FAMILY FALLACIES (The Kate Huntington mystery series #3) (2 page)

Now, as Kate ate her
sandwich, she thought about the client she would be seeing next. Audrey
Spaulding had worked with Kate two years ago on issues related to verbal and
emotional abuse by both of her parents. Her father had also been physically
abusive when he had gone on one of his frequent drinking binges.

The old man, as Audrey
called him, had been sober for the last five years, but he was what Kate’s
colleagues in the addiction recovery field referred to as a “dry drunk.” He was
sober but had done nothing to understand or truly recover from his addiction.
Both he and his codependent wife were still very unhealthy people.

Kate was particularly
fond of Audrey. Astute and down-to-earth, she was the type of person who
assessed the problem, looked for a solution and then implemented it. Her
appearance reflected her personality. Clothing and hairstyle were chosen for
comfort and practicality, simple but neat.

Today, however, when
Kate went out to the waiting area after lunch to greet her, the young woman’s
jeans and cotton shirt were wrinkled and her short brown hair was tangled.
There were dark circles under her eyes, and she had lost weight that she could
ill afford to lose.

Kate struggled to hide
her alarm at the woman’s disheveled state as she ushered her into her office.
After a short exchange of pleasantries, Audrey showed that her personality
hadn’t changed even if her grooming had gone downhill. She immediately got down
to business.

“Here’s the problem.
Ted and I have decided it’s time to give Alicia a little brother or sister. But
ever since we started trying to get pregnant, I’ve developed less and less
interest in sex... And then about a month ago, I started having weird dreams. I
wake up, and can’t get back to sleep.”

“What are the dreams
about?” Kate asked.

“Well, the first ones
were all different kinds of situations where I felt threatened by something,
and I’d try to hide, but I’d have this feeling that whatever it was would still
find me... Then two weeks ago, I dreamt that somebody was trying to force
something down my throat. I woke up choking and sobbing. Totally freaked Ted
out.”

Audrey dropped her eyes
to her lap. “I’ve had that dream almost every night since then. It’s all a bit
shadowy. I can’t tell who it is... It’s like a big giant or monster, and I’m
real small by comparison.”

She looked up at Kate.
Desperation crept into her voice as she said, “Whatever’s going on, I just knew
I couldn’t face it by myself. I’m so glad you’re back.”

Choosing her words
carefully, Kate asked, “Audrey, when you were a child, did anyone ever physically
do anything to you or with you that made you uncomfortable?”

One side of Audrey’s
mouth quirked up in a half smile. “Come on, Kate. You don’t have to beat around
the bush with me. No, I don’t remember being sexually abused as a kid.”

Kate had a short debate
with herself. The symptoms Audrey had described certainly suggested the
possibility of sexual abuse. But these days, when therapists were being accused
of planting false memories in clients’ minds, it was dangerous to probe too
blatantly.

On the other hand, Kate
hated it when such considerations got in the way of doing good therapy. She
knew this woman. Audrey would not think that she was trying to influence her
memories.

“I wouldn’t normally
say this so bluntly with most clients, Audrey, but sexual abuse would explain
the problems you’re having. And there is such a thing as traumatic amnesia,
when an event is so upsetting that the person’s mind blocks it from normal
awareness. The memories are still in there somewhere, but the person can’t access
them.”

“Is that what you think
is going on with me?”

“I don’t know, but it’s
a possibility.” Kate knew that blocked memories, as they started to surface,
did sometimes first appear in dreams. But by themselves, dreams were not a
reliable source of information. “You said all this began when you decided to
have another baby?”

“Yeah.” The young woman
looked down at her lap again. “It started feeling like I...
had
to have
sex. It wasn’t spontaneous anymore, and I started feeling resistant. And then
I’d say to myself, ‘Well, you can’t get pregnant without having sex’ and I’d
try to push past the feelings, but it just got worse.”

That made sense to
Kate. If indeed Audrey had been forced into some kind of sexual activity as a
child, feeling like she was now
forced
to have sex might very well stir
up those old feelings and memories. But she decided not to say anything more
for now. She didn’t want to sound like she was pushing the idea of abuse.

“Audrey, whatever this
is, we’ll figure it out. But for now, I would suggest that you stop
trying
to get pregnant, at least for a month or two, until we get a handle on this
stuff. Just relax and don’t worry about that for awhile. Okay?”

