THE WIFE or THE MISTRESS: BOOK II: CHAPTER FOUR: PLAYING FOOL TO CATCH WISE Part 3

BLAKE:

I arrive at the place where Bernard told me to meet him. Strangely, the last place I expected it to be was in the main building in one of the Presidential suites overlooking the vast ocean beyond. The attendant at the front desk handed me the room key and told me to make myself comfortable; that Dr. Fisher would be joining me shortly. That was the first time I’d ever heard him referred to by his official title. I suppose he’d advised the staff to address him that way so there would be no misconceptions or preconceived notions as to why I’m meeting the man in an out-of-the-way hotel room. Sure, there are a few singles at the resort, but I suppose this is his way of making sure I’m not considered one of them. For that, I’m grateful.

As I wander aimlessly around the room, I think back to Ted and I last night. Although there was the easy familiarity we’ve always known, there was still none of the ease. He gave me an opportunity to grieve in my own way about the only man who had been more of a father to me than my own. I told Ted honestly that I can’t see my way clear without Gramps around, and how knowing that he left me part of his legacy confuses me even more. Diane knows every portion of the business, inside and out, while I’m feeling like a fish out of water. Ted just did what he always does. He spoke encouragement into me while holding me close as we sat on the beach outside our villa. It’s going to be a bit challenging to go from Blake Wyzecki- ex-Crystal Queen to Blake Wyzecki- business man. It certainly puts my understanding of Justin into a different perspective, since he had to do the same type of transition, minus the whole stint in rehab bit.

“Good morning, Blake. Sorry I’m late. Have you had breakfast yet?” Bernard comes in, followed by a waiter.

“No, I haven’t. I was a bit too nervous to eat this morning.”

He nods as if he understands the jumbled thoughts running through my head. “Well, let’s sit down and have a bite. I know this is a little unorthodox, but I’m hungry and hate to eat alone. So cop a squat. Raoul, can you pour a cup of coffee for both Blake and I?”

“Right away, Dr. Fisher,” the young waiter answers as he finishes uncovering the various dishes.

“Jesus, Bernard! How many people do you intend on feeding?” I ask, looking at the enormous quantity of food. It kind of reminds me of dinner at Deb’s.

“Well, I was told that you have an appetite similar to Justin’s, and I wasn’t sure of what you might want.”

“So you expected me not to be able to turn down food?” I smile at him.

“Let’s just say, I was hopeful. Otherwise I would have looked like an overstuffed chipmunk by the time our session finished. I must be honest and tell you that food is one of my few vices that I’m not willing to give up.”

“What are the others?”

“If you’re good, I may tell you someday. But today, we’re here to talk about you and yours.” He turns to the waiter. “Thanks, Raoul. We’ll serve ourselves.”

I nod my thanks as well, while crossing over from the windows to the table. “Do you…”

“What?” Bernard asks when I hesitate. “Ah, I see. Would you rather we took advantage of the terrace?”

I drop my eyes before answering. “I wasn’t sure if it would be allowed, but yes please. I think the fresh air will do me some good.”

“I don’t mind, but Blake, never ever be afraid to ask for the things you want or need, okay? This is a free forum atmosphere, so speak when you must. Although I know a lot about you, and am devilishly handsome, I am not nor have I ever been a mind-reader.”

“Really? But you’re so modest,” I tease back.

“Yes, well we all have our limitations. I’ll leave being one with the Creator and the science of the Sixth Sense to Mysterious Marilyn, thank you very much.”

I laughed as we got our food and took our seats. “So why here?”

“Here as in the island, or here as in the main building? You have to be more specific.”

“I guess I would like an answer to both.”

He put his fork and knife down to look me square in the eye. “First things first, Blake. I like to treat sessions as if it’s just two friends getting together to talk. As I can see, you’re already overthinking what you will say and what you won’t say. When that happens, we’re never able to really get our issues resolved. I say we because as humans we’re taught to filter everything, including our words, deeds and emotions. In this case, it hasn’t been a healthy practice for you and Ted.”

“If what you say is true, then why hasn’t Michael learned the same?” I ask bitterly, and suddenly feel bad that I voiced the question.

“Don’t you dare apologize for feeling the way you do. All feelings are valid, even if they are misperceived at the time. However, you aren’t exactly wrong in this case. Michael has been taught, but mostly he lives within the Id section of his mind.”

“The Id? I remember reading about that while I was in college.”

“Then you understand what it’s function is. It’s what caused you to desire drugs and other things that were not necessarily good for you, but in the moment, it met a physical need. It’s based on the pleasure principle for a reason. In Michael’s case, his ego, which has a definitive sense of right and wrong as we all do and seeks to appease the Id in long-term ways, takes a back seat to his desire for immediate gratification.”

“So you’re saying that his perception is off, or that his reason and common sense isn’t functioning?”

“No. I’m saying that he ignores it when it doesn’t coincide with what he wants. Think of a child throwing a temper tantrum because they are denied something. They will engage in that behavior so much and so long that the parent- or authority figure- will just give it to them for a modicum of peace. You are all guilty of giving Michael what he wants so much that now that he’s not getting it, he’s looking for other, more destructive ways to appease his Id. And all in his efforts to keep his drug of choice near and dear to him.”

“You mean Brian?”

