The Smallest Parallel

Chapter 12

Because Marguerite's story is getting quite convoluted, I've decided to give you a sort of break and the false sense of security that comes with such. Let's rewind and go over Geoffrey's three days in between meetings with Marguerite.     

            After reading his father's letter, Geoffrey called his therapist. Geoffrey's therapist was a middle-aged man by the name of Everette Reynolds. Dr. Reynolds, while completely competent and highly reviewed, was heavily armed with clichés. For every issue that Geoffrey arrived with, his therapist could always offer an inspirational quote and an eager smile. It is true that Geoffrey was the patient, yet he couldn't help but feel sympathetic for Dr. Reynolds and wonder what exactly made his eyes look as tired as they were and what force kept him going each day.

            Geoffrey sat on the floor of his kitchen cradling his phone between his shoulder and his cheek and reaching carefully into a bag of vegan bean chips that Maggie had left behind. He explained his situation to the best of his ability while also leaving out the points that he deemed inappropriate, such as the fact that he had stolen Marguerite's journal earlier that day. He also decided to omit that brief conversation with Marguerite as it didn't seem entirely relevant to what they were talking about.

            "So you saw your mother," his therapist repeated back to him. "How did this encounter make you feel, Geoffrey?"

            Geoffrey considered the letter from his father that rested on the counter, unmoved. He thought of Miriam's cold hands on his shoulders and her grey eyes fixed on his face. 

            "I felt as if I were being haunted. I felt as if this buried part of myself was being forcefully excavated and I was paralyzed."

            Geoffrey could almost hear Dr. Reynolds thinking as the silence filled the phone line between them. Maybe Geoffrey shouldn't have been so metaphorical. He didn't understand how his words sometimes got away from him.

            "Geoffrey, I think that you're afraid to listen to what your mother has to say. I think that you fear her words because she is the one person you've sought approval and love from your entire life. You don't want to open yourself to her because she's never made you feel valid. But, Geoffrey, you are valid. Are you reading the book I recommended?"

            Geoffrey considered the new book that sat on the shelf in the living room. Dr. Reynolds had been frustrated during Geoffrey's last visit because Geoffrey had regressed, and he was obsessing over Marguerite again. That day, therapy had only lasted thirty minutes, and Dr. Reynolds had handed Geoffrey a slip of paper before he left. Now Geoffrey had an unopened copy of a book entitled Overcoming Your Personal Demons.

            "I really believe that you are the hindrance to your own success," Dr. Reynolds said, bringing Geoffrey back to their current conversation. "I believe that if you would quit comparing yourself to literary characters like Holden Caulfield and begin looking within yourself and viewing your life within its own context, you'd find much more enjoyment."

            Dr. Reynolds was always saying things like that. Perhaps that was why Maggie had recommended him.

            When they had finished their phone conversation, Geoffrey's outlook on life hadn't changed much, but he did have the newfound belief that Dr. Reynolds wasn't a happy man, despite the façade he put up.

            Geoffrey went to bed early that night. He didn't want to pace the apartment, thinking of his father, his mother, and Marguerite, so he downed two melatonin and slept the most peaceful sleep he'd had in years.

            The next two days passed in a blur. Geoffrey called in sick to work on that Friday, and it had felt oddly freeing. It was like a secret rebellion of sorts. Geoffrey pictured himself as a con artist while on the phone to his boss, and the idea excited him greatly. Perhaps Dr. Reynolds had been right in some respects. During that last brief visit, he had told Geoffrey that he used these small fantasies as a way to escape the fact that he didn't enjoy his life. Geoffrey didn't want to admit it, but he could understand Dr. Reynolds' sentiment.