Flash: Marriage Therapy Session 1

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Greta greeted her next set of patients personally in order to calm them. The barriers usually required for psychiatric work became problematic during the beginning stages of couple therapy. Particularly sex therapy, her specialty. Later she would draw back behind the curtains of formality. Finding the balance between allowing people to open up and keeping people at a distance was difficult but necessary. Her goal was always to have the couple bond with each other and not have her consciously or unconsciously part of the relationship.

After introducing Wyatt and Liza Donnelly to her secretary, Greta led the couple to her office. She drew them away from the business desk, which they had automatically chosen to approach, to the small conversation area, where a couple of chairs and a sofa existed. She held back to see how they would sit.

Some couples chose to sit together on the sofa, used to providing a false image of marital bliss to those outside the relationship. Those were the easiest to heal. Pretending to be in love required many of the emotional reactions of being in love. Other couples had one in a chair and one on the coach, leaving her the chair on the opposite end. These couples usually could be saved; they did not want a stranger between them.

Greta frowned as the couple took the chairs on the opposite ends of the area, leaving her the center. Still the couple cared enough to contact her Internet site and arrange for therapy. Reluctantly she took the sofa position, unwilling to tower over the Donnellys during the initial interview.

The husband was dressed in a four-piece black suit. From his patent leather shoes, to the cut of his vest, his clothes spoke money and ease with it. His expensive haircut accented his cheekbones and blue eyes. The woman had an unfortunately loud yellow turtleneck sweater teamed with grey slacks, which combined completely engulfed her body. Her brown hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and her thick framed glasses hid her eyes. All her clothes could have been bought at Walmart.

Picking up her pen and pad from the coffee table, Greta smiled at the couple, turning her head to encompass both. Liza eyes dropped to her hands, while Wyatt’s met hers with frank appraisal.

“Thank you for coming by. This is the initial interview, to establish exactly where your relationship is and where you want it to be.” Greta watched as the couple relaxed, their expectations of the session being met. Now was the time to make them uncomfortable. “So let’s start with the easiest. How did you meet?”

Liza peaked over her glasses at her husband. Wyatt responded without even looking at her. “At my company. Donnelly Enterprises hired Security Tech specialists to upgrade our computer system, Liza installed the product.”

“How long ago was this?”

Wyatt shifted to take up more space in the chair, turning to completely face the doctor. “About a year ago.”

“348 days, 5 hours.” Liza whispered to her hands.

Greta blinked. “Well, that is fairly specific.”

Wyatt chuckled low. “My Liza is like that. Specific.” Liza smiled at her hands from the complement, but Greta had not missed the look Wyatt had shot his wife when she had corrected him.

“Liza, how long have you been married?”

“346 days and, um – no need to adjust for daylight savings … but two hour difference to Las Vegas time – 14 hours.”

“So you too eloped?” Greta had turned her body to face Liza, watching Wyatt out of the corner of her eye. The video cameras facing each piece of furniture would reveal even more later. Her thoroughness forced her to take less clients, but her success rate was the highest in the business. Since Greta charged appropriately, her cliental ran on the rich side.

“She was the smartest, most beautiful woman I had ever met. I wasn’t going to let her get away.” Wyatt explained, pulling attention back to himself. “It was Friday, and I had an appointment in Nevada on Sunday. I asked her to come with me to get to know her better, promised her separate rooms.”

Liza smiled shyly, raising her head. “We never did use them.”

“After the flight out Saturday morning on my private plane, we spent the day walking, talking, and rolling the dice, and eating and drinking and getting along like we were made for each other. Sometime that night we found a Justice of the Peace.”

Greta scratched notes. Not because she needed to, but because people felt more comfortable when she did. “Excellent, so you have been married less than a year. What are the problems you are experiencing?”

“Liza doesn’t want me.”

Liza’s head snapped up. “No, no. It isn’t that I don’t love you. Just since I …”

Her voice tapered off and neither of the couple filled the void. Unusual during the first interview. Usually accusations fly – he wants sex too much, she cheated on me, he won’t give me oral, she put on weight and won’t lose it so she is attractive, oh like you haven’t tucked it on too.

Finally, after the clock ticked off five minutes, Greta prodded, “Since what?”

Wyatt for the first time didn’t meet Greta’s eyes, instead his eyes drifted to the side. “Since she lost the baby.”