“No. I mean attention.” I know the confusion within my head is plainly written on my face as he elaborates. “Think about it, Blake. Michael has always had attention. First, it came in the form of his mother, who thought and still thinks that Michael needs to be compensated because his father wasn’t around. Then there was Brian, who Debbie charged with protecting and caring for Michael in exchange for providing a peaceful environment when his own homelife was in constant turmoil. Then there was Emmett, who Michael befriended and who needed to know about Pittsburgh life. Then there was Ted, who fed Michael’s own self-esteem issues. If you think about it, their whole existence in some way was designed to cater to Michael’s needs, wants, and desires. Then the appearance of the first two members of the triad of Anti-Michaels happened.”

“The triad of Anti-Michaels?”

“Indeed. First there was Justin, and then there was you.”

“But there has never been a time that we fit into the Michael Novotny Appreciation Society.”

“Exactly. You and Justin are so different from Michael that all his faults became glaringly obvious. So what would a tantruming child do when his attention-seeking behaviors regarding anything he considered his were no longer having the desired effect or giving him pleasure?”

“He’d seek out to destroy whomever or whatever was the causing him to be ignored and try to regain their attention by having an even more volatile tantrum.”

“And there you have the reason for why Michael acts the way he does. It comes from knowing how to push the buttons of those around him. But sadly, it didn’t stop there, because he also used another person in his quest to be paid attention to.”

“Ben.”

“Yes. He knows what he’s doing even though he tries to pretend otherwise. Originally it was supposed to be David, and that worked for a while. But like any other time when a shiny new toy begins to tarnish, what happens but the child looks for another trinket to attract attention.”

“So basically you’re saying that all the problems Michael caused and is still causing are laid at the door of Justin, Drew, and me? Whatever happened to taking responsibility for one’s own actions?” I know I just raised my voice at him, but I can’t help it.

“No, I’m not saying that at all. However, I am saying that when you, Justin, and Drew decided not to push him back into his own corner, it gave license to Michael to continue doing what he’s been doing for years. These latest results- the dissention between his friends and their life partners- is the direct result of Michael’s Id finally seeing victory.”

Well that just about knocked me on my ass! “Michael has only been succeeding because we stopped fighting? Shit! I almost lost Ted because I let that little fucker have the upper hand?!”

“Calm down, Blake, because now that you are armed with the information, you have a decision to make.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have to make the decision to be completely honest with Ted now. Remember what I’ve said about this being a free forum. Well, part of the reason we’ve gotten you all out of Pittsburgh was so that you wouldn’t have to carry the emotional luggage back home when you leave here. Consider this the neutral territory, that Pittsburgh with its many occupants, especially Michael and Debbie Novotny, are not.”

“But Michael is here, and I know he’s bound to start some bullshit.”

“He is, and yes he will, but what are you going to do about it? You can't drown him or control him, but you can limit his influence in some definitive ways. I will tell you this though… the time for passive, quiet Blake is long past. You’re going to have to talk to Ted, even if what you say is going to hurt him and vice versa. Either you want to save this marriage, or you don’t. But give him all the facts and see what he does with them.”

I chuckle. “You know Drew told me the same thing. ‘Give Ted all the facts and see what he does with them.’ What if the facts hurt too deep to voice?”

“Do it anyway, because in the end, it will save you.”

“How did you…”

“Know? You’re not the only recovering addict I know. Furthermore, you aren’t the only recovering addict in this room. It takes one to know one, Blake.”

“But how were you able to hold onto your license?”

“That’s the easy part; I never got caught. The hardest part was for me to admit that I had a problem; even to myself. Once I did, I sought treatment away from prying eyes. I took a year’s sabbatical from work. A lot of people think that functioning addicts have the easier time getting clean and sober, when the opposite is true. I may have a drink now and then, but no more than two in a night. It took me a while to be able to handle it again after my addiction to coke.”

“How long?”

“I’ve been clean now for twelve years. My anniversary just passed.”

“Congratulations,” I say sincerely. Looking at Bernard, all one sees is success, not recovering addict. It’s what I’ve always been afraid that people see me as. “So how do I get out of this rut that I’m in?”

“Make conscious decisions for one thing. You can’t expect Ted to do all the heavy lifting and fight for you if you aren’t willing to fight with him and for yourself. He can’t do that with only minimum information. Michael thrives in secrets. Don't give him a chance to expose yours.”

TED

Bernard told me that he would start my sessions tomorrow; that he needed to speak to Blake. I can respect the fact that he came to tell me himself instead of just sending an email. So while Blake is busy, I decided to get some work done and headed over to the conference room that was set up for us to use.

I was just settling in and opening the computerized ledger when Brian comes in. At first, he doesn’t say anything, just flops down in a chair with a stack of papers in his hand. I wonder what happened between him and Justin that has him so pissed, and am barely able to stop the temptation to ask him. But it isn’t my business, and I acknowledge that. So I’m surprised when he actually addresses me.

“Did Blake tell you?”

“Pardon?”

“Did Blake ever tell you?”

“Tell me what exactly?”

“About the messages and emails he sent.”

I pick up my coffee and take a sip as I search my memory for conversations relating to what Brian is talking about. After coming up with nothing, I comment. “Brian, I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but then Blake and I haven’t been speaking much since our ill-advised  sojourn to P-Town. What’s this about?”

“Justin was telling the truth,” he says, as he lays the stack of papers in front of me.

“About?”

“Take a look at the stack, Ted.”

The desperation in his voice and the fact that he shortened my name brought me up short. Sure Brian called me ‘Ted’ sometimes, but never really in reference to business or in business settings. I put aside the tangible ledger and shut the computerized version down in order to give what Brian wants me to look at my full attention. As I look through the stack, I find myself getting angrier and angrier, as pages and pages of notes and missed calls to Brian’s phone were revealed. I’m going to fucking kill Michael!