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“Because of your wife, you mean?”
“No, well, that's part of it,” I said with a laugh. “But mostly it's because she's my neighbor. She's younger than me, and – ”
“How much younger?”
I sighed and leaned back in my seat. This was where the rubber met the road and I was suddenly terrified of admitting the truth of it all. I'd come this far, too far to turn back I told myself. I cleared my throat and forced myself to meet Dr. Miller's steady gaze.
“She's twenty-one,” I said. “She's been babysitting my kids for years now, and it just feels so weird. I feel so conflicted about it all because I'm so much older than she is. On one hand, she's this incredible young woman. On the other hand, she's so young, and my babysitter. How much of a damn cliché am I, Dr. Miller?”
A small smile played at the corners of his mouth, but I didn't see the faintest trace of judgment in his eyes, which surprised me, quite frankly.
“Does she make you happy, Marcus?” he asked me simply.
It seemed like such an odd question considering what I was dealing with, but I answered honestly, “Yes, she does actually,” I said. “The kids love her and she's great with them, she always has been. And for a while now, I’ve found myself thinking, ‘if only I could find someone like her’.”
“Why not her?” Dr. Miller asked me.
“What?”
“You said you'd like to find someone like her,” he said, his tone neutral. “Why not be with her instead of finding someone like her? It seems to me that the genuine article is always better.”
“Because of her age, for one thing,” I said. “I'm almost middle-aged, Dr. Miller. I've been married before, have two kids; she's just starting out in life. She doesn't need my baggage. I feel like I'd be holding her back, keeping her from really experiencing life at that age.”
“Isn't that up to her to decide?” he asked. “Why is it your place to decide what she wants and doesn't want? Shouldn't she have some say in the matter?”
“She should, yes,” I said. “I just don’t know if it should progress any farther than it has.”
“Would you like it to progress?” he asked. “Would you like to have more than just physical intimacy with her?”
I thought about it for only a second before answering, “Yes, I would,” I said softly. “I'd like to continue being with her.”
“Do you have feelings for Emma?” he asked. “Genuine feelings a
side from the physical nature of your relationship?”
This time, I had to stop and think. How in the hell did I feel about her? I'd kept shutting down any and all thoughts about dating her, about allowing myself to get emotionally involved with or attached to her. I'd never let myself go there because I knew it was a bad idea from the start. But as I sat in that chair across from Dr. Miller, I allowed myself to explore that possibility in my mind and in my heart really, for the first time. And the answer came to me quite simply.
“Yes, I think so,” I said. “I could see myself falling in love with her. She's an incredible and amazing woman.”
That last part was hard as hell to admit. Scary too. I wasn't ready for love, was I? I stared back at Dr. Miller and he seemed to read my mind.
“Marcus, perhaps it's time you opened yourself up to the possibility of falling in love with Emma,” he said. “If you're both happy and consenting, why not? She's already good with your kids, and she's the first woman you've spoken of in a positive way since Gina passed away. I think, maybe, it's time that you at least begin to allow for the possibility of finding your way back to love and a healthy relationship. And I think this Emma might actually be good for you.”
As I listened to him, I wanted to believe what he was saying. The one question that kept recurring in my head was stark and brutally honest – was I good for Emma?
It was a question I didn't have an answer for.
ooo000ooo
My shrink really had me thinking after I'd left my session with him. Could I fall in love with Emma? Would a relationship with her be okay? Would that just be a bad idea all around? Some women preferred to date older men, that wasn't completely out there or strange. But for some reason, dating someone who grew up next door, somebody who'd babysat for my kids felt wrong and a little bit dirty..
I picked up the kids from my mom's house, and when we pulled in the driveway, they were already asking for Emma. They were buzzing and excited about seeing her and getting her to play another board game with them.
“She has to work, you guys,” I said, helping them out of the car. “Maybe she'll stop by later. We'll just have to wait and see.”
I glanced over at her house and saw her father out front. He was standing on the porch, staring at me, arms crossed in front of him, a very stern and disapproving look on his face. Immediately, I began to wonder if he knew, or if he was still just trying to intimidate me, trying to keep me away from Emma. I waved, but he didn't wave back. The look on his face and the set of his body made me nervous, but there was nothing to be done about it at that moment. It was a bridge I'd have to cross eventually.
“Come on,” I said. “Let's get inside.”