Greta picked up the emphasis Wyatt applied to ‘she’. She repeated back the answer, slightly differently. “Since the two of you lost the baby?”

Liza, with her hands knotted in her lap with white knuckles showing, nodded . Wyatt’s eyes snapped to Greta face, and growled, “Yes, since the two of us lost the baby.”

Wyatt’s hands gripped his chair. “He was four months along.”

Sometimes Greta hated her job. Wounds had to be ripped open to remove the poison. “And how long ago was the miscarriage?”

Liza did not provide her accurate time. After a minute wait, Wyatt replied, “Seven months.”

Dealing with a miscarriage less than five months into a relationship, many couples involved far longer, who had history of how to deal with issues and problems, could not handle that.

“And what do the two of you want to do with your marriage? What is the goal of these sessions?”

Wyatt shifted in his thousand dollar suit, while keeping his attention on Greta. “To heal. I want my marriage to heal.”

“Then you need to get up and hold your wife.” Greta directed.

“Why?” Wyatt looked confused.

“Because she is crying.”

Wyatt finally turned his attention to his wife. Liza had pulled her feet up onto the chair and was sobbing with her face buried in her knees. He whispered, “But she never cries.”

(words 1,121; first published 9/18/2013; republished new blog format 9/16/2018)

Blog: Marriage Therapy Reprint

INITIAL BLOG WRITTEN 9/18/2013

Characters have lives of their own, or when I tried to write a short flash today

 You may noticed I posted two flashes today. I started about 8 in the morning and ended about 5. My goal was to write one flash based on a Breathless Press Sunday Flash picture of a man undressing. I thought I would have the character be in marriage counseling and he would strip as part of the therapy

You may have heard authors talk about characters going off on their own. Or started the story in the wrong spot and needed to start over. Seems strange, right? After all the stuff is all in the head. How could characters in your head do anything other than what you want them to do. And how can a story start in the wrong spot. Stories start where they start – right?

Well, I started the story way too early to have the guy strip during marriage counseling. The scene didn’t happen because the couple needed real counseling before sexual counseling could take place. I didn’t know that until the characters started their scene. So after three hours, I had a flash (Session One) which had nothing to do with the picture I was aiming for.

So I started over. Same characters, same situation, just a different point in their lives. Five hours later I had a pretty good short story pushing 3K words – not a flash suitable for posting on breathlessblog.com. But the strip scene was in it. 

So I slashed out that scene and posted it as Session Nine.

I thought I would post both for your reading pleasure so you can compare how the same exact character in the same situation can have very different things happen. 

Again, everyone, thanks for your ongoing support.

 

FOLLOWUP BLOG FOR 9/15/2018

So the Marriage Therapy story has finally come around as part of the on-going reprint of old stories. Look for Session One on 9/16/18 and Session Nine for 9/23/18.

 I realized I never got around to publishing the original (nearly 3K) story from which I exhumed Session Nine. It has a little something special about our marriage counselor, so I though you might like to see that too. Look for the long version on my 2000 Word day – 9/30/18.

 Again, thank you everyone for your ongoing support. Happy reading!

Flash: A Dragon and a Witch

Image courtesy of Phil_Bird at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Rating: Mature

Leathery wings silently glided the dragon over the Nether Gate. Twisting to the pond as he dipped below the fruit trees scattered throughout the garden, Indigo called to the Inner Fire and flashed bright for a moment, transforming into human shape to touch boot on the stone pier.

“Well, if isn’t His Hotness invading my home yet again.”

His dark eyes searched the shadows for the witch whose vitriol-laden sexy voice had sent shivers down his vulnerable flesh form. He found her plucking a plum from a tree. Striding forward onto the rich loam, he closed the distance between them.

Not moving, she bit down on his favorite fruit, and he watched her cheeks hollow, sucking the juices out before she asked, “What did I tell you the last time?”

“That if I ever showed up here again, you weren’t going to kick me out.” The sometimes-man smirked down at the small, but curvy witch. “I fail to see the threat.” He grabbed the hand holding the plum and pulled it up to his mouth to take a bite where she had already broken the skin, Vera fighting him all the way but failing. Despite her inhuman strength capable of maintaining the magical garden, his arms could carry a dragon’s weight into the air. There was no real contest even though she pretended there was.

