When they stepped out into the corridor, their shoes echoed on the highly polished faux-marble flooring. With most of the building’s tenants closed for the weekend, no sounds disturbed the hushed hallway.
Hannah consulted the slip of paper in her hand and then the placard on the wall. “It’s this way, I guess. Three doors down on the right.” Morgan followed her in silence. It hadn’t been a great week. After sharing the pizza for dinner on Monday evening, she’d made up some lame excuse to go home. She felt jittery and unsettled, and she sure as heck hadn’t been in the mood to stay and have sex.
Tuesday and Wednesday Morgan worked late. She hadn’t suggested he come over, and he hadn’t brought it up, either. Last night, they’d been to dinner and a movie with some friends, but they had met at the restaurant and thus both had cars.
When the other couple left, Hannah and Morgan had stood in the parking lot, and for the first time in their relationship, she hadn’t been able to read him. He was usually an open book, his amiable personality a pleasant change from some men she had dated . . . though she was fully aware that his gentle, easygoing demeanor hid a streak of stubborn determination.
After an awkward silence, he had kissed her good night and climbed into his car.
Even tonight when he picked her up, the strained atmosphere between them made her regret ever having broached the subject of sexual counseling. She could call it off right now, but Morgan might press her to pick a date, and
that
she was not prepared to do.
It was two minutes after seven when they entered the medium-size conference room. The other couples were already in place as was the husband/wife counseling team.
After a flurry of introductions, Hannah and Morgan sat down on a comfy, floral-patterned love seat. Three more pieces of furniture just like it but with contrasting upholstery were pulled into a fairly tight circle.
Hannah surveyed the group, her heart beating fast for some unknown reason. She’d never been bashful about meeting strangers, but this whole setup had her spooked.
The couple to her right couldn’t have been more than twenty-one or twenty-two years old, maybe younger, and they looked scared to death. They were holding hands, white knuckled, and they barely managed to make eye contact with their fellow counselees. They had been introduced as Timmy and Rachelle, no last names . . .
The couple on Morgan’s left were much older. Hannah guessed them to be in their early to mid-forties at least. The woman was slim and attractive, and she was dressed in an upscale pantsuit with gold jewelry. Her husband was really tall and lanky, and had a dimple that flashed when he spoke. Their names were Danita and Shaun.
The two doctors wore simple white lab coats and insisted on being called by their first names as well, Sheila and Pat. They were almost androgynous, both slim and lean with close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair.
Hannah tucked her purse at her feet and tried to relax. Morgan seemed comfortable beside her, but she couldn’t really tell.
Dr. Sheila got things rolling. With a businesslike smile, she greeted them. “Let me explain one thing from the outset,” she said crisply. “This is
not
a group about sexual dysfunction. We do have patients with those challenges, but this group assembled here tonight has nothing to do with that. All of you are strong, committed, healthy couples. You’ve sought out this venue to improve what are already good sexual relationships.”
She paused and looked at her spouse. He picked up the verbal pass. “Sheila and I have been married for almost forty-two years. We’ve been in practice together twenty-five of those. Ordinarily, we do group sessions for premarital sexual counseling based on our inherent belief that a healthy relationship in the bedroom goes a long way toward ameliorating difficulties that crop up in other areas. Morgan and Hannah are here for that reason.”
He smiled at the two of them benignly and continued. “But we thought it might be nice to try a bit of a different approach. Our other two couples are already married, and so this will be more of an intergenerational exploration of the role of sexuality in the context of marriage.”
Dr. Sheila leaned forward, her professional smile perfectly manicured. “Danita and Shaun are in a long-term marriage of twenty years. Timmy and Rachelle have been married only a year and have a three-month-old baby girl at home. Before we get into the specifics of how your individual couple sessions will be handled, why don’t we get to know each other a little better?”
Dr. Pat nodded. “Excellent way to start. Morgan . . . will you tell us something about yourself?”
Hannah felt Morgan stiffen. “Well, I’m a civil engineer, a native Floridian, and I recently proposed marriage to the woman sitting beside me.” He half turned and smiled, leaving Hannah on the hot seat.
