Part 12 (2/2)

He was just about finished, ready to go, already in his shorts and T-s.h.i.+rt, when someone knocked on his door. He answered, ”Yes,” wondering who was still in school at this hour. He thought it was probably one of the teachers working late, coming to discuss a student. This occasionally happened when he stuck around too long, but he knew how to deal with it. A few words, maybe a joke or two, and ”We'll talk it over tomorrow, at lunch or something.” He could be quite smooth when necessary.

The door opened, and so did Harold Goldman's mouth when he saw his visitor. ”Oh, Mrs. Sims,” he reacted, unable to contain his surprise. ”Please, come in, take a seat.” Harold Goldman had met Evelyn Sims only once, at a family conference about Paul. He sensed then, as he did now, that she was a deeply troubled woman.

Evelyn anxiously sat herself down. By the look on her face, Harold Goldman knew that his run was cancelled.

There was a brief moment of silence before Evelyn said, ”I'm sorry to have barged in on you like this.”

”Oh no, it's quite all right. What can I do for you?”

”I'm not sure, really. I just... I've been feeling like I need to talk about things.”

Goldman looked at her curiously. She seemed different from when he had last seen her, and very much unlike the person Paul had described. But it was always this way in Harold Goldman's business, people ended up being other than expected. He wasn't surprised.

”It sounds like you're not certain why you're here, but you feel you should be,” Goldman observed.

”I suppose that's it.” Tentative.

”Well, what are these 'things' you want to talk about.”

”I don't really know. I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have come,” she said more definitively, rising from her chair.

”Wait, please sit.” He indicated the chair.

She complied.

”I know this is hard for you, but if there's any way I can be of help, I'd like to.”

She looked directly into his eyes. ”You know, I'm not as terrible as you probably think I am,” she said sadly, her hands trembling.

”I don't think...”

”Please, don't lie to me, Doctor Goldman. I'm not a stupid woman. I won't be placated.”

Goldman kept silent.

”I just want to explain things; I need to explain things.”

”Do you feel it's your fault that Paul left?” Goldman asked.

”Of course it's my fault! Everything is my fault! I'm the boy's mother after all, whose fault could it be?”

Goldman was taken aback. ”I guess you could say that, but there are other ways to look at it.”

”I'm a very unhappy woman; I suppose you already know that.” Tears were forming in her eyes.

Goldman nodded.

”I know that's a poor excuse, but it's the only one I have.”

”Maybe it's not as 'poor' as you think.”

Evelyn thought about that. ”My husband,” she began, then hesitated. She wasn't sure how far she should go with this man, this stranger who knew so much, yet so little, about her life. ”My husband cheats on me,” she said, not completely aware if the words had really come out. She'd suspected for years, but had never voiced it.

”You're certain?” he asked sympathetically.

”Certain,” Evelyn reflected, ”that's a funny word. I suppose I'm not exactly 'certain,' but I'm pretty d.a.m.n close. Call it-intuition.”

”Based on?”

”Based on years of knowing the man I live with.” She became pensive again. ”It started in the beginning of our marriage, maybe even earlier. He was in the war and all, and I guess it did something to his head. Or maybe it was his mother; she's something else. I'm no expert like you, but I've heard that war and crazy mothers can screw up a man's head.”

”They most certainly can,” Goldman said with a faint smile. He didn't want to interject too much; he wanted her to tell her story.

”Well, we had what I suppose was a normal s.e.x life, at least in the beginning, but after a while, it happened less often. It wasn't long before he lost interest. I thought he was impotent; at least that's what I wanted to believe. I guess I just couldn't accept that he didn't want me anymore. He started coming home late in the evenings, working on weekends, and things like that. A typical scenario, I know, but I was too stupid-or stubborn-to see it.” Evelyn removed a tissue from her bag and dried her eyes. ”You're the first person I've ever told this to.”

”It's a difficult thing to admit, even to yourself.”

”Yes, I suppose it is.”

”Tell me, Mrs. Sims...”

”Please, call me Evelyn. After what I've told you, I think it should be okay to call me Evelyn.”

”Yes, of course. Well, what I was going to ask-and I don't intend to be callous-but what I wanted to know is why you've come to see me? Why am I the one you chose to reveal this to?”

”That's a good question. I guess it's because I needed for you to know that there was another side to the story, that I wasn't simply a monstrous mother who tortured her son. I've had a horrible marriage, I've felt worthless, dejected, and things that I cannot even find words to describe. I was desperate, I was-I am-miserable, and I took all of it out on Paul. I know that. I was unfair to him,” she said, sobbing, ”and now I'm paying for it.”

”Paying?”

”I've lost him, haven't I?”

”Again, you might say that, but there are other ways to look at that too.”

”Like how?”

”Like, perhaps you weren't as 'monstrous' as you think, and perhaps you haven't lost Paul at all. You can still build a relations.h.i.+p with him.” Goldman waited for a response, but there was none. ”Look Evelyn,” he said, leaning toward her, ”Paul has his problems, but he also has some things going for him. First, he's smart, smarter than most kids his age, and when he's interested in something, like Judaism, he really gets focused. He's basically a good kid; he's not into drugs, crazy music, or breaking the law. I'd say, on the balance, you didn't do too badly.”

She considered his words. ”Yes, you do have a point, Doctor Goldman, but it's hard for a mother to look at things that way-'on the balance,' as you say.”

”It is hard, I concede, but it's the truth. Just as it's important for you to give me a complete picture of yourself, it is helpful to have a complete picture of Paul. You only see your disappointments, and because of that, you blame yourself. You're making the same mistake with Paul that he makes with you.”

”Perhaps.”

Goldman would have preferred a more affirmative response, but this was a start.

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