“I assume you carried this message to your queen as well.” She huffed, standing on tiptoes, waiting to regain her limb.

Taking a second to admire the juices flowing down the slim white arm from the half-eaten fruit, he eventually answered, “In all the glorious detail you provided. That you no longer owed fealty to the Air. The treaty had played out it four score and once more and anything coming from your garden will be paid for, not taxes and tribute collected.” He licked the juices which had reached the hollow of her elbow as she continued to struggle ineffectively against his greater might. He watched out of the corner of his eye her reactions while he followed the sticky line back up her arms, giving special attention around her wrist before prying the fruit from her fingers and releasing her arm.

During the entire time her eyes widened and darkened. She hadn’t stepped back, but instead licked her lips and her breathing deepened. The witch could have spoken a spell to throw him from the shade of the tree and into the water, but she hadn’t risked the start of a war, or maybe there was another reason. They had been playmates while she had resided as hostage-supplicant in High Aerie until her parent’s death and her inheriting their land.

“I also carried your warning that anything entering your lands is to be considered yours from now on to do with as you see fit.” One quick bite finished the fruit, and he threw the pit aside. “The queen does not care.”

After shaking out her arm, Vera brought the fingers to her mouth to suck the last of the stickiness from them. Pulling two moisten fingers from her mouth, the brunette looked up through her bangs and asked, “Is that Regina’s only answer?” She popped her thumb into her mouth, swirling her tongue around as her cheeks hollowed again, sucking firmly.

Indigo felt his eyes go completely purple as he watched her. Two sides of a cold, cold war kept them apart during their adolescent years while she became a ruler and he a trusted solider. The childhood friendship had changed into something else entirely the next time them met. Something that could never be pursued without total surrender on one of their parts, her part. Something the queen expected him to acquire before the next full moon – the surrender, not the results that both of them really wanted – to Void with the queen’s expectations. A short laugh twisted from his gut. “No. She expects the normal tribute to be brought by your farmhands in six days. And your presence to sign a new treaty.”

Satisfied all the stickiness had been removed, the witch wiped her hand on her apron, then pushed her long braids back bringing his attention to her long neck. He did like graceful necks in both his forms.

“Or?”

“I have been instructed to burn field after field until you capitulate.” Indigo’s broad shoulder’s shrugged, his face stoic.

Vera gasped, laying a hand upon her generous bosom. A feature he only appreciated in human form. “Oh, no!”

Indigo’s eyes narrowed. That wasn’t fear but extreme overacting.

“You do know,” her voice continued with the excessive hyperbolized tones she would use back when they were planning something their caretakers would rue later, “that as an Earth Witch bound to my lands, burning them will send me into agony.”

“Which is why your grandparents surrendered the first time.” He cocked his head to the side, moving to lean under the fruit tree and crossing his arms. Flower petals drifted down from the ever-fruiting tree bearing heavy branches of pink flowers, green young fruit, and full purple plums. “Why are you even trying?”

“Because I rule here.” Her heart-shaped face firmed into marble, her tone cutting as sharp flint. “I owe those tied to these gardens and fields to try.” A small smile slipped in like gold flecks in a High Aerie mining vein. “Plus it affects all those in my family.”

He shook his head at her obstinateness. “You have no family left. You are the last of your line.”

“Except for my husband.”

A cold hollow formed within his Inner Fire. It roared back to fill the void and leaped higher, a hint escaping as smoke from his nostrils. He found himself suddenly learning towards her, his fists either side of his body. “What husband?” he growled.

“Fruit bit and shared, from lip to lip and hand to hand. Thus it is done. Thus is it done. It is done thus.” She stood on tiptoes and quickly pressed her lips against his where he leaned forward.

His world exploded, and he fell like a stone as the world, a land, rushed in to welcome him, bind him, ground him.

(Words 1030 – first published 8/19/2018)

Flash: Relocate

Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net

In 2013, I started as series with Kryler and Natalie on the old blog. I’ve republished them here in 2018 during tax season. I didn’t know where it was going and decided to have my fans decide the conclusion to Kryler’s and Natalie’s relationship arc. The flash timeline for their relationship would be: (1) Presentation, (2) Ride, (3) Take-out, (4) Labor, (5) Argument, and now (6) Relocate. Read on to find out if you guys and gals decided if they get a happily ever after or decide to end it.

