Her mother sits quietly for a moment. Then she turns to look at Rachel. “When did you ask me about turning the attic into an art studio?”
Rachel does an even bigger exaggerated eye roll. “Like nearly every day last year, after my teacher suggested that I take private art lessons, which you also wouldn’t let me do.”
Her mother looks completely baffled and shakes her head. “Last year…I can hardly remember anything last year. That’s when her father and I…” She doesn’t finish her sentence.
“That’s when my dad was cheating on my mom,” Rachel says.
Her mother’s head whips around to look at her. "You knew about that?"
“Mom, it was obvious. I don’t know why you let him stick around, except I guess you like your image better than being happy.”
I couldn’t have said it better myself.
* * *
WereRachel and her mother on perfect terms when they left my office this afternoon? No. But we did make headway, and her mother agreed to participate in more sessions with us. So in the end, it’s a win. As I leave my office, I’m glad somebody’s life is looking up.