Queens Court Book II

Chapter 10

The next morning, Gabrielle entered her office and looked around, glad to be back. She immediately sat down and dove into work. She wasn't on YouTube or checking her social media pages. She was actually reading through files and taking notes. She had taken down the flower wreath that was hanging on the wall, then swept, mopped, and dusted. She'd found some nicer chairs, and an extra area rug in another unused office. It had definitely helped give her office a warmer feel, which would suffice until the new furniture she had ordered arrived. One thing she hadn't done was take down that expired cat calendar, and she didn't plan to. It gave the office character, and it was a conversation starter for all those who saw it. Gabrielle did, however, order a couple nice paintings to hang next to the calendar.

When her first patient for the day arrived, she was fully attentive. Unlike Keira, she usually did more talking than listening, but in the case with this patient, Deion Oliver, she didn't have a choice. Deion was talking a hundred miles a minute, and Gabrielle could barely get a word in edgewise.

"And at first, I thought it was me and something I was doing, but then I thought no, it can't be me or anything I'm doing, because I haven't done anything wrong, you know?"

"Well, it might—"

"So then I figured that it must be something else. If it's not me, then what is it? It's gotta be something, because she is always frustrated with me. Every single time we sit down to talk about something, it always starts off good, but just like clockwork, about halfway through the conversation, Sasha always gets an attitude, or gets frustrated and blows up."

"It might have something to do—"

"It's communication. The communication in our marriage is missing. It's completely non-existent. I just think—"

It was Gabrielle's turn to cut her off. "No, Mr. Oliver, it's not. But because you talk enough for three people, your wife probably can't even get a word in, and she gets frustrated, just like I am now!" Realizing her voice had risen with each word, Gabrielle relaxed and started counting backward from ten.

"What exactly are you saying, Doctor?" Deion took offense.

Four, three, two, one. Gabrielle finished her countdown and then spoke. "This is going to sound harsh, but you talk too much, and you don't listen enough. That's why your wife gets mad when you sit down to talk about important family issues. Communication involves talking and listening, Mr. Oliver. You got the talking part down. Now you need to work on your listening."

A lightbulb went off in Gabrielle's head. Perhaps the message she'd just spoken to Deion had actually been for her. Like they say: The message is always for the messenger first.

Deion looked as though he was accepting of what Gabrielle had just said to him, which was the truth, and now he was willing to do something about it. "Well, what do you suggest?"

"You see what you just did? You asked me a question and waited for my answer. Do that with your wife. Let her finish what she is saying before you start talking again. And by you taking that position, she can follow suit and let you finish your statements before she starts. It's like dancing. A good conversation between two people is like a dance. Ballroom, or salsa: there's interaction, there's a rhythm and a flow. In your conversations with your wife, you're like a stripper." She cleared her throat. "You're the only one dancing."

Deion nodded. "I think I get the point."

"Good."

"But sometimes she'll sit and won't say anything, and I feel like I should say something."

"Let me let you in on a secret," Gabrielle said. "Give a woman a comfortable chair and a massage, and she can sit there for hours without saying a word. It doesn't mean that she is upset; it means she needs some peace and quiet. As women, we're just built that way. Give your wife her space sometimes, and she will thank you for it. And it will cut down on the arguments."