Loving Her (Mitchell Family #9)(43)

Once we got inside of the office, I felt nervous. It hurt coming clean the first time, and not knowing what this doctor was going to expect from me was nerve wracking.

She took me and Miranda in first, sitting us side by side. We held hands as we waited for the questions to begin.

The doctor wrote down some notes before looking up at us. It was a woman, who looked like she was in her fifties. Her hair was gray and down to her shoulders. She wore wide rimmed black glasses that sat low on the bridge of her nose. “I’m doctor Pritchett. It’s nice to meet you both. I understand you’re in here today because you’re having some issues at home. Can you tell me about them?”

Miranda and I took turns, starting at the beginning when she’d first become pregnant, all the way until present day. We didn’t talk about how we obtained illegal paternity papers, but just that my name was added to the birth certificate as the father.

She took notes the whole time we talked, and I felt like I was on trial instead of being helped.

“I’d like to talk to Isabella, if that’s alright with you two?”

We got up and Miranda went out, letting Izzy know that it was her turn.

After only ten minutes, the doctor came out and got us to join them. We sat there, staring forward and waiting for her to magically make us a happy family again.

“I’d like to see you all the same time next week. Would that work for you?”

I looked at Miranda and shook my head. “I knew this was a waste of time.”

Before I could get up and walk out of the room, my wife grabbed my hand. “Ty, wait!”

I turned, sighed and stood there. “For what? We’ve sat here and told her everything and now she wants to see us next week.”

“Actually, sir, I was going to suggest some exercises that you could do together at home.” I turned around to see that she’d handed Miranda a printout of paper. “The three of you have just been through something traumatic. I know it isn’t life threatening, like some things could be, but it’s important to understand that something like this takes time to get through. Isabella, excuse me, Bella, has a lot to take in. We’ve only spoke briefly, but I can see that she’s angry. The exercises that I’m asking you to do are easy. It requires you both to spend fifteen minutes alone with her, in which you are expected to ask one question at a time, until the allotted fifteen minutes are up. You don’t have to do them back to back. One of you can do it in the morning and one before, or however it works best for you. You’re not the only family that’s going through a crisis and everything is fixable as long as you can be patient with each other. Restoring things back to normal is going to take both understanding and forgiveness. I want you to head home and work on this every day. We’ll talk about progress next week.”

We all three started to get up and as the girls walked out I heard her calling me back inside the office. “Mr. Mitchell, could I have a word?”

I sat down, feeling like she was going to scold me for being so rude earlier. “I’m sorry I jumped the gun. You can imagine I’m a little on edge.”

“Don’t give up on your daughter.”

“I won’t. It’s just hard knowing she hates me so much.”

“She doesn’t. It was one of the first questions I asked her. I sense that she’s being resilient to communicate and that’s very normal. For eleven years, she’s only known one thing. Being able to accept change doesn’t happen overnight. I do hope you come back next week. Try your best to do the exercise with Bella each day, no matter if she cooperates or not. Don’t let her see you giving up, because she’ll think you don’t care.”

I reached over and shook her hand. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“See you next week, then.”

I met the girls at the car. Bella was in the back, looking out the window like she was all alone. I smiled at Miranda as I climbed into the passenger seat. “Are you ladies hungry? We can stop and get something to take home. The boys are eating over Mimi and Poppy’s.”

“We could eat somewhere here in town, too. Are you hungry, Bella?” She looked in the rearview mirror at our daughter.

“Kind of.”

“We could go to that place that has the cool dessert case. Would you like that?” I was trying to butter her up, but she wasn’t having it.

“I don’t like that place anymore.”

“Since when? You’ve loved that place since you were two.”

“Since now. I’m not really hungry. Can we just go home?”

I’d struck out again. Miranda reached over and took my hand. She smiled and squeezed it. I knew not to push my luck.

We stopped at a drive-thru, and even though she didn’t ask for anything, we got her something anyway. Miranda and I stole a couple fries out of the bag. I picked it up and held it behind me to see if she wanted one, but she acted like she didn’t see it there, in front of her face.

“Remember when Bella was a baby and she called them fri fri’s?”

“Every time she saw a fast food place she’d yell for them,” I replied.

“And you’d get them for her,” Miranda added.

I leaned my head against the window. “I got her everything she ever asked for. It was my job.”

The car got quiet and it was hard to fight my way back to her heart. The more we brought up the happier times, the more she refused to interact with us at all.