The Tea Series Page 9

  She pointed out that I never really got closure with anything anymore. The whole thing with Jerkface and his sister just kind of went away.

  I claim that I’m interested in all things Bernie, but I haven’t done anything about it. If I really believe there is something there and that Bernie wanted me to snoop around in her life, then I need to do that. If there is a mystery and my mother doesn’t like that I’m snooping around, that is on Bernie and my mother as much as it is on me. Bernie knew my mother before I was born. They were really close. Bernie knew me too. She knew what she was doing when she left me an unexplained trunk with all kinds of really odd things in it. If she wasn’t trying to get me involved in a mystery, why did she do that? It’s pretty obvious that she intended all this stuff to come to me when I was an adult. She had to know I’d have the freedom to investigate if I chose to.

  And then there is the trunk itself. Am I really savoring each thing that I open? No! When is the last time I thought about the pictures or any of the other stuff? So I need to ask myself: if I’m not opening stuff because I want to savor it over a lifetime and I’m not savoring it, what is really going on? I need to be honest about that with myself and with everybody else.

  And if I really didn’t want to come to counseling, why did one little comment from Morgan get me here?

  And if I really am so O’Flynn-centric, then why am I allowing a few bad moments to ruin that for me?

  Vicky pointed out that there are happy people with difficult moments and there are difficult people with happy moments and it is up to each of us to determine which of those we want to be.

  I assured her I’d rather be a happy person with difficult moments. I’d been a happy person all my life. I like happy.

  At least we got a chuckle out of it.

  I’d overshot my allotted time, by a lot, and ate up most of her lunch hour too.

  We set another appointment for two weeks from now.

  She said I had some thinking to do before we got together again.

  As I was headed out the door, she made one final comment.

  “You know, Cara, you and your sister Teagan have been each other’s counselors for a long time. I’m not trying to talk myself out of a job here, but when is the last time you and your sister did what you and your sister do?”

  “It’s been a while.”

  “And why is that?”

  “We’ve been busy.”

  “You’ve never been busy before?”

  “I’ve got A.J., and she’s got Jessie, and we both have jobs, and we just haven’t made time for it.”

  “Are you sure that is what’s going on?”

  “Well, I was until you asked that question.”

  “With two people as close as you and your sister, I would be very suspicious that there is much more going on. You might want to think about that too.”

  “I should make a list.”

  “If that’s what works for you.” She held out a piece of paper and her favorite pen.

  “Okay. I’ve got it. You’re serious. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”

  “Call me if you need me before then.”

  “Really? Do you think I’m that screwed up?”

  “Overreact much, Cara?” Fortunately she had a brilliant smile on her face when she said it.

  “Only recently.”

  “We’ll work on that too.”

  “Great.”

  I wandered out to my car. About three steps away from it I made the commitment to myself to stop the wandering stuff and start walking with purpose like I used to. I never used to be bewildered. I never even thought about the word bewildered. I tried to think about the last time I thought about bewilderment. Nothing.

  I drove to Old Town and walked into the studio unannounced.

  It’s been a long time since I did that.

  Suzi was behind the counter downstairs, talking to a beautiful guy. One of those guys who doesn’t know how beautiful he is. I don’t mean handsome, I mean beautiful.

  As Suzi was walking him into the area that A.J. had set up for a shoot, the guy took his shirt off.

  I love A.J. — but damn!

  When Suzi came back to the counter she didn’t say a word; she grabbed my arm and all but pulled me up the stairs.

  “Damn!”

  “I know. He’s been here twice before. He’s trying to get a career going in modeling and acting and has decided that he is going to do a bunch of different shoots so that he can have a bunch of different looks. I guess that’s what they do and then put some kind of compilation together on a card with one perfect headshot. Or maybe that’s just what I’ve seen on TV.”

  “Really? Suze, you would think he’d do that all at once.”

  “He’s really into it. He’s done it with different color hair, different facial hair; he had the guys down at the tattoo shop draw on fake tattoos, and then they got pictures for free advertisement too. It’s been really involved.”

  “Okay, maybe I’m just stupid, but wouldn’t he do better in Hollywood, or New York, or just about anywhere other than Tampa Bay, Florida?”

  “Probably, but his grandma is sick, and he has been helping out with her. He got a hold of A.J. for the images after he saw images A.J. took at the hospital. He brought his grandma in for an MRI or something.”

  “You sure know a lot about him.”

  “We’ve talked a couple of times while we were waiting for A.J. to get things set up.”

  “A.J. didn’t have things set up? Really?”

  “I know. I think he is trying to set me up.”

  “Well, you owe him one. My goodness.”

  “Yeah, right, a guy like that? I’m pregnant.”

  “So?”

  “So, I don’t think any guy who would be interested in me while I was pregnant would be the kind of guy I would be interested in. There is just something creepy about that.”

