to that being true. I’ve had one steady boyfriend after the other, ever since I was fourteen.” I do some quick math. “More than half my life.”
“Would you say you feel more comfortable when you are in a long-term relationship?”
“I guess that’s a fair statement.”
“And why do you think that is?”
“I was hoping you could tell me that.” I give her a cheeky grin, which she doesn’t return.
“You know me better than that, Lana.” She puts her notebook down on the side table next to her chair. “Why do you think you gravitate toward serious relationships? What’s the appeal of a commitment over dating casually or being single?”
I blow out a long breath. “I guess given the erratic comings and goings of my mother throughout my life, I’m probably looking for something steady and permanent, since those things were missing from my childhood.”
Dr. Lawson raises her eyebrows and tilts her head. “That sounds very reasonable.”
A harsh laugh puffs out of my chest. “That was a little too easy.”
“Why does it have to be hard?”
Well. She’s got me there.
“What’s so scary about being alone, Lana?” She sits back in her chair and folds her hands in her lap.
“I don’t know. It’s been so long since I’ve been alone, I haven’t really had a chance to think about it.” And I realizethe deeper truth of that. The last time I was “alone,” I was thirteen. So much in my life has changed since then, obviously, but I still have that ever-present desire for companionship. For a place or a person to call home.
“Do you want to accomplish the things on the list? Are they things you’re interested in? Feel comfortable with?”
“I thinkwantmight be a strong word, but I could see how some of them could be good for me.” I place the pillow back in its corner. “I actually already checked one off. I went on a blind date.”
“And how did it go?”
I laugh before chugging another long sip of water. “A little too well. I really liked him and we made plans to meet up again.”
She doesn’t say anything. She does that sometimes when she wants to push me to the conclusion on my own.
“Which, yes, I realize is a pretty strong indication that the whole serial-monogamist thing is totally true.”
“Okay. That’s good that you made that connection.” She picks up her notebook and pen again and jots down a few more notes. “How do you feel about completing the rest of the tasks?”
“Okay, I guess.” I shrug. “I’m pretty sure Seth—that’s the high school boyfriend—tried to sabotage me by setting me up with someone he knew I would like. It makes me feel more determined to prove to him that I can actually do this.”
“What would you say you want more, the chance to write this column or the opportunity to beat Seth?”
I wrangle my face into a smile, even though the question alone makes me uneasy. “Can’t it be both?”
