Playboy Pilot(83)
Dr. Lemmon smiled. “No, I think I got it now. Have you spoken to Kendall recently?”
“Just that one time I already told you about. When she called me.”
“What night was it when you spoke to her, again?”
What the hell was with this woman and her dates today? I thought back. I’d just landed in Florida from my Dubai flight when she called, so it must have been Tuesday. “Tuesday.”
“And you spoke for about an hour, if I recall correctly.”
“Give or take, yeah.”
“And how did you sleep that night?”
Let’s see. Kendall and I had spoken the entire drive home and then while I made a sandwich in my apartment. I’d woken up the next morning still in my uniform at almost ten. “That was my last good night of sleep. But I was tired from a long flight.”
“Did you fly yesterday?”
“I did.”
“For how many hours?”
“Nine.”
“And how many hours was the flight you were tired from when you spoke to Kendall that night you slept well?”
“About the same.”
Dr. Lemmon just stared at me.
“So you’re saying that I can’t sleep without talking to Kendall anymore?”
“I’m saying that the two are very likely connected. You’re feeling anxiety. Unsettled. Nervous. All of which is keeping you from sleeping. Is there any other reason for you to be feeling this way, other than how you left things after your encounter with Kendall?”
It annoyed the shit out of me that she was so right. “No.”
“Well there you go.”
“So what am I supposed to do? Call her every night so she can sing me a lullaby?”
“You already know what you need to do.”
“So what the hell am I paying you for if I already know all the answers?” I let out a frustrated sigh.
“You need to make a decision to either move forward with Kendall or cut ties. We talked about this the other day. I can help you sort out your thoughts and figure out your next steps, but only you can make the decision on whether to be with the woman you love or not. You have trust issues with Kendall. It’s understandable. She left you once, and you’re afraid she’ll do it again when things get tough.” Dr. Lemmon took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “Carter, Lucy had a disease.”
“Lucy? We’re talking about Kendall here, Doc.”
“The two are very much intertwined. In our previous sessions, you admitted you felt like Lucy took the easy way out with her suicide. That is a common misconception of the loved ones left behind. But the truth of the matter is that people who commit suicide believe there is no other choice. Depression is a disease, not unlike asthma, measles or the Plague. If left untreated, they all get worse, and eventually the disease takes the life.”
I raked my fingers through my hair. “Okay. But I don’t understand what this all has to do with Kendall.”
“You’ve had two special women in your life. Lucy, who you perceive left you when things got tough. And Kendall, who did the same. You’re afraid of it happening again.”
I wasn’t sure she was right, but I felt drained and wanted the conversation to move on. “So bottom line, I need to make a decision on whether I can trust Kendall again, or I’m never going to sleep?”
Dr. Lemmon chuckled. “I can prescribe you something to help you sleep at night in the short term. But other than that…shit or get off the pot.”
Shit or get off the pot? I was paying two hundred and fifty dollars an hour for advice my father gave me in third grade.
I WAS AFRAID TO TAKE the sleeping pills. Even though I’d filled the prescription, the warning label had cautioned against driving heavy machinery for twenty-four hours after taking the medicine. I’d say my Boeing 747 qualified as pretty heavy machinery, and since I had a flight tomorrow afternoon, I needed to find other ways to wear myself out to get some sleep.
After running five miles around the outskirts of my development, I decided to stop in and check on Gordon again. Unfortunately, the visit had only made me feel worse. I wasn’t an expert by any means, but he seemed to be deteriorating a little more each day. His ankles were constantly filled with fluid, and tonight he had trouble wiggling his toes on one foot. Even though it was after hours, I’d called his doctor to give him an update. He’d basically told me that I should just try to make sure he was comfortable, that there wasn’t too much more they could do for a man of Gordon’s age and health.
It was late by the time I arrived back at my apartment. Feeling an intense sadness over how things were progressing with Gordon, I wanted nothing more than to pick up the phone and call Kendall. Other than Dr. Lemmon, she was the only person I’d ever really opened up to in my life. I knew she’d understand how I felt. But that wasn’t fair to do to her. I needed to figure out if I can see a future for us before unloading my depressing shit on her.