She closed her eyes, reaching for the truth. “Isn’t it obvious? If I like them, they will leave in one way or another.”
Micah set aside the paper that had their names written on it. “Like everyone else in your life.”
She opened her eyes. That thought felt toxic and sour. “Yes, Mr. Freud. Not exactly a breakthrough. If they get to know me, if I get to know them, they won’t stick around. No one ever does.”
“That is demonstrably untrue,” Micah said. “What about Bean and his father?”
“Come on. He’s a kid. And they live across the hall. My staff won’t know what to do with me if I come back like this, all free to be me. I am not currently the Lorna they know. I can’t waltz in and say, ‘Hey, everyone, welcome to my bomb shelter! I’ve opened the doors, so let’s order pizza!’”
Micah shifted onto his elbow. “Why can’t you say that?”
“Because they will leave. Or do something that means I have to leave. What are you not getting? I’m still not a likable person. Maybe I don’t hate myself, but that doesn’t mean others don’t hate me. I’m closed off, I can’t trust them, I second-guess everything.”
He tapped a finger to his lips for a moment. “Question: Have any of your neighbors left?”
“Of course not,” she said irritably. “They don’t have anywhere to go.”
“Sure they do. They may not want to, but any one of them could leave tomorrow to get away from you. And yet, they haven’t. You’ve had pizza with them. They volunteered with you. Are they giving off anI hate Lornavibe?”
“No,” she said slowly. Pizza in the backyard with them hadbeen one of the better days of her adult life. “But they don’t really know me or understand me.”
“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “But if you really believe that, you should help them know you. If your theory is that anyone who really knows you will not like you and will leave, then test it.”
She frowned. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“You could start by telling them the truth. That you intend to buy the house and why.”
Lorna glared at him. “I am obviously not going to tell them that. They would really hate me then. Even Bean might hate me, and I couldn’t bear that. Also, Micah, you are ruining the good vibe I had from my sound bath earlier.”
Micah smiled a little. “I told you you’d love it. Look, Lorna. This idea that you are unlikable, unlovable, is a narrative you’ve created. But it’s not true. Maybe you feel that way because you’ve been too afraid to let anyone close to you. You’ve been so sure history would repeat itself that you’ve locked yourself down. No admittance. And you’ve told yourself that no one is banging on the door because you are so unlikable. None of that is true. If you’re ever going to find peace, you need to rid yourself of the fear that whoever knows you will leave you. That’s letting the past rule you.”
She could feel the truth in that, but it felt too dangerous to let go of everything she’d clung to. “The past does rule me, Micah. The past shows me exactly what I can expect.” She popped up from the beanbag, annoyed with him without really understanding why. “I’m supposed to have my astrological chart read today. Can you buzz Montreal?”
“You’re kidding yourself,” Micah said calmly. “Just think about what I’m saying.” He stood up and hit the little button on his desk. “What do you have planned for this weekend?”
He asked in a manner that made Lorna think he didn’t really care but was looking for something to fill the awkward silenceuntil Montreal came. Lorna stared at her hand. “Actually, I’m paying a visit to someone who isreallygrieving. Someone who lost her daughter in a car accident.”
“How tragic,” Micah said sincerely. “Is this Mrs. Tracy from your list?”
This guy with the ribbons in his hair had a mind like a steel trap. “Yes, as a matter of fact.”
“Were you in the car?”
Where was Montreal? “No.” She glanced to the door. “But Kristen was. She escaped with some bruises, is all.”
“I’m curious why this woman is on your list if you weren’t involved.”
Lorna shook her head. Why was it so hard for her to explain it was all her fault? “No one should have been in the car. I could have stopped them, but I didn’t. Where is Montreal, anyway?”
“I knowyouknow that you can’t hold yourself responsible for the choices anyone made during that tragedy. You didn’t physically put anyone in a car, did you? You are not guilty by association.”
“Iknow,” she said irritably. But she didn’t know, not really. She thought her guilt by association was terribly damning.
“For what it’s worth, I understand your thinking. Grief is hard work,” he said sympathetically. “It’s true what they say—the only way out is through. If you’re going to visit the girl’s mother, just make sure you know what you need from that visit for your own grief work.”
“My grief work?” Her gaze snapped back to him. “Since when have I been doing grief work?”
“Since the moment you came into the program. You’ve been grieving your past and your family for a very long time.”