Audrey nodded
reluctantly.

“I’d also like you to
keep a journal, and write down any thoughts, feelings, dreams, anything the
least bit unusual or disturbing. We may begin to see a pattern that will help
us sort this out.”

Kate ended the session
with more reassurances that whatever was going on, Audrey did not have to face
it alone. They would get through it together. It was a promise she frequently
made to her clients, that she would walk the path with them, sticking by them
until they didn’t need her anymore.

But in this case, that
promise would be harder than usual to keep.

W
ednesday morning, the
baby slept a whole half hour past her usual wake-up time.
Oh, bliss!
Kate decided that she had never sufficiently appreciated a full eight hours of
sleep until she had become a parent.

While feeding the baby
her cereal, Kate was planning her day off. Maybe they would start with a walk
around the block so she and Edie could both get some fresh air before the heat
of the day became too intense.

The little girl was
gobbling down her last spoonful of oatmeal when the phone rang. Well
experienced at maternal multitasking, Kate reached back to the kitchen counter
to snag the portable phone while her other hand scattered bite-sized pieces of
fruit on Edie’s highchair tray. The child would only eat about half of them but
she would entertain herself by smearing the others on her face and into her
hair.

“Girl, you don’t waste
any time,” Pauline, the counseling center’s receptionist, said in a teasing
tone. “One day back and you’ve already got folks falling apart on you.”

Kate sighed.
So much
for a peaceful morning with Edie.
This was yet another downside to her job,
having her personal life interrupted by client emergencies. “Who is it and
what’s their number?”

“Audrey. But she didn’t
ask that you call her back. She wanted to know if she could get in to see you
before her appointment next week. You have a hole in your schedule tomorrow but
I wanted to check with you first.” The sixty-two-year-old woman had been the
center’s receptionist for well over a decade and had picked up on some of the
nuances of counseling, one of which was the need to not encourage too much
dependency in clients.

But Kate had no such
concerns with Audrey; she wasn’t the type to become overly dependent on anybody.
Indeed, the woman’s independent nature was one of the reasons she and Kate
clicked so well, since Kate shared that trait.

“Yes, plug her into the
opening tomorrow.”

~~~~~~~~

W
hen Audrey arrived for
her session the next morning, the young woman looked even worse than she had
two days ago. After a quick greeting, she abruptly said, “I think you’re right,
Kate. I think I was sexually abused.”

“Oh?” Sometimes the
less a therapist says the better.

“Yeah, I’ve started
having flashes of images, like the dreams, but it’s when I’m awake. Do you
think those are the memories coming up?”

“Possibly. But we need
to go cautiously here. Human memory is a bit fickle and rather susceptible to
suggestion.”

“Wait a minute.”
Audrey’s tone was sharp. “First you tell me you think I was abused and now
you’re backpedaling!”

“No, not at all,” Kate
replied. “But I don’t want you to force the issue and
try
to remember
something, because then you may not be able to trust whatever comes up.”

“All I know is that
since I started having these memories... images... whatever the hell they are,
I’ve been incredibly anxious. Tuesday, after our session, I felt like I was
jumping out of my skin. Then that evening, I actually started running from room
to room as if I was trying to get away from something. Fortunately, Ted wasn’t
home and Alicia was in bed.”

“Well, that does
support the idea that something real is trying to surface,” Kate said.
“Something you were imagining wouldn’t have that strong an emotional charge on
it.”

“Either that or I’m
just plain losing it.” The young woman paused. “Sorry for snapping at you,
Kate. You’re not the one I’m angry with.”

“Who are you angry at?”

“The son of a bitch who
did whatever he did to me!”

“Is it like in the
dreams, you can’t see the face?”

“Yeah, just this big
body looming over me. But it looks like a man’s body.” Audrey closed her eyes
for a moment, recalling the images. “Actually it’s... he’s built like my
father. Or it could be creepy Uncle Phil. He looks a lot like my father. But my
gut says it’s the old man.”

“Again, Audrey, we need
to be careful not to jump from speculation to reality here.”

“I know, I know.”
Suddenly tears sprang into her eyes and Audrey slammed her fist down on the arm
of her chair. “Damn that son of a bitch! Here I had all that stuff about him
and Mother all put to rest, tied up in a nice little package, and I was getting
on with my life. Really feeling
good
most of the time, and now this
crap.”

Kate wasn’t surprised
by Audrey’s outburst. It was called trauma recovery, rather than cure, for a
reason. You were never sure if you’d gotten through it all. The past could come
back to haunt you again, as new issues came up or buried pieces of the trauma
were triggered by life events.

After reassuring her
client that her reaction was normal and understandable, Kate said, “One thing I
never have to worry about with you, Audrey, like I do with some of my clients.
You don’t have any trouble getting in touch with your anger.”

That got a small smile
out of the woman.

“But we need to proceed
carefully, not jump to conclusions. Your father could be the abuser, or your
uncle or someone else entirely. We just don’t know yet.”

“I know. I do
understand all that. But, Kate, I really need to figure this out. I can’t wait
forever to have a second child. I’m already thirty-three.”

“I know you’re not the
type of person who just waits around for something to happen,” Kate said. “You
make it happen. It’s one of the things I admire about you, Audrey. But you may
have a bit of a challenge here. You may have to learn to be patient.”

Audrey snorted. “Yeah,
not exactly one of my strengths. But I’ll try.”

As the session was
winding down, Audrey told Kate that she had decided not to let her parents
babysit her daughter anymore. Kate wholeheartedly agreed with that decision.

Then Audrey said, “Can
I see you twice a week for awhile, Kate? Ted just got a raise and he said he
wants me to get whatever help I need to get through this.”

So much for
patience,
Kate thought, suppressing a smile. Out loud she said, “There may
be times when it would be better to let something percolate for awhile. But
yes, for now, we can do that.”