  “No, there isn’t. Stop thinking like you were born in the fifties. I swear, people get around me for a while and start thinking like old women. I could give you a bunch of examples where that happened and everything turned out all right. Women have been known to start a new relationship while they are pregnant, Suze. Supermodels and singers. Actors and billionaires.”

  “Yeah, like that’s real life.”

  “Well, if I said Sam and Gina from down the street, you would never have heard of them, and you’d think I was making them up.”

  “True. Doesn’t matter anyway. He’s just a nice guy. His grandma will get better, he’ll be off to conquer the entertainment industry, and I’ll be able to say I saw that body before all the other women on the planet started to drool.”

  “Maybe…”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Promise?”

  “I’ve got enough going on, Suze. I’m trying to get my life in order. Then I’ll worry about yours.”

  “Well, that’s a nice change.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “How many times have you told me that your mother told you that you keep busy straightening out everyone else — literally and figuratively — so that you don’t have to take a look at your own life?”

  “A couple.”

  “A couple dozen?”

  “Maybe. What’s your point?”

  “Cara, I love you. You know that. I appreciate all that you do for me and everyone else, but once in a while, just once in a while, don’t you think you could put yourself first?”

  “Why is everybody saying things like that to me?”

  “Your mom always says that lessons just keep coming at you until you can’t hide from them anymore.”

  “Well, that isn’t exactly what she says, but it’s close enough. I’m still not sure what that means. What’s my lesson?”

  “I can’t help you with that. It’s your lesson. You have to figure it out. You’ve been telling me that since we became roommates. It drove me nuts.”

  “I hat
e it when my words, or my mother’s words, come back to haunt me.”

  “Better your mother’s words than my mother’s words. If my mother’s words were coming back to haunt you, they’d sound more like ‘Honey, go comb your hair and put a little liner on. Nobody wants to see you looking like that.’”

  “Really? You are the last person that needs makeup. Your face is perfect without it.”

  “Don’t be so literal. What I’m saying is that nothing I did was ever to my mother’s liking. Ever. That is my parenting experience, and it scares me to death. What am I going to do to mess up this baby?”

  “Well, all these years everybody thought that the O’Flynns were perfect, or maybe that was just me, but I’m beginning to think they aren’t.”

  “There is no they there. You are part of the O’Flynns, remember?”

  “Yeah, but I never considered myself to be perfect. I just thought I had this really perfect childhood and that my family was open and honest, and it turns out that we have about a million secrets and that there is a possibility that one or more of my siblings thinks I’m weird.”

  “Cara, everybody thinks you’re weird. There’s nothing wrong with weird.”

  “Excuse me while I go pout.”

  “Why does being different or not perfect have to be a bad thing? The O’Flynns aren’t strong because they are perfect. The O’Flynns are strong because they love each other in spite of, or maybe because of, their imperfections. Nobody is perfect, and you don’t have to be perfect to have a great relationship.”

  “I know that. That’s pretty basic.”

  “I know you know it, but do you really believe it?”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Cara, think about how hard you work to make everything perfect. Your house is always spotless.”

  “That’s just because I have a rather useful but minor case of OCD.”

  “You have this image in your head that your family is perfect.”

  “I’m finding out that isn’t true.”

  “Really? It took you this long?”

  “I don’t mean perfect. You know what I mean. I always figured that my family was all about family and that we were all on the same page and headed in the same basic direction. Now I’m beginning to wonder.”

  “So you thought the O’Flynns were all happy little lemmings?”

  “No. Not really. I didn’t think we were all headed for the cliff or anything. I thought we all shared the same basic world view.”

  “You do! That doesn’t mean there is no room for each of you to be individuals. I think maybe Barry kicked you harder than we thought. Cara, where is all this coming from? This doesn’t even sound like you.”

  “I think I’ve lost it. Lost me.”

  “Well, find you again. I like you. You’re a good person. You are — were — the most you anyone could ever be.”

  “I’m not sure what that means.”

  “It means you are a person who knows yourself and your place in the world, and you live in that place comfortably. You’ve never had to do stuff like everyone else. You’ve never had to follow a crowd or adjust your way of thinking. You never had to prove to the rest of the world who you are because you know who you are. Please tell me that Barry didn’t take that away from you.”

  “He didn’t.”

  “That isn’t very convincing, Cara.”

  “I’m just having a hard time right now.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Cara, if there’s one thing about you that bugs me, it’s that you never ask for help. You’re always willing to help anybody do anything, but you never let anyone help you.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Isn’t it? Cara, when’s the last time anyone who loves you was allowed to do anything for you? Other than when you weren’t physically able, thanks to my husband, when is the last time you allowed anyone to, say, clean the kitchen?”

  “You know about me and my kitchen.”

  “Fine, when is the last time you let anyone in your family help clean up after dinner at your mom’s house?”