She gulped inwardly, but managed not to blush. “I work as a personal shopper for the elderly . . . among other things, and I . . .” She trailed off, not sure what to say next.
Dr. Sheila filled the gap. “And have you set a wedding date?”
Now Hannah’s blush came in full force. “Not yet,” she muttered.
At a nod from the doctors, Danita spoke up. “I was a stay-at-home mom for eighteen years . . . then I got my real estate license, and I’ve been doing that ever since.”
Shaun crossed one ankle over his knee and stretched an arm behind his wife along the back of the sofa. “I work at Cape Canaveral in software systems . . . and I’m a runner.” He left it at that.
Poor Rachelle looked terrified when all eyes turned in her direction. But she was brave enough to speak even if she didn’t quite manage eye contact. “I dropped out of my sophomore year in college when we found out we were having a baby. I don’t have any real interests as far as getting a degree, but I want to be a good mom. My parents were really upset and insisted that me and Timmy come here for this counseling. They’re afraid we might split up.”
Timmy, still with youthful acne on his face, squeezed his wife’s hand. “And that’s just plain stupid,” he said quietly. “Me and Rachelle love each other like crazy. I’m still in school over at the community college. But I work evenings and weekends at an auto-body shop. I’m good with cars.”
Dr. Sheila smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle in her lab coat. “Very interesting, ladies and gentlemen. Now who wants to talk about sex?”
The comfort level in the room imploded in a million pieces, and Dr. Pat chuckled. “Don’t let her scare you. We’re not going to do any touchy-feely stuff, I promise.”
Hannah released the breath she had been holding. “Then what did you have in mind?” She’d never been bashful about speaking when she wanted or needed answers.
Dr. Sheila reached behind her into a briefcase and pulled out a binder. “We’re going to play a sexually oriented version of the old dating game that we like to call ‘If We Met in a Bar, Would You Do Me?’ ”
Morgan tried to sneak an unobtrusive look at his watch and failed. God, how much longer was it until eight thirty? Not that the game was really all that bad. No one had been put on the spot to answer any indiscreet or salacious questions. And part of it had even been cute.
But they had been talking about sex for an hour now, and it had been almost a week since he’d made love to Hannah. He was tired, and horny, and ready to bail on this
Love Boat
session. He cleared his throat and tried to look innocent and committed to the game.
Dr. Pat looked at
his
watch. “Well, ladies and gentlemen. We’d better wrap this up, because we still have to give you the information on how to proceed from here.” He took the binder from his wife. “Why don’t you tell them what comes next?”
Dr. Sheila actually looked animated. “Over the course of the weekend, Pat and I will discuss what we have learned about each of you tonight. Then we will prepare six individual questionnaires, which will be e-mailed to you no later than Sunday afternoon. I’ll do the women’s and Pat will do the men’s. We ask that you not share the questions or your answers with your partner. On Monday, please return the questionnaires to us either by e-mail, fax, or in person. At that time you will need to contact our receptionist and schedule your first visit.” She nodded to her partner. “Pat . . .”
He stood up. “If at all possible, we’d like you to plan for two sessions this coming week and two the week after. Then two weeks from tonight, we’ll meet back here in our group. At which point you can decide if you wish to sign up for another rotation. If you can manage only one time each week, then so be it, but for the full benefit of the program, a total of four would be best.”
Shaun, who had been really quiet, spoke up with a puzzled look on his face. “But I don’t understand. Why the questionnaires? What will the individual couple sessions entail?”
Dr. Sheila smiled benevolently. “Pat was getting to that. Go ahead, my dear.”
Dr. Pat resumed his monologue, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat. “Your questionnaires will be used for Sheila and me to set up a sexual role-play situation that will be unique to each couple. When you arrive for your appointment, the receptionist will direct you to a room. We ask that you enter and follow the directions inside. Please remain in the situation a minimum of one hour and participate fully. However, you will have the room for a total of two hours if you wish to stay that long.”
