the perfect blend of interest without pressure. They had mutual interests in movies, books, and travel. Wouldn’t it be great if we met in Rome, David had once said. Trevi Fountain , Tessa replied, though even as her fingers typed, her head told her she’d never have the nerve to follow through.
Tessa smiled, thinking of the ways that David seemed perfect, from little things like a shared distaste for cauliflower, to big things, like their take on politics. They had their differences, of course, but those, too, made Tessa smile. Tessa had tried to convince David that her alma mater, Northwestern University, was an athletic powerhouse with many conference titles under their belt. David countered that the measure of true college athletics was America’s Passion: football. And on that score, Northwestern had one of the worst collegiate records. His alma mater, on the other hand, was a football powerhouse, boasting a glowing record and an impressive list of superstars.
Like OJ Simpson , Tessa had countered, grinning mischievously as she typed her reply.
Touché , David had responded almost immediately, though he later asserted it was unfair to judge a century old football program on one bad apple.
Tessa reread David’s latest email. Another read-through and she’d have it memorized, word for word. After her last phone follow up, Tessa had begged Shawntay to act as her therapist.
“Oh no,” she’d said. “I’m not qualified. But stay with me, girl. I will find you the right person.”
“Half mother and half drill sergeant,” Tessa had told her. “I need tough love. Someone like you.”
Shawntay had promised to explore “less traditional” therapy, if that’s what Tessa wanted.
As Tessa stared at David’s invitation to meet, she wished she had a therapist. She needed that combination of insight and tough love to get her head straight. And she desperately wanted her head straight before she screwed things up with David.
David,
I’d love to meet you. Unfortunately, I’ll be out of town most of next week , she lied. Please, please say you’ll give me a rain check.
Tessa
PS: pressure for a rain check : - )
***
Tessa was finishing a sketch when the call from Shawntay came.
“Sorry to bother you during work hours. Can you talk?”
“Just a minute.”
Tessa shut her office door and took a seat behind the smooth, mahogany desk she and Mark had picked out five years ago. She pushed aside fabric swatches and design images that had consumed her only moments ago. She shifted her focus to the phone in her hand. Shawntay respected Tessa’s concern about privacy at work. She wouldn’t have called the office if it wasn’t important. “Okay. What’s up?”
“Can you meet with me after work tonight? I have a resource you might want to consider, but it’ll take some explaining.”
Tessa bit her lip. A referral that requires explanation? Trying for lightness she didn’t feel, Tessa said, “I suppose Season Seven of NCIS can wait.”
“Seven?” Slight pause. “Tony faces the screwed up relationship he has with Senior, Gibbs faces his former mother-in-law and the rift between them over the death of Shannon and Kelly, and Vance faces the strange relationship he has with an old nemesis, who happens to be an assassin.” Shawntay took a breath, then added, “See, Tessa, even fictional people have relationship issues. We need to get together to talk about addressing yours.”
Tessa couldn’t help herself. Despite the knot that was forming in her stomach, she smiled. They agreed to meet at Poppy’s, a mom and pop diner seven or eight blocks from Tessa’s office. It served tall, thick milkshakes to customers seated in tall, thickly upholstered booths, which made it a great place for private conversation and a bad place to diet.
Tessa hung up and refocused on sketches and swatches. At 5:00, she turned off her computer and slid her sketch pad into her top desk drawer. It looked exactly the same as it
Tessa smiled, thinking of the ways that David seemed perfect, from little things like a shared distaste for cauliflower, to big things, like their take on politics. They had their differences, of course, but those, too, made Tessa smile. Tessa had tried to convince David that her alma mater, Northwestern University, was an athletic powerhouse with many conference titles under their belt. David countered that the measure of true college athletics was America’s Passion: football. And on that score, Northwestern had one of the worst collegiate records. His alma mater, on the other hand, was a football powerhouse, boasting a glowing record and an impressive list of superstars.
Like OJ Simpson , Tessa had countered, grinning mischievously as she typed her reply.
Touché , David had responded almost immediately, though he later asserted it was unfair to judge a century old football program on one bad apple.
Tessa reread David’s latest email. Another read-through and she’d have it memorized, word for word. After her last phone follow up, Tessa had begged Shawntay to act as her therapist.
“Oh no,” she’d said. “I’m not qualified. But stay with me, girl. I will find you the right person.”
“Half mother and half drill sergeant,” Tessa had told her. “I need tough love. Someone like you.”
Shawntay had promised to explore “less traditional” therapy, if that’s what Tessa wanted.
As Tessa stared at David’s invitation to meet, she wished she had a therapist. She needed that combination of insight and tough love to get her head straight. And she desperately wanted her head straight before she screwed things up with David.
David,
I’d love to meet you. Unfortunately, I’ll be out of town most of next week , she lied. Please, please say you’ll give me a rain check.
Tessa
PS: pressure for a rain check : - )
***
Tessa was finishing a sketch when the call from Shawntay came.
“Sorry to bother you during work hours. Can you talk?”
“Just a minute.”
Tessa shut her office door and took a seat behind the smooth, mahogany desk she and Mark had picked out five years ago. She pushed aside fabric swatches and design images that had consumed her only moments ago. She shifted her focus to the phone in her hand. Shawntay respected Tessa’s concern about privacy at work. She wouldn’t have called the office if it wasn’t important. “Okay. What’s up?”
“Can you meet with me after work tonight? I have a resource you might want to consider, but it’ll take some explaining.”
Tessa bit her lip. A referral that requires explanation? Trying for lightness she didn’t feel, Tessa said, “I suppose Season Seven of NCIS can wait.”
“Seven?” Slight pause. “Tony faces the screwed up relationship he has with Senior, Gibbs faces his former mother-in-law and the rift between them over the death of Shannon and Kelly, and Vance faces the strange relationship he has with an old nemesis, who happens to be an assassin.” Shawntay took a breath, then added, “See, Tessa, even fictional people have relationship issues. We need to get together to talk about addressing yours.”
Tessa couldn’t help herself. Despite the knot that was forming in her stomach, she smiled. They agreed to meet at Poppy’s, a mom and pop diner seven or eight blocks from Tessa’s office. It served tall, thick milkshakes to customers seated in tall, thickly upholstered booths, which made it a great place for private conversation and a bad place to diet.
Tessa hung up and refocused on sketches and swatches. At 5:00, she turned off her computer and slid her sketch pad into her top desk drawer. It looked exactly the same as it
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