 **************************

Dice clattered as Natalie made her way down the steps into Kryler’s man-cave. She made no sound as she went down the steps barefoot, her shoes left at the entrance. The basement, which ran the length and width of the house, had changed somewhat over the eight years since they started dating. The biggest change happened at the beginning of the second year of their marriage shortly after the birth of their daughter Mia; the area where his extensive gaming console had been located had been converted. A toybox, child’s book case, and babydoll crib now resided in the old boy toy area. The smelly, purple couch had been thrown out, the 72-inch television donated to Goodwill, and he set up the section of the basement closest to the steps for his programming.

The central gaming table where he played D&D and other time sucks remained.

Today four folding tables crowded the room, with a half dozen different laptops, cell phones, and three-hole notebooks strewn across them. But the Lost Boys, as she thought of them, were not diligently at work like Kryler promised they would be. Instead her personal Peter Pan had the three others gathered around the central table, playing, again.

All four were in uniform, the black Rodger’s Retrieval T-shirts overtop jeans. At least they had the brains not to sell merchanting rights when they gave NotGolfHobbies distribution rights. Still, she and Kryler never saw a dime from that either. The man’s damned generosity handed over all income to Andre, Efren and Will. His 401K was filled, he owned the house outright, didn’t owe anything on his car, and was debt free. Never mind they lived in a small two-bedroom, their cars were both pushing ten years, and the last of her student loans still had three months left. His friends needed the money more.

It was always about them, not her. Why the hell hadn’t he just married them?

Eventually Andre noticed her, or at least admitted he noticed her. Efren and Will were total misogynists. They gave up even pretending to like her years ago. Once Andre drew Kryler’s attention to her, his dull face lit up.

Kryler’s face never had been anything great. Sharp cheekbones, brown eyes, and floppy hair. Best she would call it is pleasant. Once or twice, maybe more, she would admit it beautiful. Like right now, love shone from his eyes.

“Hey Firebrand, welcome home.” Kryler tossed his dice behind the screen and made his way to the staircase. “Where’s Mia?”

“She’s staying with your mom tonight.” Natalie crossed her arms, first staring at him as his smile faltered, returning his face to just pleasant. He just turned twenty-nine, soon fat would overtake that gorgeous body of his; when that happened, she had no idea how she would find him sexually attractive. Her eyes then burned into the boys behind him. Her voice dripped in sarcasm, “How’s alpha testing going?”

Kryler ran both hands through his hair. The hair immediately flopped over his eyes because he yet again forgot to get it cut professionally like she constantly asked him.

“Well … it’s going well. Better than we hoped.”

“I can see that.” She continued to stare at the Lost Boys. Really, this has gone too far for too long. “Leave. Now. Just get out of my house.”

The losers didn’t even argue, too used to answering to their mommies.

Will picked up his backpack first. Efren jumped over to the tables and snapped close his computer and shoved two phones in his pockets.

Andre touched Kryler on his shoulder, not bothering to pick up anything. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you do that Andy.” Natalie stepped aside to let the boys stream out. “You can finish the games tomorrow.”

“Can you not do that?” Kryler’s fists clenched, though his voice stayed soft. He always stayed soft; he had no fight to him.

“Do what? Tell your pals they can come back and play tomorrow? It’s not like anything I am going to do is going to stop that.” Natalie turned to storm upstairs.

Kryler’s light step followed. “We were only playing, waiting for the last of the beta testers to sign up.”

“I thought you were on alpha testing.”

“Efren already ran the full battery of the tests, plus had two alpha testers run through everything.” Kryler’s soothing tenor, perfect for calming frantic toddlers but not as good on full-grown women, followed her from his base of operations to the living room. A room set aside for the few times she needed to bring guests home. No movie posters adorned walls, no bookcases tilted from book overloads, no stupid electronic games tucked into corners. The carpet had no wear to it, no child spit up, no stains. “We learned a lot from Rodger’s Retrieval. The alpha tests he ran only needed two patches. Ebony’s Rainbow will be in beta tomorrow as soon as Andre approves the last of the fifty testers and releases it.”

“That is wonderful, baby.” Natalie’s voice could cut glass, and stopped Kryler’s needy explanations short. Listening to his constant apologies churned her stomach. She didn’t like excuses at work, she didn’t like them at home.

He shifted his feet. “So how did the presentation go?”