~~~~~~~~

A
t noon, Kate was
sitting in her favorite booth at Mac’s Place in the center of Towson. Both Rob
and Liz Franklin were joining her for what Liz had dubbed her
return-to-adulthood luncheon.

Kate had arrived a bit
early. Enjoying the opportunity to relax for a few minutes, she closed her eyes
and took a deep breath. She loved the way the restaurant smelled. There were
the delicious fragrances of Old Bay seasoning and crabmeat that made her mouth
water for one of Mac’s excellent Maryland crab cakes.

But the non-food smells
were part of the bouquet for her as well, even the slight mustiness of the
stuffing peeking out of a crack in the brown vinyl of her bench. They evoked
pleasant memories of the days when Mac Reilly’s parents and her own had been
best friends. Kate and her siblings had often played hide-and-seek with Mac
amongst the booths and tables of what had then been called Reilly’s Pub.

Rose Hernandez broke
into Kate’s reverie about childhood games by dropping onto the bench across
from her.

“Hey, Rose, what’s up?”

“Just hanging around,
helping Mac out,” Rose said. Her black silky hair was pulled back in a tight
bun and her short, compact body was encased in snug jeans and a peach knit top
that made her skin glow.

Come to think of it,
whenever she wears that top, Mac glows as well
, Kate thought.

“Rob coming?” Rose
asked.

“He should be here any
minute. Liz, too.”

“Skip told you the
news, right?”

“Yes.” Kate grinned at
her friend. “But I’ll let you tell them.”

“Tell us what?” Rob
asked.

Rose got up and moved
around the table to sit next to Kate, giving Rob the opposite bench to himself.
At six-two, with middle age spread gaining on him, Rob took up a fair amount of
space.

“You’re looking at the
proud co-owner of Canfield and Hernandez, Private Investigations,” Rose said,
flashing one of her rare smiles that transformed her rather ordinary face into
a vision of radiant beauty.

“Wow! Congratulations,”
Rob said. “But I thought you didn’t have your PI license yet.”

“I don’t, but Skip
insisted on putting my name on the door. Figuratively speaking that is. We
don’t have an office yet. We get established, then it’s bye-bye Baltimore
County Police Department, hello independence.”

Rose stood up. “You
guys want your usual?”

“Yeah, and a duplicate
of Kate’s for Liz,” Rob said.

Rose went off to place
their order.

