The Schopenhauer Cure(67)
Philip was silent, pondering Julius’s words.
Julius had his ways of ratcheting up the pressure when treating other therapists: “Another thing, Philip, if you’re going to be seeing clients or leading a group in the future, losing focus and turning inward is going to be a real liability in your work.”
That did the trick. Philip immediately said, “I chose to reveal what I did for self-protection. Pam knew everything about the list, and I was uncomfortable about her being able to drop that bomb at any time. Revealing it myself was the lesser of two evils.” Philip hesitated, inhaled, then continued: “There’s more to say. I still haven’t addressed Bonnie’s accusation of bragging. I kept that list because I had been extremely sexually active that year. My three-week relationship with Pam’s friend Molly was unusual; I preferred one-night stands, though I occasionally went back for seconds when I felt particularly sexually pressured and couldn’t meet someone new. When I saw the same woman a second time, I needed the notes to refresh my memory and make the woman feel I remembered her. If she knew the truth—that she was just one of many—I might not succeed. No braggadoccio whatsoever in these notes. They were meant for my private use only. Molly had the key to my apartment, invaded my privacy, forced open a locked desk drawer, and stole the list.”
“You telling us,” asked Tony, wide-eyed, “you had sex with so many women you had to keep notes so you wouldn’t mix them up? I mean, what are we talking about here? How many? How’d you pull this off?”
Julius groaned to himself. Things were complicated enough already without Tony’s envy-laced question. The tension between Pam and Philip was already unbearably high. It needed defusing, but Julius wasn’t sure how to do it. Unexpected help arrived from Rebecca, who suddenly altered the entire course of the meeting.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need some time in the group today,” she said. “I’ve been thinking all week about revealing something I’ve never told anyone, not even you, Julius. This is, I think, my darkest secret.” Rebecca paused, looked around the group. All eyes were on her. “This okay?”
Julius turned to Pam and Philip. “How about you two? Are we leaving you with too many strong feelings?”
“Okay with me,” said Pam. “I need some time out.”
“And you, Philip?”
Philip nodded.
“More than okay with me,” said Julius, “unless you want to mention first about why you’ve decided to reveal this today.”
“No, it’s better for me to plunge in while I still have the courage. Here goes: About fifteen years ago, about two weeks before my wedding, my company sent me to the Las Vegas computer expo to do a presentation on their new product. I had already handed in my resignation, and this presentation was to be my last assignment—I was thinking then that perhaps it might be the last one in my life. I was already two months pregnant, and Jack and I had planned a month-long honeymoon and then I was to turn to house and baby. This was long before law school—I had no idea whether I’d ever work again.
“Well, I fell into in a strange mood in Vegas. One evening, to my surprise, I found myself in the bar of Caesar’s Palace. I ordered a drink and soon fell into an intimate conversation with a well-dressed man. He asked if I was a working girl. I was unfamiliar with that phrase and nodded yes. Before I could say more about my job he asked me my fee. I gulped, looked him over—he was cute—and said, ‘One hundred fifty dollars.’ He nodded and up we went to his room. And then the next night I moved to the Tropicana and did it again. Same fee. And my last night there I did a freebie.”
Rebecca took a deep breath, exhaled loudly. “And that’s it. I’ve never told anyone about this. Sometimes I’ve considered telling Jack but never did. What would have been the point? Nothing but grief for him and precious little absolution for me…. And…Tony, you bastard…goddammit, that’s not funny!”
Tony, who had taken his wallet out and was counting his money, stopped in his tracks and, with a sheepish smile, said, “Just wanted to lighten things up.”
“I don’t want it to be made light of. This is heavy stuff for me.” Rebecca flashed one of her remarkable smiles, which she could conjure up at will. “There it is—true confessions.” She turned to Stuart, who on more than one occasion had referred to her as a porcelain doll. “So, what do you think? Maybe Rebecca’s not the dainty doll she appears to be.”
Stuart said, “I wasn’t thinking that. You know where I went as you spoke? I flashed on a movie I rented a few nights ago—The Green Mile. There was an unforgettable scene of a condemned prisoner eating his last meal. Sounds to me that in Las Vegas you treated yourself to one last piece of freedom before marriage.”
Julius nodded and said, “I agree. Sounds much like something you and I talked about a long time ago, Rebecca.” To the group Julius explained, “Several years ago Rebecca and I worked together for about a year when she was wrestling with the decision of getting married.” Turning back to Rebecca, he said, “I remember we spent weeks talking about your fears of giving up your freedom, your sense of your possibilities closing. Like Stuart, I think that those were the concerns that got played out in Las Vegas.”
“One thing sticks out in my mind from those hours together, Julius. I remember your telling me about a novel where someone seeks a wise man who tells him that alternatives exclude, that for every yes there has to be a no.”