“Perfect.” Her voice dripped with artificial honey. “Perez liked it so much he is taking over the project.”

“Oh, beautiful. I am so sorry.” Kryler moved to hold her.

“It gets better.” Natalie stepped away from his comfort. Part of her wanted to seek it out. Just to be held and cry, but there was no point in that. “Since Perez is coming back to the US, someone will need to cover the Mexico headquarters. They chose me.”

Kryler frowned. “So, we are relocating to Mexico?”

“No, stupid boy, I’m relocating to Mexico. You stay here with Mia. No way am I going to have her start kindergarten in Mexico.” Natalie smiled, and Kryler’s heart shriveled as hope left it. “In a year, we can get a divorce without a problem. With the promotion to Vice President, and the out-of-country bonus, I should be able to easily pay child support. Don’t expect any alimony though.”

“You’ve thought this out.”

“I’ve been thinking of asking about the Mexico position for a while now. Perez has been unhappy.” She shrugged in her teal silk shirt and gray wool business jacket. “I would prefer to keep my project after working on it so long, but a promotion is a promotion.”

“Yeah, that is great.” Kryler’s face twisted. She could see he was truly happy she had gotten the promotion. The boy was such a dud.

“I’ll go pack.”

Kryler grabbed her arm. “Wait, what?”

“Perez wants to get me up to speed before he comes here. I am flying out tomorrow morning and staying the week. After that, I will make final arrangements with my project and take over by November. They want everything in place before the beginning of the year.” She shrugged off his loose hold and went to the stairs going to the bedrooms.

“What about Mia?”

“I already visited her on the way home, telling her I’ll be on another one of my trips and asking your mom to keep her another day.” Natalie projected down the step when Kryler didn’t follow her up. “You can explain the other stuff tomorrow or whenever.”

Kryler looked at his left hand and started twisting the silver band off. “Yeah, simple as pie to tell a five year old her mother is abandoning her and her daddy.” His voice was soft as it always was.

He threw the ring across the room violently. It bounced out. He heard it roll down the tiled hall, then little pips as it bounced down the wooden steps into the basement.

(words 1,303 – first published 10/16/2013; republished in new blog format 3/11/2018)

Flash: Argument

“So the boys are coming over tonight.” Reported Kryler as he rinsed the breakfast dishes.

Natalie rolled her eyes. “For video games or playing D&D?”

Kryler shoulders tensed as he put his hands either side of the sink. Blood vessels popped on his arms, despite his wiry frame. His preferred form of exercise was running after their daughter. He inhaled, picturing Mia’s laughter. She had been at his mom’s this week so Natalie could concentrate on today’s presentation, which would either make or break all the efforts she had put in for four years. With the five-year old out of the picture, the fractures in his marriage had gone from simple cracks to huge gaping holes.

“For setting up the alpha testing of our next video game product.” He was surprised the words were recognizable since his teeth remained gritted the entire time.

Behind him the chair scraped as Natalie stood. “Planning on actually selling this one or giving it away like the last time?” The sneer dropped his wife’s voice an octave.

“For the last time, NotGolfHobbies was a legitimate games distributor by every resource we had available.” He turned around, crossing his arms protectively in front of his chest. “Only after they got Rodger’s Retrieval did they stop paying anyone.”

“Which you didn’t figure out for nineteen months!”

“It takes time for video games to find legs and royalties to come back.”

“When you first decided on playing games as a career, you said feedback was nearly instant.” Natalie walked towards the front door where everything she needed was precisely laid out.

Following her, Kryler dug his hands into his elbows. “Yes, feedback is instant. But, as I have since learned and I keep telling you, royalties are not.”

Natalie snapped open her briefcase for one last check. “Well, I can’t keep being the only one bringing in money. Would it kill you to find a real job?” She snapped the briefcase shut.

“We agreed I would do programming until Mia is in school.” Kryler eyes stared off to the side; he blinked back tears of pain. “That way one of us would be home.”

Shifting the briefcase to her left hand, Natalie turned the doorknob with her right. “Well, it’s July and she starts school in two months. Why don’t you start working on that resume?”

The door slammed between them.

(words 393 – originally appearing at Breathless Press 9/8/2013 for the 2/12/12 Sunday Fun (original photo of unknown copyright so not posted here; republished in new blog format 3/4/2018)