Liz arrived a moment
later and slid in beside her husband. As Rob told her the news about Skip’s and
Rose’s new venture, Kate studied her friends from across the table. Petite Liz
looked almost like a child next to Rob’s bulk. Her smooth complexion,
mischievous green eyes and short strawberry blonde hair belied her age–just a
year younger than his forty-eight. Indeed the salt that now dominated the
pepper in his hair made Rob look a bit older than his years. But he refused to
dye it, saying the distinguished look gave him an advantage in the courtroom.

Kate and Rob had
started out as work buddies. His law firm was just down the hall from the
counseling center, and through the years he had helped many of Kate’s clients
deal with the legal messes in their lives. As the relationship had evolved into
friendship, they’d started socializing outside the office, along with their
spouses. Then in the weeks after Eddie’s death, when his murderer had made
multiple attempts to kill them as well, Kate and the Franklins had been to hell
and back together. Like soldiers in combat, they had forged a bond that was
sometimes hard for others to fathom.

Kate and Rob explained
their relationship, when they felt someone merited an explanation, as that of
brother and sister, but she was actually closer to him than she was to her
siblings, even her sister, Mary. After what she and Rob had been through
together, they were more like twins, or at least what she imagined most twins
experienced–a sense of connection that often did not require words.
Make
that triplets,
she thought. She was now almost as close to Liz as she was
to Rob.

Kate realized that Liz
was talking to her. “Have you seen their new office?”

“They don’t have one
yet,” Kate said. “They’re working out of their apartments, trying to save on
overhead. Rose is staying on the force for awhile, but Skip has already quit
his job. I tried to lend him some money, to ease the squeeze while they got
things rolling, but he wouldn’t take it.”

Skip’s refusal of her
money should have reassured him of the man’s good intentions, but Rob was
frowning. Liz made eye contact with Kate and rolled her eyes. Neither of them
quite understood why Rob was having so much trouble accepting Skip.

Liz changed the
subject. “So how’s it feel to be back at work?”

“Good, well, mostly
good,” Kate said. “It feels great to be making a difference in people’s lives
again. I mean, being home with Edie was making a difference in her life, but...
I’m not saying this very well. I guess it feels like I’m doing my part to make
the world better, one psyche at a time.”

Rob reached across the
table and gently poked her chin to move her face to the side, then nudged it
around to the other side. 

“What are you doing?”
she said, pulling back. 

“Trying to decide which
is your best profile for the publicity photos, when the governor names you
Caped Crusader of the Year.”

Kate stuck her tongue
out at him.

Liz chuckled. “Now
children, behave.”

A waitress arrived,
depositing their crab cake sandwiches on the table, with fries for Rob and side
salads for Kate and Liz. Rob stole the pickle slices off both women’s plates to
add to his own pile.

A short wiry man with a
brown buzz cut and bright blue eyes appeared next to their booth. The apron
that covered a good part of his tee shirt and jeans provided a visual guide to
the day’s specials. “Hey, Rob, Liz,” Mac greeted them. “So you’re back in the
saddle, huh, sweet pea. How’s it goin’?”

Rob started singing the
Batman theme song. “Dinna-dinna-dinna-dinna, dinna-dinna-dinna-dinna, Caped
Kate!”

Snorting, Kate inhaled part
of the bite of crab cake she had just taken. As she coughed into her napkin,
she located Rob’s shin under the table and gently kicked him.

After a sip of iced
tea, she said, “Good, Mac. It’s going good, for the most part.”

Mac nodded, just as a
busboy frantically waved at him from the kitchen doorway. “Later, gang,” he
said, and took off to deal with whatever calamity was brewing behind the
scenes.

“For the most part?”
Rob asked.

“Well, I’m totally
enjoying the stuff I’ve always loved about my work. But I had forgotten some of
the not-so-fun things, like the no-shows and the emergency calls on my day off.
I feel like I’ve jumped back in the water at the deep end of the pool instead
of easing in at the shallow end.”

~~~~~~~~

K
ate was reminded of
that comment the next morning when she arrived at the center. She had been
anticipating a short and relatively easy Friday, but Pauline informed her that
Tammy Wingate had called in a panic, demanding to be seen today. “I told her
you might have an opening but I would have to get back to her.”

Kate heaved a sigh.
“Okay, see if she can come in at four.”
There goes my short, easy day.

As Kate was ushering
her last morning client out of her office, she spotted Tammy in the waiting
room. The young woman rushed over.