Dr. Sheila picked up the instructions and elaborated. “Be assured that your session is entirely private. You won’t even see Pat or me. Following that first session, you’ll get another set of questionnaires and the process will follow in the same manner until you have completed all four. The group session on the final Friday in two weeks will complete the first module.”
Timmy seemed confused. “But what do we do when we’re in the room?”
A muffled choke of what sounded like laughter seemed entirely unprofessional coming from the oh-so-correct Dr. Pat. His eyes twinkled. “You’ll be having sex, my boy. Lots of it.”
After a split second of silence, the whole room broke into a nervous chuckle.
Dr. Sheila, a slight frown on her face, perhaps at the unauthorized levity, brought her charges back on track. “For our final exercise before we dismiss I’d like each of you to share with the group as honestly as possible one important thing you think you have learned about being in a loving relationship.”
Danita frowned. “You mean something we’ve learned tonight?”
Dr. Sheila shook her head. “No. I want to know something you’ve learned in the past . . . something you feel is of value. Who wants to go first?”
After several seconds of long, uncomfortable silence, Morgan stretched his arms over his head and then rubbed his palms on his thighs. “I’ll go.”
Both doctors nodded briskly and spoke almost in unison. “Excellent.”
Morgan faced the group and not Hannah, so she had to turn sideways in her seat to see his expression. He was solemn, thoughtful. “I’ve learned that people and relationships are not governed by the same dynamics as my work. On the job, I’m the boss. I develop plans and carry them out. I make things happen.” He paused and gave Hannah a small smile. “But relationships are seldom that straightforward. They are delicate and even fragile at times. And they don’t always follow the path you might expect.”
He fell silent and Dr. Sheila nodded. “Very insightful, Morgan. Thank you.” She glanced at Rachelle. “Will you be next?”
The girl nibbled her lip. “Can I talk about the baby?”
Sheila nodded. “Of course.”
“Well . . .” There was a brief pause as she gathered her thoughts. “Having a baby is real hard on a relationship. I’m tired all the time, and I think Timmy sometimes feels jealous of the baby. He’s a wonderful daddy. But now that there are three of us, it’s like we don’t know how to act . . .”
Dr. Pat, still standing, smiled at her. “That’s a very common scenario, my dear. You’re a perceptive young woman, and the fact that you see what’s happening is a good thing. It will help you address those issues.”
Shaun jumped in without waiting to be asked. “I remember the baby days,” he said, his deep voice sympathetic. “But I think what I’ve learned is that people change. It’s inevitable. And if you don’t allow your relationship to change as well, you’re in trouble.”
Danita put her hand on his knee. “I’ve learned that it’s not fair to expect someone else to make you happy. We’re all responsible for our own fulfillment in life.” She and her husband exchanged a smile that seemed to hold a wealth of lessons learned.
Timmy’s face was bright red, but he managed to speak up with a voice that was only slightly shaky. “I’ve learned that love means lots of things. When you’re a horny guy, you just want the sex. But now I’m feeling and seeing new stuff every day about what it means to love your wife or your kid. It’s awesome, man . . . really awesome.”
The six older adults in the room stared at him, visibly moved by his simple statement. Hannah had to blink back tears. How was she supposed to follow that? And why did she end up going last?
All eyes were on her now with expectation. And she was drawing a big fat zero when it came to finding something profound to say.
She twisted her hands in her lap, feeing sweat bead on her forehead. “Well, I . . .”
Dr. Sheila smiled at her encouragingly. “Take your time.”
Hannah groaned inwardly. Great. Now she felt like the not-so-bright student who had to be coaxed along by the teacher. What the hell. She sucked in a breath and let it out. “I’ve learned that loving people makes you vulnerable, and that you can get hurt in the process.”
An awkward silence greeted her blunt words, and she cursed inwardly. She hadn’t meant to say that at all, but the words just seemed to burst from her mouth. Shit. Now they were all looking at Morgan as if he were some kind of jerk who made her life a misery.
She backpedaled rapidly. “That doesn’t really have anything to do with my relationship to Morgan. I was going farther back, I think . . . for the life lessons I’ve learned in the past. Is that okay?”