  “They just don’t help. They like to sit around the table and wait for tea.”

  “That’s because anytime anyone has offered to help you’ve always said no. Everybody offered. For years. And you always said it would be faster if you just did it yourself. Same thing you did to me when we lived together. I could have done dishes. I could have done a lot of things, but you always pushed me out of the room and did it yourself.”

  “But I didn’t mind.”

  “That’s not the point. If you never let anyone help you or do something for you, then you’re always in the superior position.”

  “You have that backwards.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “You said that I’m always the one waiting on everyone but I’m in the superior position. How can you be the servant and the boss at the same time?”

  “Because you’re the one making that decision. You’re the one with the power. You’re the one who has everyone you know owing you one, no, owing you a million. If we write down everything you’ve done for me and everything you’ve allowed me to do for you, the stuff on your side of the ledger is going to be really long, and the stuff on my side is going to make me look stupid. You look like a hero. You know, Cara, some days it’s hard to deal with that. You have all the power, and you don’t share it at all.”

  “Really?”

  “Really!”

  “Well, that’s not good.”

  Mister Beautiful was making noise down by the counter. Suzi hurried off to see what he needed.

  I waited for a few minutes to see if A.J. would come upstairs. He didn’t.

  Probably didn’t even know I was there.

  I left and drove home.

  Home.

  It’s the most likely place I set myself to the side.

  First place I should look to find myself again.

  That’s what I want to do. Find myself.

  Right?

  I know it sounds stupid, but the first thing I did was take a shower and wash my hair. I also washed all the makeup off my face and used my little scrubber machine to make sure I’d gotten it all out of my pores as well. How did I ever allow myself to get to the place that I am worried about hair and makeup and clothes? That’s a Teagan thing, not a Cara thing.

  I blew my hair dry and grabbed my best citrusy smelly-good-stuff. Slathered it on. Put on one of my favorite peignoirs. It’s lavender, which is not my best color, but it is a beautiful set. Looks like something out of a nineteen forties’ movie. It is fitted and skinner satin and has a really intricate lace bodice with matching lace on the shoulders and wrists of the robe.

  Feeling more like myself than I’d felt in a really long time, I fixed myself a cup of tea and sat on the couch with paper and my favorite purple pen.

  I made a list of all the stuff that I’ve been doing but not completing. It was a depressingly long list.

  Once I got most of the stuff on that list, I started another.

  My mother always says that when you have a big problem you need to write it down and get it out of your head. While it’s in your head it just bounces around, and you can’t really think about it, but when you can see it all written down, you have a better chance of figuring out what is important, what is actionable, what you’re just being a doofus about, and what you need to do to get everything going again.

  Best way I’ve found to do that is to put the problem across the top of the page, usually written in bold letters scribbled over and over while I think about the next step; then I make a line down the middle of the page. Write what I can live with on one side of the page and what I can’t live with on the other. Rip the page down the line and put the stuff I can live with to the side. I might need it later to remind myself that I thought I could live with something that I later complain about.

  The stuff I can’t live with needs addressing.
>
  Is it something I have control over?

  Responsibility for?

  Can I change it?

  Can I change the way I look at it?

  I had so many things bouncing around in my head that I started off several pages.

  I printed BERNIE on one page.

  I printed BERNIE’S TRUNK on another.

  I printed BARRY on another page.

  On yet another I printed TEAGAN/JESSIE.

  About the time I wrote MAEVE on a sheet of paper I lost my temper with myself.

  What does any of that have to do with me?

  Do I have any vote in what happens between Teagan and Jessie?

  What is wrong with me these days?

  I ripped up all the pages and felt slightly better.

  I decided on a different approach.

  I called Vicky, my counselor. Me having a counselor, how wrong is that?

  SEVEN

  I HAD A great session with Vicky, at the end of which we agreed that I’m fine. I have no more problems than the average person. I’m spending too much time second-guessing myself and living inside my own head. I had a bad experience with Barry, but I don’t have PTSD or anything else. Some people who go through an experience like that end up with bigger challenges, but I was blessed not to.

  Thank you God.

  We decided that I should just relax, work on getting my life organized again, which will go a very long way to making me feel like me again, and stop trying to run the world, or at least my little part of it.

  There is nothing I can do about Maeve or Teagan or Sinead or anyone else. I can love them and be supportive of them and give them the respect to recognize that they are more than capable of running their own lives.

  I feel better already.

  I ran a couple of errands. I was throwing stuff in the back of the car when I noticed some things I had that belong to Adeline. I decided to stop at Adeline’s warehouse to drop that stuff off and grab a few things she asked me to find for her.

  She’s doing well in her loft, but all the work on the mansion is taking a lot longer than we thought it would, and she has decided that she is going to do some painting and relax a little before she heads off on her next adventure with the girls.