The arguing was getting worse rather than better. Neither of them wanted to go, their busy schedules not often permitting it, but they both agreed that they needed it. They married young after a courtship in which both of them fell helplessly in love and eloped to marry weeks after high school graduation. In the beginning it was bliss. They made love frequently and rapaciously, never fighting. They laughed at each other's jokes, even finished the other's sentences, much to the annoyance of their friends. After years of dating they gained the reputation of the ‘annoyingly close couple' the others always found so cloying. They surprised each other with silly gifts, swung their clasped hands when out strolling and had cute endearments like "bunny" and "boo bear" they used in public without shame.
Years of this wore them down and though they spent less and less time with each other, they managed to hide the deterioration of their marriage from their mutual friends. At home each night they became cold; she retreated into her bedroom immediately after a quickly cooked dinner while he only emerged from the basement rec room after she had gone to bed.
It was after a particularly heated argument, about as trivial a subject as missed phone calls, and a night spent in separate bedrooms, that they agreed they needed outside assistance. They both valued their marriage more than anything else in their lives but didn't have the means to keep it going as they wanted right now.
Then came the arduous task of finding the right counselor. Neither was enamored with the idea of airing their personal secrets out to a complete stranger; they both found the idea somehow perverse. They agreed that if it must be done then it would only be with the best. Weeks spent reading up on the local counselors and therapists gave them a new perspective on the industry. Too many were indistinguishable from the others. Jack and Cynthia couldn't find any one that stood out from the rest. All seemed too similar and none seemed to be any they could identify with or benefit from.
Then at work one morning, while Jack was reading the New York Times over his daily muffin and coffee, he read an article that seemed to address their problems. "New Therapy Designed For Couples" the headline read. The paper told about Gloria Jameson, a therapist with an impressive history studying in Europe and Harvard before starting a practice in Paris. Her clientele swelled from word of mouth and though her methods were unorthodox and relatively untested, it had garnered only newly happy couples.
Tearing out the article carefully, he filed it in his briefcase to show his wife when he came home. For curiosity's sake he looked up her office in the phone book and even called the office to ask if they were taking on new cases. When he found that they were, he scheduled a meeting.
When he came home his wife was in the laundry room. He called to her but she didn't answer. Instead he laid out the article on the counter near her Woman's Day magazines where he knew she would read it and went about making his own meal- reheated casserole from that weekend.
Just as he was finishing she came out and, noticing the article, began to read it. He ate silently, watching for her reaction. When she finished she turned, saw him and finally greeted him.
"I didn't see you sitting there. Did you just get home?"
He perked up, happy to see she was in a good mood.
"I must not have heard you with the washing machine going. How was work?"
Before he could respond she sighed and began complaining about her day. She worked at a real estate broker and was facing the slow season. There wasn't much business and, with everyone restless, her boss constantly derided her for something. She was worried she may be laid off though she said she probably wouldn't mind that much now considering.
Her eyes scanned the torn article. "What's this?"
He explained the new treatment that may be of interest and how they'd been searching for something different.
"I'm not sure about this. Who knows what kind of a freako she could be?"
"Lots of professionals said some good things about her. Maybe we should give it a shot."
She turned and walked to her bedroom deciding she'd "look into it."
In bed she lay turned away from him and shrugged him off as he reached for her. His touch turned to gentle caresses, hoping to make her more receptive. Still she ignored him and instead he reached further down to clutch her ass, covered only in her silken nightgown.
"You might have better luck if you'd listen to me more," she said.
Hand stroking her backside lovingly he asked why she didn't feel like opening up to him or, for that matter, making love anymore.
She turned to face him, her full breasts swaying beneath her gown. "You just never have time for me anymore. You get home and you're too tired to have any fun. I'm tired too but I try to keep our home happy. You just go off on your own."
When they married they made a rule that they would never go to bed angry and resolve all disagreements before the next day began. They both believed their bed should be one of love and warmth, not a place to argue. He agreed with her and when he bent his face down in a show of forgiveness, she took him into her arms, holding him dearly.
Biting his lip, he admitted to scheduling an appointment with the therapist they read about. She seemed aggravated by the fact that he had done so without consulting her though she was pleased with his initiative. Still, she chided him. "I really don't know if any unproven techniques will work. I tend to believe in the older, time tested methods I've seen work on others." Kissing the top of his head, she gave in, "I'll do this for you. I'll go and listen to what she has to say but if I don't agree or it doesn't work, don't be shocked when I look for another counselor."
They kissed then, more closely then they had in weeks. Her lips opened to allow his tongue to play on hers and that way they fell asleep, nestled in each other's arms.
The next morning they arrived at the therapist's office a half hour early and were made to wait until she finished with her appointment and was free. Cynthia wore formal business attire and sat with her hands folded on her lap as she waited. Checking her watch, she timed it against the one on the wall of the waiting room. She had been given the morning off work and hoped to make it in before she was expected and win brownie points.
Jack merely sat beside her and scanned those seated in the identical padded chairs around them. Two other women sat across from them, one much younger than he with short blonde hair and a tiny frame. He guessed her to be of college age. Another woman, both older and wider than anyone else in the room, sat gruffly by the receptionists. Her hair was brown and curled. She took no notice of anything or anyone else in the room. Her attention was directed towards the Highlights Magazine she read intently.
He felt very conspicuous, sitting idly in the room praying for the receptionist to call them in the back so he could get out of the office away from the small crowd waiting to be called when, in fact, no one even noticed him. His very wife seemed oblivious and read her Redbook mutely.
When the receptionist, a young girl not yet out of college, read their names off the clipboard, he jumped up before she finished speaking. His wife, mildly embarrassed by his behavior sauntered behind him, thanking the girl with a soft smile.
The room they were ushered into did not have the imposing oak panels as Jack had pictured. Instead it was painted in a sedate pink with eggshell trimming. An overstuffed white loveseat rested by the far wall. By its side sat a matching wingback chair. In front of them was a large ornate coffee table on which a teapot, cups and saucers rested. In the corner was a large Victorian rolltop desk covered with stacks of papers. A flat screen computer monitor rested in the center and a large desk set, complete with fat, gaudy pens took up much of the space.
Dr. Jameson came behind them when they entered the room. She appeared to be in her thirties, with flowing red hair, fair skin and blue eyes. Cynthia was taken aback by her presence, expecting someone much older. They shook hands and exchanged introductions before the doctor explained her credentials. She had graduated early at the top of her class and entered the university of Paris when most children her age were going out on their first dates. Finding her advanced studies to be less of a challenge than most, she earned her Masters at the young age of 18. From there she got her Doctorate in Vienna and studied under Dr. Van Rijn, a Dutch Psychiatrist that was covering new ground in gender relationships. Her work kept her in the related field of marriage management and began taking clients at the age of 23, all the while still single.
Her reputation grew as her clients tried her experimental methods. She was handpicked to make a presentation at a convention in Brussels. The speech she gave intriqued all her peers that had gathered to hear her speak. Once they looked into her previous work her name became a household word within the industry. For another challenge, she decided to move to America and take on clients across the Atlantic. Many of her colleagues had already done so, and found the country very pleasant and comfortable.
By the time she finished explaining her past, they were sitting down, Cynthia and Jack close together on the couch while she sat in the chair at their right. "I can see," Gloria began, "that you both care for each other very much. Your body language expresses this and the fact that you are holding hands so easily."
